She sipped her wine and rocked.
At five to six, her tablet began to bleep. Quickly, she set down her wine and picked it up.
Jil’s face swam into view. Or rather, her chin.
“Hold the phone away a little,” Jess said.
Jil stretched it out. “Is that better? Fucking technology.”
“Well, at least I can see your smiling face,” Jess said wryly.
“Sorry.”
Jil moved the phone and gave Jess a good view of her left nostril. “How are things going?”
Jess sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Terrible, as expected. You?”
“Well, I was almost killed by a whale today.”
“What?”
“I jest. Sort of.”
“Be careful, would you? I don’t think I can manage the death of two spouses at once.”
Jil pulled the phone away so she was looking right at Jess. “I wish I was there.”
Jess sighed. “I do too. Actually, I wish I was there. I wish I had something to do other than think and stew.”
“Well, I’m happy to send you my research!” Jil said brightly. “The Wi-Fi here is not great.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You take on Myra’s prayer group and I’ll do whatever field research you need.”
“Sounds like a great trade,” Jil said sarcastically. “She’s still not backing down?”
“No. In fact, she’s digging in her heels even more.”
Jil leaned forward, squinting at the swing Jess sat on. “Wait, are you at your house?”
“Yeah. I didn’t feel like being at your place without you.”
“Our place.”
Jess chuckled. “Your place. Where you pay the rent.”
“Our place. Where you buy the groceries. You’ve been back to your place, what? Three nights in the past year?”
Jess shrugged. “Maybe four.”
“You could just put it on the market, you know,” Jil said softly.
Jess’s stomach dropped. What would Myra say about that? Mitch was dying and she was rushing him into his grave by selling the house. But Jil had a point—being here alone wasn’t any better than being at the loft alone. Maybe she should have checked into a hotel.
“I’ve just been waiting. You know, until he actually died. It’s his house too…” her voice trailed off.
“Yeah. I understand.”
But Jess got the feeling she didn’t, really. She wiped her nose and changed the topic. “Hey, I saw Zeus out for a walk today. He gave me a big slobber.”
Jil laughed. “Is he behaving himself?”
“Mostly, apart from an incident with a bathrobe…”
“Oh, wonderful. I’ll expect a big bill in damages when I return.”
“Sorry I can’t go get him. It’s just that the hours at the hospital are long.”
“Don’t worry,” Jil said quickly. “He’s fine. We’ll get him as soon as I get home and then we’ll all go back to our place together.”
“Our place that’s about to get sold?”
Jil sighed. “Don’t remind me.”
After they hung up, Jess swung for a long time, thinking. She would get a good amount of capital from this place. Enough to buy half the loft, if Jil wanted to stay there. Or they could get something else. A single-level, possibly…because she would need it. Soon. Two lesbians and a Great Dane. Maybe a few chickens and an alpaca.
The thought made her smile.
Chapter Nine
Jil followed Rebecca back to the office and sat down as Rebecca set to work on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter while she waited for it to brew.
“I understand if you want to go home for the day. That was a bit freaky, even for me.”
Jil shrugged. “It’s just me and an empty hotel room. I think I might get more done by observing what goes on in here.”
“As long as the place doesn’t go down like the Titanic.”
Rebecca opened a tin and offered Jil a pastry. Macarons.
Why not? High calorie pastries seemed to be the way of life here.
“There’s an amazing bakery up the beach. Probably half the reason I decided to stay on St. Emeline to start with.”
Jil laughed. “I think I had their pain au chocolat this morning.”
Rebecca smiled.
“So what made you decide to take the leap?”
The coffee machine drizzled out the last of the coffee, and Rebecca poured it into mugs. She smiled wanly. “Love.”
“Oh? What happened?”
With a sigh, Rebecca settled back in her chair. “You really want to know?”
“Of course. I’m a PI. I run on coffee and curiosity.”
Rebecca laughed. “Okay, well, there was this girl.”
Jil grinned. “A gay girl or a straight girl?”
“Oh, she was most definitely a gay girl.”
“And?”
“I met her here on a training seminar. We…hit it off.”
“Meaning you U-Hauled?”
“Oh boy, did we ever. I sent home for my stuff and moved in with her. Never went home.”
“And then?”
“Let’s just say it ended badly.”
“Does she still live here?”
“Sure does.” Rebecca smiled tightly. “You? How’s your girlfriend enjoying St. Emeline?”
Jil made a face. “Actually, she’s back in Canada.”
“What? You just got here.”
Jil nodded. “Yup. She had to go home. Family emergency.”
“Too bad.”
“Yeah. Solo tropical vacation. Joy.”
“Shitty.”
“Thanks,” Jil said. “So who has a vendetta against your whale? Or against you?”
Rebecca looked at her quizzically. “Against me? I have no idea. It’s my trainer who was killed.”
“Yes, but your tank that was sabotaged. And your sea aquarium that’s paying the price. Not to mention it’s you that has to handle a potential murder investigation.”
“So you do think it’s possible it wasn’t Tsunami?”
Jil tilted her head. “It’s not my job to have an opinion. You asked me to investigate the possibility and I am. But if the whale didn’t kill that girl, then the next most likely suspect is a person. Which means someone you know.”
Rebecca bit her lip. “Right.”
“And not only someone you know, Rebecca, but someone you see every day.”
“Jesus.”
“Exactly.”
Leonard popped his head in the door. “Police are here.”
“Shit,” she muttered.
Jil peered out the front window.
A group of small white cars, checkered in yellow and blue, pulled into the cul-de-sac, lights on. Max was carrying a bucket of fish past the front door. He spotted the police cars and stopped, then turned back the way he came. She watched him go at a quick pace.
Was he just annoyed with the gendarme interrupting his workday, or was there another reason he was avoiding the police?
Jil turned to follow him, but he disappeared before she could see where he went. She turned around just as the troupe came marching out of the main building, Rebecca leading the way to Tsunami’s temporary tank. A woman with short brown hair marched half a pace behind her. Her cap sat rigidly on her head and was white where the others were blue. Presumably, she was the captain. And by the way she was glowering at Rebecca, it seemed that they knew each other.
“I assume there’s a good reason we still have a whale problem here. Why is this animal not in an enclosure?”
“She was,” Rebecca said tensely. “She tried to break out of it. So we put her in the outdoor pool.”
“Where anyone can just jump the fence and try to pet her, I suppose?” Her accent was heavily laced with French, and Jil had the distinct impression that speaking English was an added annoyance for her.
“I don’t see a whole lot of people here, do you, Inspector?”
&nbs
p; “Perhaps you should just show me to the site. Assuming I’m not going to be attacked and eaten down there.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Come with me, please.”
The inspector beckoned to her deputy, and he followed her out, a camera in hand. They had to shout to be heard over the noise of the industrial vacuum, which had all but finished clearing out the water from the observation deck.
“What makes you think this tank was tampered with?” the inspector said tersely.
“Three bolts popped along one side. That’s almost impossible.”
“Could it not be that the facility is just getting old, Ms. Mason? That this glass, as lovely as it is, was not designed for a five-ton animal to ram its body weight against it?”
Rebecca took a deep breath.
“Obviously, it was not designed for that purpose, Carole. But the possibility was taken into account. It shouldn’t have breeched like this.”
“Maybe you should take it as a divine signal from the universe, Rebecca. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still open. I’d think the insurance payments alone would sink you.”
“We’re still just trying to figure out what happened.”
“What happened is you have a facility that’s falling down and undertrained staff who don’t know enough to stay away from killer whales after hours.”
“I think it’s more than that.”
“You have no evidence!”
“No, you have no evidence because you refuse to look!”
The inspector threw her arms up. “Do you think we have unlimited resources? Money, time, officers? We investigated. The medical report was clear. End of topic. Now, if you want me to open an investigation on vandalism, I will be happy to do that.”
Jil sidled up to the tank to hear better.
“Yes,” Rebecca answered.
“Yes?”
“Yes. Yes I want you to investigate the vandalism.”
“Fine.”
The captain turned and stared at Jil. “I don’t believe we’ve met. New friend of yours, Rebecca?”
Jil smiled tensely. “I’m just visiting.”
The captain looked at her warily. “You’ve picked an interesting time.”
“I’m getting some independent tax advice, if you must know,” Rebecca said.
“Do what you need to do, Rebecca. Spend your money however you like, but let me make it clear: if there is another incident here, we will be citing you with criminal charges.”
Rebecca pulled her aside. “I am trying my best here, Carole.”
“And your best seems to involve keeping this whale at the potential loss of human life. You have a dead trainer being towed around this basin by a murderous killer whale who’s now almost flooded your observation deck. What if someone else had been killed? What other proof do you need?”
“I know you’re looking for a speedy answer here.”
“I’m looking to keep the people on this island safe!”
“Fine. I know. But I have other responsibilities.”
“If it were up to me, this place would be shut down and you would be on the first plane back to Canada.”
Jil winced. Wow.
Rebecca didn’t flinch. Instead, she sighed.
“I’m aware. And yet, I called you.”
“Well, you have my input.”
With that, the inspector turned and marched out, taking her contingent with her.
Rebecca sighed and leaned against the wall. “Well, that was pleasant.”
“Past lover?” Jil guessed.
“How did you know?”
“Nobody but a woman scorned has venom like that.”
Rebecca looked up, over the lagoon.
“Wait. She was the one?”
Rebecca nodded. “It was good for a while, but you know how things go…”
“So that’s what’s clouding her judgment? She’s not over the breakup?”
“Guess she has the right,” Rebecca confessed. “I kinda…slept with someone else.”
“Oh.”
“I’m probably not the world’s most faithful lover.”
Jil didn’t answer. She knew that temptation a little too well.
“She wants me off the island and out of her life. But I can’t just pack up shop as easily as that. Even if she does have the right to be here. This is her home, not mine…”
“Well. I guess it’s yours now too. We’ll just have to see what we can do about keeping it that way.”
Rebecca laid a hand on Jil’s forearm. “Thank you for coming. They’re blind when it comes to this.”
Jil felt a surprising jolt at Rebecca’s touch, but didn’t move her arm.
“You’re right to be suspicious,” she said. “And I intend to find out exactly what happened here.”
Chapter Ten
Jess almost hadn’t left the hospital, but the nurses had insisted she get some rest. Her own health was suffering, and she knew she had to take care or risk making herself worse. But every red light gave her an opportunity to start thinking again. Remembering.
It had been five years and she’d rebuilt her life. Met someone else. She’d never expected to be deluged with these memories that were so physical. Almost like she was standing inside them, watching them play out.
His hand along the back of her neck. Down her shoulder.
The move away from him was almost involuntary. A dip, a twitch, a slight pulling up of her shoulder. Like brushing off a fly landing.
He moved his hand.
“I need you, Jess. I’m dying here.”
He was so close she could feel him against her—hard, impatient.
Tears sprang to her eyes, strangling her voice even more, even if she could have spoken. Even if she could have found words to tell him—to explain this wall, this ever growing layer between them.
She moved away. Picked up the car keys.
Groceries and the bank and school. Her ever-demanding students. Her teachers. Most of the time she was so busy she couldn’t think.
“No. You have to talk to me this time. Stop running away from me.”
He grabbed her wrist and she froze.
She could just jerk him off in the shower and he’d leave her alone.
That’s how it had been for years.
But now…now, she couldn’t bring herself to touch him, even for the sake of peace.
“Please, Jessie.”
She looked away, breathed through the way he held her wrist. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t force him to let her go. Because what would that mean? What would it say if he didn’t?
His breath on her neck shot down her spine as he pressed his nose to the back of her head.
“It’s been months, Jess. God.”
Close to a year, actually. But—
He tensed, and she braced herself for his anger. His frustration with her silence and her withdrawal. With the way she turned away from him and snapped the light off.
Would he ever force her, if it came right down to it?
“What’s happened to us? Do you not love me at all?” His voice broke.
Not what she’d expected. Mitch never broke down.
She didn’t look up to see the tears she knew were glassing his eyes.
His grip on her wrist tightened for a second, and then he let her go.
“What have I done to you to deserve this?”
He shoved away from her and stormed off toward the bathroom.
Slammed the door.
She heard the rustling of magazine pages. The unzipping. The grunts and moans he made no attempt to silence.
She could see it all so clearly—the way his face looked when he made that sound, when he was close to coming and he grabbed her hair or her shoulder and pushed into her.
The way she used to like it because it made her feel powerful. Even if she never came until later, alone, after he’d fallen asleep, when she touched herself.
He’d tried; she had to give him that, in the beginning when they were first
married. She’d never let him go down on her—the thought of it made her cringe—but he’d turn her over and cup her breasts in one hand, slide the other between her legs and touch her gently, then more firmly, harder, until she came, moaning into the pillow.
He used to have the patience for the orgasms that built for half an hour before quietly imploding, yielding to the friction of his fingers in the dark, making her entire body tingle.
When they had time to do it in the morning or on the weekend afternoons. When she wanted to open up to him, wanted to love him like that.
The toilet flushed.
The door opened.
He tucked in his shirt. Shook his head at her as he walked out the door.
She took a deep breath, the look on his face making it hard to swallow. The sound of him coming still gave her a shiver in the pit of her stomach—the primal groan, the shuddering breath and gasp.
But the thought of him touching her made her want to cry.
For a moment after the door closed, she felt like his hand was on her stomach, twisting her. She didn’t even feel the tears starting, but suddenly she was sobbing. Sitting on the kitchen floor, back to the cupboards, tears splashing onto her chest, hot and furious.
What had happened to them? Why?
Was it just that she was tired? Or not interested? Or did she really not love him anymore?
She sat longer than she should have. Long enough that she’d sit in traffic an extra twenty minutes, and wouldn’t have time to stop for a latte, but Mitch’s face as he walked through the door… The way he didn’t stop to kiss her, even though he always stopped—always. Even if they’d been fighting. Even if she wanted to hit him and he knew it.
He always stopped to kiss her.
The new teacher orientation and dinner kept her late, and by the time she got in past ten, Mitch was already asleep. She picked up his orange hunting vest that lay on the floor where it had dropped off the side of the couch and replaced it on top of his bag. Mitch and the guys would be gone all weekend, and she was equal parts relieved to have the house to herself and guilt ridden for feeling that way.
Forty-eight hours to garden and go on nature hikes. Feel the grass, smell the changing leaves. The thought of strolling alone up the stone trail behind her house physically relaxed her. She felt the muscles in her back unclench. Alone. Peaceful. Without the weight of this hand in her hand that was growing increasingly heavy and unfamiliar.
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