Paradise Point

by Dana Volney

  “For some time now. Best thing I ever did around here. I try to have entertainment as often as possible.” The woman studied Liv and her chestnut eyes widened. “How long since you’ve been here?”

  “Oh, I’ve been out to the island a lot. Guess we don’t ever come up to the marina.” She surveyed the festive alcohol and beach signs peppering the walls. “My grandparents used to have a place out here. Years ago.”

  “I bought this place fifteen years ago. What are their names? I know most people around here.”

  “Wingfield. Ellen and John. But they’d passed by then.” Liv’s voice trailed off and she diverted her eyes. Her eyes started to sting and well with tears. I miss them.

  “I knew them.” The woman’s knowing eyes caught hers. “And you. Liv? Right? In fact you and my grandson, when you were babies, used to play in a blue plastic pool together. Naked as the day you were born.” She laughed heartily. “I think I have that pool around here somewhere still. I’m Vam Lewis, by the way.” The faded blond curls around her face swayed as she wiped the bar area in front of Liv.

  “Nice to meet you, Vam. Again.” Liv cleared her throat, willing away her sudden lack of control over her emotions. “So, what’s good here?”

  “The cheeseburger.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Ten minutes later Liv gawked at the two-pound hamburger in front of her. And she was going to eat every last bite. She deserved it. Every fry smothered in ketchup was a giant pat on the back for her courage and insight in taking on Neil’s houseboat project.

  “What brings you out here today?” Vam cut into Liv’s mental celebration of awesomeness.

  “Fixin’ up a houseboat. Slot fourteen.”

  “Shiverly’s old thing?”

  “That’s the one.” Liv waved the hand not palming a cheeseburger in the direction of the Coronado Boat Club—CBC to the locals.

  “I live next door to that wreck. Shameful. I’ll be glad when it isn’t such an eyesore.”

  Liv couldn’t help but laugh. “Heh, me too.”

  “You gonna live there?”

  “No. I’m restoring, then selling. I’m a real-estate agent.”

  “Too bad. You’d probably be a decent neighbor. Riffraff are always hanging around that boat. Sometimes you get partiers out here.” She waved her hand inland. “That’s why I had to move to a houseboat. Me and the waves.”

  “I wish I were moving out here. I’m remembering how much I really miss this place.”

  “Are you Shiverly’s wife?” Vam asked.

  Liv choked on her fries and tried to get an emphatic no out of her lips. She reached for a glass of water as she waggled her head no. She cleared her mouth and throat of any remaining food, composing herself like the lady she knew she could be, and said politely, “No. Not even a little bit. What do you take me for? Desperate?” Liv glanced down. She did kind of look like a wreck.

  Vam’s eyes widened and she proceeded to laugh so hard she nearly doubled over on the stool she sat on across from Liv.

  “Geez, give me some credit here.” Liv motioned up and down her body. “I got game. I’m just a little off today.” She added a wink, if only to reassure herself.

  Vam wiped tears from the crease of her eyes. “Are you dating anyone?”

  “Not in particular. I’m, ya know, finding myself right now.”

  “I see.” The owner sized her up. “And how’s that going?”

  “About as good as my chances of fixing up and selling that stupid death cabin on floaties.” Liv reached for another fry and found an empty plate instead. She frowned and grabbed her water again.

  “There’s a guy you should talk to. He’ll help ya.”

  “Oh no, no. Thanks, but I don’t need a stranger setting me up.”

  “His name’s Ben. He runs Red’s Hardwood Store on the other side of the bridge in San Diego.” Vam pulled out her thick, gray Motorola flip phone, a pen, and a napkin. “His store is kinda on the way as you’re driving to come out here. He helps folks with their boats too, as a side thing. He’s trustworthy.”

  Liv took the napkin with his name and number. She squelched the urge to poke fun at the only cell phone Vam had probably ever owned. Liv’s phone buzzed and she sent Ken’s call to voice mail, again. Whatever he wanted she wasn’t offering; she’d been deleting his messages without listening. A couple of text messages from her besties, Sadie and Hannah, caught her eye and she made a mental note to call them on her drive home that night. She had a lot to fill them in on.

  “Thanks.” Liv studied the older woman’s eyes and swore she saw a twinkle.

  If this is some lame setup, so help me, I’ll never come here to eat another cheeseburger again. Who was she kidding? That would only be punishing herself. This was definitely her new favorite meal, her previous fish taco fetish now coming in a far second.

  Vam cleared Liv’s plate and refilled her water. Liv took a sip and swiveled herself away from the bar. The sooner she finished this project, the sooner she could get to the next step in her life. Whatever that might be.

  • • •

  Liv didn’t waste any time setting up the meeting with Vam’s contact. She peered down at Ben from her perch on the dock that evening. She’d earned a break after lugging all of the supplies onto the boat. Besides, it was never wrong to catch a couple of rays.

  Ben’s upper chest bobbed in the water and his red hair was slicked back. “The fiberglass hasn’t delaminated.”

  “Woo-hoo.” She pumped her fist in the air. “No delamination for this girl … that’s good, right?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, but—”

  “I knew it.” She exhaled hard.

  “Your fiberglass needs a good waxing.”

  “Does it now?” She arched an eyebrow. “What’ll it run me?”

  “I’ll add it to the list. You know, it’s a growing list.”

  “I know.” She stretched her long legs out on the light gray dock. “So, what’s our plan here?” She wanted to wrap up the day, unwind in a hot bath, and climb into the soft bed at home that called her name.

  “I can help you with the repairs. But it’s going to be well into the thousands.”

  I’m in the wrong business. She made a mental note to check into the boat renovation industry for her next career.

  “No problem. Not my credit card.” The realization that Neil had given her his credit card helped her stress level. Money could fix most problems.

  • • •

  Ben and Neil were in on this together somehow, Liv was sure of it. For three and a half weeks now, every time she triumphantly crossed off two items, Ben added one. It would’ve been cheaper at this point to just build a new houseboat to sell. No way could Neil intend to make a profit. The June sun rose in the unclouded sky, with no wind to protest the heat. She lifted her face to soak up the light. She may not have been as far along as she wanted, but every day had meant progress.

  She walked to the very end of the dock that separated the Out & A Boat and Vam’s houseboat. The next big project on her list: the party deck. The two rooms were clean and presentable. All they needed now were proper linens and decorations. Ben had the sink torn apart so she didn’t want to mess with anything in the galley. Yep, today was devoted to outside work, right after she saw what the marina offered for breakfast.

  A glint of metal caught her eye. She squinted and braced her hand to her forehead, blocking the sunlight to better focus. A lock? What in the world would a compartment be doing there? The lock was mounted in the middle of the outside edge of the flooring on the master bedroom patio, just above the water. That area should be solid. She crouched on the dock and leaned as much as she could. At first the siding appeared seamless. Her face rested inches from the boat and she saw the elusive lines cutting into the fiberglass.

  She pulled two bobby pins from her hair and stretched them into a line, hooking the ends on each of them, and got to work.

  Thank you, Dad. At the formative age of twel
ve her dad, the classified-career military man, had decided she could learn how to pick a lock. Now, a decade and a half later, she hadn’t lost her cat burglar touch.

  She put pressure on the lock counterclockwise with one bobby pin, then inserted the other with the hook up. She tenderly moved the upper bobby pin around until she felt the mechanism. Such a serious lock. What could be in here? She worked one pin at a time, getting each to give, and turned the bottom bobby pin for the final unlock. She pulled the rectangle door open with her fake key. A long, narrow slip in the boat revealed itself and a black bag lay solo at the bottom. She left the hidden door open as she sat back on the dock and unzipped the secret bag.

  Liv pulled out three small keys, labeled A, B, and C, that she guessed went to another lock or safety deposit box. She set them down and dug in the dark bag for more. She felt formed metal, a rubber stock and long barrel and instantly knew: a rifle. She didn’t pull it all the way out of the bag. She didn’t want anyone to see.

  Paranoia filled her and she glanced all around her, watching for prying eyes or surveillance. No one stood blatantly in sight. A couple of boats roared across the lake, but their occupants didn’t seem to care what she was doing.

  She peered into the bag. The rifle in the bag was military grade, used by snipers. She pushed a small button and the magazine popped out. Unloaded. She fished in the bag again and her fingers touched a box. Bullets. She peeked in to read the box. For the second time that hour she thanked her dad. He’d taught her to shoot, how to respect weaponry, and a decent amount of history about them. Whatever she’d just stumbled upon, the odds of it being ominous were high.

  I’ve gotta think. Liv surveyed her watery surroundings. What am I going to do?

  Liv closed the hiding space on the side of the boat. She stuck the bag in a black garbage sack and hid it in a dry cubby under the dock between this boat and Vam’s. She had no idea what to do, but knew someone would eventually search for the bag and she didn’t suppose they should be successful.

  Nausea grew in her chest and her throat tightened. There was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, something she should know or realize. She needed to clear her head and instead her stomach grumbled.

  She walked the short distance to the marina. The sound and smells of breakfast done right emanated from the patio. Freshly brewed coffee, the unmistakable sizzle of bacon, and a hint of maple surrounded her as she sat facing the calm water.

  “Good morning, Vam.” Liv smiled, wiping her hands across her black relaxed shorts and green T-shirt. Her work attire had become casual as the days dragged on. Along with grocery shopping, laundry was also on the list of chores fallen by the wayside. Good thing her closet was extensive or her outfit situation would really be dire.

  “Hi, buttercup.” A grin accompanied Vam’s familiar rasp.

  “You’re in a good mood this morning.”

  “Won two hundred bucks last night.” Vam waggled her dark brows.

  “Woo, doggie.” Liv’s high-pitched drawl elicited a wider smile from the other woman.

  Liv took a deep breath and relaxed for the first time since finding the hidden bag. A nagging feeling told her re-hiding it made her an accomplice to something, even if she didn’t know the details. Now, she’d have to deal with it, like it or not. Or pretend she never saw it. First thing tomorrow I’ll call Dad … or the police. Either way, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

  “You should’ve come to poker. But probably good you didn’t. I was on fire.”

  “Next time. I promise.” Liv crossed her heart with her index fingers.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “When is it? I’ll be there.”

  “Seven next Thursday. It’s over at Eddie’s. Slot seven.”

  Liv nodded and her messy ponytail bounced. I’m gonna have to relearn how to fix my hair after this is all said and done.

  “What’ll ya be having?”

  Liv glanced down at a sheet of paper in front of her and picked the biggest combination with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns—a breakfast for champions, or, at the very least, a breakfast to tide her over till lunch. Buying snacks hadn’t been on any to-do list either.

  She enjoyed her coffee on the deck, refusing to let herself worry about the keys and rifle. You’d think I’d be sick of the outdoors. Instead I can’t get enough. Liv historically suffered from allergies, but they hadn’t acted up once. The quiet beauty of nature added another plus to this project. There certainly seemed to be more up sides than she originally thought there’d be.

  And surprisingly, getting her hands dirty and really sweating felt good. Liv had taken sales jobs her whole life and never did anything rougher than clean house. I just need to keep going. She took another sip of her coffee. Yes, she’d be all right. Now … what to do for my next profession?

  “Here ya go, buttercup.” Vam set two plates full of food on the table.

  “Thanks. Hey, what did you do before you bought this place?” Liv waved her fork in a circle, then dug in. She needed to talk about anything other than the houseboat. Vam’s life would do.

  The owner took a seat next to her. “Why in the world would you want to know?”

  “Just humor me.”

  “I stayed at home and Wyatt worked. I also made cakes.”

  “Cakes?”

  “Yep. Nothing big, just outta my home. Made ’em for all occasions. Before it was the hip thing to do.”

  “Do you still make them?”

  “Nah. Haven’t for years … since this place.”

  “You don’t make anything for the marina?”

  “No. Easier to order in. I got other things to do around here.”

  Liv nodded and ate. She never would’ve thought Vam to be a baker.

  “If you decide to bake again, I’m in. I love homemade whatever.”

  Vam slid a sideways glance. “We’ll see.”

  “Maybe I should make cakes. Were you profitable?”

  “You quitting?”

  Liv paused with her fork mid-air. “More like exploring my options.”

  “You don’t like the real-estate game or the boat business?”

  “Real estate. I’m just not sure it’s for me anymore. I don’t know what I’m good at.” Liv sighed. “I do love it out here.”

  “It’s the life.”

  Liv pushed her empty plates away.

  “Damn, buttercup. You can sure put it away.” Vam’s forehead wrinkled.

  “I don’t mess around when it comes to food.” Liv winked.

  “What are you good at?”

  “Technically, nothing.” She reclaimed her refreshed cup of coffee and leaned back in the chair. “I like dealing with people. Usually I’m good at it, even if I can’t seem to sell a house lately to save my life. Other than that, I dunno.”

  “Any jobs online?”

  “I haven’t looked. Oh!” Liv’s eyes widened. “I need to place the for-sale ad. What day is it?”

  “Ad?”

  “For the boat. I need to have it sold in three weeks.”

  “Three weeks, huh? Tall order.”

  “That’s my life, Vam. It’s a non-negotiable must.” Liv stood and placed her napkin on her plate. “Sorry. I gotta go.” She dropped a twenty on top of the napkin.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vam’s dead?

  The words rang over and over in Liv’s head. I spoke to her less than twelve hours ago. Her mind was trying to process the information, but her heart wasn’t letting her.

  “How? When?” were the only words that sputtered out of her mouth.

  “Last night. In her sleep,” Ben said.

  “Why?” Liv fought back the sobs that started deep in her chest. The screwdriver hung heavy in her hand and her body went numb.

  “Heart attack, they think.”

  The tool slid from her hand and thudded on the dock near Ben’s tool bag. She curled her arms around her numb body. Her gaze automatically fell on Vam’s boat, her breath feeling heavy. W
hy did it look cheerful and the same? Vam was never coming back. Their nightly talks and beers had become Liv’s only reprieve from the long hours of houseboat renovation.

  “The group’s trying to make arrangements. I’ve got a call in to Adam, but it’s only a message.”

  “Adam?”

  “Her grandson. The only family member she had.”

  Liv tried to focus on the mid-morning water. She blinked and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Me neither. No one can.”

  Ben patted Liv on the shoulder and walked the long dock back to the CBC clubhouse. She should probably go up and pay her respects, help them out, but she didn’t have it in her.

  Liv hadn’t known Vam long, but the woman had made a lasting impression. One that Liv thought was just getting started. Now she didn’t know what to do.

  Suddenly her whole body felt weak and she plopped down on the deck. Life was so unfair.

  • • •

  The familiar ringtone took Adam out of a dreamless sleep. He held up his sleepy head from his pillow and opened one eye, trying to spy his phone. He slapped his hand clumsily on the nightstand and found nothing. This had better be important. Coming off only ten hours’ sleep in a week’s span like he was wasn’t going to afford the caller forgiveness.

  He slowly dragged himself from the bed and rubbed his face with his hands. His body felt like jelly and sore. It didn’t want to be awake any more than his brain did. He followed the incessant ringing to his jeans on the floor in his bathroom.

  “Hello.” His gruff voice scratched his ears.

  “Mr. Lark?”

  “Speaking.” Adam couldn’t place the voice, but the fine hairs on the back of his neck raised.

  “I’m Mr. Schwab from Schwab and Associates. I don’t know if you remember me or not.”

  His stomach clenched and he held his breath.

  “Mr. Lark.” The man sucked in air so strongly, Adam thought he might feel the release. “I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but … Vam passed away yesterday.”

  “What?” He cringed in disbelief and ran free his hand through his hair. Did I hear that right? His ears started to ring.