“Bitching about men,” Bodie tossed out. “What else? You?”
“Been there, done that,” Marley yelled with a grin. “What are you guys drinking. Next round is on me.”
“White wine,” Keva said.
Bodie drained the frozen concoction in her glass. “I could use another mojito.”
“You got it. Grab me an empty chair while I’m gone. I’ll be back.” Marley pushed her way to the packed bar and bumped into Gilly.
“I hope you’re not mad about the house.”
“Of course not,” Marley stated. “You gave me a place to stay when I needed one. How’s the new couple doing?”
“They love it. And the town. Do you like your new place?”
“I do. But it’s too much room for one person.”
Gilly bumped her shoulder in a friendly gesture. “What about Gideon moving in?”
Amused at the gossip rearing its head, Marley laughed. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure that would work. He loves his house. And I love mine. We aren’t joined at the hip.”
“Not yet.”
Marley started to protest but decided why bother. She was here to relax and not to defend her relationship with Gideon. Instead, she went another way. “Do you know a woman named Ellie Woodside?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Just wondered if she was involved with anyone.”
“Ellie? No way. Poor girl. She has lousy taste in men. Her ex-boyfriend was a man named Damon Pettigrew. He got mixed up with a meth crowd in high school, and he turned into an abuser, an awful guy. She finally got rid of him about eighteen months ago.”
“How?”
“Brent Cody threatened Damon with jail time if he didn’t leave town. Brent finally talked her into filing a restraining order against him, something he could enforce. I guess it must’ve worked. No one’s seen him around for a year and a half.”
“But I heard Ellie lives with her dad. Didn’t the father try to protect his daughter?”
“Her father suffers from a progressive neurological disorder called corticobasal degeneration. If he gets around at all, it’s in a wheelchair. I doubt he could lift a finger to help Ellie out of a physical altercation. Why do you ask?”
Marley told her about Hollis Crow.
“Aww, that’s sweet. I had no idea Hollis had a crush on Ellie. But that doesn’t sound like Mr. Woodside keeping her from a good guy like Hollis. Mr. Woodside used to run the souvenir shop. That’s who Malachi bought the T-shirt shop from. He’s a nice guy. His disease is the reason he sold the shop. He started having symptoms while Ellie was back in high school. As I understand it, they needed the money.”
“Weird. Where do the Woodsides live?”
Gilly gave her shoulder another bump. “Playing matchmaker? I like it. I’ll help you out.” She wrote down their address on a small paper napkin and slid it across the bar. “When you get ready to go, if you need help, I’ll go over there with you.”
“Maybe you should. Ellie won’t know me at all. Gideon thinks I’m butting my nose in, which I will be. But I keep seeing Hollis’s face and the disappointment. He seemed so downhearted that she hadn’t even stopped by to check on him after his accident.”
“That doesn’t sound like Ellie either. You know, at one time, she wanted to be a nurse.”
“What happened?”
“I just assumed it was because money was tight, and she had to take care of her dad.”
“Ah. So that’s why she works at the animal clinic and cleans houses with Hannah Summers.”
“Well, Hannah has her own cleaning service in between her time spent managing the community garden. Ellie took over some of Hannah’s clients when Hannah started helping Caleb with the vineyard.”
When the bartender slid her drink order in front of her, she paid the tab and turned back to Gilly. “Thanks for the info. I gotta go. Keva and Bodie are waiting for their drinks. Why don’t you stop by the house on your day off?”
“Sounds like a plan. Mind if I bring my kids and Merlin?”
“Of course not. They’d be good for Barkley.”
Marley bumped and squeezed her way back to the table, carrying a tray full of drinks.
“Took you long enough,” Bodie snapped. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ve been in a sour mood ever since I got dumped. I’m harboring a grudge against mankind. And by mankind, I mean men in general.”
Keva rolled her eyes. “I was hoping a night out listening to music would help her deal. Looks like I was wrong.”
Bodie snatched up her mojito, took a generous gulp. “It’ll take more than a little music to mollify this pissed off girl.”
“Easy on the booze there, Bodie,” Marley cautioned. Looking around for a little support from the other woman, she noticed Keva couldn’t take her eyes off Malachi on stage. “He’s easy to look at, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You know he used to play for Moss Radley. You’ve heard of the band, right? It was a grunge band back in the ’90s.”
“Get out,” Keva shouted. “That’s the Malachi Rafferty?”
“The one and only.”
But Bodie wasn’t having any of it. “Oh, stop it. Please. I don’t want to listen to how attracted you are to so and so right now. Okay? I’m done with ever believing there’s a guy out there for everyone. It’s fairy-tale bullshit.”
Marley was beginning to see a little of herself in Bodie. The woman’s cynic side shined right through like a giant meteor.
“Why don’t we get out of our chairs and dance?” Keva suggested. “This music makes me wanna move, not sit on my ass all night.”
Marley started to object but looked over at how miserable Bodie was. “Sure. Why not?” She grabbed Bodie’s arm. “Come on, sista. Show me what you got.”
Bodie downed her entire mojito. “Let’s do it.”
Together the trio of women twirled toward the stage. Dark Horse amped up the juice on a trendy rendition of one of Malachi’s early songs. The crowd recognized it and went wild. Everyone got to their feet, stomping and swaying to the beat.
For the duration of the song, it was bedlam, bodies slamming into bodies.
Marley had to get out of there and headed for the front door. Much to her surprise, she found Jordan already standing outside, leaning up against the building. “Are you okay?”
“I guess I’m feeling my age. My night out only made me miss being at home. I know it sounds silly.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’d give you a ride home, but I don’t have wheels yet.”
“You ready to get out of here, too?”
“I think so.”
“Come on then, my car’s parked down the street. Want to see the B&B?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll give you the grand tour of the place. You can meet Nick.” Jordan had only taken a few steps when she glanced at her watch. “Damn it. I’ve missed saying goodnight to the kids.”
That empty hole in Marley’s heart simply filled with envy. “Don’t let that stop you. When you get home, you head straight into their rooms anyway. Wake them up if you have to. God, I wish I could do that.”
“I’m so very sorry. I can’t imagine the horror of losing my kids.”
Marley’s shoulders drooped at the knowledge. It took some of the shine off the evening. “Hey, I guess everyone knows but they’re too polite to bring it up. Look, do you mind if I take a raincheck on the tour? Maybe another night.”
“I don’t mind. Why don’t we exchange numbers? That way, you can call me if you ever want to talk. I’m still happy to drive you home.”
Marley keyed in the number Jordan rattled off. “That’s all right. Thanks anyway. You get home to those kids. And your hubby.”
“What will you do?”
She glanced across the street at the old pub. She fought the longing inside her belly. “I better go back inside. Otherwise, Keva will think I make a habit of disappearing without so much as a goodbye.”
“Are you
sure?”
“Yup. You go on home. According to Wally, I’m this close to getting my wheels back on Monday. I’ll get the directions from Gilly and hit you up for that tour then. How does that sound?”
“Any time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Neither was she, Marley decided as she watched Jordan walk down the street to where an SUV was parked. After waving Jordan off, Marley took a deep breath and opened the bar door, forcing herself back into the noise and the crowd.
Gideon had just finished stuffing his face with a burrito he’d made himself when his doorbell rang. Barkley immediately went into a tizzy, yapping at the front door.
“Stop that,” Gideon told the dog as he got up from the stool at the island counter and headed into the entryway. He saw through the glass on either side that it was Quentin.
“How’s the dog-sitting thing going?” Quentin asked as he meandered past the pooch. “Got a beer?”
“Sure. Barkley and I are spending quality time together. You should’ve brought Beckham’s dog. What’s his name again?”
“Buckley,” Quentin supplied. “No can do. Buckley is home trying to console Beckham after a fight with Faye. She broke up with him. Teenagers.”
“You’re sure everything is okay with her?”
“Not really. Not after tonight. The girl’s been a lot more secretive than usual. Always on her phone. Maybe I should give her brother a call. Do you mind if I invite him over for a beer? We could sit down and discuss these things without Beckham around to eavesdrop. And since the women are off…partying…”
“No problem. The more, the merrier.”
Andy DeMarco responded to the call by showing up with a bag of chips and a six-pack of bottled beer. “So, what’s up with Faye? If you can tell me that, it’s worth spending a few hours trying to figure her out. Because I’m learning that raising a fourteen-year-old girl on my own is a pain in the butt. Not only is she moody—nice one minute then snaps your head off the next—but she’s also learned how to lie. She’ll tell me she’s going over to Beckham’s house but then I learn later that’s not where she was. I keep telling her that if she acts like this and gets in trouble, Carla Vargas won’t think twice about taking her away from me.”
“You’re doing a remarkable job,” Quentin said. “All teenagers, boy or girl, test your patience at some point every day.”
“But that’s just it. Why? Why is she acting this way? I’m the one who doesn’t have a life of my own. It’s Saturday night for God’s sake. I should be doing what other guys my age are doing—going to concerts, shooting pool, hanging out with my friends. Instead, I can’t even keep a girlfriend because I’m trying to stay on top of Faye’s issues. Every single day it’s the same argument about homework and doing chores. And trust me, lately, that adds up to a lot of bitching and moaning. Instead of getting to enjoy myself, I’m stuck at home with a temperamental, sulky kid who bites my head off if I ask her to do a load of laundry. Everything I do is to keep a roof over her head. But does she appreciate it? No. She needs to cooperate better, hold up her end of the deal or this isn’t going to work.”
“Take a seat,” Gideon offered. “Why do you think she broke up with Beckham tonight?”
“Probably because no one can make her happy these days. Faye doesn’t ask anymore, she makes demands. I got us two cheap cell phones so we could communicate better, but all she does is text Beckham.”
Quentin frowned at that. “Are you sure it’s Beckham she’s texting? Because he mentioned that she isn’t talking to him as often as she used to. She spends most of their time together complaining about his job at the market, and his job mowing lawns on the weekends. Like today, she accused of him of not spending enough time with her. So, are you sure it’s Beckham she’s texting?”
“Maybe she’s getting attention from someone else,” Gideon suggested. “Someone online. Have you looked at her phone?”
Andy’s face tightened. “She hides it from me. But I have the latest statement somewhere. I just paid the bill without really looking at it or checking the phone numbers of who she’s been talking to. I assumed it was Beckham.”
“That’s the way she acted in the hospital, too. Secretive,” Gideon pointed out. “Agitated. Her drug screen was clear, that’s why I asked Quentin about her home life, school, and stress.”
Andy twisted the lid off his Corona and plopped down onto the sofa. “Now you’ve got me worried. I should march home right now and take a better look at that statement.”
“Want us to come with you?” Quentin asked. “Because I’d like to get to the bottom of this, too. Is she at home?”
“She’s supposed to be grounded because she didn’t turn in an assignment. I found that out from her teacher. Add another lie to a long list of things she told me that wasn’t true,” Andy grumbled. “See? I can’t even trust her to do her homework anymore. And, she’s started neglecting her turtle. There was a time when she loved that thing more than anyone. But now, she acts like it’s in the way.”
“Something’s definitely off with her behavior,” Quentin confirmed. “In the last two weeks, she hasn’t been hanging around the house like before.”
Panic started to move through Andy’s gut. “You don’t suppose she’s met some creep on the Internet, do you?”
“Before you jump to conclusions, let’s go over the phone bill,” Gideon recommended. “It’s better to have the facts than simple supposition. We’ll take my SUV and head to your house.”
But once the men reached the DeMarco home on Cape May, Andy announced that Faye wasn’t in her bedroom.
“She’s snuck out again,” Andy snarled, dialing her cell number. When she picked up, he yelled into the phone, “Where are you? Why aren’t you at home? You’re supposed to be grounded and working on that term paper.”
All Gideon and Quentin heard was a one-sided conversation from an agitated Andy. They didn’t get the entire gist of the conversation until the younger man hung up.
“She went to the library. Or so she claims.” Andy glanced at the clock. “But doesn’t it close at nine? That was an hour ago.”
Quentin made a face. “I’m afraid so. Let’s get a look at that phone bill and see who she’s been texting.”
Andy obliged by going to a desk and rifling through one of the drawers until he pulled out a piece of paper. He studied the numbers. “Here’s one I don’t recognize. And she’s been calling and texting it for a month. I need to go check and see if she’s anywhere near the library.”
Gideon dialed the number. When an older man’s voice on the other end answered, he asked, “Who is this?”
The man hung up.
Gideon dialed it again and this time got voicemail. He dialed it four more times, but no one picked up. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that outgoing message is not the voice of a teenager. It sounds like a grown man. I think it’s time to locate Faye and find out who this guy is.”
“You’re right about that,” Andy stated, heading back outside.
“You’re upset,” Gideon noted. “Let me drive. We’ll circle back to Ocean Street and see if she’s hanging out at the library even though it closed an hour ago. Maybe she’s with a group of other teenagers.”
Andy shook his head as he climbed into the back seat. “I doubt it. She doesn’t have that many friends. The school enrollment for the high school here is still low.”
“He’s right,” Quentin said from the passenger seat. “We don’t have more than twenty-five students. You’d think they’d be a tight unit.”
“You’d think,” Andy muttered.
When Gideon pulled up to the library on Ocean Street, they piled out of the car to walk around the building. The doors were locked tight. But there was no sign of Faye anywhere, not at the back, in the parking lot, or at the sides. They hadn’t spotted her along the route, either.
“I think it’s time to call Brent,” Gideon proposed.
Andy used his fingers to comb through his mahogany
hair. He covered his face with shaky hands. “This could jeopardize everything. Doesn’t she understand that this could land her in foster care? She knows Carla Vargas is just looking for a reason to take her away from me.”
Gideon swung an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Look, she answered her phone. That’s something. We know she’s around town somewhere we just need to find her. Brent doesn’t have to call the social worker.”
“Yeah, right,” Andy sputtered out. “But we can’t not contact the cops. Right now, Brent’s as good an option as any.”
Nineteen
By the time Marley left the bar, a wispy fog had moved in, curling over the docks. It was nearing eleven o’clock when she’d said her goodbyes to Keva and Bodie and set off for Gideon’s house to pick up her dog. She hoped the good doctor would ask her to spend the night.
But the cop car parked down the street near the library with its flashing lights on, distracted her from that goal. An obvious disturbance of some kind, she concluded. And when she caught sight of Gideon standing a few feet away on the curb with Barkley, she couldn’t get there fast enough. He looked distressed, concerned.
As soon as she got within reach of Gideon, Barkley reared up and tried to jump in her arms in greeting.
“Somebody missed me,” Marley noted, stretching her arms around the dog’s neck. Then she noticed the look on Gideon’s face. “What’s wrong? What’s going on here? What happened? Why are you all standing around the library?”
“We can’t find Faye DeMarco. Her brother talked to her earlier, and now she’s not answering her phone. She told him she was at the library. Obviously, she’s not here, and we can’t find anyone who’s seen her since around eight-thirty when she was spotted walking through the parking lot.”
“Okay. But that’s only two and a half hours ago. Something else has you worried.”
“We discovered Faye’s been talking to an older man online. Brent ran the phone number she’s been texting, and it came up in a block of numbers registered to a burner phone. And when I called the number an adult male answered. It wasn’t a teenager’s voice. In fact, I let Brent and Colt listen, and they agreed that it didn’t belong to a young boy.”
The Coast Road Home (A Pelican Pointe Novel Book 13) Page 22