Mermaids of Bodega Bay

by Mary Birk

  “If not, I suppose you want him to stay here?” The delicate part of Jeanne’s probing was apparently over.

  “I think it’s the least we can do since he’s staying to help Andrew. I thought I’d make up the blue room for him.”

  Jeanne looked at her as if she were crazy. “The blue room? Really?”

  Anne knew her face was bright red, but hoped the low lights concealed her agitation. “Is something wrong with that room?”

  “Yeah…I’d say so.” Jeanne stretched out her reply as if talking to an idiot. “Anne, think about it, for God’s sake. It was practically your honeymoon suite.”

  “He likes that room. He likes the view.”

  “The view? Did you even let him out of bed to see the view?”

  That was too much and Anne knew she was going to cry. She surrendered. “Jeanne, don’t tease me tonight. I can’t take it. I’m a mess.”

  Jeanne gathered her close. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to stay here, sweetie. We’ve just gotten you back to almost normal.”

  “I can handle it. And it won’t bother him. He doesn’t care about me like that anymore.” Anne pulled out of her sister’s arms, went over to the bed and sat down, putting her face in her hands. “Jeanne, it was so awful. He made me say it—that I was sleeping with Andrew. You should have heard his voice. It was ice.” She turned, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

  Jeanne’s voice was skeptical. “I have a feeling that ice isn’t as deep as you think it is, though God knows, we’ll all be better off if it is.”

  Chapter 19

  REID LEFT the FBI’s evidence team to their work and crossed the driveway from the Colony house to the barn that held the business offices and studios. He craned around to examine Anne’s renovation project, able to determine the dimensions from stakes punched in the ground at regular intervals.

  The garden spread like a gigantic full skirt around the house, narrower on the side that bordered the sea, wider on the side that faced the road. Mountains of bricks were stacked up in one area, great slabs of gray stones in another, and redwood studs in yet another. A variety of what Reid assumed were sculptures were grouped together and covered with tarps. Large trees dotted sections of the entire project, recently planted from the obviously new supports that anchored them down from the wind.

  Anne certainly had her hands full here. He was sure she had a vision of what it would look like when she was finished, but he couldn’t see it.

  Inside the former barn, the office door was open. A man who had to be Frank Bolton sat at a large walnut desk, bending down over some documents.

  The man put down his pen and stood. “Come on in, Superintendent Reid. Andrew said you’d be coming to talk to me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “If it’s no trouble.”

  “No trouble. Take anything in it?”

  “Just black.”

  Bolton went over to the coffee maker on a table behind Reid and poured them each a cup. He put one in front of Reid, then went back around the desk and sat down, visibly distraught.

  “This is so unbelievable. I just saw Lenore last night. Right before the party. Andrew and Anne were taking her up to bed, and I was teasing her about her fairy princess outfit.”

  “That was the last time you saw her?”

  “Right.”

  “When did you leave the Colony last night?”

  “About midnight. I had to wait until the caterers got everything packed up and out, and there were some artists leaving last night that I needed to take care of. I ship their work to them if they don’t take it with them, check out their cabin, things like that.” Bolton picked up a sheaf of papers and handed it across the desk to Reid. “I put together a list of the artists, their guests, the guests from the party last night, the caterers, the valet service, and everyone’s addresses. Also, Andrew asked me to make a list of recent visitors to the Colony and workmen. I included Anne’s list of construction workers and gardeners and their license plates that she gave me so I could monitor things for security. She’s pretty thorough about it, and you can tell some have been crossed out and others added as she’s had changes.”

  “Great, thanks.” Reid thumbed through the lists, and absently rubbed the handwriting on the list Anne had made. Her handwriting was neat and regulated, with occasional unexpected flourishes to the right. “You don’t live here at the Colony?”

  “Not anymore. I did for years. I had the apartment over the garage, but now I have a place in town.”

  “Live alone?”

  “Most of the time. My kids come visit me sometimes. They live on the east coast with their mother.”

  “You’ve been working here how long?”

  Bolton took a drink of coffee and thought. “A little over seven years.”

  “These your kids?” Reid picked up a framed photograph of three children on a sailboat that sat on the man’s desk.

  He nodded. “Two girls and a boy.”

  “Where out east?”

  “Philadelphia. They’re coming out here this summer to visit.”

  “Tell me about the big sale. The Marisol Series.”

  “Right. Andrew had done twenty-four paintings of Marisol. The series we sold included twenty of them.”

  “All oils?”

  “Yes. His finished paintings are almost all oils.”

  “Who bought them?”

  “A Japanese gazillionaire.”

  “Any problems with the sale or from the buyer?”

  “No. It was an auction. The buyer wasn’t actually there himself. He had someone there with authority to bid for him. Everything went exactly like it was supposed to. The money was wired to the auction house, and Andrew’s share was paid promptly.”

  “The paintings went for what, a hundred million?”

  “Actually a little over.”

  “Does Andrew get all the money?”

  “A lot, but not all. There are expenses, taxes, and I’m getting a bonus out of it.” Bolton eyed him with undisguised curiosity. “You sound like you’re British or something. Did you say you’re with the FBI?”

  Reid shook his head. “I’m actually a Scottish police superintendent, but Andrew asked me to help out. The FBI is here as well. The FBI agent in charge of the case, Jack Shelton, will be here soon, and he’ll bring Andrew with him. Andrew’s over at the Mermaids right now while the FBI’s evidence team is working in the house.”

  Bolton rolled his eyes. “He would be. With Anne, of course. ”

  “Yes.” Reid took a drink of his coffee.

  “He can’t stand to be away from her. No matter what’s happening, even for Lenore. It’s like he’s bewitched.”

  Reid consciously released his clenching jaw. “In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I’m Anne’s husband.”

  “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” Bolton shook his head, and Reid could feel the man appraising him with a new eye. “She married a policeman? A Scottish policeman?”

  “Aye, that she did.” Reid tried for a wry smile. “Everyone’s entitled to an occasional lapse in judgment. But we’re separated. She’s free to do as she pleases.”

  “Excuse me for asking, but why the hell are you here?”

  “Just happened to be visiting.” Reid weighed whether to continue what seemed to be the misconception that he’d come to have her sign the annulment paperwork, but decided not to bother. It certainly wasn’t any of this man’s business.

  “I would have thought she’d have married someone rich or famous, or something. Kudos to you.” Bolton held up his coffee cup in salute. “Halleluiah and praise the Lord. There’s hope for us ordinary guys who lust after goddesses.” He put his cup down. “Even if it’s only temporary, it would be worth it.”

  Reid almost wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Indeed.” He brought the discussion back to the investigation. “Last night, did you see or hear anything that seemed off? Any
thing at all?”

  Bolton seemed to consider. “Nothing that would have had anything to do with Lenore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing, really. There was a lot of talk about the Marisol Series sale, about how Andrew had done so well. The family was already wealthy, but this sale took them, or at least Andrew, to a new level.”

  “Anyone seem especially put out by that?”

  “Not really put out.” Bolton leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want anything I say to get back to the Graingers. It doesn’t have anything to do with Lenore.”

  “Then there wouldn’t be any reason for me to say anything.” Reid inclined his head to encourage the other man to continue.

  “Graham, Andrew’s older brother, has always been a little envious of Andrew’s success, though in his own field he’s well-respected and extremely successful. He just doesn’t get the kind of fame, or money, for that matter, as Andrew does. It probably doesn’t help that Andrew has a daughter and Graham and his wife haven’t been able to have children yet. Old man Grainger hasn’t been too subtle about making his kids know he wants more grandchildren, and with Lenore’s health the way it is, he’s gotten worse.”

  “Isn’t she expected to live?”

  “I’m not sure, but I know what’s wrong with her is serious.”

  “Do Andrew and Graham have siblings?” Reid didn’t think this line of questioning was going anywhere, but it couldn’t hurt.

  “Two sisters. Ellen, who’s gay and Julia who is adamant that she doesn’t want any children.”

  So why, if this child was so important to the Grainger family, was the ransom demand so low? Such a low demand to a family with more than enough money to pay more could indicate that the ransom demand was a blind. Reid considered his next question carefully before asking it.

  “Can you think of anyone who might have a reason to get rid of Lenore?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Reid didn’t answer, just let Bolton draw his own conclusions. It was as if the room held its breath until the man finally spoke.

  “Andrew.”

  Chapter 20

  REID CLOSED the Grainger Colony House’s kitchen door behind him, wiped his feet on the mat, ignoring an obviously furious Jack Shelton leaning against the granite island.

  Shelton had clearly been waiting for him, and the wait hadn’t been good for the FBI agent’s disposition. He pushed away from the counter, vibrating with rage. “You damned well should have told me about your wife and Andrew Grainger when you called me. What the hell were you thinking, Reid? You can’t be here. You can’t have anything to do with this investigation. ”

  Reid’s eyes scanned the room, ensuring they were alone. “Guid to see you, too.”

  Shelton’s bubble of righteous indignation wasn’t deflated. “You didn’t think it might be important to mention that your wife is sleeping with the kidnapped kid’s father?”

  Reid tried for a nonchalance he did not feel. “We’re separated.”

  “So fucking what?”

  “I don’t see the problem,” Reid lied. “I happened to be here, they asked my advice. I told them to call you.” He hated calling Anne and Grainger they, but it gave his lie credence. “Want some coffee?” He moved over to the coffee maker and poured himself another cup of coffee he didn’t want.

  Shelton scowled. “I just had a gallon of coffee with your in-laws and your wife’s boyfriend. And your wife.”

  “That’s a no on the coffee, then?” Reid knew Shelton would shoot this story through the gossip wires of the FBI, but at least Shelton wouldn’t be able to report back that Reid had been wounded by Anne’s defection.

  “I wouldn’t help her if I was you.”

  “Lucky for her, I’m not you.”

  “Chief McLendon knows about Anne and Grainger?”

  “Appears to. I don’t think they’re keeping their relationship a secret.” Reid blinked slowly. “As I said, we’re separated.”

  “She said you left her. What did she do?”

  “Nothing. We just have different priorities.”

  “What’s that mean? She thinks she can sleep around and you don’t agree?”

  “Stop being a bloody prick. We’re separated. She can see other men.”

  Shelton shook his head. “And you’re okay with it? I’d wish them both on their merry way to hell.”

  Reid repeated, “We’re separated.”

  “So, you’re fucking other women?”

  Before Reid could stop himself, he snapped, “Of course not.”

  Shelton sighed. “Of course not. You’re still wearing your ring. She’s not.”

  Aiming for an appropriate air of casual camaraderie, Reid smiled. “Jack, laddie, you’re such a detective. Perhaps she just has a wider selection of jewelry to choose from than I do. Don’t you have a kidnapping to investigate?”

  “You can’t be involved in the investigation.”

  “I didn’t ask to be.”

  “They want you.”

  “Who?”

  “Grainger and his mistress, oh right, your wife.”

  Shelton was deliberately trying to provoke him, but Reid didn’t let himself react.

  “Jack, I’ve a feeling you’re projecting from your own experiences, but you’re off the mark here.” As much as Reid despised sharing his personal problems, he knew he needed to give Shelton enough of an explanation to get him to back off. “Anne and I have been separated over a year. Not that it’s any business of anyone but hers and mine, but we realized we’re not a good match. She wants to live in the States, I’m not interested in leaving Scotland. I want a big family right away, and she wants a career. Selfish bastard that I am, I told her that I was filing for an annulment. Unbeknownst to her, and through absolutely no fault of hers, I haven’t gotten around to getting the papers seen to until now.”

  Shelton glared at him, glomming on, as Reid had guessed he would, to the reference to Shelton’s own life. “What do you know about my experiences?”

  “Just what I’ve heard.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Your wife left you for another man. You walked in on them.”

  “Fuck. People are talking about that? Still?”

  “Not still. I just happened to remember it.”

  Shelton shook his head violently and ran his hands through his hair. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How do you deal with it?”

  “I just have to face the fact that I’m impossible as a husband in the modern world.”

  “Maybe you should look for your next woman in Scotland. There’s got to be someone who will overlook you being way too religious on account of your being rich, and give you a bunch of brats.”

  Reid nodded and drew his lips back into what he hoped approximated a smile. “Or perhaps I should give up and become a priest.”

  Shelton grimaced. “That seems kind of drastic.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You can’t be involved in the investigation.”

  Reid shrugged. “You want to tell Grainger or should I?”

  “I will. Sorry I’ve got to cut you loose right now.” Shelton shook his head. “Fuck, what a mess. I’ve got to go right now and get ready for the call. But when this is over, St. Terrence, let’s get roaring drunk.”

  “Amen.”

  Chapter 21

  THE MAN STANDING across from Jack didn’t bear more than a passing resemblance to the grief-stricken Andrew Grainger he’d dealt with earlier. This man reeked fumes of power, authority, and entitlement.

  “Agent Shelton, I think I was very clear that I wanted Terrence Reid to be involved—not just involved, but equally in charge. That was the only reason I let myself be convinced to call your people in. If he goes, you and all your team go as well and I’ll handle things on my own.”

  Great, that was all he needed, Jack thought. A super-egotistical celebrity throwing a temper tantrum when a child’s life was at stake.

  “I’m sure you can u
nderstand that your relationship with his wife could influence Reid’s ability to participate in this investigation impartially and effectively.”

  Grainger’s eyes were hard. “Did he say that?”

  Shelton shook his head. “No, but I’ve known Reid for years. I have a hard time believing he’s comfortable with this situation.”

  Grainger’s eyebrows raised. “So is your issue with him being comfortable or with him compromising the investigation?”

  “His involvement could hamper getting a conviction of the person or people we eventually charge with this crime. Their lawyers will argue that Reid’s feelings for his wife blinded him to evidence implicating her and possibly you.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “They’ll come up with all kinds of reasons that Reid’s bias contaminated the investigation. Believe me.”

  “Do you think he’d do something like that?”

  Shelton shook his head. “He’s probably the most honorable man I know. But that won’t stop the accusations.”

  “Then I suggest, Agent Shelton, that we find my daughter and worry about convicting someone later—after she’s safe. I’m not concerned about you having a successful conviction that helps your career. I’m concerned about getting my daughter back. And if Reid can help, I want him here. I’d deal with the devil himself to get my daughter back.” Grainger’s temper was contained in a steel net of control, but Shelton still felt it. “And Anne is mine. I’m not worried about losing her to him. He treated her like crap. He doesn’t want her, and I’m not giving her up. But she says he’s good at what he does, and if he can help get my daughter safely back to me, I want him here.”

  Shelton tried to breathe through his anger. “It’s a mistake.”

  “Then it’s my mistake and I’ll take responsibility for it. Do I need to go over your head or can we agree to work together on this?”

  *****

  Reid headed out to his rental car. Part of him wanted to talk to Anne before he left town, but the wiser part of him knew that would be a mistake. He’d done everything wrong with Anne so far, and there was no reason to think anything else he did wouldn’t make as big a mess. He couldn’t decide whether to lay the blame for his idiotic behavior at his lack of experience with women or something more intrinsically wrong with him. His comment to Shelton about becoming a priest wasn’t entirely outside of the realm of possibilities. Unfortunately, his responsibilities to his family made such a choice untenable.