by Lynda Curnyn
So Big Shot didn’t have his own private slip yet. I was hoping that would work in my favor. “You wouldn’t happen to keep track of who docks there on the weekends, would you?”
“Sure do. Everyone who docks here needs to show registration to sign up for a slip.” Then he smiled. “And pay the fees, of course.”
I smiled back. “You wouldn’t be able to show me the sign-in records, would you?”
He frowned. “What would you need to see those for?”
“I’m just trying to get a sense of availability. See, if I get a boat, I want to be sure I’ll be able to dock it. I plan on spending a lot of time out here.”
“Well, I can tell you. We got one hundred slips and we tend to fill them up on Friday and Saturday nights. Especially during full season. But not always. Best to get here early.”
“What about, say, a Saturday night in June?”
He shrugged.“Probably about a sixty percent occupancy rate.”
“You wouldn’t mind if I had a look at June, would you?”
“Well, I just told you—”
“I know, I’m just nervous, you know? I’m thinking about renting a boat for the month of June next year, but I don’t want to invest if I won’t be able to dock on a regular basis.”
He glanced around. “I’m not really allowed to show the records, ma’am.”
I ignored the fact that he’d just “ma’amed” me—I wasn’t that much older than him after all—and said, “Just one little look.” Then I beamed him another smile. “I won’t tell anyone.”
His expression turned uneasy.‘I’d need to talk to my boss. And he’s not here this weekend.“
Sage had been right about Chad. Definitely a Rules boy. Then, spurred by the thought of Sage, I said,“Even if I was a good friend of someone you know?” Then I pulled out my ace. “Sage Daniels? You remember her, don’t you? Pretty girl, with streaky brown hair and green eyes.”
His eyes widened and suddenly his golden-tan features flushed bright red.
Oh, he remembered Sage all right. And clearly the memory made him uncomfortable. Of course, I knew why. Sage had told me every gory detail of her ill-fated night with Chad. Right down to the “I have a girlfriend” routine he’d pulled on her. And though I felt a little guilty using it against him—he did, after all, seem like a sweet kid—I was desperate.
“I know Sage remembers you,” I continued, “in fact, she pointed you out to me just a couple of weeks ago. I think you were playing Frisbee with your girlfriend at the beach.”
I saw him swallow hard.
“I don’t suppose your girlfriend knows about Sage, does she? And she’d probably be pretty unhappy if someone happened to tell her about the little tumble you took with Sage that night, right?”
Yanking his sunglasses off the top of his head, he quickly slid them back over his eyes. “Come with me.”
I followed Chad to a small wooden structure, which looked a bit like a shack, near the ferry dock, waiting just outside the door while he fished around inside, since the shack didn’t look big enough to accommodate the both of us.
He came out moments later, handing me a clipboard thick with papers. “That’s July on top. June is right beneath it,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, watching as he folded his arms across his chest and glanced around nervously.
After I located the page for June, I quickly scanned the list of names and registrations until I came to Saturday, June 12th.
Running my finger down the line of boat owners who docked that night, I nearly bit through my tongue in frustration when I discovered Donnie Havens’s name wasn’t there. I even scanned the week prior to June 12th, only to learn that Donnie had docked the Friday night before. And left on the Sunday before.
“Can I see the list of private slip owners?” I asked, handing back the clipboard. Though I was quickly losing hope, I figured there was no harm in looking.
He scowled. “What do you need to see those for? I thought you said—”
“Chad, can I see it please?” I said, smiling sweetly. “I’d hate to think you’d lose such a great girlfriend. Especially after all you’ve sacrificed to keep her.”
He stepped into the shack again, returning moments later with a separate list, which wasn’t quite as long.
I quickly ran my finger down the list, my stomach plummeting to my feet when I discovered Donnie’s name wasn’t there, either. Dammit.
The only thing clear to me now was that Donnie more than likely had lied to his wife about his whereabouts that night, but apparently he hadn’t lied to me. He hadn’t been on Fire Island that night.
Which left me right back where I had started. With nothing.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-seven
Sage
What are friends for? Don’t ask me. I haven’t a clue.
“So Donnie Havens didn’t murder Maggie. I don’t understand why you’re so depressed about it, Zoe.“
“I’m not depressed,” she said, slumping even lower on her bar stool.
We were at The Inn, where we were supposed to be seeing a band that was due to come on at ten, though it was edging on ten-fifteen and they were still setting up. Which was good news for Nick, who for some reason or another wasn’t here yet. But bad news for me, since I’d been sitting here listening to Zoe’s half-baked theories for the past twenty minutes. The only thing I had to be grateful for was that she had absolved Tom, though I was surprised to learn Tom had finally let loose the tight rein he’d been keeping on his emotions. And with Zoe, of all people.
“I don’t understand why you can’t accept the fact that the woman just drowned, plain and simple,” I said now.
Zoe shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sage, but it just doesn’t add up.”
“What, exactly, doesn’t add up?”
She sat up straight on the bar stool again. “For one thing, she had an awful lot of Valium in her system.”
“Trust me, the woman needed Valium. I worked for her, remember?”
“Well, she also told Tom she was going to Fair Harbor Market that night, and the market was closed.”
“So? She made a mistake and came home.”
“I don’t think she even went, Sage. For one thing, her cell phone records indicate that she called the market, so she probably knew it was closed. For another, Nick told me she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt when he left the house at seven-thirty. But a dress had been found on the beach with her body. She wouldn’t change into a dress to hike all the way to Fair Harbor Market.”
“Maybe she stopped at a friend’s for drinks—”
Zoe shook her head. “No one saw her that night. At least no one who will admit it. She had to have had a lover. I thought that lover was Donnie Havens—and he might very well have been. I mean, he could have taken the ferry, though that seems like a stretch, considering how puffed up he is about that boat of his. And even if he did take the ferry, I have no way of proving it. They don’t keep records of ferry riders.”
I took another healthy sip from my drink. “I still can’t believe what you said to Chad,” I said, feeling a flash of fresh annoyance. Zoe had been surprised to learn that I hadn’t appreciated her using the personal details of my life to manipulate Chad. Clearly she still didn’t get it, if the way she was looking at me right now was any indication.
“Sage, you’re not, like, still into him, are you?”
“No!” That was even more irritating. I sometimes think my best friend doesn’t understand me at all. Or doesn’t listen to me. “I told you about my date with Vince last night. What would I want with that little boy if I could have a man like Vince?”
Zoe smiled. “You really like Vince, don’t you?”
I looked at her, feeling my msides warm just at the thought of Vince.“I do. 1 mean, I really do.” I sighed. “Do you know that for the first time ever, I actually thought about being married?”
Zoe’s eyes widened. “Okay, who are you and what have you done
with my best friend?”
“Shut up,” I said, laughing as I did, my gaze moving to the door. “I just hope he stops by.” When I had learned Tom, Vince and Stan Sackowitz were going to The Out tonight to talk business, I felt a little pissed off that I hadn’t been invited. After all, I was the one who had brought Stan in as a customer to Edge. I almost said something to Tom, but I got the feeling that the boys wanted a night out on their own to shoot the breeze, and though I found that annoying, too, I supposed I was going to have to live with it. At least I had had the gumption to tell Vince, when he swung by the house to pick up Tom, about the band that was playing here tonight. We had spent practically the whole day together in bed, but when I asked him to stop in for a drink after dinner, he seemed just as intrigued by the prospect as I was. I just hope he does come by, I thought, my gaze moving to the door once more.
“Where’s Nick?” Zoe said.
“Who knows? He said he was coming tonight, but then he disappeared.” As did Francesca, which caused me no small amount of worry, especially when I learned Nick had taken her to dinner last night. He was up to something. I just hoped it wasn’t his usual stupid boy tricks.
But all thoughts of Nick dissipated when I saw Vince come through the door.
I smiled, waving him over.
“Hey,” I said, feeling pleasure move through me when he leaned in and kissed me, as if I were the girlfriend, rather than simply the girl from the night before.
“You remember Zoe,” I said, turning to Zoe.
“Of course. How could I forget your oldest friend?” Vince said, smiling at Zoe.
“Speaking of which, where is your old friend Tom?” I asked. “And Stan for that matter?”
“Tom and Stan looked about ready to fall asleep over dessert. They both went home.”
“That’s what you get for hanging with the old guys at The Out,” I said.
“Oh yeah? As opposed to the hot young things at The Inn?” Vince replied with a wink.
I smiled. In fact, I was smiling so much since he walked through the door, my cheeks were starting to hurt. “Let me get you a drink,” I said.
“Well, I can’t really stay long.”
The ache moved down to my throat. “Why not?”
“I’ve got to head out early tomorrow morning to pick up Sophia. Gabriella’s going out of town for a couple of days and she’s got an early flight. Which means I’ve got to be in Brightwaters by about 6:00 a.m.”
“Do they even have ferries that early?” Zoe asked.
Vince smiled. “Oh, I don’t take the ferry. I have a boat.” saw Zoe sit up in her chair. “Is that right?”
“I’m going to get the bartender,” I said. “Sure you can’t have one little drink?”
Vince shook his head at me, though that smile was still on his face. “Okay, one drink. But only a little one.”
I signaled Danny, just as I heard Zoe say, “So you work out of the Long Island office, too?”
“That’s right,” Vince said*
“That must be convenient,” Zoe continued. “I bet you could take the boat straight from the office right to Fire Island on the weekends.”
“Well, not exactly,” Vince replied. “My office is in Bohemia. My boat is docked over in Brightwaters. Across the bay.”
“Vince, what do you want?” I asked, once Danny stood before me. I threw a glance at Zoe, wondering at her interest.
“Dewars on the rocks,” Vince said.
“I understand you were in Italy this year,” Zoe said.
“Well, China for most of the year, but I did get to spend a lot of the spring in Italy.”
Zoe nodded. “So when did you get back?”
“To the States?” Vince asked, picking up the drink Danny had placed on the bar in front of him.
Zoe nodded and I looked at her. Where was she going with this?
“June.”
“When in June?” Zoe persisted.
Vince frowned, and suddenly I saw exactly where Zoe was going with this line of questioning. “What difference does it make, Zoe?” I asked, sending her a look.
“I’m just curious,” Zoe said, keeping her gaze on Vince. “You were back for Maggie’s wake. Just wondered if you happened to be here the night she died.”
Vince’s brow furrowed. “Here on Fire Island? God, no. I’d just gotten back from Italy that day.”
“What time?”
“Zoe—” I began, glancing uneasily at Vince. What the hell was she doing?
“Oh, I don’t remember—one, two o’clock.”
“And you didn’t come here?”
“I should think not. I was a bit jet-lagged,” he said, his gaze narrowing on Zoe, as if he was suddenly wondering where this little inquisition was going. I didn’t blame him.
“Zoe, can you come to the bathroom for a minute. I need to talk—”
But Zoe ignored me. “Did you go to the office that day?”
“I believe I did go for a few hours.”
“So you were too tired to go to Fire Island, but not too tired to go to the office?”
He frowned. “I had business to take care of after my trip. If I came to Fire Island after that, I sure as heck don’t remember.”
“You don’t remember? It was the day Maggie died. Where were you when Tom called you? I’m sure he must have called you. I mean, you two are close, right?”
“Vince, you don’t have to answer her,” I said, glaring at Zoe.
Vince glanced at me. Then he shrugged.“I don’t mind answering. I was home. In Brightwaters.”
“Just across the bay,” Zoe said.
“That’s right,” Vince said, raising his glass to his mouth to drink, his gaze still on Zoe.
I was about ready to club Zoe. But since I couldn’t, I said,“Hey, Vince, you up for a quick game of pool?”
Now they both ignored me. “So you could have easily come to Fire Island that night,” Zoe pressed on. “You know, the night Maggie died.”
“Zoe—”
Vince put his drink down on the bar and finally looked at me. “Is there something I should know about here?”
Before Zoe could stop me, I blurted out, “Zoe has this stupid theory that Maggie’s death wasn’t an accident.”
“Sage—” Zoe began.
Now Vince’s eyes went wide. “You’re not implying that I—”
Zoe looked at him. “I’m not implying anything. Just asking.”
He shook his head. “Tom is my best friend. And Maggie was like a sister to me,” he said.“I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing.”
“Vince, I apologize on behalf of my friend,” I said, shooting a look at Zoe.
Vince sighed, smiling slightly at me. “That’s fine, Sage.” Then he looked at Zoe. “The truth is, Zoe, if you really think something like that happened, you probably should go to the police with your findings.”
“I probably should,” Zoe said. “I wonder, though, what they might make of the fact that Maggie received a phone call from the Long Island office on the Saturday she died. Especially in light of the fact that you might have been one of the few people at the office that day.”
Vince stared at Zoe for a minute, then he chuckled, shaking his head.“So that’s what this is all about?” Then he narrowed his gaze at her. “I think I already explained that phone call to the detective who called to follow up. He seemed satisfied with the fact that I had called Maggie on a business matter, if you must know. In addition to being friends, Zoe, Maggie and I did work together.”
“Vince, I’m sorry about—” I began.
He sighed, looking at me. “It’s fine. Look, it was a crazy night. I can’t blame anyone for getting worked up about it. I was pretty worked up myself.”
I took his hand between mine. “Maybe you and I should get out of here. Take a nice walk along the beach. Alone,” I said, throwing a glance at Zoe.
He smiled, his gaze moving to the clock above the bar, before coming to rest on me. “You kno
w, Sage, that sounds wonderful, but it’s pretty late. I still have to pack, close up the house. I probably should go.”
He put his drink down on the bar, reaching into his pocket and throwing a twenty-dollar bill down beside it. “I’ll talk to you next week, Sage.“ Then he turned to Zoe and smiled. ”Good to see you again, Zoe.“
And with that, he left.
Leaving me with Zoe, who I turned on as soon as I saw Vince disappear through the door. “That was the last straw, Zoe.”
“What? Sage, you can’t blame me for—”
I stood up, slamming my glass on the bar as I did. “Oh, I can blame you, all right. And if you just fucked up this thing with Vince, you better believe I will.”
* * *
Chapter Thirty-eight
Maggie
The other woman in Tom’s life was not who I expected.
I suppose the worst thing I could say about Sage Daniels was that she saw only what she wanted to see. I guess I can’t really blame her for that. I’ve been guilty of the same.
But blame her I did. How else could I defend myself against the way she looked at me, spoke to me, the way she despised me from the moment I took over the helm at Edge? She saw only a wife who slipped into a ready-made space in her husband’s empire. Not a woman who’d finally found a place to dream.
Yes, it could be argued that I came to Edge driven more by a dream than a solid employment history. I didn’t know much about the garment industry, except for what my husband brought home with him. And though Tom’s work at Luxe often kept him long hours at the office, I accepted it. His ambition was one of the few things I really loved about him. If I didn’t find myself inspired by ladies’ wear for the middle-aged set, I was inspired by Tom’s passion for his business. And on those occasions when he came home buoyant with the triumph of bringing in a new retailer or the successful sell-in of a new design, I remembered what I loved about him when we first met. Though Luxe was well under way by the time I entered Tom’s life, I sometimes saw glimpses of the younger man, the one who had come to New York in search of a dream outside the shadow of his successful father. The man who had built an empire from the ground up. A passionate man.
