by Connie Mann
His voice trailed off, and Sasha leaned forward, waiting. “What was different, Mr. Hess?” She said it quietly, not wanting to startle him from whatever he was seeing in his mind’s eye.
He shook his head as if to clear it, then met her eyes. “It was strange, really. While half the town seemed to be rushing to the marina, one vehicle was headed away from the marina.”
Sasha tried to curb her impatience. “Do you remember when that was, what kind of car?”
“It was shortly after we arrived, in the midst of the chaos, as it were. Let’s see, it was a Chevrolet, I think. A large vehicle. Gray.”
The chief had also mentioned a car leaving. Was this the same one?
“It wasn’t a police car, was it?”
“Oh no. All of those were clearly marked. But it might have been the same type. Perhaps a Crown Victoria. I don’t know that it means anything. I just found it odd that it was headed away, when everyone else was headed to the marina.”
“Did you get a glimpse of the driver? Any impression if they were male or female?” Sasha knew it was a long shot, but she had to ask.
“No, nothing like that. I was too far away.” He spread his hands. “I wish there was something else I can tell you, but it all happened so long ago.”
“Was anyone acting, I don’t know, odd in any way? Strange, given the circumstances?”
Mr. Hess cocked his head, sunlight glinting off his thick glasses. “Not really, except . . .” He trailed off again, and his expression turned sheepish, uncertain. “I know people handle grief and anxiety differently, but to me, the strangest thing that day was Sal’s behavior.”
Sasha reared back, unsure what to say. “Please tell me what you mean, sir.”
“Well, as I said, your mother was in a total panic, running hither and yon, screaming Tony’s name. Sal was, too. For a while. After the first hour or so, while the police started talking to everyone there, he just sort of . . . stopped. I saw him slumped on the bench outside the bait shop, face in his hands, hunched over, just sobbing. It was like he’d given up. But to me”—he sent her a quick glance, shrugged—“it seemed like it was much too soon for that. The search was just getting started.”
Thoughts swirled in Sasha’s mind, tangling with all sorts of questions. But they would have to wait. “You weren’t there that day, Mrs. Hess?”
She snorted, a very unladylike sound from someone who always dressed so primly. She reached up with a bony hand and fluffed her white hair. “I don’t get out in the sun. Does terrible things to your skin. You should watch yourself. Keep spending time out there and you’ll be covered in that awful melanoma before you hit forty, mark my words. Why, a friend of mine—”
Sasha cut her off by sliding out of the booth. “Thank you both so much. I appreciate your time.”
As she walked back to their table, she heard Mrs. Hess whisper, “I’ll bet my last dollar her mother is lying at death’s door.”
Sasha ignored the old lady’s words, more concerned about what Mr. Hess had said—and hadn’t said. She’d have to see if anyone else had noticed the same thing.
She looked up and saw Jesse watching her, his smile getting wider the closer she got. She couldn’t help smiling back. Nobody had ever looked at her quite the way he did, as though he saw past all the masks and defensive shields and liked her anyway. It was freeing.
And terrifying enough to make her hands shake.
She slid into the booth opposite him and glanced at the food on her plate and his half-eaten lunch.
“I was starved and Betty was getting impatient, so I ordered for both of us. You used to love their burgers.”
Sasha inhaled deeply and popped a french fry into her mouth. Nothing like grease to help her regain her equilibrium. “Nobody does burgers like the Blue Dolphin.” She had to use two hands to hold it. “This is so good,” she mumbled, taking another bite.
She looked up to find Jesse watching her, heat in his eyes. An answering spark ignited deep in her belly, and she took another bite, smiling as she did so. His nostrils flared, and she felt his bare foot rub hers under the table. Just like he’d done in high school. The spark burst into flame, and she felt his eyes drawing her closer as though he were reeling in a snapper—slow and steady.
“Are you flirting with me, Jesse Claybourne?”
His foot traveled farther up her calf, and she almost jumped in surprise, especially when his grin grew positively wicked. “Me? Since when has that ever worked on you, Sash?”
He slid his other foot up her calf, slowly, then back down, and Sasha set the burger aside, determined not to squirm. How could something so innocuous be so intense?
“Aren’t you going to eat that?” The gleam in his eyes said he knew exactly what he was doing—and that he was enjoying every minute of it.
She held it up. “Want to share?”
He leaned closer and they both took a bite at the same time. Someone snickered at a nearby booth, and just like that, the sensual spell snapped. Good grief, they were acting like a couple of teenagers at the busiest gossip hub in three counties. What were they thinking?
Sasha tucked her head down and polished off the burger, avoiding those knowing eyes.
“Ready?” he asked as he slid out of the booth.
She nodded and they headed out to his truck, the afternoon heat a slap in the face. He walked her around to the passenger side, but when he reached for her, she held out a hand to stop him, afraid suddenly of the wanting in his eyes. Especially since he would see the same in hers. This wasn’t a simple lunch flirtation. This was Jesse, and she couldn’t play games with him. Couldn’t ever take him lightly. He mattered too much.
“What are you afraid of, Sasha?”
They stared at each other, tension crackling like palm fronds in a storm, but she couldn’t move or speak. She clenched her fists to keep from reaching for him as fear and regret raced around and around in her head and made her dizzy. She thought of her father and that long-ago night in Russia, when he told her to stay home with her brother. Of his face when she happily skipped up to his meeting anyway, surprised at his anger, his fear. Of seeing her parents, dead in the car, just hours later.
What if she’d listened to Papa? What if she hadn’t ignored the rules and done what she was supposed to do? Would it have made a difference?
Terror held her still. If she ignored the warnings and followed her heart, would her selfishness destroy Jesse, too?
“Sasha Petrov? Is that you necking like a teenager in broad daylight in front of God and everybody?”
The shrill voice broke the spell, and Sasha couldn’t help a rueful smile. Imagine if they had been necking!
“Have to love small towns.” She turned and saw Captain Roy’s wife standing two rows over, hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Hi, Miss Mary Lee. You just heading inside? Hot out here today.”
Mary Lee stepped closer. “Who is that you’re . . . ooh. That Claybourne boy.” She marched over and poked a finger into Jesse’s chest. “You leave that girl alone, Jesse. And while you’re at it, you can take yourself off back to Tampa or wherever it is you hail from and leave us alone.”
Sasha glanced at Jesse. In high school, words like that would have had him swinging. “I reckon Sasha can choose her own companions, ma’am. Enjoy your lunch.” He leaned closer to Mary Lee and said quietly, “Just for the record, I’m not going anywhere.”
Mary Lee stood openmouthed in the parking lot. Then she spun on her high-heel sandals and marched off to the restaurant like a general heading into battle.
Sasha leaned against the truck and turned to Jesse with a little smile. “You’ve gone and done it now, Money-boy. Got the old biddies all riled up about my virtue.”
“I like your virtue. I want to get all kinds of familiar with your virtue, just so you know.”
Sasha laughed out loud. When Jesse opened the truck door, she changed her mind. “Are you in a big hurry?”
He shrugged. “Nothing that can�
�t wait an hour or two. Why?”
“I thought since we’re here, I might ask some of the shopkeepers what they remember about the day Tony disappeared.”
He nodded. “I’d go with you, but I don’t think you’ll get anywhere if I do.” He opened the driver’s side door and climbed in, rolled down the windows. “I’ll wait here. Take your time.”
Sasha recognized the truth in what he said, but she still felt naked and exposed as she walked down Main Street. She approached Beatrice’s Hair Affair and locked eyes with the owner through the window. As Sasha stepped through the doorway, Beatrice, a big lady whose tight gray curls hadn’t moved since Reagan was president, blocked her path.
“I’m just closing up. Sorry.”
Sasha looked around the shop. Four of the six chairs were occupied by women pretending they didn’t see her and weren’t listening to every word. The pink-smocked staff doing their hair were equally determined to ignore her. Sasha sighed.
“Look, Miss Beatrice, I don’t need my hair done. I just wanted to know what you could tell me about the day my brother, Tony, disappeared.”
Someone in the back stifled a gasp, and the silence grew louder. Beatrice opened the door and held it, waiting for Sasha to leave.
“That was a terrible tragedy that happened a long time ago. There is nothing more to be said.”
Sasha studied the woman’s closed expression and knew more questions were futile. “Thank you for your time, Miss Beatrice.”
As Sasha stepped out, Beatrice added, “Leave the past alone, Sasha. For everyone’s sake.”
Sasha walked down the street, frustrated. Why did people keep saying that?
Down the block at Annie’s Attic & Antiques, she had just reached for the doorknob when the blinds rattled down and the “Closed” sign appeared, followed by the lock snapping into place. Through the slats she could see Miss Annie, who’d seemed ancient for as long as Sasha could remember, staring her down through the gap in the blinds.
She sighed and continued down the street. She walked into Ned’s Appliance Repair, but it was empty. “Hello? Ned, are you here?”
The smell of marijuana led her out the back into the alley, but he wasn’t there. Everyone in town knew Ned smoked a joint occasionally to combat pain from injuries he’d gotten back in Vietnam. She went back inside. “Ned? I need to ask you a few questions.” She waited a few minutes, but the empty feeling in the air persisted. He’d left.
She trudged the length of Main Street and up the other side, all with the same results. No one would talk to her. When she reached Safe Harbor Auto, she made it through the office before Barry stepped around a car he was working on to tell her they were closed.
“Come on, Captain Barry. I just have a few questions about—”
He held up a hand. “I know all about your poking around the past. I can’t help you. It was twenty-three years ago, for heaven’s sake. Let the boy rest in peace, and stop harassing people. Don’t your folks have enough to worry about these days?”
She found herself on the sidewalk once more with a locked door at her back. She walked back toward the Blue Dolphin.
At the mouth of the alley that led to the restaurant’s employee parking lot, someone called her name in a whisper. Sasha looked up to see Betty motioning to her. She looked over her shoulder, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Course, that didn’t mean a thing.
Betty stubbed out her cigarette when Sasha reached her. “I know y’all were asking about Captain Alby the other day. Did you hear he died in his sleep last night?”
“What?” Sasha gasped, but kept her voice down. “We just saw him yesterday. His mind was pretty much gone, but physically, he seemed fine.”
Betty clucked her tongue. “I wondered if you’d made it over to see him. I’m sure he’s happy to be reunited with his wife, but it’s still very sad. Thought you’d want to know.”
“I can’t believe it. He was fine yesterday.”
Betty lit another cigarette, eyed Sasha through the smoke. “Strange, the timing of things sometimes.”
Sasha rubbed her arms, chilled despite the temps. She met the other woman’s eyes. “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
Betty looked away. “Just making conversation, sugar.” She glanced over at the parking lot, where Jesse leaned against his truck. “Best not leave that one waiting too long.”
Sasha studied the other woman’s face, but she kept her eyes on her cigarette. “Thanks, Betty. If you hear anything else, let me know, would you?”
“Be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
Sasha walked over to the guest parking lot, and Jesse offered a hand up into his truck. She climbed in without a word, mind spinning.
“No luck, huh?” he asked once they’d left town.
“None of the shopkeepers would talk to me, except to tell me to leave it alone.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Makes me wonder what they’re all so eager to forget.”
“Maybe nothing more complicated than the knowledge that bad things can happen to good people.”
She considered. Maybe. “Betty just told me Captain Alby died in his sleep last night.” She felt him stiffen beside her. “The timing seems off, doesn’t it?”
He raised a brow. “Maybe. And maybe it was just his time.”
“Seems like a tidy coincidence, though, doesn’t it?”
His jaw tightened but he didn’t answer.
She decided to let it go for now. “Mr. Hess was at the marina the day Tony disappeared.”
“He have anything to add?”
“Two things, both of them probably nothing. He said he remembered a car leaving the marina right in the middle of the chaos, which he thought was odd, since folks from town were showing up by the carload as the word spread.” She clasped her mariner’s cross, seeing the scene as it must have unfolded. Her mother’s grief. Pop.
“Did he give you any details?”
“Not many. The chief mentioned the same thing. I wonder if there’s a way to find out who had what kind of car back then.”
“It’s a long shot. Captain Barry would be the guy to talk to.”
“Right, and he just locked the door in my face, too. But it’s the second thing Mr. Hess said that’s weird. He remembers seeing Pop sitting on the bench outside the marina, head in his hands, sobbing. As though while the search was heating up, he gave up.”
Jesse looked over at her. “I don’t think I’d read too much into that. People react differently. Maybe he just got overwhelmed for a minute and had to take a break.”
Sasha heard his words, and they made sense from a logical, rational standpoint, but she’d always listened to her gut, and her gut was telling her that wasn’t the right reaction for Pop. He would have been right beside Mama, searching, checking, frantic.
Unless he knew something.
Jesse glanced at her face and said, “Don’t go jumping to conclusions, Sash. You weren’t there. You can’t possibly know what they were thinking.”
“If your kid turned up missing, what would you do?”
“Move heaven and earth to find him. Or her.”
Sasha folded her arms across her chest. “That’s my point. So would Pop.”
Her cell phone rang, and she fished it out of her shorts pocket before it went to voice mail. It was Blaze.
“Mama’s having a rough day. Pop needs to take her to the doctor, so you need to man the bait shop. I said I’d do it, I know how, but he won’t let me—”
“We’ll be right there. Thanks, Blaze.”
“Whatever.”
Jesse already had his foot on the accelerator, weaving around slow-moving traffic.
“Thanks, Jesse,” was all Sasha could manage. Too many emotions rushed through her system. Worry for Mama. Anxiety about Pop and what happened that day. Jesse himself. When he reached over and took her hand, that simple connection centered her more than she ever thought possible.
But she couldn’t start rel
ying on him. Or let him rely on her. She wasn’t reliable.
She hopped out the minute he pulled up in front of his shed. “Thanks for lunch. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure.”
She took that grin with her as she raced up the dock and to the house, worry keeping pace with every step.
Chapter 11
Sasha sat on the bench in front of the marina’s bait shop as evening settled in. The captains had brought their catches and tourists in, unloaded, washed down their boats and gear, and headed home. The afternoon showers had bypassed them today, so the air remained still and hot. She leaned her head back against the rough wall of the shop, trying to understand what Pop had felt that long-ago day. Panic? Certainly. Worry for Tony’s safety and Mama’s sanity? No question. Why the defeated pose as he sat here? Was he simply overwhelmed at the possible loss?
Or did he know something about what happened that he wasn’t saying?
The minute the thought formed, Sasha pushed it away. Her mind couldn’t fathom such a possibility. If Pop had known something, anything, that could help find Tony . . .
Her brain chased round and round the many questions, no closer to answers than before. When her phone rang and she saw it was Eve, she jumped on the distraction.
“Hi, Eve. How’re things in the world of environmental wackos?”
“Saying that never gets old for you, does it?”
Sasha shook her head with a little chuckle. “Nope. Never.”
“Your message said Mama was having a hard day. I just got out of a very long meeting. How is she?”
“She and Pop just got back from the clinic. They got fluids and antinausea meds into her through the chemo port, since she couldn’t keep anything down. Her color is a lot better. Pop’s, too, now that she’s feeling a little more solid.” She paused. “It’s hard to watch, Eve.”
“I know, Sasha. If I haven’t said it, thanks for being there when I can’t. I’ll never forget it. We have to keep believing God’s going to heal her.” Eve swallowed hard. Then her voice brightened and Sasha heard the effort behind the smile. “So, anything new in the search?”