Innis Harbor

by Patricia Evans Cox

  Chris got Skye settled and opened the passenger door for Loch.

  Skye leaned up to Loch’s seat with a raised eyebrow. “I think I might have forgotten what a gentleman is after all these years in the city.”

  Chris made a stop at the market in town for Skye to get what she needed for dinner, and as they climbed back in with their grocery bags, Skye handed him an enormous strip of the homemade beef jerky the market kept by the register in the summer. He winked at her, folded the length of it easily into his mouth, and fired up the truck.

  A few minutes later, they pulled up to the house Amir had loaned them, and Chris carried in their bags before he handed them the key.

  “If y’all have any trouble with anything, just give me a call.” He leaned into the door and looked toward the kitchen. “Walter at the hardware store has my number, but I manage some of the Farzaneh properties, so I think it may even be on the fridge in there if you need it.”

  As his truck roared to life again and disappeared down the road, Skye grabbed the beer out of the grocery bag on the way to the deck. The house was a chalet-style cabin built on a rocky cliff with a wide redwood deck that extended out over the water, making it look like it was hovering above the sea. They sank down into the green cedar lounge chairs and popped the top off the bottles with the house key Chris had given them, listening to the waves break below the deck.

  “So, tell me.”

  Skye looked at Loch as the wind picked up the edges of her hair and brushed them against her face.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Tell me what’s going through your head.” Skye shifted in her chair to face Loch. “I know when you’re worried about something.”

  “I don’t know.” Loch unzipped her hoodie and leaned back in the chair to let the sun fall across her face. “I know it’s probably nothing, but I just don’t…” Her voice trailed off, and she stared over the deck railing.

  “You just don’t have a good feeling about this?”

  “Yeah,” Loch said. “I don’t.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Loch threw the bottle cap beyond the railing into the white caps below. “Hell no. I want to pretend it’s not happening.”

  “Well, I bet I can take your mind off it.” Skye leaned back in her chair and balled up her jacket behind her neck, her eyes melting closed under the warmth of the sunshine. “I’ve been fucking a girl on my swim team.”

  Loch sat straight up in her chair and shaded her eyes. “Holy shit! How the hell did that happen?”

  Skye looked over at her and smiled. “Well, if you need me to go over the ins and outs of lesbian sex, I guess I have a few minutes.”

  “You know what I mean!” Loch tossed her sunglasses at her. “Who is she?”

  “She’s been on my swim team at Columbia for about a year. I’d noticed her, but we’re in completely different friend circles, so we never talked.”

  “What is she like?”

  “Honestly, that foreman reminds me of her.”

  “So, she has a red beard?” Loch paused, nodding before she continued. “That’s kind of what I was picturing.”

  Skye laughed, tipping her beer up and finishing the last half without taking a breath. “Very funny.”

  She paused, choosing her words carefully, as if they were unfamiliar.

  “It’s hard to describe. She’s just got something about her. She’s black, with these sexy as hell shaved lines in her hair on the sides. She walks like a guy, with broad shoulders and a banging body, doesn’t talk much but sounds like an Alabama senator when she does. She’s just…hot.”

  Loch grabbed her sunglasses and lay back down on the chair. “Jesus. I can’t believe you didn’t lead with this little tidbit like the second you got here.” She paused. “Wait, what happened to the cold oatmeal dude?”

  “I had to cut him loose. I think I was a little too much for him.”

  “Really?” Loch sifted her hand through her hair. “Or was it that he wasn’t enough for you?”

  “I’m starting to think the latter may be true.”

  “So,” Loch said, sliding her sunglasses back on and leaning back in her chair. “How did this happen anyway?”

  “We had a swim meet in Atlanta a few weeks ago, and our flights got messed up, so everyone was stuck there for an extra day. They got us a hotel, but I guess she’s from Georgia, so when I walked out of the meet, she was starting up a black Jeep in the parking lot. We’ve been swimming on the same team for a year, and she’s never said a single word to me, but suddenly, she just leans out the window and says, ‘Get in, I’m gonna take you somewhere.’”

  “And you got in?”

  “Of course.” Skye peered over her sunglasses. “Why would I not get in some random chick’s Jeep and take off? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  Loch laughed and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on.

  “So, I just got in, and she turned up the music…”

  “What was it?”

  “Oh, my god, it was country. Jason Aldean.”

  “Well, don’t tell anybody. We’ll never be able to live in Manhattan again.”

  “Fuck no, I’m not telling anybody!” Skye reached for another beer from the six-pack between them and cracked it open. “Anyway, she drives us out of Atlanta and into some backwoods Georgia town, and I swear, I felt like I was in a country music video. At some point, we got off the real roads and turned down this red dirt road, and we ended up at this gorgeous lake. I guess her friends heard she was going to be in town and just packed up and headed out there to camp for the night.”

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Loch stretched her arms out in the sun, then pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the deck. She settled back onto the lounge chair, face turned toward the sun. “I would never just let some random person drive me out into the boondocks.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, that’s why my life is so much more interesting than yours.”

  “Fair enough.” Loch shook her head, smiling. “Then what happened? Do you even know her name at this point?”

  “Of course,” Skye said, peeling the label off her bottle. “I remembered it from the swim roster. Her name is Hayden. Anyway, we got out there, and there was a big bonfire and tons of trucks with the tailgates down, more coolers than I’ve ever seen in my life, and all her friends treated me like they’d known me forever. I actually had a kick-ass time.”

  “So…what was it like to kiss a girl?”

  “Oh, my god.” Skye paused, turning toward Loch and sliding her sunglasses down her nose. “It was so hot. She offered more than once to take me back to my hotel, but I wanted to stay, so she pulled some sleeping bags out of her truck, and we slept down on the dock under the stars.”

  “And…?”

  “And since then, we’ve spent every night together.” Skye smiled at Loch, shading her eyes with her hand. “Which reminds me, I’ve got to find an apartment and get the hell out of Mom’s house before she asks me one more time if I’m on birth control.”

  Loch clinked her beer bottle to Skye’s and laid back. “Well, welcome to the club, little sis.” She looked over at Skye and opened one eye against the piercing sunlight between them. “But just for the record, I’ve known for years.”

  “Seriously?” Skye took her shirt off and tossed it in Loch’s direction. “And you didn’t think to mention to me that I might want to try dating girls?”

  “Nah.” Loch tossed the shirt onto the deck with hers. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

  They laid back in the chairs for a few minutes and soaked up the sunshine. In Manhattan, summer days were intensely hot, as if the heat bounced off all the concrete and intensified, hovering in an impenetrable layer over the city. But the breeze swept up from the sea in Innis Harbor stirred coolness into the bright summer days and made the nights more crisp than sultry.

  Just as the light was starting to drop back behind the cliffs, they heard a car drive up a
nd shift painfully through several gears before settling on park. Loch pulled her shirt on and tossed Skye hers just as they heard a knock at the door. They walked from the deck back into the house as Loch shot Skye a look.

  “Who even knows we’re here?” she whispered. “It’s not Chris or Amir, they can actually drive.”

  Skye just shrugged and opened the door to a slender, impeccably dressed man with a pile of designer luggage at his feet and a Fendi bag on his shoulder.

  “Graham, you came!” Skye shrieked, wrapping her arms around his neck before he even stepped inside. “I thought you had to do makeup for that runway show in L.A.”

  “I’m sick to death of those shows, honey. After I got your text about coming out here I gave the LA show to my assistant, and this town is the size of my suitcase so it didn’t take long to find you.”

  He dragged his suitcases over the doorstep as if they were stuffed with concrete.

  “It’s worth it to see my favorite supermodel.” He paused, giving Loch a wink as he dropped his Fendi bag on the couch. “And Loch, of course.”

  He pulled Loch into a warm hug, then kissed both her cheeks. “God, girl, you look amazing! Vacation does a body good.” His gaze swept her body, then settled on her face with a concerned grimace. “But those brows are out of control. Thank god I got here when I did.”

  “Don’t even tease me, Graham,” Loch said, rolling her eyes. “I’m getting fat. I’m going to eat myself right out of the shows I’m scheduled for.”

  “Oh, Lord, you’ve gained two pounds and are all the way back up to the triple digits?” Graham fanned himself dramatically and shook his head. “Fuck them, they’re lucky to get you at all, and they know it.”

  He looked around at the house and peered out onto the deck. “Skye said she was headed up here to see you, so I thought I’d come check for myself that you didn’t drop off the face of the earth. Everyone everywhere is talking about it. They all think you’ve been abducted by aliens.” His voice softened then, and he squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry about your aunt. I know you were the closest one to her.”

  Loch, Skye, and Graham eventually settled into the sofas with drinks in hand, catching up on gossip and leisurely downing bottles of Graham’s favorite French rosé that he’d smuggled back in his luggage from his last shoot in Paris. Graham was known as the best makeup artist in the business; Loch had worked with him on various shows and shoots for years, and he’d met Skye several times backstage when she was there with her. Loch and Graham had clicked immediately and remained close over the years.

  “So…let’s see it.” Loch smiled at Graham and peered at his left hand.

  “What? This little thing?” Graham held out his hand and showed Loch a white gold band covered in what looked like Broadway lights. “He did well, didn’t he? I told him I’d better need Ray-Bans to look at it, and he went all out.”

  Graham had recently gotten engaged to his longtime boyfriend, a movie producer, and the wedding was scheduled for the following May.

  “Now the only problem is learning how to dance to his music for the wedding. I love him, but I cannot believe there’s going to be country music at my wedding, for fuck’s sake.” Graham balanced his wine glass on two fingers. “Needless to say, I saved on a videographer. The last thing I need is a record of his crazy Texas family two-stepping around our Manhattan posse.”

  “Graham,” Skye said, nudging him with her foot. “That’s exactly why you need to hire a video guy for every corner, so you can catch that from every angle!”

  Loch laughed and got up to start the grill on the deck; they’d bought steak for dinner at the market, with a huge portobello mushroom for Loch, and after all the wine, she’d actually started to consider eating. She turned to look at Graham over her shoulder on her way out.

  “Is the wedding cake going to be shaped like a cowboy hat?”

  “Hilarious, Battersby,” he said, pelting her with one of the throw pillows from the couch. “You’d better not know something I don’t know!”

  Loch looked the grill over once she got outside, but it was a gas grill, seemingly with no “on” switch, which was confirmed five minutes later when they’d all inspected it and come up with the same conclusion. Darkness fell over the glossy surface of the sea as they stood on the deck, until only the whitecaps were visible. Pelicans glided across the water looking for easy evening prey, and the scent of cold pine drifted in from the evergreens dotted around the cabin. Graham was keeping everyone laughing, but it was all Loch could do not to panic about what was happening with Amir. The worst part was not knowing the whole story, and Loch was trying not to wonder if she might have missed some chapters.

  “Okay,” Skye said, winding her glossy blond hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. “How is it possible that three grown-ass adults can’t figure out how to light a single grill?”

  “Look at me, honey,” Graham said with a dramatic sniff, adjusting the wildly expensive watch on his wrist for emphasis. “Do I look like I’m firing up a grill in the backyard every weekend?”

  “Wait a minute.” Skye headed back into the house and pulled her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. “I have an idea.”

  Loch leaned against the railing, scanning her phone again for a message from Amir. What could possibly be taking so long? It had been five hours since she’d gone to the police station, and Loch’s uneasiness was increasing by the moment.

  Skye convinced Chris to come back to the cabin and look at the grill for them, then invited him to stay for dinner. Afterward, when Graham said he wanted to surprise his new husband by learning to dance to country music at the reception, Chris started a Gary Allan song on his phone and laid it on the table. He stood and offered his hand to Graham, who assumed he was kidding until Chris asked him whether he wanted to learn to lead or follow. Surprisingly, Chris turned out to be a great teacher, and by the end of the night, Graham had learned the steps to a few of the more popular country dances. Of course Skye posted the funniest moments on Instagram Stories before Graham had a chance to stop her, then begged Chris to teach her how to line dance.

  After Chris went home at the end of the evening, all three collapsed on the couch, and Loch checked her phone again, trying to push down the rising feeling of dread getting worse with every passing minute. She poured the last of the rosé into her glass, then looked up when she noticed the room had suddenly fallen silent. Graham and Skye were looking at his phone, and Loch watched Skye’s face pale before she covered her mouth with one hand and slowly handed her the phone with the other.

  It was a post on a celebrity gossip blog, well known in the entertainment industry. Loch read the headline and felt sick, sinking back into her chair as she read it again and noticed that the link for the article had already been retweeted and shared more than two hundred thousand times. At the top of the article was a picture of Loch and Amir, eating lunch by the window in the diner, followed by the headline.

  Loch Battersby has finally reappeared, and it looks like the modeling world’s feminist darling has shacked up with a convicted rapist in Maine. Not such a role model now, are we, my dear?

  Loch’s phone buzzed as she stared at the picture of her and Amir. It was her agent.

  Amir Farzaneh?”

  Amir looked up at the two detectives entering the room with a tape recorder and nodded in their direction. A single lightbulb buzzed overhead where Amir sat at a small brown table, the only furniture in the room. The fake wood trim had curled back from one of the ends, leaving the dirty plywood edge worn smooth by countless nervous hands. They’d put her in the room three hours earlier, and she hadn’t seen anyone since.

  The detectives wore dress pants with long-sleeve button-ups, and each carried a Glock in a holster and a ridiculously shiny badge attached to his belt. The heavier one with combed-over gray hair spoke first.

  “Ms. Farzaneh, this is Detective Carson, and I’m Detective Barton with the Bar Harbor sex crimes division.”


  The words hit Amir in the stomach so hard she had to concentrate to keep from doubling over.

  “Someone needs to tell me what’s going on here.” She slid her hands under the table. “Am I under arrest?”

  “No, not yet, but we need to ask you some questions first.”

  “First?” Amir shook her head to clear it. “What the hell do you think I did?”

  The words came out of her mouth, but they were a waste of breath. She knew the answer. She’d been here before.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Graham slid closer to Loch on the couch and peered at the picture, partially hidden by the glare of the diner window. “Do you have any clue what they’re talking about?”

  Loch wanted to answer him but couldn’t. She concentrated on the feeling of her heartbeat in her neck, uneven and silent. It was the only sound in the room.

  “That’s Amir, isn’t it?” Skye leaned closer and put her hand on Loch’s knee until Loch looked up and nodded. “Do you know what he’s talking about? Did she tell you anything about this?”

  Loch locked gazes with Skye, and a tear rolled down her cheek and fell onto the phone screen before she gathered enough words to speak. “I have no idea. I don’t know anything.”

  “This could be nothing still, remember that,” Skye said, squeezing her hand. “We don’t even know the story yet.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time some dickhead has made up a story to sell to the press.”

  Graham’s words were kind, but Loch looked up just in time to see the look he shot in Skye’s direction.

  Amir waited while the detectives shuffled papers and took their time before they got to the point. “Do you know why we brought you in to answer a few questions today?”

  “No, I don’t.” Amir struggled to keep her voice even. “I thought we covered that already.”