Jil stepped back. “Is that what you think? Is that how you feel about us?”
Jess burst into tears. “No. Yes. I don’t know. Some days. Only when I remember how badly things ended.” She sat down on the beach chair, her head in her hands.
Jil sat down slowly beside her. “You know it takes two people to make a marriage dysfunctional, right?”
“Well, not really. I mean, I’m the one who’s gay.”
Jil looked at her. “Right. But he’s the one who married a lesbian.”
“That’s not his fault.”
“And it’s not yours either.”
Jess laid her head on Jil’s shoulder. “I still feel guilty.”
They looked out over the ocean, at the waves that were breaking on the white sand.
“I wish you were staying.”
Jess sighed. “I do too. But I have to do this for him. I have to see that he’s taken care of. You’ll understand when you’re married.”
Jil stood up. “I kind of thought I was married,” she said softly. She left Jess to finish her coffee and went back inside. Sitting at the table, she spread out her files, then grabbed her notebook and began to scribble everything she could remember from the woman’s story she had heard yesterday at the airport. Reading it back, she wondered what she was even doing here.
She should just go home with Jess.
Clearly, that whale was a known problem.
She scrolled through the newspaper columns and articles, tracing Tsunami back to when she was a pup. There was even a record of her on the internet, and she stared at it before getting an idea.
She grabbed a roll of paper and commandeered one of the kitchen walls to begin making herself a giant white board. She drew on a timeline and plotted Tsunami’s life from the time she was a pup up to the present moment, where she swam around in a holding tank at the St. Emeline Sea Aquarium.
Next, she added the incidents Tsunami had been involved in, at which tanks, and with which people…
A knock on the door interrupted her. She threw on a wrap and peeked out the peephole to find Ramone standing on her threshold.
“Good morning!” He beamed when she opened the door. “Ready for your day? We’re going to have a whale of a time.”
Beside him, Emilio giggled.
Jil rolled her eyes.
He grinned back.
Nerds—both of them.
“I’ve brought you ladies some fresh pastry. I’ll be taking you to the sea aquarium. Consider me your chauffeur.”
“I’m helping,” Emilio said.
“But only for the drive,” Ramone said sternly. “Right? Then you go with Abuela.”
Emilio frowned. “Whatever,” he muttered.
Jess appeared from the balcony. “Actually, I’ll be heading to the airport.”
Ramone’s face fell. “So soon? You just got here.”
“Bad news from home,” Jil said tightly. “She’s on the first plane out.”
“Well, allow me to take you,” Ramone said. He set the pastries on the hall table.
“That’s okay—” Jil started to say, just as Jess said, “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
She stared at Jess.
“I’ll take you to the airport, Jess.”
“You’re busy, Jil. You came here to do a job, and from the sounds of it, you’ve got your work cut out for you. You’d better get started.”
She headed into the bedroom and Ramone gave Jil a look.
“Hey! Does that mean we’re going to the airport? Can we go in? Can we get some McDonald’s? Please?”
Ramone rolled his eyes. “You just had two croissants.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know I could get a hash brown.”
“You’ve got a hollow leg, I see,” Jil said.
Emi looked at her askance. “What?”
Ramone guffawed. “Hollow leg? I love it. You stick with me, I’ll learn a lot.”
“Well, you can add it to your nerd collection. It means you have a lot of storage space for food,” she told Emi.
He nodded, thinking.
Another moment later, Jess appeared, rolling her suitcase behind her. She crossed the short distance between them and gave Jil a quick peck on the cheek.
“See you when you get home.”
Ramone looked back at her, concern on his face, as he dragged Jess’s suitcase out the door. “I’ll send someone else to get you, Jil. Rebecca’s expecting you in a few minutes.”
Jess looked at her, as if to say see, I told you so.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jil said. “I can get there on my own.”
“Are you sure? It’s no problem.”
“I’m sure. I could do with the exercise.”
“Just head straight down to the top of this road and look for the giant whale up on a pole.”
“Got it.”
With an attempt at a smile, Ramone took Jess out to the car, Emi chattering beside him about the different types of breakfast sandwiches, and if he was too young to try coffee.
The door closed and Jil sank into a chair. She heard the Jeep roar out of the driveway and felt the thud of loneliness in the pit of her stomach.
She was by herself on a tropical vacation.
Great.
Her gaze landed on the bag Ramone had dropped on the front hall table and she got up to take out a pain au chocolat.
Why not?
She set a croissant on a plate and tinkered with the cappuccino machine until it began sputtering and foaming. She wondered how long it would take Jess to get home.
Chapter Six
The WestJet plane sat on the tarmac, and Jess stared at it anxiously. She checked her watch. Still 10:35. Time hadn’t even inched forward a minute. Passengers began trickling out the chute and past the glass walls, dragging carry-ons and carrying their shoes while flip-flopping their way across the airport carpet.
Her flight didn’t leave for another hour. What could possibly take an hour? Luggage, passed hand to hand, made its way into the articulated luggage vehicles. What were those called? Mitch would know.
Jil would know too.
Suddenly, she wished Jil was sitting beside her, holding her hand.
That was impossible for so many reasons, and the sadness of it brought new tears to her eyes.
Mitch was dying. Dying.
But he’d been gone for years. Why was it a sudden shock?
Grief for the life they’d never have? The love they’d never share or had never shared? The morning she’d last seen him, which had played over and over in her mind for the last few years while he’d lain there, wasting away, the breathing machine ventilating him, in, out, in, out.
Now that memory would be replaced by his funeral.
There were no happy memories left.
Her phone bleeped and she looked down.
Text me when you board. And when you land. And when you’re home. <3 J
She breathed out. She hated the way she and Jil had left things, but she couldn’t let her come home. It wasn’t fair to anybody. She texted back. Still waiting. Plane is here.
You’re watching them load the baggage carts?
She smiled. How’d you guess?
They’ll vacuum next and toss out the trash, then the plane’s all yours. Safe flight. Try not to worry. I’m heading into the aquarium. TTYL.
Easier said than done, obviously.
She took her carry-on and headed for the bathroom. One last stop in a non-moving stall before negotiating the plane aisle. She hadn’t had anything to drink this morning for just that reason, but still, it was five hours to Toronto and then another flight back to Rockford.
She slowly latched the door and sat on the toilet. What a fucking nightmare. Two overseas flights in forty-eight hours. Her body felt like it was being burned at the edges and crushed simultaneously.
The medication barely took the edge off.
Exacerbation was stress-related, of course, but it was hard to remember that when you wer
e looking for an accessible stall with a tall toilet because you couldn’t squat over a regular height one. At thirty-five years old.
She put her head in her hands and closed her eyes for a second.
A sound like a bike stopping outside the stall made her glance up.
She hurried to put herself together and rushed out of the stall, her bag behind her. A young woman in a racing wheelchair glared as Jess walked past.
But Jess refused to shoot her an apologetic look, as she normally would. She just rolled her eyes and headed for the sink.
“Asshole,” the woman in the chair muttered.
“Excuse me?” Jess whirled around.
Normally, she’d ignore it. She’d say nothing; she’d accept that she didn’t look at all disabled and thank God that she could still walk around on her own two feet.
“There’re seventeen other stalls,” said the young woman. Her eyebrow ring glinted as she glared.
“Yeah? Well, I need that one too, okay? You’re not the only one with a disability.”
The woman’s eyebrows raised, carrying the glinting eyebrow ring toward her bangs, cut in a stylish rough crop. She couldn’t be more than nineteen, twenty years old. One of Jess’s students, in another time and place.
“Sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t…it’s just that so many people…I thought—”
Jess let out a breath. “Yeah, I know. I know what it looks like. But I’m not using it for kicks and giggles, believe me.”
She washed her hands and yanked open the door. As she exited, pulling her bag over the lip of the carpet, one of the carry-on wheels twisted. She stumbled, the bag suddenly at an awkward angle, no longer rolling.
“Fantastic,” she muttered.
“This is the advanced boarding call for flight five-five-eight to Toronto. All passengers who need extra assistance should now make their way to the desk.”
She made her way to the line, dragging the bag, which was far too heavy to be carried. She reached down for her passport.
Which was not in her purse.
She opened her carry-on and rooted around. Not there either.
Because she’d left it on the counter of the bathroom along with her boarding pass.
“Final call for advanced boarding for flight five-five-eight.”
She spun around and almost collided with the footrest of a wheelchair, half-falling in the lap of the woman from the bathroom. She braced her hand on the woman’s shoulder so she didn’t land on top of her, and in an awkward, fumbling tangle of hands and arms, the woman helped her back to standing.
“Sorry,” Jess muttered. “I’m not going to stop making an ass out of myself with you today.”
“No worries. Apparently, I was also an ass. Here.” She held out Jess’s passport. “You left this.”
Jess shook her head. “An ass and an idiot.” She smiled ruefully.
“And that was just in the bathroom.”
In spite of the knot in her stomach, Jess actually laughed. “I’m Jessica.”
“I know. I read your passport. I’m Georgette.”
“Really?”
She looked at Jess quizzically. “Yeah. Why?”
“Unusual name.”
“It was my grandmother’s.”
“I’m a principal. And I’ve never taught a Georgette. That really doesn’t happen very often.”
“Well, congratulations on having met one. I’m sure it was a fabulous experience for you.” She grinned and Jess shook her head. Together they joined the end of the line of passengers traveling with small children.
“I’ve got to wait here,” Georgette said when they reached the door of the plane. “This is the part where they rob me of my wheelchair and give me that ridiculous aisle-wheelbarrow.”
Jess laughed. She’d seen one before.
“Sorry.”
Georgette shrugged. “Life.”
Jess waved and went on without her.
As she settled into her middle seat, her carry-on shoved precariously into the overhead bin, Jess felt tendrils of anxiety clenching around her until she felt like she wanted to scream. Another tin box. Another excruciating flight. Tears welled up in her eyes. Why was this happening to her?
Had she just been too busy working to notice it before, or had it been this bad for a long time?
Three rows behind her, a mother and her two kids squeezed into their seats, and an iPad began jangling loudly. The next minute, the aisle-wheelbarrow arrived next to her and Georgette waved.
“Ha.”
Jess smiled. “Really? You’re with me?”
“Guess they stick the crips together, eh?” She laughed. “Good luck to whoever wants that window seat.”
The flight attendant helped Georgette into her seat.
“Listen,” Georgette said to her. “Is it a full flight?”
“Almost. Not quite.”
“Okay, so is it possible that we could have this extra seat, then? Because if you’re going to have to move me every time one of them wants out…”
The flight attendant made a face. “Right. Point taken. I’ll see what I can do.”
Georgette winked. “There you go. Move over and make yourself comfy.”
Jess sighed, then moved over to the window and stretched her legs out over the middle seat.
“Just like a recliner,” Georgette said.
“I’ll take it.”
Georgette opened her bag and took out a pair of earphones, leaning back in her seat as the rest of the passengers filed in.
Chapter Seven
The sun, high over her head, reminded Jil of why the hell she’d gotten out of icy, gray Rockland. She walked up the ramp and through the open gate, looking around for someone in a uniform. It was barely a mile walk, and after applying a good squirt of sunscreen and jamming on a baseball hat, she felt confident enough to jog to the place.
After all, with its blazing billboards and life-sized shark statues, the sea aquarium was probably visible from outer space.
Keeping the sign in sight, she ran with one ear bud in, stopping three times to drink water. By the time she got there, she was baking hot and had to pee. Shit, the sun was hot down here.
Jil strode out to the outdoor concrete sidewalk, spotting two trainers sitting on the boardwalk, making hand gestures to the dolphins and throwing fish.
She stood on the rampart and waved until one waved back uncertainly. She motioned that she’d like to come down, and the tall blond guy sprang up and loped over to her.
“Can I help you?”
“Hello, I’m Jil Kidd.”
“Hi.” He still looked uncertain.
“I’m looking for Rebecca Mason.”
“Oh.” He opened the gate and jogged up the stairs, then hopped the rampart and struck off for the entrance of the building she’d just come from.
“She’s probably in the basement observing Tsunami.”
Jil followed him through the doors and down the stairs to a lower observatory.
“Rebecca?”
“In here.”
In the semi-darkness, Jil spotted a tall woman with dark auburn hair sitting on a stone bench. She faced toward a wall of safety glass, swaying gently to the classical music that played over the loudspeaker. An orca swam over to the far side of the tank, plunging down to the depths of the tank and back up.
Rebecca turned around and lifted her chin in greeting, then stood up slowly and approached Jil.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said in a low voice, nearly whispering.
She guided Jil away from the observation glass and closer to the doorway. Jil wondered why they were whispering.
“Whales have very sensitive systems,” Rebecca said, as if in answer to her question. “That’s why we keep it dark down here. It deters people from quick movements.”
“Does that also explain the Mozart?” Jil asked.
Rebecca half-smiled. “Good ear.”
Jil thought of Jess’s dinnertime playlists. Maybe she�
�d been educated more than she thought.
“Yes, to answer your question. It’s hard to scream over classical.”
Jil took in the signs posted around the area: Please speak quietly. Do not tap glass.
Rebecca followed her gaze. “We have a guard here when the park is open,” she said. “If a whale got spooked and decided to ram the safety glass, we’d have a real problem.”
“I think you’ve already got a pretty big problem, don’t you?”
Rebecca stiffened beside her, then relaxed when she saw Jil’s face—which she’d purposely kept neutral. “Why don’t we go upstairs?”
“The whale show has been postponed indefinitely since the incident,” Rebecca said, leading her up the concrete stairs, splashed with water, and into another wing. They traveled down a carpeted hallway to a back office.
“How many trainers do you have here?” Jil asked as they rounded the corner.
“Eight. Well, seven.” She stopped at the door. “Seven now.”
Jil took out her notebook and jotted that down. “I’d like to interview them.”
“Of course. How long are you here for?”
“Just a week, if all goes well.”
“Goes well…” Rebecca muttered. “I wonder what that would look like, exactly.”
“Sorry,” Jil said. “Bad choice of words, maybe.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I am hoping for a positive outcome here.”
“What are you thinking happened?” Jil knew she probably shouldn’t ask, as her job was to find out the truth, not what a client wanted to hear, but an owner of a facility paying her to find out if something wasn’t an accident was highly unusual. Murder was far more damaging a problem to reconcile with the public than an accident.
“I don’t believe Tsunami killed anyone,” Rebecca said. “But if she did, I have no idea what I’d do. I can’t afford to keep a whale that can’t be trained, and nobody would buy her after this. My first responsibility is to my staff. Then my animals.”
“Why did you purchase her in the first place if you knew she’d already rammed a trainer?”
Rebecca stopped and turned, surprised.
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