by M. M. Silva
“I said Mrs. O’Neill might be able to shed some light on the situation.”
“Who?” I frowned.
“Charlie’s widow.”
My stomach dropped. I felt terrible I hadn’t wondered about Charlie O’Neill’s life or family. I’d been so focused on Jeff and the house I hadn’t thought of someone who was undoubtedly going through terrible pain right now.
“You’re right, Gus. Thanks for the advice. I should have already thought of that.” I headed out the door, enveloped in thoughts of pirate ships and widows and dead bodies.
CHAPTER 5
I WAS BARELY AT JEFF’S HOUSE FIFTEEN MINUTES WHEN Kayla’s car tore down the lane, kicking up dirt and sand behind her on the twists and turns to the house. She even managed to fish-tail the vehicle before coming to a stop and then had to wait for the swirling dust to subside before getting out. Tropical Storm Kayla had arrived.
I turned to let the men know the newest houseguest had arrived. Doob bounced from foot to foot, looking past me out the window and craning his neck so hard I thought it might snap off. If it hadn’t been for Jeff’s new furniture, Doob would have jumped up and down on the couch, screaming in glee.
“Please don’t wet yourself,” I said dryly.
“Too late,” Doob replied and waggled his brows.
“My goodness, this girl must be something else to get that type of reaction,” Jeff said good-naturedly. “Thank God I bought some real dinnerware earlier.”
“Calm yourselves, gentlemen. If you’re too obvious, she’ll have you rubbing her feet and hand-feeding her grapes within five minutes of crossing the threshold.”
“I’m in!” Doob scampered toward the door. “I’m going to go help with her bags.”
Jeff and I waited in the doorway while Kayla saddled Doob down with various bags and suitcases in all shapes, colors, and sizes. Jeff leaned into me and whispered, “How long is she staying?” Thankfully he had a grin on his face.
“I tried to warn you,” I whispered back and giggled.
“This is fucking gorgeous!” Kayla squealed as she walked up the steps. She looked adorable. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had on huge, round Coach sunglasses. Her ensemble was a chocolate-colored suede jacket, coupled with khaki pants tucked into a pair of knee-length brown leather boots, and a scarf elegantly tangled around her neck. She looked like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. I gave her a huge hug and introduced her to Jeff. She gave him an oh-so-obvious once-over and smiled coquettishly. He turned a million shades of red while Doob waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs like a forgotten hotel valet.
“Shall we move this inside before Doob collapses?” I suggested. He looked at me appreciatively as he hauled Kayla’s belongings up the front steps.
After getting her bags deposited alongside my things in the guest bedroom, we all gathered in the recently-renovated white and chrome kitchen. The stainless steel appliances and chef’s stove, complete with six burners, were intimidating. The room had a presence and made you feel like you better do it justice, should you dare to cook anything. There was a huge island in the middle, with a beautiful black and gray granite countertop, and Jeff had purchased some gorgeous bar stools to surround two sides of it, with a built in wine rack on yet another side.
I glanced at my watch and said, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”
“Break out the booze,” Kayla agreed. “I’ve got something heavy to discuss, and a couple of pops will probably help.”
Odd. My friend was never one to get rattled; she never had heavy things to discuss. She was unflappable, wild and carefree, and threw caution to the wind at every opportunity. And I loved her for that. So this statement, coming from her, concerned me. But I didn’t press.
“First things first,” I said. “Are we eating in tonight? If so, we don’t need to pick a driver, but if we go out—”
“I’d love to fire up this kitchen,” Jeff said, looking around excitedly. “I can do some steaks, chicken and baked potatoes if you guys want to fill in the blanks with a salad and garlic bread. We’ll figure out dessert later. Sound good?”
We all voiced our approval while Kayla leaned toward me and whispered, “And he cooks, too. Holy shit, you’ve hit the jackpot.”
I rolled my eyes. “No jackpot, Kayla. He’s a friend. But I’ve got to say I know something is on your mind because you actually lowered your voice just now.”
She wrinkled her nose. “So?”
“So…that shows tact, a trait you never exhibit. You’re going to need to tell me what’s wrong very soon so I can get my friend back.”
“Well, fuck you too!” she boomed. “Get me something to drink before I shove some tact right up your ass.”
I looked over to see Doob’s massive smile. “Doob, there’s not going to be a catfight, so calm yourself.”
His happy expression crumbled.
I got up and opened the enormous refrigerator. “Okay, please submit your drink orders, and I’ll get us started.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’d made a pitcher of sangria for Kayla, a margarita for myself, and I’d set Doob up with a rum and Coke while Jeff downed some Guinness. Blech. Even looking at that dark beer sends my taste buds into a tizzy. While I mixed drinks, Jeff busied himself with the main course and Kayla threw together a big salad with the healthy food Jeff had purchased the day before. Doob showed off his Iowa-cute by setting the table and putting glasses of water at each of the place settings. He even added slices of lemon to the waters and then started a fire in Jeff’s massive stone fireplace in the middle of the living room. The open floor plan allowed for a view of the crackling flames from the kitchen, and I relaxed, thinking how Jeff’s new place was feeling more like a home every minute.
Dinner was wonderful. Everything from the presentation, to the delicious smells of the food and the fire, to the company was just right. Comfortable. Warm. It was safe to say Jeff did right by his magnificent kitchen. The conversation flowed easily, and while I was the common denominator of the group, the four of us chatted as if we’d all known each other for years.
After polishing off some ice cream and clearing the table, we moved our overfed selves into the living room and each found a cozy spot to stare into the flames. There’s something peaceful and mesmerizing about a fire, and I thought we all might fall asleep in our respective locations without another word.
As my eyes grew heavy, I heard Kayla’s voice from the other end of the couch we were sharing. “I don’t mean to be a buzzkill with this whole Zen scene we’ve got going, but I really need to talk with you about something, Meagan.”
I willed my eyes open and straightened in my chair. “Do you want to go upstairs? If so, you might need to carry me.”
She hitched a shoulder and said, “I dunno. If the guys don’t mind, maybe this is something we could all hash out.”
I looked at Doob, head flopped back on the oversized leather chair and light snores emitting from his wide open mouth. I glanced at Jeff, who looked back at me and shrugged as if to say, why not?
“Well, it looks like Doob is down for the count, but Jeff, if you don’t mind, we’ll stay parked here by the fire. It’s too comfortable to move.”
He nodded. “If it gets way girly, I reserve the right to remove myself from the room,” he said with a grin. But I think he was only half-kidding.
Kayla shook her head. “It’s not girly at all, I promise.” When she didn’t elaborate after the promise, I’d had enough.
“All right girlfriend, spit it out. I can’t deal with you being morose and cryptic. It goes against nature. It breaks laws of the universe. It’s counterclockwise, it’s—”
“Meagan, shut the fuck up.”
Call me crazy, but that somehow made me feel better. I watched as Kayla took a swig of her sangria and a deep breath.
“So here’s the deal. Jeff, I bored you with my life story earlier, so you both know I opened my own insurance company
after quitting my bullshit job last spring.”
We nodded.
“Well, early on when I worked at that other shit-hole, there was an insurance claim that came in on a four-year-old girl.” Kayla took another sip of her drink, and I noticed her hand shook, the ice cubes tinkling against the glass in the silence of the room. I glanced at Jeff, who studied her closely. We both stayed silent and waited for her to go on.
“They say cops and detectives—you’ll probably understand this, Meagan—always have a case in their careers that never leaves them. That’s what this claim was like for me.
“This beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl drowned in her family’s pool…” Her voice caught, and I actually thought my strong-willed, loud-mouthed, bigger-than-life friend was going to lose it. But she didn’t. She kept talking. “…and the mother had a $250,000 life insurance policy on the sweet thing.”
She stopped and stared down into her sangria, but she didn’t take a drink. It didn’t feel like she was done with her story, but it also didn’t seem like she planned to say anything more.
Sliding down the couch, I put my hand on her free one. “I’m sorry,” I murmured, hoping to prompt her back into story-telling mode.
“That’s a horrible tragedy,” Jeff added from his couch.
She nodded. “It was terrible. And I’m afraid it’s going to happen again. At least he’s going to try to do it again.”
Hunh?
It was completely out of character, but I managed to remain quiet for a few moments. I glanced over at Jeff, and he slowly hitched a shoulder and tilted his head as if to say he didn’t know what she meant, either.
“Okay sweetie, you’re going to have to fill in a few blanks. You’re clearly upset, and I want to help. But you’ve got to tell me why you think something like this will happen again, and who is the he you’re referring to?”
She shook her head in disgust as she continued to gaze into her drink. “He is the asshole who was engaged to the lady who filed the claim. He is the one who convinced her to take a $250,000 life insurance policy out on her little girl. And…” Kayla’s voice cracked, and I squeezed her hand. She suddenly tossed her head in the air, as if to proclaim that tears were not going to get the better of her. “…he was the one who found little Cassie in the pool at three o’clock in the morning.”
Something twisted in my gut. “Kayla, what are you saying?”
She gave me a hard look. “What I’m saying is that fucking asshole had something to do with Cassie’s death, probably everything to do with her death.”
I studied her intently. “Okay, that’s some heavy stuff, my friend. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but that’s a big accusation. Wasn’t there an investigation?”
“There was. They determined Cassie got up by herself in the middle of the night, got herself outside through a locked door, got herself through the locked fence that surrounded the pool, and drowned.”
I sighed. “Okay. So if that’s what the investigation determined, why do you think otherwise?”
“Because number one, he was fucking creepy when they came into our office—”
“You can’t suspect someone based on the creepy factor,” I interrupted.
She held up a finger. “And, number two, he and his new girlfriend strolled into my agency two days ago to inquire about life insurance for her three-year-old-son.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Sorry?”
“Yep. I about shit.”
“Well obviously he and Cassie’s mom didn’t work out?”
“Evidently. Because of the engagement, I’m sure he thought he’d be in on a big payday, but I heard Cassie’s mom packed up and left town after the drowning. And she left his sorry ass behind.”
“So he just moved on to the next single mom?”
“They met online,” she said. “I’m sure the asshole purposely scrolled through all the eligible females, looking for one with a kid. Most jerks run from single moms. This guy is preying on them.”
“Poor lady,” Jeff said sympathetically.
“This is a little off-topic, but you saying they met online made me think of something. Don’t most people buy insurance online nowadays?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Some do, some don’t. Depending on the company they eventually go through, they might need to see an agent because of the amount of money involved. Other times there are underwriting factors where an in-person visit makes the most sense. It can help with the rates.”
I nodded and steered her back to the story. “So they walked into your office, you managed to keep your composure, then what?”
“Okay, so they were supposedly inquiring about insurance on both the mom and son, but I knew what he was up to. The asshole did most of the talking and said his girlfriend wanted to provide for her son if something ever happened to her, and he went on to talk about how it might make sense to buy insurance on the kid since life insurance on children is inexpensive. He was trying to not act too pushy, but I could see through his bullshit. The woman was completely swept up in his nonsense, and all I wanted to do was scream for her to get the fuck away from him as quickly as possible.”
“What did you do?” Jeff asked, beating me to the punch.
She sighed. “I tried to take it all in stride and not act too rattled. I took their information down and said it would take me a couple of days to research some quotes and I’d let them know what I’d come up with.”
I cocked my head. “So the guy obviously didn’t recognize you?”
She shook her head quickly. “Nope. Remember when I went through the way-too-professional phase when I first started at the other insurance place?”
I thought for a second and then laughed. “I do. You darkened and straightened your hair, and you plastered it back in a ponytail every day. I remember it looked like it was pulling your skin off. Then you did the square, black Superman glasses, too.”
She smiled a little bit. “Yeah, I looked like a fucking priss, but I was trying to develop a certain image.”
I looked at her free-flowing, wild, long, curly blonde hair and her glasses-less face and thought she was stunning. “I like you better this way. The other look was so not you.”
“You look great,” Jeff blurted, and both Kayla’s and my head snapped simultaneously to look over at him. He shrunk inward and seemed surprised at his own outburst. “Just saying,” he added quietly and did that slow shoulder shrug again.
Kayla smiled demurely and said, “Thanks. But this isn’t about me. I just look different than I did back then, and I wasn’t the lead broker on the account on that other claim. I was the assistant. Anyway, the asshole definitely doesn’t remember me.”
“Okay. What’s next?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I’m going to stop him. Whatever it takes.” Kayla’s face had a hard edge I’d never seen before.
“Can’t you go to the cops?” I asked.
She gave me a look. “Go to the cops with what, Meagan? They need proof. The other claim was investigated, and we paid. Case closed. But I had a creepy feeling then, and everything I’ve ever thought about that fucking scumbag was confirmed when he walked into my office the other day. I have nothing to go on except my gut, but I would stake my life I’m right about this guy.” She paused for a moment and said, “I hope it doesn’t come to that, though.”
The fire popped loudly, startling me and making me flinch. “I can see you’re serious, Kayla. And if you’re right about this guy, I promise I’ll help. We just need to use our heads.”
Jeff nodded. “I’ll second that. If he’s as bad a dude as you think, you don’t want to play in that league. There’s a right and wrong way to approach this. Just promise me you’ll both be careful.”
I suddenly heard Doob chuckling, and his head lolled down from the back of the chair. “Kayla and Meagan, careful? Jeff, you’ve got a lot to learn, my friend.”
CHAPTER 6
Tuesday, November 5th
T
HE NEXT MORNING I WOKE WITH KAYLA SPOONED UP BEHIND ME, and it was somewhat disconcerting. I slowly reached for the arm she had draped over my waist, and I tried to disentangle myself without waking her. No such luck.
“It’s fucking freezing in here!” Kayla grumbled and burrowed under the covers. “Get one of those men or Sampson up here immediately. Hell, get all three of them up here; I need some friggin’ body heat.”
Something told me all three of them were up for the job, but logic won out. “How about I try to find the thermostat instead? And in the meantime, why don’t you put some clothes on? You’re sleeping in dental floss.”
“I don’t sleep in burlap sacks like you, Meagan. My stuff is sexy.”
“Well, sexy equals cold.” I found the thermostat, and it was set at sixty-nine degrees, which I promptly shared with Kayla.
“Oooh, I like that number,” Kayla said with a meow in her voice. “Go get that Jeff up here, and I’ll get this room up to eighty in no time.”
I yanked a black Iowa Hawkeye sweatshirt out of my suitcase—a gift from Doob—and threw it at her. “Calm yourself, Horny Hornster, you’re not disrupting this house. We’ve got work to do today.”
Kayla groaned. “Always working, no wonder you never get laid. Are you going to make breakfast?”
“Lovely segue,” I replied.
Both Doob and Kayla were bottomless pits when it came to eating, and I couldn’t fathom how they both stayed so skinny. “This morning we’re meeting a guy for breakfast. I met him in town yesterday, and I think he might help solve the dead body issue.”
Kayla stretched her arms and yawned. “Is he hot?”
Good grief. “He’s probably in his late sixties or early seventies, and he’s a sweet man, Kayla. Try not to terrorize him, please. I already warned him about your foul mouth.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I need aspirin and a lot of water. How much did we drink last night?”
