Amy stared after him aware of all the things they had yet to discuss.
Jed worked undercover for the government. She couldn’t concentrate on anything except that single fact.
It was when she entered Rosie’s small, old-fashioned kitchen that Amy suddenly realized what Jed’s admission meant. If he worked for the government, then she could stop worrying about whether he was part of a dangerous conspiracy against her. Surely the Feds had no interest in what had happened on the island in October. It was a private matter. She would have had more cause to be frightened if she had learned Jed was a true mercenary like LePage.
“Here, I knew this would lure you in.” Rosie thrust Amy’s drink back into her hand and picked up her own. “Not many folks can resist my little invention.” She stirred the simmering fish chowder, then took a small taste.
“What in the world is in this guava juice, Rosie? It goes down easily, but I think I’m getting to feel the sting.”
“Delayed reaction,” Rosie explained, tipping a bottle of whiskey over the chowder. She put the bottle down on the chipped counter top and took another swallow from her guava juice cocktail. “It’s my secret recipe. Maybe I’ll write it out for you as a wedding present.”
“It might be years before I get it, then. I have no immediate plans, Rosie.” Amy kept her voice cordial but firm.
“Hah. You’re not gettin’ any younger, you know. And the good Lord knows your parents are starting to fret about you and your sister’s lack of interest in marriage.”
“Well, they’ve stopped worrying about Sylvia.” Amy found herself smiling. “She called to say the wedding’s scheduled for next week. That’s why Mom and Dad left for the mainland this afternoon. They want to vet the groom.”
Rosie gave a great crack of laughter. “Now, ain’t that just like Syl? Have everything tied up in a neat package before telling anyone about it.” She waved a dripping ladle in Amy’s direction. “You, on the other hand, were never that organized. Look at you—floundering around at your age, bringing a different man to the island every few months…”
“You’re exaggerating, Rosie, and you know it. Jed’s only the second man I’ve brought to the island. The one I brought a few months ago was just a…a diving acquaintance. And Jed’s merely a friend.”
“Sure. And if I believe that man out there with the big hands is merely a friend, you’ve got a nice bridge you can sell me, right? Come on, girl, we may be a little out of touch here on Orleana, but that don’t mean we’re stupid.”
Amy groaned. “You know I didn’t mean that.” She leaned forward to sniff the chowder, anxious to change the subject “That smells delicious. You said you had some people booked at the inn?”
“Yup, arrived a week ago to do some diving. We’re starting to get paying customers on a regular basis these days. Some of this batch will be leaving tomorrow, but we’ve actually got a few more coming in next week. Hard to believe. Made reservations yet. Just as if the place were a real hotel.” Rosie shook her head. “Orleana’s getting downright popular. We’ve even got a cruise ship calling here once a week. First thing you know the place will be crawling with tourists, just like Hawaii.”
“I doubt that. Not for another fifty or sixty years. Orleana’s just too far off the beaten track. Don’t worry, Rosie, you and Hank and Dr. Stearn and my parents will all have your privacy for a long time to come.”
“I surely hope so. I don’t think I could adjust to what you folks like to call the fast lane. I know Hank and Stearn and most of the other locals couldn’t either. Your parents are the only ones I ever knew who seemed to be able to come and go and live in both worlds. But if you ask me, since they retired here, it’s getting harder and harder for them to leave. We sure have us some good times with them here, now.”
Amy felt a small shiver of an odd and totally unexpected anticipation. She didn’t know whether she wanted to ask the next question, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand. “Do you remember what it was like when we used to come here in the old days, Rosie?”
“Sure do. My memory hasn’t gone anywhere yet. Hank and I opened this place a couple of years before you were born. Your folks and that guy who was your father’s partner used to stop in here all the time.” Rosie grabbed her glass and took another healthy swallow. Amy winced at the quantity of liquor that was going down the other woman’s throat. Rosie was apparently one of those people who believed the cook had a few privileges in the kitchen.
“I don’t remember much about those first years,” Amy prompted tentatively. Why was she doing this?
“Course you don’t. You and your brothers and sister were just babies. In fact, I remember the first time your mother carried you in here. You started squalling and I put a drop or two of whiskey on your tongue. Quieted you right down.”
“I can imagine.”
Rosie shook her head reminiscently. “Those were the days. We were all so much younger then, so full of life. Hard to believe so many years have gone by.”
Amy took a deep breath. “Do you remember when Michael Wyman died?”
“Sure do. Changed everything for your folks. We didn’t see much of them for the next few years. Occasionally they’d get out here for a week or two during the summer, but that was about it. Your dad really had a job on his hands trying to keep his company afloat after Wyman went down in his boat. And your mother, bless her heart, had her hands full raising four kids and giving your dad the kind of support he needed to survive while he kept Slater Aero alive. The two of them made a heck of a team. They stuck together under conditions that would have driven a lot of folks apart. Sometimes I think it was the best thing that could have happened to them.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, it’s hard to explain. But you gotta realize that your mother was only twenty-six by the time you came along. There she was, a young, good looking woman with four kids on her hands and a husband who was spending most of his time building an aerospace company. Before Wyman died and brought on the crisis, she was getting mighty frustrated and restless. Oh, she loved you kids and your dad, but I think she was lonesome, if you know what I mean. It sounds ridiculous, but raising four kids can make a woman feel mighty lonesome. But after Wyman disappeared, she really buckled down and devoted herself to keeping the family on an even keel while your dad built the business back up.”
“I don’t remember Wyman,” Amy said carefully. She shouldn’t be doing this. It was dangerous. The past should stay buried and she knew it. But she couldn’t help herself. She took another sip of her drink, no longer tasting it. Her attention was on Rosie.
“I remember him,” Rosie declared, sounding aggressive. “He was a born troublemaker if ever there was one. Wild. Smart as hell and knew it. Thought he owned the world and he sure as hell thought he was the important half of that aerospace company. He seemed to get his kicks from upsetting everyone. I remember the year he brought that woman with him to the island.”
Amy went cold. “What woman?”
“Some blond floozy. You know the type. Thought she was Marilyn Monroe or something. Really upset your mother, as I remember.”
“Why?” Every instinct warned Amy to stop, but she had given up even trying.
“That blond hustler made a play for your dad. Bold as brass. And all the while that Wyman fellow just grinned like a shark waiting for his food.” Rosie frowned intently over the chowder. “This looks about ready. What do you say we get the paying customers out of the way so we can eat?”
Amy nodded mutely, picking up a stack of napkins and a handful of old stainless steel spoons. She was trembling when she went out into the main room to set a table for Hank and Rosie’s inn guests.
Jed was still sitting at the bar, hunched comfortably over his glass of Scotch while he talked to Hank. He glanced at Amy when she came into the room, then turned back to his conversation with Hank.
For some time after that, Amy had no opportunity to
pursue her line of questioning with Rosie. The inn guests were loud in their praise of the fish chowder, the garlic bread Rosie had fixed to go with it and the papaya and coconut salad. They asked for seconds on everything, and Amy somehow found herself serving as waitress. It wasn’t the first time. More than once she’d dropped in to visit Rosie and Hank and found herself helping out. The truth of the matter was, she was a good waitress. To her parents despair, she had had a lot of practice during the years she’d been searching for her goals in life.
When the inn guests had finished and gone back to drinking at the bar, Rosie ladled large bowls of the chowder for herself, Amy, Hank and Jed. Hank turned the bar over to his backup, a thin young man who helped out part-time in the evenings.
The conversation was general at dinner, covering everything from island storms to the best eating fish to be found in the reefs. Amy said little. Rosie was as talkative as ever, and managed to keep Amy’s glass full along with her own. At the end of the meal Amy followed her back into the kitchen as the men wandered out to the bar. As she ran hot water into the sink to wash the dishes, Rosie poured herself yet another guava juice cocktail.
It seemed to Amy that the more Rosie imbibed, the chattier she became. Rosie had never been reticent, but with a few drinks inside her she began to talk almost nonstop. She seemed to enjoy talking about the past.
“What happened to the floozy?” Amy asked as she dried dishes.
“Well, your dad didn’t take her up on her open invitation as far as I could tell.” Rosie sounded proud of Douglas Slater’s willpower. “Wyman never brought her back to the island. She was just here that one time.”
“How long did she stay?”
“Oh, a couple of weeks or so.” Rosie finished plunging the last of the dishes into the hot water and tossed the chipped plates onto the drain board for Amy to catch and dry. “If you ask me it was deliberate. Thought so at the time and I still do”
“What was?”
“Wyman bringing that woman here. It was no secret your parents were having some personal problems of their own about that time. Having that blond bombshell around didn’t help matters. But things didn’t get really bad until after your dad had gone back to the mainland. Wyman and your mother and you kids stayed behind. Your dad said your mother needed a vacation.”
“What happened?” Amy matched Rosie’s swallow of guava juice cocktail. She was no longer feeling as though an anxiety attack was about to move in on her. In fact, the world was looking remarkably mellow now. It probably had something to do with Rosie’s secret recipe.
“Well, it looked to me like Wyman made a play for your mom.”
The news shattered some of Amy’s increasingly mellow mood. She took another sip of the cocktail to recover. Rosie was busy poring herself another glass. “Did he really?”
Rosie heaved a huge sigh and lowered her large body into a chair that looked like it would give out under her bulk at any moment. “I shouldn’t be talking to you like this. But what the hell, you’re a big girl now. And everything turned out all right in the end, didn’t it? Your parents have a real solid marriage. Everyone has troubles in the early days when the kids are little and business is putting pressure on a man. Bound to be a few problems. Go grab a chair from the bar and come sit down.”
Amy set her glass on a counter with great care, aware that things around her were becoming slightly unsteady. But Rosie was still in a chatty mood. Amy didn’t want to cut her off now. She made her way into the tavern and saw that Jed was no longer sitting at the bar.
She glanced around the room and found him at a table with a handful of other men, including Hank. They were obviously involved in a serious game of poker. Jed picked up his cards and saw Amy watching from the kitchen doorway.
“Everything okay?” he called easily.
Amy snatched up a chair, holding it in front of her as if it were a shield. “Just fine.” She turned and marched back into the kitchen.
“Jed and Hank are playing poker with some fishermen,” she told Rosie as she set down the chair.
“Then we’re in for a long night. If Hank’s dragged your man into a poker game, he won’t let go of him anytime soon. What do you say we have another drink?”
“I’m floating in guava juice as it is.”
“Well, then, let’s skip the guava juice and just concentrate on the secret ingredients.” Rosie reached for a bottle.
It was a long time later before Jed appeared in the kitchen doorway. Amy saw him through half closed eyes. He looked very large and solid in a world that had gone very misty and soft.
“Did you win?” she demanded.
“A few bucks.” There was a trace of a smile on his hard mouth as he surveyed her. He glanced at the big woman lounging in the other chair. “What have you done to her, Rosie?”
“Nothing at all. We were just reminiscing about the past.” She peered at Amy. “I think she’s feeling a little sleepy.”
“I think she’s smashed.” Jed moved forward, took hold of Amy’s hand and tugged her gently to her feet. She wavered there for a moment and then collapsed against his chest with a contented sigh.
“Is it time to go home, Jed?”
“Yes, I think it’s time.” He cradled her against him and started for the door. “Good night, Rosie. Thanks for the great meal.”
“You can come back anytime, Jed. Bring Amy with you. Been a long time since I’ve had a nice, cozy chat with another woman who knows how to drink.”
Jed glanced down at the top of Amy’s tousled head as it lay on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep. “I’m afraid Amy’s not quite in your league, Rosie. She’s basically a white wine drinker.”
“I can cure her of that.”
“Uh huh. What did you two talk about all evening?”
“Her folks for the most part. And that Wyman character who used to own half the house. Amy had a lot of questions about him. She didn’t seem to remember him, you see. She was only a baby when he disappeared.”
“I hear he was lost at sea during a trip between here and Hawaii.”
Rosie chuckled. “That’s what they say.” She nodded to herself. “That’s what they say. You take her home now, Jed. Put her to bed. She might not feel too good in the morning.”
“You’re probably right.” Jed eased Amy through the door. Amy opened her eyes a few minutes later when she felt the breeze whipping hair around her face. She blinked, trying to orient herself. It took her a moment to realize she was seated in the Jeep beside Jed and that they were whizzing through the island night. Thick green foliage crowded close to the edge of the road. She could see nothing but a wall of green on either side of the vehicle. The fresh air revived her a bit and Amy glanced at Jed.
“Did I embarrass myself?”
“Nope. You’re a very sweet drunk.”
She winced. “There is no such thing. I’m going to feel this in the morning, aren’t I?”
“Undoubtedly.” Jed shifted gears with casual precision. He smiled.
Amy decided she liked his smile. She leaned her head back on the seat again and stared straight up into the star-studded night. “Did I tell you I’m glad you work for the government, Jed?”
“No, you didn’t mention it. Why does the news make you glad? I thought you’d be…” He paused. “Concerned.”
“I’d rather you work for the government than…for just anyone who was willing to pay your price.” She was feeling drowsy again. It was hard to keep her eyes open. Even to her own ears her words sounded slurred.
“Who else would I be working for, Amy?”
She tried to shrug and didn’t quite make it. Too much work. “Same person LePage worked for, I guess. I know you can’t trust the government, but in this case I’d trust a government agent before I’d trust some damn mercenary. You know, Jed, I think I’m going to sleep well tonight. I can hardly keep my eyes open. Be nice to get a good night’s rest.”
Amy fell asleep, unaware of the
still, thoughtful speculation in Jed’s gaze as he glanced at her.
“Amy,” Jed said softly through set teeth, “what in hell have you been living with these past eight months? When you’re sober again, sweetheart, we’re going to have a little talk. I’ll be damned if I’m the only one who’s going to answer questions around here.”
Chapter 9
Artemus Fitzpatrick wasn’t particularly surprised when Renner nearly came unglued. The news was not good. “What the hell do you mean the daughter’s staying behind on the island? I thought you said we got lucky because the Slaters left early?” Renner was pacing, as usual. The impatience was gnawing at him as if it were a living thing. He told himself he couldn’t stand any more delays. There had already been twenty-five years of delays, thanks to his lush of a mother.
It was typical of his mother to deliberately keep the truth from him, Renner decided. Vivien had never been much of a parent. She’d resented the young boy after Wyman’s death, saying it was because of him she was unable to find a man to marry her. No man wanted to raise another’s kid, she claimed. Renner had obliged by leaving home as soon as possible, but it had been too late for Vivien. No man, it seemed, wanted to marry an alcoholic. It wasn’t until he had opened Vivien’s safe deposit box after her death the year before that Renner had learned the truth about his father and the box of goodies stashed in a flooded cave. He’d also found the key in that safe deposit box. Wyman had mailed it to Vivien as a backup, and Vivien, deep in grief and anger, had stuck it into the safe deposit box along with her diary after learning of Wyman’s death. It had been a mistake to give LePage a duplicate of the key, Renner decided. This time he would keep the key until he had the box in his hands.
“According to Vaden, the Slaters left yesterday afternoon. But the daughter stayed behind with that guy she brought with her. Take it easy, Dan. There’s nothing we can do. We’ll just have to wait it out. They’re bound to leave sooner or later.”
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