Eddie returned to the deck and his job as a diver. I felt queasier than ever as a roll of the boat slid my coffee cup away.
“I’d like to go outside, please,” I said.
Marcus got me out of the cabin quickly, and fresh air revived me. We picked our way across the cluttered deck to where we could get into our diving gear again. It was a relief to be away from the Dolphin, pushing through the water swiftly with the aid of our flippers. By the time I was on board the Snapdragon again, I felt fine. It was the cabin, and Iris and Eddie, even the smell of the Dolphin, that had been unsettling.
Now when Marcus brought out a lunch hamper we unwrapped chicken sandwiches, cold juice, and slices of apple pie, and I could eat with a good appetite.
“How could Alida ever have married a man like Eddie?” I asked Marcus.
“Who ever knows why anybody marries anybody? Maybe she didn’t have much other choice, and maybe he was a lot more attractive twenty years or more ago. It didn’t last long, anyway. Alida was better off without him.”
“Then why would she ask him to come to see her now?”
“We don’t really know that he was telling the truth. Maybe it’s better not to ask too many questions and stir things up.”
“You’re being mysterious again.”
He grinned at me. “Maybe that’s my attraction—the man with a terrible secret. Why quarrel with it?”
But I felt so much less comfortable with him now than I had when we were in the water. I didn’t like my own contradictory responses—sometimes easy and half affectionate, sometimes uncertain and resentful. Besides, there was always Iris. I had never felt like this toward a man before, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to wake up suddenly and discover that I was in love. But how did you stop the feeling, once it started and you were on the way?
“I’m glad you came out with me, Laurel,” he said. “It’s been a good day. Go easy with your father tonight. You fly into things sometimes, and right now he’s pretty vulnerable.”
“I don’t want to hurt him—not any more. But neither do I want to be used for some end of his own against Iris and Fern.”
Marcus started the motor, and we sped back toward Key West.
“What will Derek do with that stuff he’s found?” I asked when we were on our way. “It didn’t look especially valuable—except for the medal I picked up.”
“History can’t be valued. A musket ball could be important. No matter what he finds, it shouldn’t be sold. But then—that’s always the argument between historians and treasure hunters.”
“It’s the treasure hunters who find things, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes. That’s a quarrel that hasn’t been settled yet, and maybe it never will be. Arguments can get pretty fierce on both sides.”
I didn’t try to talk again until we’d docked at the Landsend Marina at the foot of Margaret Street.
“It’s Alida who worries me most,” I told him when we were on our way in the car. “I keep feeling that she’s involved in something—well, perilous, that may shake everyone up.”
“Then leave it alone, Laurel,” Marcus said quietly. “You’d better stay out of the way if you see a tidal wave coming! I don’t know exactly what Alida has on her mind, but you may be right. Unless she wants to talk, let it go.”
“I don’t think she’d use Eddie for something little. Not the way she probably feels about him.”
“Right. Anyway, I don’t think Eddie will bother you again.”
“What about this boat party of Derek’s?”
“It’s coming up soon, and I don’t like the idea. I wish your father would refuse to go. But Derek usually gets his way.”
I had one more question to ask before we reached Cliff’s. “Why do you suppose Iris went out to the Dolphin on her own today?”
“I’ve been wondering about that ever since we found her in the cabin. Mostly she only goes out there with Derek, and then reluctantly. She’s not the little fish Fern is, in spite of growing up in Key West. Funny thing—Poppy wasn’t crazy about the water either. She used to say she’d probably drowned in a former lifetime.”
“And this time she was murdered by orchids,” I said softly.
Marcus pulled up to the curb in front of the house. “Neither Iris nor Fern would ever have hurt Poppy. They both adored their mother. In spite of Poppy’s opposition to Iris marrying Derek, there was never anything Poppy could do to stop that, and they both knew it. So Iris didn’t need to fight back seriously.”
“But she and Poppy did quarrel.”
“And probably about Derek, but that’s not for you to worry about now.”
“All right,” I said. “Thank you for the day, Marcus—it was glorious.”
I started to get out of the car, but he pulled me back and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. I felt more pleased than I liked. The gesture had been casual, and I didn’t look back as I went up the walk to the house.
When I reached the steps I found Fern on the porch, watching me quizzically. I said, “Hi,” and moved past her into the house, in no mood for any of her whimsies just then.
She bounced up from her chair and came after me. “Iris went out to the Dolphin this afternoon, didn’t she? All on her own, though she hates boats. And without Derek! How come?”
“You’d better ask her,” I said, starting up the stairs.
“We aren’t speaking right now. Look, Laurel, I like you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Marcus and Iris belong together. They always have. So you’d better not get too interested in him. He’ll never look at anyone else.”
Leaving Derek for Fern? I wondered. When I didn’t answer, her fair skin pinkened and tears came into her eyes.
“I know what you think—that I’m crazy about Derek. And it’s true!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We seem to be a pretty mixed-up family, don’t we?”
Fern touched my arm as we reached the door of my room, and came in with me. “It’s not your fault things are so mixed up. Have fun tonight with Cliff.”
The grapevine certainly worked around here, I thought as I went into my room, glancing automatically toward the row of orchid photographs. And then I looked again—shocked.
Glass had been broken from the frame of the center picture, so that only jagged teeth remained around the edges, and bits of glass lay on the floor. The photo of the masked woman had been slashed into strips that hung askew in the frame.
Fern backed into the hall, her eyes wide and frightened, and I turned to catch her by the arm. “Did you do this?” I demanded.
She shook her head wildly. “It must have been Poppy! I’ve felt it all along. She doesn’t want you in her room, Laurel. Oh, I can’t bear this any more!”
“Stop it!” I told her. “It wasn’t Poppy. A spirit couldn’t use a knife so vigorously! Besides, she must have liked that picture.”
Fern stared at me for a moment and then pulled her arm free and rushed off. I heard her bedroom door slam, and the sound left me utterly drained. An afternoon of wind and sun, the experience of diving to the wreck, plus all these wild emotions was too much. All I wanted was to get under a shower and then throw myself on the bed to rest until it was time to dress for dinner with my father. But there would be no peace for me while the two remaining orchids stared at me reproachfully from the wall—as though they blamed me for the destruction of their sister photograph.
I took the smashed picture from its place, shook broken glass into a wastebasket, and cleaned up the floor. Then I piled the framed photographs, with the slashed one on top, and carried them into the hall.
No one appeared to be around as I climbed the stairs to my father’s study. There I placed the frames on Alida’s desk, found paper and a felt pen, and wrote Please put these away.
As I was about to leave, I noticed that the trapdoor to the captain’s walk was open. Late afternoon sun glowed at the top of the stairs, and there was someone up there. When I stepped close, I saw that Alida sat huddled
on the top step, her hands clasped about her knees. For a moment she stared at me without moving.
I said, “I want to show you something, Alida.”
Reluctantly she came down the steps, clinging to the rail, and I gestured toward the photographs I’d piled on her desk.
“Will you put these away somewhere, please? So that whoever is playing these tricks will stop. You can see what’s been done to the top photograph.”
Almost as if she feared to touch it, she picked up one of the slashed strips and stared at it. But now it was Alida herself who held my attention. She looked awful—her skin mottled, and with deep shadows under her eyes.
“Something’s terribly wrong, isn’t it?” I said. “Isn’t there someone you can talk to? Someone you can trust?”
She dropped the colored strip as though it burned her and shook her head. “There’s no one I’d dare to trust. Fern and Iris are like my own daughters, but I can’t talk to either of them.”
I drew her toward her desk. “Sit down for a minute. This afternoon Marcus took me in Derek’s boat out to the Dolphin. Eddie Burch turned up in the water near me when I was diving, and he tried to frighten me again.”
She moved in her swivel chair, turning from me.
“Look,” I said, “if you’re concerned about the change my father may make in his will, I mean to ask him not to do what he plans. Iris doesn’t believe me, but I really don’t want anything from him.”
“What you want is—everything,” she said. “What you want is his love.”
I left her there staring at the orchid photographs and went away. I knew that she was right.
8
What you want is his love.
Alida’s words haunted me as I showered and dressed for dinner. Was this the deep reason, the true reason that had brought me here? Had this always been the hidden longing I’d fought against? Longing for a father who would love and care for me? But even if this were true, why should anyone else mind? The giving of love took nothing from others. If Cliff ever came to love me, it wouldn’t affect his love for Fern and Iris. Would it?
I put on my lemon shantung and slipped a comb backed with beaten gold into my hair. Mother had given me the small gold earrings I put on as a last touch—so that I would have a bit of her with me as a mascot through what might be a difficult evening.
Cliff was waiting when I went downstairs. His eyes seemed to approve the way I looked, but I didn’t know him well enough to gauge his mood. I seemed to want approval these days, not only my father’s but Marcus’s as well.
Everything in Key West was nearby, so it took only a few minutes to drive to Casa Marina on the Atlantic shore. On the way Cliff told me about the hotel’s history, avoiding personal topics.
“You know, when Henry Flagler brought his railroad to Key West, he promised to build a fine resort hotel on the island. But he died before he could keep that promise, so construction on Casa Marina didn’t begin until 1918.”
The building was a huge, far-flung Spanish creation built from poured concrete, with a straight central portion, two wings on either side slanting toward the front, and arched windows on the lower level decorating most of the building. Restoration by a well-known hotel chain had brought it back to its original splendor of Spanish Renaissance.
The lounge, with its vaulted black cypress ceilings and great fireplace, was as spacious as a ballroom, its dark floor gleaming with a high gloss and left bare where people would walk. A sitting area offered oriental rugs, handsome wicker furniture, and small glass-topped tables. Again there were arched windows opening on a rear piazza and swimming pool. Green plants abounded everywhere, and wrought-iron lamps were set in the wall at intervals, shedding agreeable light.
This was a more elegant Key West than one saw around Mallory Square, and dress was somewhat more decorous. At least in the evening.
My father looked handsome in a light suit and brown shirt, and at every turn he was recognized and greeted. I was proud to be introduced as his oldest daughter. If some people looked puzzled, he didn’t explain, and once he gave me a sly wink.
Since we were early for dinner, he found a place where we could sit on the long brick piazza overlooking the pool. The hotel rooms would have wonderful views of Key West, the Atlantic Ocean, and the Gulf of Mexico. Below where we sat, the pool waters shone blue in soft, reflected lighting.
More than anything, I wanted to relax and not think about Marcus, not think about the way I wanted him here tonight. I wanted to forget those beastly orchids and get better acquainted with my father. But first there were matters I needed to talk to him about. Alida was wrong when she said that all I wanted was his love. I needed his concern, his advice. I wanted him to be my friend as well as my father. He gave me an opening by asking how I’d enjoyed the trip out to the Dolphin.
I told him about my underwater encounter with Eddie Burch and about the way he’d spoken to me at the house as well.
“Iris told him to stay away,” I finished. “She said you didn’t want him to come around bothering Alida.”
“That’s right. And I don’t like this behavior toward you.”
“Has he worked for Derek long?”
Cliff looked over green shrubbery toward the pool. “Derek and Eddie started out as enemies,” he said after a moment. “Years ago, before he married Alida, Eddie got mixed up in some sort of illegal escapade. He was a pretty wild buccaneer type when he was young. Maybe that was the unlikely quality that appealed to Alida. I’ve never been clear about the story, and I don’t know what part Derek may have played. Key West builds its own legends, you know, and you can’t believe everything that’s told. Anyway, there was a nasty fight, and Derek sliced Eddie’s shoulder open with an old army sword. Then he turned right around and saved Eddie’s life by getting him to a doctor and paying all the hospital bills. In some strange way, Eddie’s been attached to him on and off ever since. When Derek located evidence of a wrecked galleon, he hired Eddie to work for him. He’s a good diver. But he was certainly no husband for Alida.”
“He gives me the creeps,” I said. “Another thing—Iris went out to the Dolphin on her own, and everyone seems to think that was strange. Perhaps that’s something she’s never done on her own before?”
“It could be she just wants to involve herself more in Derek’s interests. I’ve even suggested that. She’s been frowning on treasure diving all along. Perhaps an older man will be good for Iris. She’s more mature than Fern will ever be, but she still needs someone to take hold.”
That was what women had been taught for centuries, but I wondered if it was really what Iris needed.
“What about Fern?” I asked. “I mean about this feeling she has for Derek?”
His voice softened as he spoke of his youngest daughter. “Fern is a lot like her mother. Emotional, impulsive. She has crushes because she’s still so young—younger than her years. I don’t want to see her hurt, but I think she’ll get over this obsession and fix her attention on someone else as soon as her sister is married.”
Once more I asked the question to which I’d never had a full answer. Perhaps it was a dangerous question, after what Marcus had told me, but I had to ask it.
“Why was your wife so against this marriage to Derek?”
He answered easily enough. “Poppy was always governed by her emotions. She didn’t like Derek.”
That was a comfortable explanation for him, and I didn’t push it any further.
Cliff went on speaking of Fern. “Unfortunately, Fern’s crush on Derek came before Iris was interested in him. I think he was amused by Fern and foolishly played along, teasing her for a while. He was never serious, and I don’t think he ever understood for a minute how she felt. When Iris turned her attention on Derek, he woke up to the fact that Iris was a woman, and not the little girl he remembered.”
He sighed deeply, and I waited for him to go on.
“Fern, of course, didn’t stand a chance with him in the first place. She h
as always needed more than I could give her. Help her, if you can, Laurel. She likes you.”
His appeal touched me. “I hope she likes me, but I’m not always sure. Sometimes she bewilders me.”
“That’s her delight, her special charm,” Cliff said. “Her mother was dazzling, unpredictable, and sometimes Fern has those qualities too.”
For a moment he lost himself in some memory, and I had to bring him back to what was, for me, the most important question of all.
“Cliff, I’ve been told about the changes you might make in your will.”
He was instantly alert, on guard. I sensed a wall being raised between us, but I had to persist.
“Please don’t do this, Cliff. I don’t want to get into the middle of a fight with my sisters. And I didn’t come here for any sort of gain.”
“Why did you come?”
I tried to answer him honestly. “At first I thought it was because I was angry with you, because I wanted to pay you off for leaving us when I was a child. I don’t feel that way any more.”
He lowered his guard just a little. “I wish I had more to give you, Laurel. Of myself, I mean. There’s no feeling left in me. Everything died when Poppy left me.”
He made a slight, sad gesture of dismissal and glanced at his watch. Nothing had been resolved, and now something of his own depression had touched me.
“Come along,” he said, rousing himself. “It’s time to go in for dinner. I’ve made a reservation for us at Henry’s.”
I knew he would listen to nothing more I might say about his will, and I had to give in to him for now. There would be another time, and I’d return to this.
We walked through the hotel to the restaurant that had been named for Henry Flagler and were led to a table on the lower level. The room was large, with soft lighting, dark woodwork, and a feeling of elegance about it. Arched Spanish windows looked out at the evening, and there was air conditioning, instead of the usual ceiling fans.
When we’d ordered, with a wine of my father’s choice, he surprised me by reopening the subject of the will.
“Who told you about my plans, Laurel?”
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