Ben leaned on his elbows, waiting.
“There’s something I found.” She told him about the paintings. The possible ramifications. “Selling them could save the Muses. But. What if they turn out to not be real?”
“You mean forgeries?”
“It’s possible. It seems too good to be true, doesn’t it? How could those paintings survive all these years untended in the salt air? They’re not mildewed or anything.”
“And if you could sell them, it would be enough to keep Leo and Fae at the Muses?”
She nodded, slowly and deliberately.
“And you would stay to set things up? Is that what you’re thinking?”
“More than that. I’m thinking the Muses would make a great museum. Artwork in situ.”
“Sounds like a huge project.”
“It would be and maybe impossibly expensive.”
“Is that something you would want to do?”
“I just don’t know. Part of me wants to stay, but there’s another part of me that loves the work I do for the Cluny.”
“If you do stay, make sure it’s for the right reasons and not because it’s what you think you should do.” He turned her to face him. “Wes and Leo didn’t want you to be tied to the Muses. It drove all their children away and they didn’t want it to drive you away, too.”
“Oh, Ben, I don’t know what to do.”
“How about this?” He lifted her chin and kissed her.
Fae looked into the darkened room one more time. This time Vivienne stirred in her sleep. If she kept this up much longer, Fae might be tempted to pour a bucket of ice water over her, but it would wreck the mattress.
Besides, Issy wasn’t home yet. Good, maybe she’d stay out late. If Fae had her way, she wouldn’t come in at all. But she knew Issy would be back. Somewhere in her unorthodox childhood she’d developed a keen sense of responsibility. Vivienne may have always acted like the responsible one, but her actions were merely knee-jerk reactions to a way of life she considered beneath her.
Vivienne couldn’t wait to marry into the Bannister family. They were a staid, respectable old family. Much straighter than the Whitakers. But those were always the families who ended up with at least one doozy of a black sheep. Dan Bannister was theirs.
Well, Vivienne had made her bed, and Dan was evidently sleeping with someone else in it.
Issy, on the other hand, learned true responsibility, she would do what she thought needed to be done. Fae selfishly hoped she would stay, but not if Issy took over caring for her and Leo out of some mistaken sense of duty.
It was free will or nothing.
Please don’t let it be nothing.
Fae glanced at Vivienne one more time. She would sleep a little longer. Fae needed to go home. Just for a while, she needed to go . . . home.
The last thing Issy wanted to see at the moment was the gates to Muses by the Sea.
Ben had kissed her. More than once. And she was having unsettling feelings. He was Chloe’s brother. He’d seen her in her Princess Leia underwear. She’d drunk his plankton experiment. She and Chloe had caught him making out with Jessica Redburn in the Collinses’ basement. He’d gotten really mad and thrown a couch pillow at them. Jessica went home, embarrassed, and never went out with him again.
It hadn’t saved him from girls. There were plenty waiting to take Jessica’s place. Suddenly the nerdy boy-scientist who was their inseparable companion became Mr. Much in Demand. And then he was gone off to college, leaving an empty spot between his two companions.
And now? Now he was everything he was then, yet more.
Issy could feel it, relate to it, but she wasn’t ready to act on it. Instead, she was going back to the Muses, feeling a little awkward and a lot aroused, and that made her feel more awkward. He’d been her friend since childhood. He’s Chloe’s brother.
And Issy didn’t care. She let her hand drift over to his thigh. If this were Manhattan and Ben wasn’t Chloe’s brother, they might have ended up at his apartment. Though Issy could hardly remember those days, she’d been working nonstop lately.
Besides, she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to change the dynamics of their friendship. Issy, Ben, and Chloe. Except that Paolo and Chloe were definitely attracted to each other and might even now be settling in for a long night at Chloe’s.
“Last chance for a night of reckless abandon,” Ben said.
“As tempting as that is, and believe me it’s tempting—though you have to promise to never tell Chloe—I have an interrogation to perform tonight.”
“Really looking forward to letting her have it?”
“I was. But I’m feeling a little distracted at the moment.”
“And I could shoot myself for reminding you.” He kissed her hand and put it back in her lap. “And don’t you tell Chloe, either. She’ll just rub it in and say ‘I told you so’ in that annoying way she’s always had.”
He stopped at the front door. Got out of the car to open her door. “I see that Paolo isn’t back yet.”
“I told him he could have the night off.”
“Lucky guy. You sure he’s okay for Chloe? She’s not a sophisticated girl.”
“He’s lovely.”
“And you’re sure you two—”
“Me and Chloe?”
“You and Paolo.”
“I love him dearly. But no, never have, aren’t, and won’t be.”
He stopped her at the door, looked around, and pulled her close. This kiss took her breath away, and she was still dizzy when he reached around her to open the door. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Issy went in and Ben went down the steps.
“That was lovely,” Fae called. “Hold the door, Issy, I’m on my way.”
Issy looked out the door. Fae was huffing her way across the drive. Ben had smacked his palm to his forehead. His cowlick was sticking up.
Chapter 26
“Well,” Fae said when they were standing in the foyer. “I’ve waited years for that.”
“For Ben to kiss me?”
“For anyone to kiss you beneath the porch light. It being Ben is just icing on the cake.”
“Aunt Fae, I’ve been kissed before.”
“I should hope so, but not under our porch light, not that I’ve seen.”
Issy shook her head. She hadn’t had a boyfriend until college. “Okay, now the porch light has been anointed, what does it mean?”
“Means you’ve come home.”
Issy frowned. “Aunt Fae, it doesn’t mean that I will stay.”
“Oh, I know. It just means you can if you want to.” She hurried on ahead, leaving Issy wondering what she was talking about.
Issy followed her into the parlor, where Vivienne was sitting in a wing chair with a light throw over her legs. She clasped a steaming mug in both hands. Leo sat in the other wing chair holding a nearly empty sherry glass and Jillian was on the couch with a tumbler filled with ice and gin.
Vivienne shrank back when she saw Issy.
“Hold that thought. I need to change. Don’t start without me.”
When Issy returned wearing yoga pants and a big tee, Fae had joined Jillian on the sofa and was drinking sherry with Leo.
Issy walked across the room and took a second to glare at Vivienne just for good measure. She took her laptop off the desk and pulled up a chair near the wingback where her sister sat.
“You don’t mind if I take notes, do you?” Her tone let Vivienne know she didn’t care if she cared or not. Vivienne hung her head and started whimpering.
Issy shifted in her chair. “Let’s get this straight from the top. If anybody should be crying around here, it’s Leo and Fae and your three children. So cut out the theatrics and tell us what you did with the money.”
Vivienne reared out of the chair. “I don’t have to—”
“Yes, you do,” Jillian said. “Sit down.”
Vivienne visibly deflated; she looked pitifully over to
Leo, but Leo was looking past her and out the window so intently that Issy had to force herself not to look, too. Because she knew what—who—was out that window. On the knoll. She’d have to make sure Leo went upstairs to bed tonight and didn’t go traipsing around the dunes at midnight.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
This was met by total silence.
“You don’t understand.”
“No, we don’t, Vivienne,” said Issy. “So explain to us why you and your husband would steal millions from your own family, dump your children on two unsuspecting women, and then take off to Panama. Or why I got called away from work by your eight-year-old daughter, who begged me to come get her and her brother and sister, which I did only to find Grammy in the hospital and your three children in police custody.”
“It’s always about you,” Vivienne spat.
“No, Vivienne,” Leo said calmly. “It’s always been about you. Now answer Issy’s questions, please.”
Vivienne’s lip quivered. “You’re ganging up on me.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Jillian stood up and went to the drinks cabinet. Held up her glass, asking if anyone else needed a refill. No one did. She poured herself a large drink and sat back down. “Just answer Issy’s questions.”
“Why did you leave your children here?”
“I had to.” Vivienne started to cry. Leo handed her a tissue from a box sitting next to her. She’d come prepared.
“I had to go after Dan. I accused Mrs. Norcroft of stealing and I fired her because I thought she was responsible for the missing items. But it was Dan.
“I didn’t know he was stealing from the bank account. Oh God. He took all the money out of the bank and ran away. I went after him to try to get the money back.”
Issy snorted. “Or help him spend it. Is that why you spent two weeks with him in Panama? Where were you going to jet-set to next?”
“Panama? I didn’t go to Panama. I went to the family cabin up in the Adirondacks. I thought maybe Dan just needed to get away. Things hadn’t been going too well between us. I thought he—but I was wrong. He hadn’t been there. So I went back home. That’s when I realized he’d cleaned out all the bank accounts and I saw red.
“I started calling his friends, everybody that he knew or might know where he was. One of them told me he’d just seen him in Miami. So I dropped off the kids and flew down. I couldn’t take them with me. Grammy said it was okay, didn’t you, Grammy?”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone? We were all calling you and calling you. The children were frantic.”
“I left a message that I loved them and I was coming back. And I was coming back. I was following Dan’s trail and it took me some time to run him down in Miami, but by then he’d checked out of the hotel. I didn’t want to give up without getting the money back, but I was out of cash, my phone was dead. I just couldn’t come back and face everyone until I found the money.”
“But you came back and broke into your house.”
“I meant to slip in and out. Do some laundry and hit the trail again. But he’d sold the house. Can you believe it? He actually sold our house without consulting me. I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t unlock the door. I tried and tried and finally I thought, Screw it. I threw a brick through the window and let myself in.”
She took a sip of tea, probably cold by now. “I just went into my own house. I was just going to get some clothes and things I needed and take off again, only someone reported a burglary. And the police came. Thank God that Detective Griggs remembered you and got them to bring me here.” She took a shuddering breath. “Oh God, what am I going to do?”
“Now, now.” Leo leaned over to pat Vivienne’s knee.
“Let Issy handle this, Mother,” Jillian said, and Issy was so surprised to find her name on her mother’s lips instead of her usual “Oops,” she almost lost her train of thought.
“Are you telling us Dan took all the money and fled without your knowledge?”
“Yes. I didn’t know what was happening at first, but when I did, I brought the kids here. I didn’t want them to know what was going on. That their father was a—a—I can’t even say it. I knew they would be taken care of here while I checked all the places where he might have gone.”
“To Panama.”
“Why do you keep saying Panama?”
“Because that’s where he is. And you were seen with him.”
From the corner of her eye, Issy saw Jillian grimace.
Vivienne shook her head. Then heat flared in her eyes. “That bastard! It wasn’t me.”
Oops, Issy thought, and almost laughed out loud.
“I can’t believe he would do that to us.”
Jillian leaned forward. “So you’re telling us you don’t have any of the money?”
“None. I don’t even have our joint money. He took that, too. And before you ask, I didn’t have a separate checking account. And now my credit cards are maxed out.”
“What about the Bannisters?” Issy asked. If they didn’t know where Dan was, maybe at least they would take Vivienne and the children in.
“They’ve already washed their hands of him—and me. Evidently there were gambling debts.”
“And you were oblivious to all this?”
“Yes, why don’t you believe me?”
“Because no intelligent, educated woman could possibly be that clueless about her finances.”
“Well, I was. Maybe it was because instead of paying attention to myself, I was taking care of my children. Besides, Dan always took care of our finances. That’s what husbands do.”
“Lame, Vivienne, just lame.”
“Girls, stop it,” Leo said. “Wes hates—hated—when you argued. The money is gone and that is that. We’ll just have to figure out a way to get some more.”
Vivienne slumped back. “I didn’t know. I was just trying to make it right.”
Issy realized that she’d been holding on to a flicker of hope that Vivienne would return with the money. But that wasn’t going to happen. Her sister had been betrayed just like the rest of them.
She thought about the paintings out in the cabin. She didn’t dare mention them tonight. Jillian was just mercenary enough to find them and steal them. At this point she wouldn’t even put it past Vivienne. Issy needed a lot more information about those paintings before she did anything with them, and even then she wasn’t planning to share the information.
Vivienne blew her nose. “What do I tell the kids?”
“That you’ve decided to spend the summer with me,” Leo said. “We’ll have a lovely time.”
So it was true. Stephanie pulled herself up from where she crouched behind the archway and crept away. Her father was the worst kind of thief and her mother was clueless. He’d sold their house. They didn’t even have any of their clothes or anything. They had nothing; they might as well have been swept away in the hurricane that was coming. They were such losers.
How could she possibly be important to any story with genes like that? She wiped her cheeks. They were wet, but today would be the last time she shed tears for what had happened. From now on she was her own person. No matter how much it hurt.
She skulked along the walls to the back stairs, took them up to her room, and shut and locked the door. She meant to stay up until Aunt Issy came to bed, but it had been a long day and her feelings were all mixed up. And she had to cry just a little more before she never cried again.
“Does Grammy understand any of this?” Vivienne asked as she stood in the hallway with Issy and Jillian. It was the first time Issy had been close enough or cared enough to notice that there were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was puffy from crying and possibly sleeping tablets. Her perfect hair wasn’t perfect, but near enough to prevent Issy from feeling completely sympathetic.
“I would say so,” Jillian said.
“You think I’ve been very stupid.”
“It seems to run in the family, except maybe Issy
, and I have a feeling that she’s about to do something rash.”
“I’m standing right here, in case I really am invisible to the two of you.”
Jillian raised both eyebrows.
Vivienne’s mouth twisted. “I don’t know why you have to be so bitchy.”
“Bitchy?” Issy replied. “I passed bitchy a long time ago, somewhere between Manhattan and three frightened, deserted children. I’m fed up. I seem to be the only one in this house with a penny to my name and what I have is quickly being depleted by groceries and expensive liquor. Yes, Jillian, I did notice the empty box from the liquor store. So if you’re both going to become a part of the household, I suggest that at least one of you come up with a scheme for earning some money.”
“My dear Oops, one can’t get anywhere earning money. You must attract it.”
Issy just looked at her. “And how’s that working for you . . . Mom? If you’re both going to stay here, then make yourselves useful.”
“Leo said I could stay. So to hell with you. It’s not your house.” Vivienne burst into new tears and stalked off down the hall.
“It won’t be any of ours if somebody doesn’t come up with a way to save it,” Issy called after her. “Ugh. This would be a comedy if it weren’t so gut wrenchingly pathetic.”
“True,” Jillian said. “I can’t remember a more lachrymose scene. I feel absolutely waterlogged.”
“Probably the gin and vermouth, Mother.”
“Touché, darling, I think I’ll just have another.”
Issy sat in the dark of her room wishing she hadn’t lost it in front of her mother and her sister, the two people she most wanted to appear cool before. She wished she’d just stayed away. She could be at Ben’s house now, basking in the afterglow of what hopefully would be good sex.
Or maybe they’d still be talking, but about good stuff and not about how to stanch the hemorrhaging of the Whitakers. Maybe reminiscing. Even talking about recording saline levels would be better than this.
The Beach at Painter's Cove Page 29