A Time to Swill

by Sherry Harris

  Steve, on the other hand, looked relaxed in a casual, beige short-sleeved shirt, one hand tucked into the pocket of his brown slacks. If I had hackles, they’d all be up. I glanced back at Joaquín. He stood stock-still, which was saying something about a man who was a perpetual motion machine.

  “Can I help you?” I forced out each word.

  “I’m glad to see you took my advice,” Steve said, gesturing up and down at me.

  He was right. I’d been dressing up a bit more since his comment. Today I had on a one-piece, off-the-shoulder romper. The flowy legs ended just above my ankles. But I’d picked it for comfort, I told myself this morning, not because of Steve.

  “We don’t need any help,” he said. “We’re just here to take some measurements for our revamping plans.”

  Revamping?

  “I’ve heard of shabby chic before,” the woman with Steve said, “but this place is just shabby.” Her nostrils actually flared.

  I’d always thought that was something that only happened in novels. I felt my face go from stone cold to warm to boiling. I loved this place. It had a vintage charm, and sure, maybe a few of the barstools could be upgraded. But the carved initials on the tabletops told a story. The pictures and signs hanging on the walls were the history of Emerald Cove.

  “At least the view is stunning,” she added. She plopped her satchel on a table and pulled out a book of what looked like wallpaper samples. She flipped through, stopping on a hideous-looking silver-metallic sample. She tapped it with a long, pointy nail. “This should be perfect.”

  Steve leaned in and looked. “I like it. We’ll get rid of all this crap hanging on the walls. Put up the wallpaper and a few abstract paintings.”

  She looked down at the floor, which was concrete. Not exactly pretty, but it was easy to clean off all the sand that got tracked in every day. “With some stain these would work.”

  “We can add some industrial lighting and wrap the bar in stainless steel,” Steve said.

  Perfect. Cold and soulless, just like Steve. “I think you’re forgetting that even if the will is legal, Vivi still owns half of the Sea Glass.” I looked back and forth between them.

  Steve threw back his head and let out a hardy laugh. The kind of laugh that made me think physical violence wasn’t such a bad idea. I enjoyed a moment of picturing my fist connecting with that face. I knew it would hurt like heck afterward but it would be worth it.

  “Chloe, do you really think Vivi isn’t going to sell out, now that the place is half mine?” Steve asked when he finished laughing.

  Ah, so that was his plan. “You might like whoever buys it even less than you like Vivi.” I wondered if there was a way to raise the money so I could buy it, if it came to that. I’m not sure a GoFundMe would work. Unfortunately, I had no experience in illegal activities that raised cash fast. “I think you may be underestimating Vivi.”

  Steve’s smarmy grin disappeared. He leaned over me. “I think you may be underestimating me.”

  “I read the emails you wrote to Boone,” I said. “You said you had health issues.”

  “Had being the key word, kid. I’m a survivor, and Vivi and her merry little band better get used to it.”

  Joaquín moved to my side. “Get. Out. Vivi told you that you aren’t welcome here.”

  The woman with Steve had out some kind of laser device and was measuring the room. Steve looked at her. “Let’s go.”

  “I’m not quite finished,” she said, pointing the laser toward the back of the bar.

  “I said let’s go.” Steve’s voice was as sharp as her nose.

  She packed her things in a huffy way and hefted the satchel up on her shoulder. Steve didn’t offer to carry it for her.

  “I’ll be back,” Steve said.

  He didn’t sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger in the Terminator movies, but it still sounded like a threat. I hoped for a passing moment that someone would terminate him. Then I felt bad for wishing ill on him. Karma and all that.

  Joaquín was muttering under his breath in Spanish, which made me know how upset he was.

  “Don’t worry,” I said to Joaquín. “I’ll deal with him one way or the other.” I turned to get back to work and saw Deputy Biffle was right behind me.

  CHAPTER 29

  Perfect timing. By the set of his face I was certain he’d heard my comment. Joaquín turned, and his eyebrows popped up. He looked from Deputy Biffle in his mirrored aviator sunglasses to me and back again. It didn’t help the situation. Maybe it was best to ignore it.

  “Can I get you something, Deputy?” I asked, trying for a reasonably normal voice, but it had an edge to it that it didn’t usually have. I hoped my face had lost some of the red heat I’d felt earlier. I’d seen how I looked when I was worked up and it wasn’t becoming.

  Deputy Biffle looked around the bar. Did I detect a hint of disappointment when he turned back to me? “I wanted to speak to you for a moment,” he said. He glanced at Joaquín. “Alone.”

  I looked over at Joaquín. He gave a small nod.

  “Why don’t you use Vivi’s office?”

  “Thanks,” I said and motioned for Deputy Biffle to follow me.

  I sat in Vivi’s chair and Deputy Biffle sat across from me. He took off his sunglasses, folded them, and tucked them in front of his uniform shirt. Biffle looked up at me. He had deep, brown eyes that weren’t any easier to read than when he had his sunglasses on.

  “This is a courtesy call, and what I’m about to say isn’t public yet.” He gave me an intense look.

  “I won’t say anything, then.” I managed not to cross my heart or pretend to zip my lips and throw away the key.

  Biffle continued to stare at me for a moment. “The remains found on the boat weren’t Raquel Harrison’s.”

  I sat up a little straighter. “They weren’t?” That was stupid. Why would he say that if he didn’t mean it? “Whose were they?” I hoped they knew.

  “Susan Harrington’s. She was the other woman out on the boat the night Raquel Harrison and the two men disappeared.”

  I didn’t know how to feel. I wondered how Phillip would feel. At least he would have some closure, but that meant Ralph’s family and Raquel’s wouldn’t. That might mean suspicion would continue to cloud Ralph and Delores. It broke my heart a little to think that.

  “How did you find out so quickly? I thought these things took days.”

  “If we had to rely on DNA, it would have. But in this case we could use dental records. The news will be out soon enough, but keep it tucked under your hat for now. Hard to keep a secret in Emerald Cove.”

  He might think that, but I thought this small town had more than its share of secrets. “I will. I’m surprised you’re telling me this.”

  “Yeah, so am I.” Biffle stood, so I did too.

  It made me wonder what his motive was. “Have they identified that man who rescued me?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Doesn’t that seem odd? I thought they could find almost anyone with their fingerprints.”

  “If they’ve been fingerprinted for some reason.” Biffle looked at me for a long minute. “You’d best hope nothing happens to Steve Kincheloe. If it does, you’ll be the first person I’ll come talk to.”

  “I didn’t mean I would physically harm him. I meant I’d do what it takes to find out the truth about the will he gave Vivi.”

  He gave me another hard look, put on his sunglasses, and left. While I’d have liked to hide out in here a while and absorb what I’d just found out, I had drink orders to take.

  * * *

  With all that was going on with Steve, I hadn’t wanted to bother Vivi, about the Fair Winds disappearance. She knew all the players, though, so I decided I had to get her thoughts. Earlier in the day I’d asked her to stay after so we could talk.

  “Why don’t you pour yourself a glass of wine?” Vivi suggested as she fixed herself a glass of seltzer water. She dropped in a lemon and a lime. “Poor man’s Coke
.”

  “I’ll never get used to people down here calling all pop Coke.”

  “And trust me, no one will understand when you call Coke pop. What’s on your mind?”

  We took our drinks out on the deck. It was a lovely evening. The air was still warm, and bits of laughter from the Briny Pirate drifted over to us.

  “I wanted to hear what you thought about the four people who were on the Fair Winds the night it disappeared.”

  “Of course you do.”

  I decided not to ask her what she meant by that. “What was Cartland Barnett like? He was younger than the others on the boat.”

  “I know you think it’s odd that our families don’t get along, but Cartland is a good example of why.”

  “Odd” wasn’t the word I’d use, but I let that pass too and just nodded my head.

  “Cartland thought the world should be brought to him on a silver platter. His parents and grandparents didn’t do anything to dissuade him of that notion.”

  “He sounds like Steve Kincheloe.”

  Vivi pursed her lips for a moment. “Not quite as bad. Cartland’s family actually had a silver platter or two. He made it through college and was an excellent tennis player. Cartland just didn’t have any ambition.”

  “Was he connected with anything that would have made him murder three people and disappear?”

  “I can’t imagine him having enough energy to plan and pull off something like that. The money streamed to him through his family. He’d be cutting off his nose to spite his face.”

  “What about Susan?”

  “She was one of my best friends.”

  That was a surprise. “Did you meet her after she and Phillip married?” Since Susan had grown up in Birmingham, it was unlikely they knew each other as children.

  “No. We went to the same college and pledged the same sorority. Everyone called us ‘the twins’ because we were inseparable.”

  Vivi had suffered a lot of loss—her daughter, her dear friend, and Boone. That had to take a toll on a person.

  “She met Phillip when she came home with me one weekend. He was just a bit older than us. Phillip had already graduated and was working. They fell hard and fast for each other.” Vivi smiled at the memory.

  “I’ve heard about Susan’s family. Did they approve?”

  “Not at first. I think they hoped she would marry one of the Long boys and solidify the relationship of the law firm partners. But Susan was headstrong, and they came around.” Vivi shook her head. “It might have been better if they hadn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure being the wife of a defense contractor kept her in the lifestyle she was accustomed to. Her parents paid for their country club membership. There was quite a row between her and Phillip over that. But Phillip relented. He always did. However, as the years went on, they led more and more separate lives. Susan spent most of her time at the club and Phillip at work.”

  Wait a minute. Phillip had told me theirs was a great love story. He hadn’t indicated that they had problems. Although it might explain why he followed his third wife to her tennis games.

  “How did Phillip react when she didn’t come home that night?” Maybe Phillip was behind the disappearance. “It couldn’t be pleasant to live with someone you didn’t really care about.” I couldn’t imagine. My parents were so in love it was almost sickening.

  “He was devastated and guilty.”

  “Guilty because he had something to do with it?” I asked.

  “Guilty because they’d grown apart. That he hadn’t accepted Susan for who she was. He spent many an evening in here crying after the bar closed. I cried with him most nights.”

  I put my hand on her arm and she covered my hand with hers for a moment before moving away. “I’ve never seen him in here.” Vivi’s story conflicted with what Phillip had said, although maybe that was just how he wanted to remember things.

  “He moved to Seaside about six months after Susan and the others disappeared. He cut himself off from everything that had to do with his old life. People deal with grief in different ways.”

  “Any chance he moved because he was in to something fishy? I’ve read lots of articles about defense contractors making deals to increase their own wealth. Maybe he was doing something illegal that ended up getting Susan and the others killed.”

  “I can’t imagine that. He was always a straight arrow.”

  No one wanted to think their friends could do anything wrong. I knew that now more than ever with the whole controversy over Boone’s will. “What about Blake Farwell?” He was my last hope that Vivi would say he was a drunk, drug-addicted gambler who robbed people and had a long list of charges against him. Someone I could delve into to prove Ralph wasn’t involved. But inexplicably, Vivi’s face softened and a smile played around the edges of her lips for a second.

  I’d never seen her look like that before. Not even around Wade. I knew she loved Wade, but maybe as a friend instead of as a potential love interest. It made me think of Boone and me. I hoped Vivi wouldn’t go through what I had, realizing too late I might have lost out on something special. The look also made me realize I knew nothing about Vivi’s husband or what happened to him. I didn’t remember seeing any photos of him at her home or in the Sea Glass. Another mystery, but one for another time.

  “Were you in love with Blake?” I blurted it out. I hadn’t meant to.

  Vivi straightened into what I had come to call her Queen Vivi pose. No one wanted to be around Vivi when she pulled it. When she combined the pose with the drawl you knew you were in trouble. But then she relaxed. Thank heavens.

  “That’s none of your business,” Vivi said.

  CHAPTER 30

  That was a yes in my book. Now I’d have to interpret everything through a lens that may be rosier than was true. “Was he in business with Jed?”

  “Yes. Like so many in Emerald Cove, it was a family business.”

  “Did they get along?” A good family conflict would be an excellent reason for murder and mayhem. Jed certainly hadn’t seemed like he was a big fan of his brother and he would know all about boats and how to sabotage one. Maybe he thought his brother would be alone on the boat that night.

  “As well as anyone. They divided the business in two. Jed loved being out on the boat and Blake built the business and did the books.”

  “Any hint of him cooking the books, as they say?”

  “Blake was kind to a fault. He helped at the animal shelter and rescued more than one animal. If he’d been a woman, he would have been called a crazy cat lady.”

  Another annoying stereotype about women that didn’t apply to men, but I needed to focus on the matter at hand. “So, you don’t think he’d do anything illegal with their bookkeeping?”

  “No.” Vivi said. She stood up. “I’m tired.

  Vivi rarely admitted to being anything less than 100 percent but this was the second time in a few days. It worried me. “Go home. I’ll lock up.”

  Vivi gathered her things. “Maybe you should let this all drop.”

  I hated dredging up painful memories, but on the other hand I wanted to help Ralph. I didn’t answer her. Vivi left and I did a bit more cleaning up, thinking about each of the people who’d disappeared on the Fair Winds. Delores had a reason to want Raquel gone—so she could be with Ralph. Phillip seemed to have gone through a lot of wives. Maybe he was a philanderer at heart and wanted to move on. Jed wasn’t happy with his brother’s work ethic. It didn’t sound like Cartland was in a happy marriage, so maybe Rip’s mom was looking for a way out. But all of that seemed like petty reasons for killing four people, if that was what had happened.

  I locked up. Vivi may have wanted me to drop this, but I wasn’t about to.

  * * *

  I walked out of the bar after my talk with Vivi determined to find Ann only to see her leaning against my car. That was a surprise. She wore her usual black. This time black leather leggings, biker boots, and a b
lack, long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  No kidding. I’d only been looking for her all over the place—well, at Two Bobs. I managed to keep that all in. “Okay. Here?”

  “Let’s go to your place. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing us.”

  That sounded serious. “Do you need a ride?”

  “No. I’ve got my bike.” She pointed to a motorcycle.

  Of course she had a motorcycle—a sleek, bulletlike black one. It fit her perfectly. It was like a machine version of her. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”

  I watched as she straddled the bike, picked up her helmet, and swung her enviable, long, wavy hair over her shoulder. She snapped on the helmet, started the bike, and roared off, leaving only some dust in her wake.

  Fifteen minutes later we were settled in the living room, each with a beer. Mine from a local brewery, hers from A&W. As fit as Ann was, I was surprised she drank pop. I’d offered her a glass and ice, but she’d said she preferred to drink right out of the can. Even though it was a lovely night to sit out on the porch, we were inside with the windows closed. Ann had insisted. She didn’t want anyone to overhear us.

  I took a long drink from my beer, bracing myself for what was to come.

  “I found another red boat. It was owned by a tangle of partnerships and LLCs. But I finally found the name behind it all.”

  “Who?” I put down my beer, worrying it would shake right out of my hand. At last some progress.

  “Rip Barnett.”

  CHAPTER 31

  If stomachs could have pits, mine had one. Like a black hole. I stood up and grabbed my purse.

  “Where are you going?” Ann asked.