I didn’t want to leave the front door open while we foraged around, so I opened a couple of windows on opposite sides. Fresh sea air filled the room and quickly overcame the stale air.
“What are we looking for, Seth?”
“Hell, if I know. It’s just a matter of locating Boon’s little jungle hideout now, I suppose. Hopefully Marquez will have it. But there’s something. Just a gut feeling, I suppose. I needed to check it out before heading back to Ecuador.”
“Okay. Do you want to look together, or separate?”
The house wasn’t that big, but I had a feeling my response was important.
“We’ll split up. You take the bedroom. You’re a girl. If anything jumps out as not belonging, or unusual, holler. I’ll poke around in the living room here, and kitchen.”
She smiled, and I realized I’d made her happy. She was my partner now, a valuable person rather than just my wife, tagging along. She’d brought along her Panama hat we’d bought in Ecuador, and looked adorable dressed to match the houses.
Susan liked antiques and archaeology, or at least magazines about antiquing and archaeology. She also liked to read. Like her sister, her taste ran to mysteries. Hamish Macbeth and Bryant and May lived next to Charlie Chan and Travis McGee on her shelves, with Lew Archer and Hercule Poirot residing next to Matt Helm and Miss Silver. Joe Leaphorn and Jim Chee lived next door to Philip Marlowe and Nick and Nora Charles. An eclectic neighborhood to be sure.
I looked at every table and opened every door. Coffee tables and cabinets were searched, magazines and books were rifled through. Fifteen minutes later I knew Susan’s taste in literature, furniture and kitchen towels, but nothing that appeared of value.
“Seth.” Caroline had found something. I joined her in the bedroom.
There is always something intimate about being in a woman’s bedroom, and something even more intimate if she’s dead. The room was bathing in creams and pretty blues, swimming in lace and soft fabrics, drowning in femininity. Caroline was kneeling on a sea-blue carpet next to the bed. It was a big bed, a queen probably, and it had drawers underneath. Caroline had one of the drawers pulled out and it was full of cassettes. I knelt down beside her. Most of them were music cassettes. But lying off to the side was one little mini-cassette. It had a tiny white label reading: Holly. Boon had not come here to finish the job, which meant that Holly, if she was alive, had never revealed that Susan had a home here on Mykonos.
I couldn’t blame the Greek police for missing it. There were enough old music cassettes that on a cursory glance the drawer would have been quickly dismissed as an entertainment cubbyhole. Caroline handed me the tape labeled Holly and I said, “Nice work, Sherlock,” which made her beam.
“I haven’t run across a player yet, Seth.” I hadn’t brought the one Sonny had borrowed from Del Rio’s Asian cutie to Greece.
“She has to have one. If it isn’t in here, maybe it’s where she liked to listen and think. Where would you read or listen to something?”
“The patio!”
Caroline was right. Sliding glass doors connected the bedroom to a cozy little area with two wicker chairs and a small bistro size table. There appeared to be nothing other than the table and empty chairs but it was worth checking. The backs of the wicker chairs were high, and when we came around, the small player was lying on the seat of one of them next to the back. The cleaning person Laura had arranged for would not have had a reason to come out here, since both the chair and table were wicker.
The batteries were fried after ten years, and the moist sea air hadn’t done the player’s outer casing any favors, but it looked in good enough shape to work. I dug out the caked batteries with a pocket knife while Caroline went into the kitchen to get the pack I remembered seeing in there. Even past their expiration date, as they would certainly be, we should be able to get enough out of them to listen to one tape.
Caroline returned as I finished blowing the battery dust out of the holders. I placed a set into the player and pressed down the play button. It spun freely.
“Where do we listen?”
“What about out here, where she listened?”
Caroline nodded. “It’s so beautiful here, Seth.”
“I know. We’ll find a place for us, too. I promise.”
“I know, it’s just difficult to imagine being able to come here whenever you want.”
We sat down in the comfortable wicker and I slipped in the cassette. Both of us tried to prepare ourselves for what might be on the tape, but neither of us had expected what was on there. Susan’s voice was warm and affectionate.
“I’m making this tape for you, Holly, because I love you. When you first came to me, I felt a rapport that I’d never felt with anyone other than Laura, my sister. I’m only sending this to you now in Paris because I wanted you to know that I am here for you, for life. I’ve helped where I could as a professional, but now we are too close for that. I care so much about you, and what happens to you, that I have lost all perspective. I hope I can be your great friend, always, and that Boon never finds you. I want you to have a wonderful life, and an amazing career. And I would like nothing more than to share in your happiness as someone who loves you like a sister. Though you are leery of anyone getting too close because of Boon’s shadow over your shoulder, know that I am always just a phone call away, or a flight away. I am not afraid to love you and be your friend. I could never be so, any more than I could Laura. I will never abandon you, even though from a professional standpoint, I have done all I can. I would rather have you as a friend than a patient. Perhaps it is more important just to be your friend. I am mailing this upon my return to Mykonos, and cannot wait for that first phone call, or first sighting of you as you come across on the ferry for a visit. I could not bear to think that I would never experience at least one of those joys. What would be even more joyous is to travel to Boca Raton together, to spend time with Laura, my other sister. Don’t be afraid, because I am not. You must never be afraid to reach out in friendship, and in love, whether it is family or romance. You will be in my heart and in my thoughts always, and I cannot wait until I hear your voice or see your face again. Not to, you see, would make life less wonderful. I love you. Call me soon. Or come by. I will never stop being your friend, Holly.”
We had the player turned up but all that remained was the hiss of the tape turning.
Caroline whispered, “That’s so sad, Seth. She never made it back to mail that to Holly.”
“And Holly would have already been taken by Boon if she had. Holly could feel him, and she was right.”
“I guess it’s not a clue that helps us, though.”
I squeezed Caroline’s hand. “No, but if we find Holly, maybe it will help her.”
I reached over to shut off the tape and as I did, music began playing. Susan had finished speaking, but she’d left a message for Holly through song. It was Mary MacGregor’s Good Friend, a very sweet and sentimental song from an old Bill Murray film. Listening to it in light of what had happened was especially melancholy and bittersweet, because just as Holly had found a friend, Boon had taken her from her life forever.
I couldn’t help thinking that Susan’s entire life had been a composition in selflessness. She had stepped in and taken the beatings to spare Laura, found a profession where she could step in and help others overcome their past, and finally, made the ultimate sacrifice when she’d refused not to be Holly’s friend…
Forty
We decided to enjoy the beach. Caroline changed into swimwear she’d picked up with her knickknacks. It was a yellow bikini with little blue designs of some sort. She looked very sexy and I told her so, running my hand through her soft sandy blonde hair.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t rush back to Ecuador, Seth?”
I kissed her, and pulled her into my arms. “Laura told you we could spend the night here if we needed to, didn’t she? Well, we need to spend the night, so we can say we spent a night in Mykonos.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t unhappy, she simply didn’t want me to be holding up things to afford her a few more moments in Mykonos. I let her get a few steps before I said, “Where are you going?”
She turned and frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, there’s plenty of daylight left. We’ll have plenty of time for the beach, and later dinner at one of the nicer restaurants. Right now, you need to get your clothes off, and be quick about it.”
“Are you ordering me around, Mister?” Her wan blue eyes were bright and so was her smile.
“Don’t make me tell you twice.”
“Never,” she laughed.
An hour and a half later, some of it spent making love on a bed that hadn’t been used for over a decade, some of it spent on sweet pillow talk, and the remainder spent napping in each other’s arms, we were ready to head for the beach. Our mood was light and gay, the love we’d made on Susan’s bed somehow more firmly planting us in Mykonos. There existed a magic here, and we were succumbing to its spell.
The tiny walkways between similar looking white and blue houses made me realize how lucky we had been finding Susan’s place so easily earlier. Fortunately, a couple of young and luscious Greek girls wearing swimsuits and carrying towels exited one of the houses in front of us. Having the keen eye of a detective, I immediately pointed out to Caroline that we should follow them.
“Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to follow them, Mister?”
“What other reason could there possibly be when your sexy body and sweet lovin’ has me so mesmerized, not to mention exhausted?”
She leaned on my shoulder and whispered, “There’s more where that came from, Mister, and it’s all yours.”
I reached behind her and squeezed something very soft, very lovingly. “That’s why I love you, the well of wonderful never runs dry.”
In fifteen minutes we were on the area of beach filled with umbrellas that we’d seen earlier. To please Caroline I’d worn swim trunks beneath my jeans, even though I didn’t like them, and felt ridiculous. I knew this was a dream of hers, so we found an umbrella and I stripped and placed my jeans over her little blue purse. I ran after her into the water, even swimming with her for a while. She kept gazing at her surroundings as she had during breakfast, as though it might all disappear.
After a half hour or so I’d had all the being wet and being cold I could take and swam ashore. I loved the water and the sea, but had never understood the allure of being immersed in it. I stretched out beneath the umbrella while others so inclined enjoyed it. The violence I knew would come later in taking Boon and finding Holly seemed far away as I watched Caroline soaking it all into her soul, this enchanted island of Greece called Mykonos. The world’s cares fell away one by one here, like leaves in late autumn.
We spent hours on the beach. By the time we talked about heading back to Susan’s house, the sun had lowered near the horizon line of the sea, casting a golden hue on Mykonos. Dusk would follow, and then Mykonos would be bathed in moonlight.
Lights were beginning to be turned on in homes as we made the walk back through the maze. Caroline had drawn our path out following the Greek girls on one of her little notes. She’d been smart and put an X by where we’d started at Susan’s place. By following it backwards, we managed to get back in a reasonable amount of time.
Someone on the beach had told Caroline about a lovely restaurant but we’d need a taxi, which were notoriously slow arriving in Mykonos. As though nothing could ever go wrong here, however, one happened to be near us when Caroline called, and squeezed us in on his way to pick up some other tourists.
The restaurant was everything we’d hoped for. We were seated outdoors but huge flowering trees and bushes covered the area. Tables covered in white linen and adorned with candles, white chairs with comfortable wicker seats, friendly and unpretentious service, and great food accompanied the atmosphere of evening in Mykonos. It was busy, but everyone — some locals, others tourists — seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as we were, and did not mind waiting for their food to arrive. One did not hurry in Mykonos.
The aroma from our table alternated between the blossoms overhead and the various dishes being prepared. I tried everything that wasn’t too spicy and enjoyed all of it. Caroline tried everything and enjoyed it all.
Unbeknownst to me, she had been taking some shots of Mykonos with the very excellent camera on her new phone, and took some of the restaurant, so she’d have them as memories. I felt like I was selling out, but I let her take a few “selfies” of the two of us having dinner together in Mykonos. She laughed and said, “I just had to.”
We laughed a lot; over dinner as we ate; while we waited for a taxi to take us back; and later, as the breeze from the open bedroom window caressed our bodies and we made another wonderful memory of our brief time in Mykonos. Tomorrow, I would make plans for what I knew would be a bloody confrontation in the jungle of Ecuador, but tonight, I made love to Caroline and pretended that the Eugene Boons of the world did not exist. I made-believe the two of us lived in a world where young, teenage girls weren’t forced to run away from morally corrupt stepfathers, only to end up thrown from a plane with no parachute on a rainy morning in Ecuador. But I had dragged her body from the ocean, and knew it was a lie.
Forty-One
Caroline and I both felt a tug as we were ferried away from Mykonos. Only here a day and night, we’d made a connection in our soul. Some places, such as Paris, have a magic best experienced for brief periods so the romantic feeling doesn’t become tainted by a day to day reality. But Mykonos was different in that respect. Mykonos made you long for the restful, happy day to day reality of life on the Greek island, and it was the brief visits that tortured the soul. Paris was a romantic respite from life, Mykonos was life itself, and living. I understood why Susan had made a home for herself on Mykonos. I could not imagine any place further away emotionally from Susan’s childhood as a punching bag. Perhaps Mykonos was her reward for the sacrifice she’d made by placing herself between her father and the younger sister she had loved so dearly.
I had a lot of time to think about it because it was a long flight. The closer we got to Ecuador, the angrier I became, thinking about Susan’s murder, Cheryl, and of course, Holly, who might in many respects be Boon’s greatest victim, simply because she hadn’t been allowed to die. I knew I had to quell my anger, because it would not serve me well to go chasing into the jungle after Eugene Boon.
Boon was brutal and remorseless, cold and calculating, and above all, patient. He’d waited a year to screw Holly, grooming her, making her see him as her only option, the only one who loved her. Perhaps Jeanette was correct — she usually was — in that Boon secretly hated Holly for his own obsession with her. But Boon had shown that he did not let that interfere with business. A man who likes using a knife to kill, preferring to stare into the eyes of those he murders and see the terror and acceptance of their fate as their lifeblood drains away, has become more animal than human, and therefore, more cunning. Taking on Boon required a clear head and some help.
Caroline had called ahead but all Sonny would say is that someone would pick us up at the airport. I was more than a little surprised when those someones proved to be Mauricio Lovato and Sanchez. Sanchez had bruising on his cheekbone near his right eye, and a tiny scratch on his forehead near the hairline. Lovato’s nose had obviously been broken and reset. He was wearing shades, but the darkness of the skin just below the lenses told me he had two black eyes from the broken nose. There was a dark bruise on his neck as well.
Sanchez cued me in on what had transpired in my absence.
“Lovato was watching Marquez and Anna from the time they landed.”
“Interesting that both of you should be acquainted with Mr. Marquez,” declared Lovato accusingly.
Sanchez offered, “We thought it might be best to wait until you got here to explain things. We were busy sorting some other things out when Capitano Ecuado
r here, party crashed.” Sanchez rolled his eyes. I could imagine the other things had to do with Anne.
Mauricio ignored the gibe but said nothing. He seemed to be observing. Sanchez glanced at Caroline.
“Sonny got your call as he was boarding,” he said. “He left two of his men aboard so that no one could leave before we got back.”
“Well, let’s go then,” I said. “The sooner we get aboard, the sooner we can plan our next move.”
“There will be no our unless I get some satisfactory answers. Then I will decide whether you will be involved in the next move, or not.”
Sanchez gave me a look for getting him into — as he called it — some tangled shit, especially when he had other matters to deal with.
It was a somber ride out to Sweet Caroline in Lovato’s police boat. I noticed Sanchez had been disarmed. Meeting us at the airport, Lovato must have figured he didn’t need to search me. But Athea Christos was Greek, and she had sway with the airline. Speaking for Laura Garner hadn’t hurt, either.
I waited until Lovato pulled up next to Sweet Caroline and placed the Glock’s barrel in the small of his back. I knew he was determined enough to ram her into Caroline if I’d made the move earlier, but now it was too late. We were barely moving and he didn’t have the space left to do any damage.
“Well played.” There was none of that, You’ll never get away with this crap like you see on television. Lovato was seasoned and knew people got away with things every day. I felt bad, because he was a good cop doing his job.
I was going to use him as bait to draw out his men if I could, so they could be disarmed, but when I saw Sonny come out I knew I wouldn’t have to.
“They’re tied up, man.” Sonny grinned. “They didn’t search Katarina.”
Her little .22 had saved me from a risky move I hadn’t wanted to make.
The Long Gray Goodbye: A Seth Halliday Novel Page 24