Ginger Carpenter was a woman whose beauty was secondary to her personality. Not that she wasn’t beautiful—she was to him. But her strength and outspoken charm was most striking at first meeting. The combined attractiveness of her antique copper hair, freckles, warm brown eyes and that indefinable inner glow—though sometimes it was the glow of hot anger—wasn’t easily forgotten.
Ray had never even tried.
Surprisingly, her response to him today had encouraged him. A heated battle with Ginger was much preferable to being frozen out of her life, as he had been since last March. Sure, today she’d been trying to persuade him to allow her back on the mission field, but at least she was talking to him.
He watched as she ran into the waves up to her knees, splashing with the abandon of a child. How he would have loved, years ago, to be a part of her life. But she had made it obvious that she didn’t believe romance would ever be a possibility for her again. She saw herself as old at fifty-three.
She had been married and divorced, then married and widowed. She had two grown sons from her first marriage, and lots of good memories from her second. Her boys were healthy and well-adjusted and living in Missouri; one in Kansas City and one in St. Louis. Both married, both without children yet, though Ginger was hopeful.
Ray smiled when a wave caught Ginger by surprise and nearly knocked her off her feet.
“Now there’s a lady who knows how to have fun and make a fool of herself at the same time” came a voice from behind Ray.
He glanced around to see Larry Bager, dressed in the white slacks and red and blue Hawaiian shirt, which Willow had decided would be the uniform of the day for the men in the wedding party. The concierge had delivered the shirts earlier this morning from Hilo Hattie’s in Lihue.
Ray didn’t see any evidence of Larry’s gun this morning. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Not yet. Graham told me you and Preston will be available to watch over the kids all day today.”
“Of course. Let me know what you need. It would help if I knew what Rick Fenrow looked like.”
Larry pulled a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, unfolded it and handed it to Ray. “That’s pretty recent, but don’t count on the exact appearance. I expect the black hair and bushy black eyebrows to be changed, but he sure can’t fix that ski-ramp nose or those thin lips.”
“He could’ve grown a mustache,” Ray said. “That could change a lot of things.”
Larry grunted his agreement. “And his eye color could be altered with contact lenses.”
Larry nodded his head toward Ginger, who walked along the edge of the water, head down, sandals dangling from her hand. “Tell her next time she wants me to help you chase chickens, she needs to tell me, and not scare me to death with some story about a man lurking in the shadows.”
“She could have seen someone.”
Larry stared after her for another few seconds. “I spoke with the girl at the front desk, and there was a call in the early morning hours from a florist shop asking for the room number of Willow Traynor.”
“A florist shop from where?” Ray asked.
“A legitimate one from here in Poipu. When the clerk told the caller that the bellman would deliver the flowers to the room once they arrived at the hotel, the caller disconnected. No flowers are yet in evidence. Since the hotel office has caller ID, and since they did see the number for that particular florist shop, I’m still trying to find out what’s going on with that. There could be a legitimate mistake somewhere along the line.”
“Whose names were registered last night when we checked in?” Ray asked. “Steve and Helen handled all of that.”
“Helen has assured me that she and Steve registered under their own names due to the increased safety concerns.”
“But Rick Fenrow would already know where we’re staying because of the information he would have found at Graham’s house,” Ray said. “I doubt he’ll stop at a simple telephone call, if that was him.”
Larry shook his head. “Fenrow’s proven in the past that he’s willing to go to any lengths for his revenge. I’ve already spoken with hotel security and the local police. I’ve made sure everyone has a photograph faxed to their offices.”
“I’ll do all I can to help. In fact,” Ray said, nodding toward the slight bulge he finally detected beneath Larry’s shirt, “I’d be more than happy to pack some heat, myself.”
Larry eyed him with interest. “You know how to shoot?”
“I’ve carried a weapon for protection from time to time in my line of work.”
“I heard you were a pediatrician,” Larry said, obviously not impressed.
“Among other things. I know how to handle a pistol. Got one for me?”
“No, but I can get one if I feel it’s warranted. I’ll let you know.”
“Graham can handle a pistol, too,” Ray said.
“Yes, but it’s Graham’s wedding day. No man should have to worry about this kind of thing on the day he’s losing his freedom.”
“He needs to be able to protect himself and his family.”
Larry nodded. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Did you get a weather report last night?”
“Sure did. We may see a storm by tonight, but aside from some rough waters and hefty winds, we should be okay for the wedding.” Larry glanced once more toward Ginger on the beach, then back at Ray. “Now, if we can keep any other kinds of storms from breaking out today, we should be set.”
Lucy smashed her waffle with her fork and placed a small bite in her mouth. It tasted good, but she wasn’t hungry. How could she eat when there were so many things to see? Especially since she and Brittany popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave in their room as soon as they got up this morning. It woke up poor Aunt Ginger, but she didn’t yell at them.
“There are my two special little girls!” came a voice from behind Lucy, and she turned to see Helen Courtney pulling an empty chair from the next table.
The lady placed two huge gift bags on the floor, one beside Lucy’s chair, and one beside Brittany’s, then sat down and gave them another big smile.
The bag beside Brittany was pink, her favorite color. Lucy’s was red. How did Helen know?
“Want to see your present?” Helen asked, nudging the red gift bag closer to Lucy. “I picked it out especially for you. Go ahead, open it and see what I got you.”
Lucy loved presents. She’d gotten more of those since moving in with Graham and Aunt Ginger than she’d ever even seen when Mama was alive. But she wasn’t sure of this one. She eyed the shiny red bag. It wasn’t as big as Brittany’s bag.
“What’s in it?”
Helen laughed. “You’re supposed to open it and see.”
Lucy watched Brittany pull a beautiful white stuffed bear out of her pink bag. Her eyes widened, and she clapped her hands. “A friend for Chuckles!”
Lucy wasn’t impressed. What could a little kid do with a white bear besides get it dirty?
“Maybe they’re cousins,” Helen suggested. “Anyway, he’s all nice and clean and huggable. I thought maybe you’d like to give Mr. Chuckles a little bit of a rest, and make friends with this bear instead. You can give him a name, comb his hair, and meanwhile I’ll give Mr. Chuckles a bath.”
Brittany’s smile died. “But Mr. Chuckles is a bear, silly. Bears don’t take baths. Don’t you know that?”
Lucy reached into her red bag and pulled out a huge piece of green cloth with bright pink, purple and blue flowers.
“That’s a wrap for your swimsuit, sweetheart,” Helen said. “You can use it as a cover-up when we go to the beach. You’ll look like a beautiful Hawaiian princess.”
Lucy touched the cloth and held it against her cheek. It felt soft, and it looked like Hawaii’s flowers.
Helen smiled, her face filling with wrinkles. Lucy liked her.
“Now,” Helen said, turning back to Brittany. “I know a bear doesn’t have to take a bath when he lives in the
forest, because he gets a bath whenever it rains.” Helen reached for the toy in question. “But Chuckles doesn’t have that option. Why don’t we give him a nice, cool wash in the hotel washing machine so he won’t feel out of place with the rest of us washed bears.”
Brittany’s mouth flew open, and she grabbed Chuckles out of Helen’s hands. “No! We can’t ever wash him, Mama said so. You leave him alone!”
“Brittany,” Willow warned. “That’s no way to behave with someone who is giving you a gift. Haven’t we discussed how important it is to be polite?”
Brittany only held Chuckles tighter. “Mama said we must never wash him, must never let anyone else have him, must take good care of him.”
“I know, but Helen went to a lot of trouble to pick out this special present for you, and she’s treated you with nothing but kindness. Now thank her.”
Brittany set her lips and jutted out her chin, and she glared at Helen. “I don’t want some stupid white bear.”
“Brittany!” Lucy shouted. “Don’t be such a brat!”
Brittany ignored her. “Chuckles is mine, and you can’t have him!” She slid from her chair and ran from the room.
Willow got up and rushed after her.
Lucy felt her face turn hot.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Helen said. “I was so worried about germs, you see, and especially after a long flight, that I thought—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Graham assured her. “We’ll need to work with Brittany a little about her manners.”
Lucy cringed. Why did her little sister have to be a brat at the worst times?
Helen left the table, and had just reached the door when Lucy caught her breath. She hadn’t even thanked Helen for the present.
While Graham returned to the buffet table for seconds, and Willow knelt outside the double glass doors talking to Brittany, Lucy scooted from her chair. She ran after Helen, following her outside into a stone-paved garden that overlooked the ocean. There were chairs and tables set up here, and Helen joined her husband at a table.
“I’ll never forgive Sandi for what she did to those little girls,” Helen said, her voice sharp as she sank down beside Steve.
Lucy stopped at the mention of her mother’s name. Neither Helen nor Steve saw her, as they sat facing the ocean.
“You don’t have a choice now,” Steve said. “She’s dead.”
Helen picked up her milk and took a sip. “It didn’t have to be that way.”
“Lucy!” came Graham’s frantic voice from the doorway.
Steve and Helen turned as Graham rushed to Lucy and took her arm. “Sweetheart, you need to let us know where you are at all times. Don’t go running off like that. You gave us a scare.”
Lucy met Helen’s gaze, saw her eyes widen, and her lips part, then Helen exchanged glances with Steve.
“I—I’m sorry,” Lucy murmured to Graham. “I wanted to thank Helen for the present. I thought since I was with Helen, I’d be…safe.”
Before Helen could respond, Lucy tugged on Graham’s hand and pulled him back inside. Why were they talking about Mama like they knew her?
FIFTEEN
On Tuesday afternoon, Lucy stood beside a railing of the large boat—they called it a pontoon—and held tightly to her sister’s hand. Branches and vines, green and grasping, seemed to reach toward them from the shore as their boat chugged up the Wailua River toward the Fern Grotto.
“Sissy, stop it. You’re hurting me!” Brittany tried to pull away.
Lucy wouldn’t let her go. “Then hold on to the rail.”
“Ouch!”
Aunt Ginger shot Lucy a warning look over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Lucy. You can relax.”
Pressing her lips into a tight line, Lucy released Brittany’s hand only to grab her by the shoulders.
Brittany tried to shrug her off. “Let me go!”
“Stop whining,” Lucy whispered. “People will think you’re a little brat.” Which she was. But sometimes the warning worked because Brittany liked people to like her.
Most of the time it didn’t work.
Aunt Ginger finally turned and leaned toward Lucy, took her hands and made her let go of Brittany. “I said you could relax.” She smelled good, like the flower in her hair.
Lucy resisted the urge to grab Brittany again. “Why are you wearing your flower at the back of your head instead of over your ear, Aunt Ginger? The lady at the store told me a single woman’s supposed to wear her flower over the—”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think anyone cares whether or not I’m married. Besides, I don’t want anyone to think I’m some desperate female looking for a man, because I’m not.”
“Okay.” Lucy sighed.
“Lucy, remember what we talked about last night?” Aunt Ginger could be firm when she wanted to. Not mean, just firm. Like today.
Lucy nodded. They’d talked about a lot of things after lights-out, when Aunt Ginger and Willow, Lucy and Brittany had sat listening to the waves through the screen on the window. It had been fun—what Lucy always thought a girls’ sleepover would be like—not that she’d ever been to one.
So why was Aunt Ginger so cranky now?
“You’re supposed to be a little calmer with your sister,” Aunt Ginger said.
Oh. That’s the talk she meant. Lucy sighed.
“You don’t need to be her bodyguard every single second. You need to enjoy this day, and let her enjoy it, too.”
Lucy looked at Brittany, who stuck out her tongue. What if Brittany fell into the water? They wore bright, flowery dresses, and they had flowers in their hair. The dresses wouldn’t look pretty all wet from the river. And what if a crocodile ate Brittany before she could be saved?
Helen had told Lucy that there weren’t any crocodiles in Hawaii, but Uncle Preston didn’t think Helen knew much. What if she didn’t know about crocodiles?
Helen knew about Mama, though. That was something Lucy couldn’t forget. How did Helen and Steve know Mama?
Aunt Ginger put an arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “We’ll be passing a traditional Hawaiian village in a few minutes.”
“Are we going to stop and look at it?” Lucy asked.
“No. It seems we only have the boat for two and a half hours, and so we have to do the exchange of vows and get back down the river.” She shook her head and muttered, “Not exactly the romantic upriver cruise we’d expected, but we’ve got to get back in time for the luau, anyway.”
“What’s that?” Lucy asked. “Nobody ever told me.”
“It’s when they roast a pig in the ground, and then dig it up and eat it with poi.”
“Eww. What’s poi?”
Aunt Ginger chuckled at the look on Lucy’s face. “It’s taro root, honey. You know, for Hawaiians, it’s the same as potatoes are for us.”
“So a luau is a dinner of dirty, burned pork and potatoes?” Lucy shook her head. It didn’t take much to make grown-ups happy, did it?
“They also have a show of the traditional dances and stories of the history of Hawaii.”
Lucy frowned. “A history lesson, too?”
“Boring,” Brittany said.
“I don’t think you’ll be bored,” Aunt Ginger assured them both.
Lucy sighed. She couldn’t wait until they could go swim at the beach. But would it be safe? If there could be alligators or crocodiles in this river, couldn’t they also swim out to the beach? And what if Steve and Helen knew about them, and were lying because they wanted—
Aunt Ginger chuckled again, and Lucy looked up and met her gaze.
With a warm smile, Aunt Ginger bent over and kissed Lucy on the forehead, then rubbed at the spot to wipe away the lipstick. Aunt Ginger hardly ever wore lipstick.
“Sweetheart, I can see that mind of yours traveling a million miles an hour. What are you thinking about right now?”
“Crocodiles.” And Helen and Steve.
Aunt Ginger laughed out loud.
“Don’t make fun
of me,” Lucy said. But she wasn’t mad. She loved hearing Aunt Ginger laugh, especially about crocodiles. If it was something to laugh about, then she knew she didn’t have to worry.
“I’ll try not to, but there are no crocodiles in these waters.”
“That man at the dock said it was only a matter of time before someone sneaked a pet crocodile or alligator into Hawaii and set it loose. That would be horrible.”
“It would, yes, but that’s one more thing you don’t have to worry about today.” Aunt Ginger drew Lucy forward to join her at the railing of the boat. “You need to trust your sister a little more. She isn’t going to jump overboard and get eaten by a crocodile.”
Lucy turned and looked at Steve and Helen, who stood on the other side of the boat. And they were watching her. Again.
Ray couldn’t help eavesdropping on the conversation taking place behind him. Though he dared not glance over his shoulder at Ginger and her young charges, he couldn’t help chuckling to himself.
Until a few weeks ago, he hadn’t dreamed he would be out here in the middle of Wailua River, wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt and white slacks, dressed as best man for the wedding of one of his dearest friends.
And he hadn’t dreamed that the woman about whom he cared so much would have actually bid him a civil good morning. True, the ambience had deteriorated from there, and her courtesy had been in response to Willow’s request, but at least Ginger had tried.
Maybe that meant she would try again, even if it was an act.
Her behavior with the children, however, was not an act. Having eavesdropped shamelessly on her conversation with Lucy and Brittany at the dock while waiting for the boat, Ray had drawn several conclusions.
First, of course, was the fact that Ginger still adored kids, and she needed a job that would enable her to interact with them. Nothing new there, of course.
Second, the interactions between Lucy and Brittany were characteristic of what he’d seen in other siblings who had endured a traumatic loss. Lucy mothered Brittany, and in so doing, encouraged Brittany to revert to the behavior of a much younger child at times.
Death Benefits Page 11