“I’ll get us some water,” I said, “unless you want something stronger.”
“Water’s fine.” Vivi stared out her front window toward her palm trees, palmettos, and magnolias. All artfully arranged with hibiscus, camellias, and other native plants. No lush lawn that was hard to maintain and required lots of water. Because it was dark, she could only see her reflection.
I’d only been in Vivi’s house a few times. It was a big Victorian and sat on the beach, like mine. As the crow flies or the runner runs, our houses weren’t that far apart. The road between our two places meandered around coastal lakes and forests. I passed a huge family room that faced the ocean and a dining room on the way to the kitchen. All three levels of Vivi’s house had deep verandas that spanned the width of the house. Only the one on the first floor was screened in.
Vivi’s kitchen was bright white, with marble countertops and an island. A Coastal Living magazine and a coffee cup sat out on the island. The coffee was only partially drunk and the smell lingered in the kitchen. Some of the cupboards were glass-fronted, so it was easy to find glasses and fill them with ice and water from dispensers on the front of the refrigerator. I waited another minute to give Vivi some privacy before taking the glasses back out to the living room. I set one in front of her on a coaster with sandpipers on it and took mine around to the other love seat.
Vivi was leaning back, focusing on some far-off spot, the index finger of her right hand up against her lip. A large diamond sparkled on her ring finger. Pippi came trotting in. She looked from me to Vivi, as if she had to make a choice. Then she sprung up on the love seat and curled up in Vivi’s lap. Smart choice. Vivi needed comforting more than I did. Vivi started stroking her back.
After I sat Vivi looked at me and took a sip of her water. “Bringing that man into this house was the worst and the best thing I ever did.”
I nodded for lack of anything to say. I knew Vivi well enough by now not to push her. Maybe older, dearer friends could do that, but with me, she would just shut down.
“I met him gambling in an illegal game in Biloxi, Mississippi. He was handsome, charming, smart.” A smile flickered across her face. “Apparently he’s still all those things.”
Joaquín had told me last June that Vivi had had a gambling problem in the past. “I wouldn’t say charming. Unless you think a pigsty is charming.”
The smile flickered again. “I decided he was perfect for my daughter and invited him to our Sunday dinner. By the time the meal was over, my daughter was besotted. Soon after pregnant. And then, of course, Steve took off. He came sniffing back around about the time my daughter was due. A hefty check sent him on his way and out of our lives for a while.” Vivi stared at Pippi, who was purring contentedly. She looked up at me. “Perhaps I do need something stronger. There’s a bottle of bourbon in the back of the cupboard above the sink. Would you be a dear and get it?”
Calling me “dear” was new. I hustled back to the kitchen. I couldn’t reach the bottle, but found a step stool in the pantry. Once I retrieved the bottle and put everything away, I found a rocks glass for Vivi. I wasn’t a bourbon drinker, not even when it was the good stuff like this bottle of Blanton’s. I poured some into the glass and left the bottle in the kitchen before heading back to Vivi.
“Thank you, dear,” Vivi said when I handed her the glass. “Any time Steve needed money, he swung into town with some lavish gift for Boone, flowers and jewelry for my daughter. I always suspected all of it was stolen, or won gambling at the very least, because it was the one thing he was good at.” She laughed a cynical-sounding noise. “Probably he was cheating. That’s something else he was good at.” She took a sip of the bourbon and set the glass back down on the coffee table.
I was relieved she didn’t knock it back and ask me to get her more. Vivi didn’t drink often, especially for someone who owned a bar. Maybe because alcohol was always around, it somehow lost its appeal.
“Me slipping him a check always made sure he’d leave town again. Once, when I decided I was fed up with paying him, he moved in with my daughter and Boone. Made them both promises about being a changed man. But he was a lying son of a moonshine maker. He cheated on her the second night he was in town. Didn’t bother to hide it. My punishment for not paying him off as soon as he showed up. My daughter put up with it because she thought Boone needed his daddy.” Vivi took another drink. “He didn’t attend my daughter’s funeral, or Boone’s. But he gave us Boone, and for that I’ll always be grateful.”
“Boone was an amazing man.” My voice choked up as I said it. My best friend, and he’d been in love with me, only I didn’t find out until after he was gone. I’d loved him as a friend and now would always wonder if it could have been more. It’s the reason, even though I was attracted to Rip, that I tried—not always successfully given the past couple of days—to keep an emotional distance. “So you did something right, Vivi.”
She smiled a real smile then. “When Steve wasn’t around, my daughter was a fabulous mother and woman. The heritage business owners became Boone’s fathers. Ralph especially. He was so good to him.”
Ralph. I hadn’t given him a thought, or thought about what had happened yesterday since Steve showed up.
“I’ll call the lawyer in Chicago who wrote Boone’s will,” Vivi said.
“I sent him an email before I came over.”
“A follow-up call won’t hurt.”
“You’re right of course.” Vivi was good at bending people to her will.
“And then we’ll wait for Steve to show back up with his will.”
I stood up. Vivi might be willing to wait for Steve to show his hand, but I wasn’t. Not that I knew what I could do. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
* * *
I called Joaquín on the way home and filled him in on Steve’s appearance at my house. I told him that I’d gone to Vivi’s but didn’t tell him what she’d said about Steve. They’d known each other long enough that he probably knew how badly Vivi would react to this news.
“Come stay with us tonight,” Joaquín said. “Michael’s nodding. I’ll make you happy drinks.”
I laughed. Happy drinks involved fruit and paper umbrellas. “I could use a happy drink, but I’m tired and want to sleep in my own bed.” Boone’s bed.
“Then I’m staying on the phone with you until you get home, just in case Steve is waiting for you again. Something is off about that man.”
“That I would appreciate.”
“Do you really think he has a will?” Joaquín asked.
“I’m hoping it’s just a threat to get Vivi riled up and writing checks.”
“Boone wouldn’t do that to Vivi.”
It was the same thing Rip had said. “I just pulled into the drive. There aren’t any cars parked by the house.”
“I’m staying on the line until you’re inside.”
“You’re the best.” We chatted as I climbed out, hurried to the door, unlocked it, got in, and set the security alarm. “I’m all set.”
“No, you aren’t. You walk through the house. Don’t miss the closets or under the beds.”
I thought about protesting but gave in and did as he asked, filling him in as I went. “No boogeymen and no Steve. I do need to use the dust mop under the beds. Thank you, Joaquín.”
“You sleep well.”
“You too. Hugs to Michael.” I hung up. The reality of being so alone settled into my bones. I got a glass of water and took it out to the porch. A thin line of moonlight shone on the Gulf. The air smelled of the wood of the porch, salt, and pine from the trees around the house. The water whooshed and subsided, as if to say, Don’t worry. All is well. If only it were.
* * *
Thursday morning I set out for an early jog. The water had small waves, the beach was fairly empty. A couple of men were out fishing. I had to run farther up on the beach so I wouldn’t accidentally run through one of their lines. The sand was softer up there, and harder to run on. I was
n’t making much progress, which was exactly how I felt about finding out anything about Raquel and helping Ralph. I jogged back down to the firmer sand, waving to a woman I often saw running. We’d never talked and usually were heading the opposite way from each other.
While I’d like to make more friends here, especially some female ones, I didn’t really like to run with other people. I was content on my own, pushing myself or holding back as the mood struck. Running was my thinking time, or my mind-clearing time. Whichever I needed in the moment. In Chicago I had often listened to music when I ran, but here I loved listening to the sound of the water on the sand and the gulls’ cries.
I turned around after thirty minutes, ran back home, and got ready for the day. It was still early, so I made a big breakfast, with a veggie-loaded omelet, bacon, toast, fresh squeezed orange juice, and coffee.
I flipped on the local news and there stood Mary Moore on the beach, in front of the Sea Glass. She rehashed the story of my rescue, then the camera cut in close on her face.
“The identity of the Good Samaritan who saved Chloe Jackson remains a mystery. So far, no one we’ve talked to has been able to identify him. If any of you recognize this man,” they showed a shot of the man as he pulled away from the dock behind the Sea Glass, “or his boat, please contact me. We’d love to give him the hero’s welcome he deserves.”
The weatherman came on and I flipped off the TV, but continued to stare at it. Mary hadn’t exactly violated our agreement, but seeing that on the air didn’t make me happy. After I finished my breakfast I checked to see if I’d heard back from Boone’s lawyer—nothing.
Next I did a search for the Fair Winds. There were several articles about the disappearance of the boat on various anniversaries. I blinked and reread the names of the four people who had been on the boat. Raquel, of course, and Susan Harrington. Never heard that name before. Blake Farwell. He might be related to Jed. But the shocker was Cartland Barnett. Was he related to Rip? I did a quick search and found out that Cartland was Rip’s father. Cartland was much younger than the others on the boat.
Why had no one mentioned this? How odd that Boone and Rip had both had absentee fathers—though for very different reasons. I did the math in my head. Rip would have been around sixteen when the Fair Winds disappeared. Maybe that was one of the reasons they’d become friends. Rip had told me in June that Boone had talked about me a lot. I glanced at the clock. I didn’t have time to search more right now. I needed to get to work.
I took a quick shower, then drove over to the Sea Glass. It was ten o’clock, and I was the first one in. I didn’t want Vivi here alone in case Steve showed up and I’d grown to like being here by myself in the morning. I got the barstools down from the tables, and dusted, looking at all the pictures and signs hanging around the bar. After working here for three months I was starting to recognize younger versions of some of our patrons.
After that was done I sliced lemons, oranges, and limes for the drinks we’d serve today. Joaquín sailed in a few minutes later in a navy-blue Hawaiian shirt dotted with pink, cheeky-looking flamingos.
“You’re early,” I said.
“I didn’t want Vivi to be here alone if Steve came in.”
“Me either. She’s not in yet.”
“Should we be worried?” Joaquín asked.
“I already got a start on that, but it’s not doing any good.” Vivi was usually here before our eleven o’clock opening.
He looked around. “You’re spoiling me by doing all the grunt work before I arrive.”
“Are you calling me a grunt?” I asked.
“Never, darling. It’s just that you will tackle any job. No one else who’s worked here ever did that. If they did, it was usually accompanied by a lot of complaining.”
“I’m not good at sitting around.”
“I’ve noticed.”
* * *
Vivi came in a little after we opened at eleven. Even though she wore a bright blue, short-sleeved dress, silver heels, had make up on, and her hair was in its usual sleek bob, she looked tired, which made me feel bad for her. She tossed her silver designer bag in her office before she came over to Joaquín and me.
“Any sign of Steve?” she asked.
“Not yet. Did you talk to the lawyer?” I asked.
Vivi glanced at Joaquín.
“I filled him in last night. He needed to know in case Steve showed up.”
“Of course,” Vivi said. “I’m glad you did.”
Whew.
“I spoke to Boone’s lawyer about an hour ago. If Steve has a will dated after the one he drew up, it will be up to the court to decide which one is valid. All we can do right now is wait for Steve to show up and see what he has to say. He might not even have a will. Maybe he’s bluffing.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. Maybe this was just another of Steve’s schemes to get money from Vivi.
Two groups of people came in off the beach, so we didn’t have time to discuss it further. That was a good thing, because the whole topic was just too depressing. While I had a selfish interest in wanting Steve to be lying, I was more worried for Vivi. I couldn’t imagine her having to turn half ownership over to Steve. Vivi and my butting heads would look like Little League to their major-league issues.
The phone rang. “Sea Glass Saloon, how can I help you?”
“Is this Chloe Jackson?” a man’s voice asked.
“Yes.” Maybe this was my rescuer. Maybe the reporter’s piece on TV this morning had worked. It didn’t sound exactly like him, but we’d had to talk loudly because of the engine noise.
“I just wanted to tell you that I saw you on TV and I’d rescue you anytime.”
My eyes got wide. “Who is this?”
He started a list of ways he thought he could rescue me. All of it had to do with us being naked.
“Go to hell,” I said and pressed the Off button to end the call.
Vivi and Joaquín were staring at me.
“What was that about?” Vivi asked.
“Someone who volunteered to rescue me. You don’t want to know the rest. Let’s just get back to work.”
Vivi put a Reserved sign on the high-top table where the heritage business owners usually sat. I hoped some of them showed up, because they had Vivi’s back in a way no one else did. Their parents had all known each other—sometimes even their grandparents. They’d all gone to school together, and even if they left to go off to college or serve in the military, they all returned to run the businesses their families had started.
I took care of the people at the two tables. Every time someone came in Joaquín and I jerked up our heads, but Steve hadn’t shown up. Various heritage business owners came in and out, and the table was never empty. By one thirty I was someplace between being on high alert and trying to convince myself that Steve had lied. That he was just hoping for another payout from Vivi.
CHAPTER 16
At two I was back in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher. Joaquín stuck his head around the corner of the door.
“Chloe, a man is in the bar who wants to talk to you about the cigarette boat.”
My heart accelerated. Maybe Mary Moore’s report had made the Good Samaritan realize I was looking for him. I hustled out to the bar. The man who stood there wasn’t the man who’d rescued me. He was shorter, less tanned, and didn’t look like the pictures of Neptune I’d seen. But maybe he knew my rescuer. He awkwardly held a box that was about twelve by twelve inches under one arm.
“I’m Chloe,” I said. “I’m looking for the cigarette boat and its owner.”
“I don’t know nothin’ about the owner, but I got something for you.” He put down the box on a barstool and opened it up. He pulled out a boat in a glass case and set it on the bar. It was in the shape of a cigarette boat and was made of cigarettes. “I thought this would commemorate your adventure.”
It was intricately detailed. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stared at it and then the m
an. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”
“I’ll give you a bargain price of fifty dollars, and if the next time you talk to that reporter you mention my work, I’d appreciate it.”
I went around the back of the bar, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. I got my purse, found fifty dollars, and handed it over to the man. He left whistling as he went.
“Why’d you buy that, Chloe?” Joaquín asked.
“I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and it is kind of cool.”
We both studied it.
Joaquín laughed. “It is.”
* * *
Business had been steady. Joaquín turned up the cheery island music. He danced and swayed his hips even more than usual, and that was saying something, because he was usually moving around. He winked and flirted with the women who sat in the row of seats at the bar to watch him. Joaquín even twirled me around and dipped me once when I brought him an order.
Vivi sat with Ralph, Wade, Edith Hickle, who owned the Glass Bottom Boat along with her father and daughter, Fred Russo, who owned Russo’s Grocery Store, and Jed Farwell, who owned Emerald Cove Fishing Charters. Wade brought over a selection of raw oysters—yuck—and jambalaya. I ate a bowl of jambalaya that had just enough spice to tingle my tongue, but not overwhelm it so I couldn’t taste the shrimp, chicken, and Andouille sausage.
Wade sat next to Vivi, as he always did when he was here. The man was madly in love with her. While I could tell Vivi was fond of him, I wasn’t sure she was in love with him. However, the summer tourist season kept everyone so busy that no one had much time for personal relationships. It had been all work and then fall into bed exhausted.
I finished delivering drinks to a table out on the deck. The beach wasn’t nearly as crowded as it was during the summer, but there were still plenty of people enjoying the late-afternoon sun. As I carried the now-empty tray back in, I saw Vivi sit bolt upright. Wade stood and crossed his arms over his chest while the rest of the crew turned to look in my direction. I turned too.
Steve stood next to a man close to my age in a pinstriped business suit. His wavy, dark hair was slicked back and gelled into place. He wore a pristine white shirt, with a purple tie the only thing that didn’t scream power.
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