by Jean Stone
Of course Annie already knew that. “Yes, but . . .”
“His ex is not going to let her go, but I think it would be best if the girl came back here with him. It’s pretty obvious that a big part of her problem is, plain and simple, she misses her dad. She misses the island. And her friends. I guess John figures the only way he can be there for her is to literally do that. Be there. Permanently. Or at least until she goes to college or outgrows this stage or something.”
Running her finger around the rim of her glass, Annie fought back tears. “I don’t know if I’m more stunned that he’s going to stay there or angry that he didn’t tell me himself.”
“I think he knew you’d be upset.”
“Well, he’d be right about that, wouldn’t he?”
They sat in silence, then Earl said, “Can I get you anything? Cheese and crackers? A tissue? A morphine drip?”
She pretended to laugh a little, though her thoughts shifted to Kevin’s gun for a brief second. She knew, however, that she wasn’t capable of suicide. Just as she knew that remorse over lost love was a sad reason to do it.
“I’m fine,” she said. “This is not my first rodeo, as my father would have said.” The first time he’d said that had been when her mother had left him—had left them—the day after Annie had turned nine. She’d had no idea what he’d meant; she’d only known that life had continued almost as if nothing had happened. She had, however, learned to cook and do the laundry, and she knew that she’d been glad when her mother returned a few weeks later when the rodeo, apparently, had ended. Setting down her glass now, she stood and lifted Bella again. “Let’s go outside and watch Francine cook. That will help me feel better than I do right now.”
She walked through the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen, with Earl following dutifully behind. When she opened the back door and stepped onto the deck, she saw Kevin standing there. As terrific as she already knew that he was, Annie never would have thought she’d be so damned happy to see him.
Chapter 23
“Please stay!” Francine pleaded with Kevin. “I made too much potato salad and Earl will complain that he has to eat it for a week.” She batted her dark lashes at him because Earl had told her she could get a man to do just about anything when she did that. At the time, Annie thought it was offensive that he’d said such a thing to a twenty-year-old, then Francine said she’d already figured that out.
“I love potato salad,” Kevin said. “And I’m starving. I got busy rebuilding the Alvords’ chicken coop and forgot to have lunch.”
“Well then, your wish is my command,” Francine said, waving a spatula at him.
“Sit, have a beer until it’s ready,” Earl said as he wove around Annie and clapped Kevin on the back. “And in the meantime, you can tell us all about your dinner last night with Taylor.”
Kevin looked at him a minute, then broke into a smile. “How’d you know about that? Annie, did you tell him?”
“Your sister did not breathe a word. I saw it in the stars. Or maybe it was on page one in the Gazette.” He retreated back into the house, no doubt to grab a beer for his guest.
Annie could not contain a smile.
“Geez,” Kevin said. “I came to my boss’s house to report on the awesome work I got done today, and I suddenly feel the way a skunk must feel when it’s been entrapped. Or is that ensnared? Never mind. Please. No one make comparisons to what I just said with the way that I must stink. Like I said, it was a long, hardworking day.”
The screen door slapped behind Earl and he handed Kevin a bottle. “Drink,” he said. “Then talk.”
“And don’t leave anything out,” Francine said.
“Annie?” Kevin pleaded. “Save me?”
“Too late. Around here, I’m afraid you must save yourself. If it’s any consolation, though, Taylor is a hero around here today. It’s because of her that Claire got into rehab on the island. But I’m afraid that doesn’t let you off the hook. You still have to tell us everything about your date. Well, almost everything, I suppose.”
Kevin scrunched up his face in a weak attempt to look exasperated, then he laughed and launched into a monologue about dinner at Alchemy, where he’d had the scallops and Taylor had halibut.
“Did she wear her flannel shirt?” Francine asked.
“No. She wore a dress. Black and short and very sexy with black stockings with seams. And did I mention her stilettos with the bright red soles?”
That comment shut up everyone, even Annie, for a few seconds. Then Kevin guffawed. “Ha! Got ya!”
Francine went after him with the spatula again. “You’re such a dolt.”
“Yes,” Kevin replied. “I am at that.”
The little group continued to jabber; Annie tuned most of it out. She went down onto the lawn and tried to help Bella attempt another walking step, but the baby kept falling onto her thickly diapered bottom and giggling. But with happy voices of people she loved in the background, and Bella’s innocent tumblings, Annie felt the ache of John-might-not-come-back easing bit by bit.
By the time the chicken was grilled and potato salad and sliced tomatoes were heaped onto the plates, conversation about Taylor had dwindled, though Francine expressed sorrow that Kevin would not tell them more.
“There isn’t any more,” he said. “Scout’s honor.” He raised his fingers in a way that looked more like a peace sign than a Boy Scout pledge.
Dinner was delicious. By the time Francine served the shortcake and again announced that the berries might be the last of the local season, Kevin asked for a big serving because next year would be a long time to have to wait. He said it as if both he and Annie would still be on the island.
As the sun began to set, Earl asked to be excused so he could call Claire and say good night. Kevin and Annie cleaned up the dishes while Francine put Bella to bed. Then they said their goodbyes and got into their respective vehicles.
Annie headed to her cottage, and Kevin went toward the On Time to go back to John’s town house. Annie wondered if John would sell it soon, if he’d break all of his island ties except those with his parents.
But, despite the way it had begun, the evening had been nice. Which was why, when Annie pulled into her driveway and Kevin pulled in behind her, the pain, the aching, the thump gripped her again.
He knows, she thought. And he wants to talk about it. How could she tell him she did not?
* * *
As it turned out, Kevin didn’t know.
They climbed out of their vehicles and stood in Annie’s driveway, leaning against the hood of Kevin’s truck, when he asked what was bothering her. Rather than go into the sordid details that were bound to make her cry, Annie simply said John didn’t know when he’d be able to come back, that the situation with his daughter might need more tending to.
“It sounds upsetting,” Kevin said.
“Well, yes. The bottom line is, Lucy is only thirteen. I think she really misses her dad. If anything, this helps to prove to me what a good man he is.” She believed it. Sort of. But right then she was tired and didn’t want to have to keep pretending that everything was fine. Nor did she want to continue talking about John. She only wanted to go to bed, pull the covers over her head no matter how warm the night, and will herself into sleep. She could not, however, give Kevin the brush-off. Not when it was apparent there was something else he wanted to say.
“So tell me how your date really went last night,” she said with pretend enthusiasm. “Did you have a good time?” Despite how Taylor had saved the day for Claire (and Earl), it was still hard to picture Kevin with her. Still hard to picture Taylor with any man. The woman, after all, kept her feminine side well concealed from the general public.
“It was good. To be honest, it was nice to sit across the table from a woman who wasn’t my mother or my sister. No offense.”
She laughed. “None taken.”
“So,” he continued, “I’ve decided I’m going to talk to a lawyer.”
Annie thought that by now she would have been accustomed to being startled by the kinds of comments that men sometimes made. But apparently she was not. Not even close. “What does that mean? A lawyer for what?” Dear God, he wasn’t afraid that Fiona would accuse him, too, was he?
“I need to find out if I can get a divorce. I don’t know what the rules are, but, for God’s sake, Annie, I’m so trapped I’m choking. The woman I was married to for over a dozen years doesn’t even know who the hell I am. There’s a chance she’ll stay like this forever. If I could have my wife back, I know I wouldn’t feel this way, but to be honest, I’ve finally started to ask myself, ‘What kind of life is this for me?’”
“There’s no chance she’ll get better?” Annie hated to challenge his motive, but for some reason Kevin seemed smitten with Taylor, and Annie didn’t want him to do anything he might regret.
He shook his head. “I’ve done a lot of reading. The odds are no, especially since it’s been such a long time. And every time I think of her I’m reminded that it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Kevin. You tried to warn her, right?”
“I should have stopped her. In addition to being her husband, I was her boss. I should have told her I’d pull her union card if she tried to do something so stupid.”
Annie figured that no matter what she said, he would continue to feel that the accident had been because of him. Until he could forgive himself. Though it was far from the same thing, Annie had often felt guilty about the accident that had killed Brian. If they hadn’t been married, he would not have been heading home to her when it happened; he might have stayed at his parents’ place or been en route to the apartment he’d had before they were married: It was on the other side of the city, so he would not have been anywhere near the drunk driver.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said now. “Except that I’m here for you, Kevin. And I will be, no matter what you decide. No judgment. Ever.” She crossed her hands, held them to her chest. “Let me be your safe zone. Okay?”
With tears in his eyes, he gave her a bear hug. “I am so lucky you came into our lives.” The “our,” of course, referred to his life and Donna’s, their traveling mother, who would be back—finally—in a few weeks.
Annie was about to tell him that he was her brother and she loved him when a rolling, rumbling sound powered through the moment. Kevin must have heard it, too; they stepped out of their hug and stood very still, listening to the trademark sound of a Porsche engine as it roared down the road and turned into the Littlefields’ driveway next door.
That time, she wasn’t dreaming. “Oh my God,” Annie whispered, as if she couldn’t let anyone but Kevin hear her. “He’s back.” She dropped into a squat and squinted toward the house, as if squatting and squinting would help her see through the thick evergreens.
“The bridesmaid’s brother?”
“It must be.”
“Should you call her? Is she even still here?”
“She couldn’t get a flight until Thursday. But, no, I don’t think I should call her. What if he’s really a killer?”
Kevin laughed. “Death by honey cake? You’ve been writing too many mysteries, Annie.”
“I’m serious. We don’t really know what happened. The police are treating it like an accident. But Fiona disagrees. If I call her, she might want to come over and meet him face-to-face.”
“Wouldn’t that be smart? To get it over with?”
“Not if her being poisoned was intentional.”
Kevin joined her now, brother and sister sitting on their heels as if they were children searching for four-leaf clovers in the grass. Or sea glass on the beach. “What if we go over?” he asked. “You and me? What if we confront him? Do you think he’ll try to shove honey down our throats?”
“No,” Annie said, and straightened up. “More than likely, he’ll shoot us. If he has a gun.”
Brushing off his jeans, Kevin stood up, too. “You mock me, dear sister. Well, I tell you what. I know this has been bothering you. So let’s go over. Safety in numbers, right? If nothing else, maybe he’ll tell you something you can take back to Fiona before she leaves.”
She smiled. “You sound as if you care.”
“You care. That’s what matters to me. Besides, I’m starting to like it here. I figure it’s not a bad idea to get to know the neighbors.”
“They won’t be my neighbors for very long.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Shall I bring my pistol?”
Annie tossed him a loving glare.
“Okay, then,” he said, “shut up and follow me.”
Fueled by nervous energy for what they were about to do, Annie redirected him along the path that led between the two estates, praying they wouldn’t run into Roger Flanagan. Now that Roger knew she was helping Fiona, he might have her arrested for trespassing. After all, she knew that, like animals, people could sometimes do strange things if they felt backed into a corner.
For the thousandth time, Annie wanted to turn to Murphy’s ghost to be her loyal guide. But as she thought that, the familiar voice whispered in her ear: This time, let your brother help. Annie laughed and tramped across the lawn.
* * *
Through the tall glass windows of the sunroom, Annie saw Colin standing at the kitchen window. His hair was still blond, like in the image on Wiki; he wasn’t tall—five nine, she guessed. Dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a white dress shirt, he looked every bit a preppy as she had envisioned. He was holding a cell phone, staring at the screen.
She motioned for Kevin to follow her to the door where she and Earl had once gained easy entrance.
They stepped undetected into what had been a laundry room, then into the kitchen.
“Colin?” Annie asked in a low, hopefully unthreatening voice.
He flinched. He spun around. “Who the hell are you?”
“Your neighbor. My name is Annie Sutton. I live in the Flanagans’ guest cottage. This is my brother, Kevin MacNeish.”
Colin’s gaze darted from her to him. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m a little busy. I just learned my sister is in the hospital.” He went back to the phone screen and began tapping a message.
“Wait,” Annie said. “Fiona’s all right. She’s been released.”
“Where is she?”
“Still on the island. But I’m not sure she wants to see you.”
His eyes narrowed and moved back and forth again. “What the hell are you talking about? Who are you, anyway?”
“She told you,” Kevin interrupted. “She lives next door. Your sister was in the hospital because she was poisoned the night of Dana Flanagan’s wedding.”
“And she thinks you did it,” Annie interjected. “That you tried to kill her.”
He gripped the phone, pursed his lips, and began to tap again. “I’m calling the police,” he said.
“Good,” Kevin replied. “They’ve been looking for you.”
Colin paused. He studied them, the way Annie had studied him, with obvious caution.
While awaiting his next move, her eyes scanned the room and landed on a wastebasket. She stepped closer to it. It was empty. Perhaps confirmation that he had destroyed the evidence, as Fiona had claimed.
“Where is it, Colin? Where’s the honey cake?”
He glowered. “The what?”
“The honey cake,” Annie repeated, knowing she wouldn’t have dared to say it if Kevin weren’t there to protect her. “Where did you dispose of it?”
He folded his arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And even if I did, I can’t imagine why you’d think it was any of your business.”
“Your sister made it my business, Colin. So, please. Tell us what you did with it.”
But he stood firm. “You’re insane.”
They had a standoff for a moment until Kevin cleared his throat. “I hate to tell you, Mr. Littlefield, but my sister is not going to budge. I’m pretty sure you kn
ow how stubborn sisters can be. So I suggest you tell her what she wants to know. Otherwise, she’ll just stand here all night.”
Annie bit her lip so she wouldn’t break into laughter. She must remember to thank Donna for giving her an awesome brother, even though he apparently had quickly learned that she could be stubborn. And she must also remember to thank Murphy, who probably had seen to it that Kevin had come to the Vineyard in the first place.
Colin pushed a shock of hair off his tanned forehead, then put his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Look,” he said, his voice sounding almost reasonable. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t eaten honey cake since I was probably seventeen. But if you insist there’s one here, help yourselves. Check every drawer and cabinet that’s left. I don’t think you’ll find any food, let alone a cake. We live rather minimally these days.”
The appliances had strangely been removed since the winter. Annie decided not to mention that someone had put a mini refrigerator and a microwave on the floor. “Fiona said the cake was in a box,” she said. “And that the box was next to the sink.”
“Well,” Colin replied, “then you’re right about one thing. As you can see, there’s nothing there now.”
Annie sighed. “So you never saw a honey cake? And you’re saying that a woman on the boat didn’t give you one?”
He stared at her for several seconds. Then he said, “Now you say you think that a woman on the boat gave me honey cake? What did she do? Hand me a box and say, ‘Here. This is poisonous. Give it to your sister’? Jesus, lady. With all due respect, you’re nuts, you know?”
Annie started for the door. Then she turned around. “I don’t suppose you want to tell us where you’ve been since the wedding?”
He glowered again.
Kevin stepped halfway between them as if to prevent a physical altercation, a fisticuff, Annie’s dad would have called it. “Look, dude. We’ve been trying to find you since that night. We know you left Chappy then, but no one’s seen you since. Your sister was poisoned just before you disappeared. The police checked the ferry and the commercial airline manifests, but there was no record of you having left the Vineyard.”