“Connor, you go around and check every window and door. Since you’ve already checked the room, she has to be somewhere close. Amelia isn’t stupid; she won’t want to be caught with Kelly, especially if she’s hurt her. Cat and I will drive around and see if we can find a sign of either of them. Call me if you find her first. If we don’t find her though, and soon, you’re going to have to call the police. If Amelia’s pissed, and you can bet she is, there’s no telling what she’s likely to do.”
Connor left to check out what was once one of the old banquet halls. It had lots of doors and windows and screened porches where someone could hide if they were willing to break in.
Matt grabbed my hand and we walked back to his truck.
“Do you think she’s hurt her?”
“Yes.” And that’s all he said.
At the end of the drive Matt looked left and right, then decided it was more logical that Amelia would have opted for the more secluded areas and turned left onto Clubhouse Drive. We drove slowly, looking left and then right for any sign of them, a car pulled over, a woman trudging through the wet grasses or heaven forbid, a body on the side of the road.
At the rear security gate there was a guardhouse, a guardhouse that to my knowledge had never been used except to display holiday decorations. Matt made a wide turn to reverse direction and head back. As he made the swing, his headlights slashed across the window of the guardhouse and we both noticed that the glass in the door had been broken and that the blinds behind the glass were caddywhompus. There was something ominous about the scene, I didn’t doubt that there would be something gruesome behind that jagged glass and slack, mangled blind.
Without saying a word, he pulled the truck over to the side of the road and motioned for me to stay there as he exited and left the motor running and door open. I watched, fearful of what he would encounter, and then heard him say “Jesus!” as he looked inside. He tried the door but it was locked then his hand went into the opening where the glass had been and he unlocked it before opening it. He flicked a light switch near the doorframe and yellow light illuminated everything in and around the guardhouse. I slid over to the driver’s seat and got out of the truck. He was already kneeling beside a naked Kelly and crooning to her that she was going to be all right.
He stood and pulled me away from the door. “Do not touch her, she is covered with poison ivy from head to toe and there’s broken glass everywhere. Use the cell phone in the truck to call 911 while I call Connor. See if you can find a blanket in the back of the truck. Did I see you grab a bottle of water?”
I nodded and ran back to the truck to get everything. The rescue squad was just up the road a few miles so I knew they would get here quickly, probably even before Connor if he was lucky because Kelly looked awful. It was hard to believe this woman was the same one I had met just this afternoon at the beach.
I could hear Matt talking to Connor, “We’re at the North gate on Old Georgetown Road, get here quickly. It’s not good; we’ve called an ambulance. You’re going to have to go with her. She has cuts from moving on the glass and poisonous leaves have been rubbed all over her body. And I do mean everywhere. I can’t believe Amelia was this evil. It’s you she should have been punishing!”
There was silence for a moment then I heard Matt holler, “Well how the hell did she find that out?”
“Great, just great! Get here now!” I had never heard him angrier. He clicked the phone shut and furiously shoved it into his pocket.
“Fucking wonderful!” he said as he passed me on the way back to Kelly. “She’s pregnant. And he sent her to Amelia’s doctor! Amelia just got the bill. The man’s an idiot!”
Matt had found some gloves in a rear compartment in his truck and was managing to get most of the poisonous leaves off of Kelly’s body. They had been rubbed all over her face, stuck under her armpits, forced between her legs and stuffed into her mouth. Matt was telling her that he was not going to untie the ropes that bound her because she could do more damage by scratching, and it was obvious by her gyrations and scooting against the floor that she desperately wanted to. Kelly’s dress was nowhere to be found, but she still wore her shoes. I told Matt that he should remove them in case her feet started to swell and when he did; he found leaves tucked in there too.
“God, I can’t believe Amelia would do such a thing!” I could hear the frustration in his voice. I’m sure he felt as helpless against this woman’s groans as I did. We knew she had to be in agony despite the alcohol. But he kept assuring her that help was coming and that she would have relief soon. He talked about the simple little shots that would make her feel better in no time. We had managed to move most of the glass away from Kelly and to get her covered before Connor arrived a few minutes later.
He of course, did not do well with this, and his reaction made Kelly cry that much harder. Then we heard the sirens. I went to flag them down while Matt lifted Connor up off his knees and took him outside to give him a talking to. I could hear him telling him to grow up, to be there for Kelly and to stop blubbering and to show a brave face. Then we watched as the rescue workers took stock of the situation, cut the ropes that Kelly had been tied up with, eased her onto a stretcher and secured her arms and legs with straps. Her vitals were taken and relayed and she was hooked up to IV’s then handily lifted into the ambulance. Connor followed and Matt patted him on the back as encouragement just before the door closed. Matt told the Sunset Beach police officer the bare minimum figuring that Connor would have to be the one to give the report and then we got into the truck to go back home.
I was not happy when he opted to leave me alone at my house. But I knew this had been very upsetting to him. He walked me to the door and gave me a big hug and apologized for his friends. I quirked my head and looked him in the eye. “What did you whisper to Kelly when we left them on the beach?”
He flashed one of his disarming smiles. “I asked her if she was sorry he had spotted her first. We were at a bar in Washington and I’d gone outside to use my cell phone, when I came back they were all chummy. I’ve often told her my timing was off that night.”
“So, are you sorry she’s with him?”
“Hell no! She’d have been fun for a while, but she’s really not my type.”
“Really? How so?”
“T.T.”
“What?”
“Tiny tits.” He said with a big grin. “You saw, she’s all show without a Wonderbra. Not like someone else I know.”
“That can’t be all you care about.”
“Oh believe me, it’s not. But it is a nice fringe benefit.”
“So when will I see you again?” I almost cringed because of how needy that sounded.
“I really don’t know, I have a pretty full schedule this week. I’ll call you when I have everything sorted out.”
Then he pulled me close and kissed me full, hard, and deep. “Delectable at both ends,” he murmured as he walked away.
Chapter Twenty-three
Only The Lonely
I didn’t hear from Matt until Wednesday. His
secretary called Monday morning to let me know that Kelly was going to be fine, but that she was still in the hospital being treated. There was no word on Connor and Amelia or how their little soap opera was playing out. I guess it was too soon to tell about all that.
I knew the whole incident had upset Matt but now I was concerned about how it was going to affect us. I had thought we were evolving into a couple, now I wasn’t so sure. We’d had six dates if you included the phone sex episode, more than the minimum required and promised at the onset. And we’d had one whole weekend together which could count as several dates rolled into one. So were we through? It didn’t seem as if we should be, I thought there was some real promise in something long lasting with Matt, but now, there wasn’t so much as a phone call.
By Wednesday afternoon I was feeling like a total fool and when confronted with failure of any sort, I did as I always did, I went to talk to
Stephen. His ashes were actually interred in Falls Church, Virginia, in a huge mausoleum. But before his ashes were locked in the little vault I had asked for some of his remains to be put in a separate, small container, which I took back home with me and buried in the cemetery close to the house. I had done it surreptitiously of course, late at night after a rainstorm when the earth was soft and no one was around. I had chosen a spot near a tree and hurriedly dug a hole, thinking how nice it would be to have a part of him near. It had comforted me many times just knowing he was close. So, feeling like I was the world’s biggest fool, I went to visit Stephen.
How stupid I was to succumb to such blatant seduction, one that clearly had shown no promise for any kind of future. I had known at the time that I was in over my head. He was too worldly, way too handsome by half, and obviously a professed bachelor with absolutely no need to tie himself to one woman. What had I been thinking?
As I berated myself and called myself all manner of things ugly, a part of me stepped outside my body and listened with an unbiased ear to my rumblings and lambastings. I had to laugh after a few minutes. Had I actually called myself a sleaze bag? I was not a sixteen-year-old virgin who had given herself to the football star. For God’s sake I was a grown woman, entitled to some fun, with or without feelings mucking things up. Lots of women did the deed with no thought other than having to straighten their shirt afterward. Why was I holding myself to such a high standard? Oh, okay, other than the fact that he was only the second man to have bedded me. Floor-ed me, limo-ed me, truck-ed me, access bridged-ed me, you name it. Come to think of it, he was the first man to have done a lot of things with me and to me. And God how I missed him.
That night I went for a walk on the beach by myself. I figured I needed the introspection the ceaseless roll of the ocean always gave me. But as I walked the early evening beach, close to the water line, all I could think about was Matt. Wondering what he was doing, if he was thinking about me and pondering the same. Then of course there had been that G spot thing he’d done to me on the beach and that sure didn’t help things. I could still feel my body reverberating from that experience.
It was a lovely night but I just couldn’t get over the feeling that something was missing, it was almost as if I was grieving again. I decided to turn back and go home, maybe watch a movie or sit in the hot tub with a book. That was before I ran into a few friends at the gazebo on my way to my car. I hadn’t remembered it was full moon night, but as I left the beach, many were just arriving with beach chairs and coolers.
There were two major full moon groups, one from Brunswick Plantation that had been started many years ago, and the Coyte Group, informally headed by a local builder who adopted his clients as friends and hosted a party on the beach whenever the weather cooperated. His wife Deb was legendary for her howl and together they threw the best full moon parties.
“You can’t leave now,” Jack Cain said, “the moon’ll be up in just a few minutes.”
“I didn’t bring a chair,” I protested, determined to be solitary in my misery.
His wife, Jane, waggled their chairs, “We’ve brought two, and Jack never sits, so use his.” She pushed his chair into my hand and then I had no choice; I had to go if only for a few minutes.
We added our chairs to the large semi-circle to the right of the pier. Jack poured wine he had made himself into plastic cups and we sat around and chit chatted, catching up on all the gossip. The wine, as always, was excellent. I was leery of having too much it was so good. But I forced myself to sip slowly as I was a tag-along to the group tonight and knew I hadn’t been counted when Jack figured out how much wine to bring.
The moon rose full and bright, an unbelievable size, taking up a good portion of the sky beyond the pier. We discussed its unusual color. Jane said it was the color you saw in Tuscany on all the houses, I suggested Fontina, as it reminded me of one of my favorite cheeses, and of course, I was told the idea of the moon being made of cheese wasn’t an original one. Jack said it looked like Post-it Note yellow and I told him he’d worked at I.B.M. too long. Tom said it was like a burnished gold coin, and I had to agree it did. We all admired it and took turns passing around little snacks in baggies. As I hadn’t brought any, I felt guilty about taking more than just a few. And after about twenty minutes the snacks did their job as hors d’oeuvres and woke my appetite. In my misery I had forgotten to eat dinner.
Then someone mentioned the man who had been killed and everyone had a theory. Tom said he was pretty sure he had talked to the man once as he remembered his name, but he couldn’t remember anything else about him. A picture had appeared in the paper and that had confirmed it, but he told us he just couldn’t place him. He thought he had talked to him about a house one time, but then he talked to a lot of people about houses as he had built close to a hundred of them in the area.
I said goodbye to the group in general, thanked Jack and Jane for the chair and wine and made my way through the cooling sand to the gazebo. I stopped at the Island Market that was now owned by Cliff and Lynn Erricksen and their partner Marc Kaplan who owns the pier. I didn’t feel like cooking so I thought a deli sandwich would do the trick.
Mark regaled me with a story about his daughter Jenny who I knew from the karate classes I’d been taking around the time of Stephen’s death. She was married now and her husband was stationed in Iraq. Mark was waiting for him to return so she, along with her sister, could have church weddings. Until then, in his mind, they weren’t really married. Cliff said he didn’t have a mind if he was bound and determined to have two big weddings with formal receptions when everything was already legal for both his daughters. Then I listened as Cliff berated Mark over the car he had just bought, a red Miata, saying it was a girlie car for a man to have. I left them to snipe at each other like old maids while I strolled around and admired the newly renovated store. I waved absentmindedly when Mark called out that he was heading back to the pier.
I was impressed by the selection of wines and as Jack had whet my whistle with a delicious cabernet, I had a hankering for more. I always kept wine at the house, but I’d been so busy lately that I hadn’t gone to Sam’s where I bought it by the case. I had a few bottles of zinfandel that had been on sale at Food Lion, but tonight, I felt like a moody red. I selected two bottles that intrigued me and, as they say in the South, “carried” them home with my turkey and ham club.
On my way back to my car I saw Mark running across the street from the pier parking lot, high stepping and pumping his arms as if his life depended on it. He dodged traffic and jumped an over-sized cooler some tourists had left on the sidewalk. I was impressed with his agility and his speed—he ran as if his shoes were on fire. As he sped past I gave him a what-the-hell look, and he yelled over to me, “Man in a Miata, gotta tell Cliff!”
And as luck would have it, the car Mark had chased with abandon, pulled into the parking lot right in front of the store. I looked over at the man climbing out of the little green sports car and heading into the store. William Conrad as Frank Cannon from the 70s TV show came to mind.
“I dare him to call that man gay,” Mark added as he skidded to a stop and followed the man into the store.
Yeah, I doubted Cliff would call that man gay either. I laughed as I slid under the wheel and started my car.
I had to wait for the bridge, which hardly ever bothered me, as I love to watch the wildlife in the marshes, but this time it did as I needed to use the bathroom. I got home just before ten and after letting Gimlet out, relieving myself, and opening one of the bottles of wine, I checked the phone for messages.
He hadn’t called and I was just miserable enough about it to overindulge a bit. I filled a plastic wine glass and in between nibbles on my sandwich and hearty swigs of wine I changed into my bathing suit. In the hot tub I began berating myself all over again. It was too soon to be physical with a man. I was a fool. He could never care for me the way I was beginning to care for him. I should have gone for an older, more
stable, possibly dull, mediocre-looking man. What did I hope to accomplish by trying to snag a fairly wealthy, very healthy, drop-dead gorgeous man of the world?
I couldn’t lie to myself; I hoped to accomplish marriage. I was in this for the long haul, for the forever after. And I was beginning to have serious doubts as to whether he and I had the same goals in mind. In fact, the more I drank, the more convinced I became that he was only interested in one thing, or more accurately two. Just how many times had he told me how much he liked my breasts?
I put my cup in the niche of the cup holder, what was left of my sandwich on the ledge, and sank all the way down into the water. No I wasn’t suicidal, it wasn’t that bad. I just wanted to sink below the surface in hopes that I could cleanse myself of all thoughts of Matt. When I was pulled up out of the water by my ponytail I had to keep from opening my mouth to scream lest I swallow a mouthful of water.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I spluttered and coughed and blinked water from my lashes. It was Matt, in a business suit that now had a very wet sleeve.
“Uh, just . . . I don’t know, practicing scuba?” My heart, slamming into my chest from fear, veered and began an erratic flutter that was infinitely better.
“Are you drunk?”
“No, I’m not, but I am working on it.”
“Why?” It was a condescending tone, and I didn’t know how to answer him. He seemed almost angry.
And just why was I working so hard on downing this very fine cabernet? I surely couldn’t tell him how insecure I was feeling. I said the first thing that came to mind. “Full moon. It was so beautiful I had to celebrate it.”
He turned to look behind him at the golden disc shining down on us. “So it is.” I heard his shoes drop onto the deck as he kicked them off then I watched as he shed every single article of clothing before stepping over the side and sinking into the tub. He went all the way under as I had, and when he came up, one shake of his head whipped his hair back in place.
The Widows of Sea Trail (The Widows of Sea Trail Trilogy) Page 18