“Put it down, will you? Me and Leo don’t need some fucking girl screwing up our game.”
“Now, now!” Isabella plucked one card out of the hand and laid it face up on the table. “A king. Your turn, Leo.”
“You stupid broad,” snapped Bucky.
“Okay, I won’t tell you what I was going to.”
“Grow up, Izzy,” said Leo. “Stop baiting him, will you?”
Bucky snatched the cards out of her hand, picked up the king, stuck the cards in his jeans pocket, unfolded the folding chair, turned it around so the back faced his brother and sister, and straddled it, arms crossed on the back.
“Okay, what?” he said.
“Welll,” she drawled out, “last night, guess who came to see us?”
Bucky sighed. “Oh, for God’s sake, Leo, tell her to go back to Eberhardt, will you? We had some peace those two years.”
“Come on, Izzy. We got work to do and can’t wait all day for you to spin out some story.”
“Work?” Izzy eyed the cards on the table. “I see.” She moved her chair back and got up. “Well, I won’t bother you then.”
“Stop playing your games,” said Leo. “Either tell us what’s on your mind or get outta here, will you?”
She stopped and looked at them. “Bruno got Chief VanDyke to take all my stuff away.”
They stared at her.
Outside, a kid went by on a bicycle and waved at the three inside. They didn’t notice.
“Everything?” asked Leo.
“Everything. My fifty thousand cash.” She sat down again. “My jewelry, worth another fifty thousand easy. My clothes.”
“Another fifty thousand right there,” said Leo, and laughed.
“It’s not funny,” said Isabella. “You better not lean back on that chair like that, or it’ll fold up on you.”
“Chief VanDyke?” asked Bucky, leaning over his crossed arms. “Took all that stuff we hauled for you? How come? He’s one of us.”
“VanDyke owes Eberhardt a mega-favor, that’s why,” said Leo. “Settled a gambling debt. Guess it’s payback time.” He started to lean back in his chair, but stopped. “So, what do you want your two big brothers to do about it, as though we didn’t know.”
“I want it back. All of it. Money, jewelry, clothes.”
Bucky sat up straight. “You mean, like, taken out?”
“Don’t look so eager, Bucky,” said Leo. “She doesn’t mean permanent, she means teach a lesson. Right, Sis?”
“Actually, permanent has a nice sound to it. The end of one crappy father-daughter pair.”
“Daughter being Samantha,” said Leo. “What did she do to you? And did you have anything to do with the latest involving her?”
“When you’re not too busy,” a nod at the cards, “I’ll tell you.”
In front of the garage the leaves of a large maple tree were beginning to turn. Sunlight shifted slightly, and the leaves, flickering in the slight breeze, cast a trembling bright gold light into the area where they were sitting.
“Back to particulars,” said Leo. “If we steal the stuff again, Eberhardt and his toady VanDyke will know exactly who stole it.”
“It’s not stealing,” Isabella slapped the table. “It’s getting my rightful property back.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Bucky. “Busting into some dude’s safe ain’t stealing, right?”
“He can’t touch us,” said Isabella, turning to him.
“Permanent is the best solution,” said Bucky. “As Izzy says, they can’t touch us. Eberhardt gone, VanDyke won’t owe nobody nothing.”
“No way.” Leo scooped up his cards. “The tribe won’t go for it.”
“Sure they will. VanDyke will buy us a case of champagne if we get Eberhardt off his back.”
“Will you get me my stuff or not?” asked Isabella, looking from one to the other.
Bucky waved an arm at the empty table. “You going to apologize to me for spoiling my game? I was winning, for Christ’s sake.”
“I’m sorry, Bucky, dear sweet brother.”
“You know, Sis,” Leo said deliberately, “we bailed you out. Broke into the guy’s safe, did a hauling job for you we’d have charged a client a couple thousand bucks for. Because you’re our baby sister and we hate Eberhardt’s guts. But you can’t expect us to do it twice.”
“It won’t hurt you to do it again.”
“No,” said Leo.
“You knew, didn’t you, I was going to give you a share of that fifty thousand.”
“Now you tell us.” Bucky laughed. “Easy for you when you don’t have fifty thousand to give us a share of.”
Leo said, “How large a share were you planning to give us, Sis?”
Isabella looked from one to the other.
“There’s your answer, Leo. Yeah, sure, ‘I was planning to give you half of the loot,’” Bucky said in a baby-girl falsetto.
“It was money I earned!” said Isabella.
“Whoring,” said Bucky and laughed.
“Cut it out,” Leo snapped. Then to Isabella, “Give us a figure you agree to pay us to get your stuff back, and we’ll consider it.”
“Get it in writing,” said Bucky. “And get it notarized.”
“You just said you’d charge a couple of thousand to do the same job, what about four thousand?”
“Four thousand!” said Bucky getting up from his chair. “The money, the jewelry, the furs, and stuff, comes to more than a hundred thousand, and you’re offering four? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Okay, make it ten thousand,” said Isabella.
“Here’s what,” said Leo. “Bucky’s right, that stuff is worth a lot more than a hundred thousand. Closer to a hundred fifty. What say you give us half of the fifty thousand, and we’ll call it a deal.”
“Half!” Isabella shrieked. “That’s twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“The girl can count,” said Bucky.
“That’s our offer.”
“No,” said Isabella.
“Okay, leave, so we can get back to our game,” said Bucky.
“Wait a minute.” Isabella combed her long hair with her fingers. “This negotiating stuff is new to me.”
“That’s for sure,” said Bucky.
“What about somewhere between ten and twenty-five thousand?”
Leo shook his head. “No.”
“Twenty-five thousand is a lot of money.”
“So, you’ll end up with a lot of money plus fifty thousand in jewelry plus who knows what in clothes,” said Leo.
“I’ll have to check with Tank.”
“What does he have to do with this?” said Bucky. “Since when did you marry the guy? He own you? Thought you was the independent woman.”
“Go home,” said Leo. “We can all forget about it.”
“What about half of the money you recover, in case he’s moved some of it someplace else?”
“No,” said Leo. “A deal is a deal. Twenty-five or forget it.”
“She better give us a paper with her signature,” said Bucky.
“She’ll pay,” said Leo.
CHAPTER 28
As they often did on Mondays, Isabella and Sarah Germain were having lunch together at the Aquinnah Shop, which was perched high up on the colorful Gay Head cliffs. The shop was actually a sit-down restaurant run by Wampanoags, with about fifteen tables and souvenirs for sale as one entered. The food was good, the chowder was rated best on the Island, and the view was definitely five-star.
From the windows and an outdoor deck patrons had a 180-degree vista of Vineyard Sound far below them with the Elizabeth Islands a tantalizing green stripe in the distance. Fishing boats, sailboats, powerboats, and ferries constantly moved on the ever-changing panorama of the Sound. The heavy surf that pounded the shore far below looked like a delicate lace ruffle. A huge flock of eiders were tiny points just past the breaker line.
Isabella and Sarah each ordered a salad and a cup of quahog chowder.
Isabella was describing in detail, between mouthfuls of greens, how Bruno Eberhardt had conned Chief VanDyke into stealing her possessions. She didn’t mention the money.
“My clothes. He stole my clothes. Why?” She dug her fork into her salad. “What’s he going to do with my clothes, you know? He’s not going to, like, wear my stuff, is he? He can hardly give it to some woman. I wouldn’t think of wearing some other female’s clothes, would you?”
Sarah had just dipped her spoon into the creamy chowder and was about to raise it to her mouth. “No way.” She slipped the chowder into her mouth.
“I mean, you should have seen my outfits. I mean, dresses for everyday, cocktail dresses, evening dresses, slacks and blouses and shorts, bathing suits.” She forked more salad into her mouth and chewed.
“That’s really rough,” said Sarah, who was wearing her T-shirt printed with TWO BRAVE HAULERS.
Isabella pointed her fork at her friend’s shirt. “My brothers’ outfit, you know?”
“Course I know,” said Sarah. “Everybody on the Island knows Leo and Bucky. They gave me this shirt.”
Isabella stuck her fork into her salad again and lifted a mass of greenery. She held it suspended between plate and mouth while she continued. “I had outfits for every season. You should have seen some of my clothes. I was setting out my fall outfits when I decided it was time to leave that crummy bastard.”
“Fall outfits?” asked Sarah, whose entire wardrobe consisted of jeans and T-shirts in warm weather, jeans and sweatshirts in cold weather.
“Oh, my God! I had a black velvet suit with a long, slit skirt to die for.”
“Where would you wear something like that?” asked Sarah.
“You know, a dinner party, theater.”
“Here, on the Vineyard?”
“Well, the Boston Symphony. The opera.”
“You like that stuff?” asked Sarah.
“I like the clothes,” said Isabella. “Or I liked them.” She sighed and popped the greenery, which had stopped dripping dressing, into her mouth and chewed.
They were both silent for a few minutes while they ate.
A gull alighted on the deck outside, snatched up some dropped morsel, and soared off.
Sarah finished her chowder, pushed the cup to one side, and started in on her salad.
“And you should have seen the most beautiful silk suit I had,” said Isabella. “Beige with a sort of raw silk nubble to it, you know?” She left the remains of her salad and moved on to her chowder. “And the most gorgeous corduroy pantsuit, gold, and so soft it was like velvet.” She stroked the front of her shirt, a stained T-shirt borrowed from Tank. “The jacket had, like, real leather buttons, you know, and leather patches on the sleeves the same color as the suit. It even had a belt on the back of the jacket.” She opened the cellophane packet of chowder crackers and shook them into her soup. “It was something you could wear to the races, you know? I mean, if you went to the Kentucky Derby or England or wherever. You could even wear it someplace like this without feeling overdressed. Real class.”
At that point Sarah looked up from her salad. “Sort of like the outfit that woman who just came in is wearing?”
Isabella looked up. “What woman?”
“Behind you. Don’t turn around. She’s heading toward that empty table,” Sarah nodded in the direction. “There’s some big guy with her.”
A tall well-built woman strode past their table, and when Isabella saw her, she dropped her spoon with a clatter. Chowder splashed onto Tank’s shirt. “That’s it! That’s my suit!” She pushed herself back from the table.
“Hey,” said Sarah. “What are you doing?”
“Finding out how come she’s got my suit.” Isabella stood.
“It can’t be yours. There are probably a dozen suits exactly like it on the Island.”
“No way. I know that suit. It’s mine.” Isabella crumpled up her paper napkin and threw it onto the table. She caught up with the woman. “Miss!”
The woman turned. She was about the same height as Isabella and about the same weight, had blond hair done up in an elaborate twist, and was smiling when she turned. However, the moment she saw Isabella’s expression, the smile faded.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Where did you get that suit?” demanded Isabella.
“I beg your pardon,” the woman said.
“It’s mine,” said Isabella.
The woman looked Isabella up and down, at the stained shirt and soiled jeans, and backed away with a look of distaste. The jeans were the same ones Isabella had worn for the past two days.
Isabella said more loudly, “I said, where did you get that suit?”
“Really, it’s none of your business where I get my clothes.”
Isabella reached out a hand to pluck the sleeve of the gold jacket with leather patches. At that, the woman’s male companion stepped out from behind her. He was taller than she, was a good fifty pounds heavier, and was wearing a tan V-necked sweater with a tiny animal of some sort embroidered on the left breast.
“You better go back to your table, lady, before I have you thrown out of this joint.” He seemed to swell as he stared at Isabella. He had longish black hair, a curl of which fell onto his forehead, thick black eyebrows, and black eyes that glittered with annoyance. The woman turned her back on the encounter and settled herself in a chair at the empty table.
Isabella said again, “It’s mine. I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s mine, I tell you!”
“You better leave,” said the man, clenching his fists.
By now, other patrons were turning in their chairs to watch, and the restaurant was silent. Sarah got up from her seat.
The waitress, a member of the tribe and a friend of both Sarah’s and Isabella’s, came up to Sarah and whispered, “Lunch is on the house, Sarah. Better get Isabella to leave before this guy causes any trouble.”
“I’m not leaving until I know where she got…” said Isabella, still facing the man.
“Thanks, Joanne,” said Sarah. “I have to get back to work, and Isabella’s giving me a ride to headquarters.” She turned to Isabella, who was glaring up into the stormy face of the man. “Come on, Izzy. I don’t want to be late.” She grabbed the back of Isabella’s borrowed shirt and tugged her away.
Isabella turned and grudgingly let Sarah tow her out of the restaurant.
“It’s my suit, damn it. I know every stitch in that suit. Where did she get it, anyway?”
“We’ll never know,” said Sarah. “Just forget about it.”
* * *
Joanne Homlish, the waitress/cook at the Aquinnah Shop, hurried over to the woman in the gold pantsuit as soon as Isabella and Sarah left.
“I want to apologize for that unpleasantness,” said Joanne. “It was uncalled for. I hope you won’t think that happens often.”
The woman looked up at Joanne. “Thank you. By the way, I’m Katherine Poss. I’m sure you’ve seen me on television. The poor girl was upset about something unrelated to me.”
“Lunch is on the house, Ms. Poss,” said Joanne, taking her pad out of her jeans pocket. “For both of you.”
“Thanks,” said the male companion, who’d seated himself across from Katherine. “It’s really not necessary, but we appreciate it.”
“I’m afraid it put a damper on your nice outing.” Joanne turned to the woman and said, “I wanted to tell you I think your suit is just beautiful, Ms. Poss, and it looks lovely on you.”
“Thank you.” Katherine Poss looked down at the gold material stretched over her thighs. “You know, I would have told her where I got it if only she’d asked nicely.”
“Did you get it here on the Island?” asked Joanne, with some hesitation, not wanting a repeat performance.
“Yes, I did. There’s a wonderful place in West Tisbury.”
“West Tisbury?” asked Joanne, puzzled. “I’m not sure I know the shop.”
“Oh, it’s not a shop,” said Katherine. �
�It’s a place with the most amazing assortment of clothing and other things.”
Her companion nodded. “Beats the old-time general store.”
“They had dresses and slacks and other clothes that were in my size, and I’m hard to fit. And of a really superior quality.”
“Well, it’s just beautiful,” said Joanne, taking her pencil out from behind her ear. “There’s something special about new clothes.”
“This suit is supposedly recycled, but it’s like new.” Katherine held up an arm so Joanne could inspect the leather patch on the sleeve. “See?” She patted the collar and ran her hand down the velvety gold corduroy. “Honestly, you wouldn’t believe the things they have there.”
“I didn’t get where you said the place is,” said Joanne, thinking she might be referring to Alley’s general store, but still puzzled.
“Oh. I guess I didn’t say. It’s almost like a department store, a place called the Dumptique. They have the most amazing selection of stuff, all free. You just help yourself and carry it away. It’s the recycling building at the West Tisbury dump.”
“We better order now,” said the man, glancing at his watch. He looked up at Joanne. “Thanks for the free lunch.”
* * *
Elizabeth returned home from work on Monday to find a frustrated Victoria seated at the cookroom table with notes in her loopy backhand writing spread out in front of her.
“I feel as though I’m putting out unnecessary fires when I need to work at something that will get us somewhere,” said Victoria.
“After Saturday night, I hesitate to volunteer to help,” said Elizabeth. “I guess that was one of your unnecessary fires?”
“No, that had to be taken care of. You did an admirable job of letting me know in time to join Mr. Eberhardt’s meeting with the sheriff. The sheriff is alerted now, and Mr. Eberhardt will have to come up with another plan. It can no longer involve releasing Zack from jail.”
Elizabeth sat down next to her grandmother. “What are your plans now?”
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