by Bria Marche
“I could only hope. Anyway, what if I gathered my things tonight? I sort of liked living on South Battery.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Let’s go.”
***
The facade was dark when they finally returned to Melrose Mansion. Only the street lamps along the sidewalk next to the park illuminated the opulent home.
“Either everyone is tucked away for the night, or they’re out back,” Abby said as they crossed through the gate.
They entered the darkened house. Erik dropped his necessities in the foyer, at the foot of the staircase. He said he would get the rest of his things out of the van tomorrow. They turned toward the voices echoing down the hallway, coming from beyond the kitchen. Abby smiled and led the way, holding Erik’s hand. The kitchen light was on, but the group sat outside on the patio, under the twinkling lights strung through the pergola.
“Hey, guys, you’re still up? It’s after eleven o’clock. Look who I found at The Fig Tree.”
Everyone around the table laughed, and Charles motioned for Abby and Erik to join them.
“Pretty swanky place, The Fig Tree. Nice job, dude,” Adam said.
“So what’s the deal?” Mel asked. Her eyes sparkled.
“The deal is I have to live up to my bartering agreement with Erik. I still owe him two months’ room and board, except I’m going to rent out his room and Brandon’s.”
“That, my dear girl, is a smart business move. Speaking of moving, I’m off to bed. Good night everyone, and welcome back, Erik,” Betsy said before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Everyone else followed suit in calling it a night, leaving Erik and Abby sitting outside alone.
“You did a wonderful job out here. Look how beautiful this yard is at night.”
“It is nice, isn’t it? Are you ready for bed, Abby?”
“I’ve been ready for two weeks.”
They laughed together at her comment, turned off the patio lights, and went to Abby’s third-floor bedroom to get reacquainted. Together, in Abby’s king-sized bed, they made love for the second time with even more passion than the first. That night was a new beginning for both of them. Abby had a second chance at love.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Erik had already left for work, and Abby was on cloud nine. Life was good. She felt it and trusted in it. After her shower, she joined everyone downstairs for breakfast. Questions shot at her from both ends of the kitchen table.
“Geez, guys, slow down. I need my coffee before I get interrogated.”
“Coming right up.” Betsy jumped off her chair and filled a mug with the rich brew for Abby.
“Thanks, Betsy,” Abby said after taking a sip of coffee. “Okay, we’re officially a couple. Would that be again or the first time?”
“I think it’s the first time. Before, you were just practicing.” Mel smirked.
“Well, in my opinion, there’s nobody that deserves happiness more than you and Erik. I’m really excited for you, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Lucille. I’m pretty excited, too.”
A phone call came while Abby was helping Betsy clean up the kitchen. Everyone else left for the day.
“Weird. It’s only eight o’clock. I wonder who’s calling this early.” Abby dried her hands and looked at the ringing phone. “It’s Attorney Lewis,” she told Betsy, and then she answered, “Hello, Abby speaking.”
“Hello, Abigail. I’m sorry to be calling this early, but I’m sure you’ll be delighted with the news I have. The claim we filed against Mr. Hanson’s personal car insurance was accepted for the full amount. A check for three hundred thousand dollars is being processed as we speak.”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe it. And it’s only against the insurance company, right? There’s nothing that’s been taken from his family?”
“That is correct, dear. The check should arrive by courier tomorrow. I’ll have one of my company checks cut for you for two thirds of the total. You can pick it up on Thursday.”
“Thank you so much, Attorney Lewis. Wow… things are starting to turn around for me. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
Abby turned to her friend to share the good news. “Betsy, the settlement went through! I’m going to get two hundred thousand dollars from Mr. Hanson’s car insurance company. With that and the money for my mom’s car, I’ll have close to two hundred fifty thousand dollars in the bank in a few days. That makes me feel a whole lot better. You know, a friend of mine told me something after the Remy fiasco that has stuck with me during these hard months.”
“What’s that?” Betsy carried two fresh cups of coffee to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat.
“He said, ‘The world has a way of righting itself, and I hope everything eventually turns out right for you.’ I really believe that is going to happen. I don’t know when exactly, but it’s off to a nice start.”
“He sounds like a smart man and a good friend.”
***
Five days of searching the waters around St. Croix produced nothing. The Coast Guard, catamaran crews taking tourists out for the day, and even the ferry captains kept a close watch on the ocean and beaches, but nobody found a trace of Remy Bellavance. His speedboat, Abby’s Folly, had been sighted, floating out in open water a few days back. Nobody was onboard, but plenty of booze bottles lay scattered about. No distress calls had been documented coming in to the Coast Guard or the St. Croix police department from that boat. Remy was gone, disappeared again into thin air. The boat was taken to Green Cay Marina where it still sat with nobody to claim it.
John called Abby to tell her the bad news, since there were no sightings of Remy anywhere on any of the islands. Remy was considered missing and lost at sea.
“Hi, Abs, It’s John.” He told her he was at the bar at Magens Bay, and she pictured him looking out over the turquoise water while drinking his cup of coffee.
“Hey, dude. Where’s the latest Remy Bellavance sighting? Did he buy a helicopter now?” she asked jokingly.
“Abby, I have something serious to tell you. Are you sitting down?”
“Well, no… should I be? What’s wrong?”
“It isn’t my place to call you, but you’re my friend, and I wanted to give you a heads-up. You might be getting a phone call from the police in St. Croix.”
“What for?” Abby sat on the veranda, her hands already trembling. Whatever happened was bad. She could tell by the tone of John’s voice.
“Remy went missing. It’s been five days of searching the water and beaches around all the islands. His speedboat was found abandoned out in open water. A lot of empty booze bottles were lying on the floor of the boat, but no Remy. Everybody knows him, so word would have come in if he was sighted anywhere. The Coast Guard is considering him dead. They’ve given up the search. Nobody knows how long his boat was floating out there, but after five days of looking, the search went from a rescue to a recovery mission, then it was canceled altogether. The boat wasn’t disabled, so the Coast Guard took it to Green Cay Marina. It’s sitting in a slip there now, waiting for someone to claim it. Abby, it’s your boat. It’s your money. You need to come down here and take back what is rightfully yours. Fly into St. Croix. I’ll meet you there and help you out with the boat and the legalities.”
Silence filled the other end of the phone line. Abby needed a minute to process the information before she was able to speak. Her voice cracked as she responded, “You know I never wanted harm to come to him. I thought he was a horrible person who did me wrong, but this?”
“Abby, it’s the world’s way of balancing good and bad. You know it’s true. Do you want to know what Remy named his boat?”
“Does it matter?”
“It does if it will help ease your pain. He named it Abby’s Folly. That’s downright mean, Abs. Don’t feel too bad about anything. Karma comes in good and bad forms. Remy’s time was up. He was way overdue for some bad luck. Let me know when to expect you. I’ll help you with everythin
g I can.”
Abby went upstairs to the widow’s walk for some solitude. She felt the need to be close to the ocean, to see the bigger picture, something larger than everyday life. She had to be alone to think. After an hour of soul searching and insight, she went downstairs to the library and bought an airline ticket to St. Croix.
***
Over dinner, Abby explained to everyone the news she had received earlier. Condolences were given, even though Abby didn’t feel they should be directed toward her. I guess legally I am still his wife, and they don’t know what else to say. She explained her plans for the next week or so and said she was leaving first thing in the morning to tie up loose ends, find out if Remy’s family had been notified, and talk to the local police. John would help her with everything, especially trying to track her money. When all was said and done, after the house on Magens Bay was sold—and Remy took that money, too—he still had nearly five million dollars in assets and cash left.
Five a.m. came early. Abby’s flight to St. Croix was scheduled to leave at seven o’clock with a short connection in Miami. John promised to meet her at the marina at noon. They’d have lunch, check out the boat and its contents, then find out how Abby could legally claim it. John told her to bring all the documentation she had from the day she and Remy got married. She would probably need all of it.
Erik said goodbye as he dropped her off at the departures terminal. “Take care, honey, and be safe. Trust in John and his help. He sounds like one of the good guys. I’ll be waiting for your nighttime calls, and I’ll keep the bed warm for you. I love you, Abby.”
“I love you, too. I hope I can have everything wrapped up in a week, but they are on island time down there. I’ll let you know as soon as I know, and I’ll call you tonight.” Abby kissed Erik and gave him a long embrace. “Life will be normal soon,” she said. “I promise.”
***
The flights were uneventful and on time. Abby was thankful for that. She landed at Henry E. Rohlsen airport and took a cab to Green Cay Marina on the north side of the island. She saw John waiting at the bar and rushed up to give him a hug. “John, it’s so good to see you. I appreciate everything you’ve done on my behalf. Have you seen the boat yet?”
“Yeah, it’s one hell of a cruiser. It’s sitting in the last slip on the right. Let’s have a beer, then I’ll take you over to it. I’ll have to get the security guard to let us through the gate so we can board. I’ve already talked to the police, and they know you’re here. They gave us permission to board once the security guard checks your ID. They want to talk to you sometime tomorrow.”
“But I don’t know anything.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s probably just a formality, but you may have to declare Remy dead and sign papers. I really don’t know how any of this works, Abs.”
They each had a beer then walked down the sunbaked wooden pier. A guard shack sat next to the locked gate. John explained that Abby was the legal owner of the speedboat in the last slip. She showed the guard her ID and waited. He made the mandatory call then cleared her entry through the gate. Abby and John walked past eight catamarans and fishing boats before they came upon Abby’s Folly at the end of the pier.
“Holy shit, John, this boat is enormous, and it has two engines.”
“Yeah, I don’t know a lot about racing boats, but I’ve been told it’s forty feet long and has 520 HP twin Mercury racing engines. Rough estimate, I’ve been told, is almost three hundred thousand dollars.”
“That’s insane! I have no idea what to do with a boat like this.”
“Don’t worry about that. You’re in the Caribbean. It will be easy to sell. The problem is, there’s still a lot of your money unaccounted for. What we need to do is find out where Remy lived. There might be some clues at his house.
John joined Abby the following day at the police department in Christiansted. They sat in a private office with Captain Jeremy Parrish. Abby opened a manila folder and spread every document she had relating to Remy across the large mahogany desk. The evidence was undeniable that Abby and Remy were husband and wife. She showed the captain their marriage license, all of her bank statements, and the stock portfolio she had. She even showed him copies of her mortgage and deed to the house on Magens Bay.
“Sir, do you have an address for Remy? Last I heard, he was living here on St. Croix.” She cracked open both plastic bottles of water she had been given when they sat down and handed one to John.
“Just one moment, Mrs. Bellavance.”
That title made Abby cringe. She glanced toward John and frowned. He squeezed her shoulder.
The captain paged through the documents they had collected over the last week. “Yes, here it is. It appears that Mr. Bellavance was leasing a condo overlooking Cane Bay. Here’s the address. Feel free to check it out, ma’am, but you may have to get permission from the property manager to enter the home. Here is the telephone number for the leasing agency.”
Abby and John left the police department and headed back to the marina. “These guys will know how to sell a boat fast. You might as well get a head start on things while you’re here.”
“Good plan. Do we need to have it appraised first?” she asked as they climbed into the rental car and drove to the marina. The drive was a short five minutes.
“Yeah, we should. We’ll clean it out and spiff it up a bit, then it can go on the market. Are you willing to negotiate to get rid of it faster?”
“Yeah, the sooner that beast is gone, the better. I hope the new owners change the name, too.”
They entered the marina’s main office and spoke to the man at the counter. He knew several people that might be interested in the boat. He also did appraisals himself. “So, you’re talking about that speedboat that was just brought in a few days ago, Abby’s Folly?”
“That’s the one,” John answered. Abby was happy to let John do the talking since she didn’t know anything about boats.
“Okay, let’s take a look. I was about to take a half-hour break anyway.”
After the appraisal, they were told the boat could fetch a quick two hundred fifty thousand dollars if they were willing to price it that low. “This boat just needs a quick cleaning, and she’ll be good to go. It’s last year’s model and in great condition,” the man said, looking around, “other than the mess.”
“Okay, that’s easy enough to take care of. Can you list her right away? We’ll get started on the cleanup.”
“Sure, Mr. Richmond. I’ll get the word out and let you know what I come up with. All I need is a phone number.”
Abby and John spent the day with buckets, scrub brushes, and garbage cans, courtesy of the marina cleaning crew. By late afternoon, Abby’s Folly looked like a brand-new boat. She glistened in the sunlight as she waited for a new owner to snatch her up at a deeply discounted price.
***
John followed the directions to Remy’s condo using the navigation system on his phone. He turned into a long gravel driveway and took it almost to the water’s edge. Four condos and a shared boat dock were in the bay. He parked the car and noticed someone exiting a black Ford Focus.
“That must be the leasing agent with the key,” he said to Abby.
The woman introduced herself as Marie Jamison, leasing agent for Cane Bay condos. “How long do you think you’ll be?” she asked as she looked at the gold watch on her wrist.
“I don’t know, maybe all day,” Abby responded.
“That’s fine. Just give me a call when you’re finished. I’ll come back and lock up later.”
“What happens to all of the furniture in here?”
“Oh, no worries, dear, the condo came furnished. The only things inside belonging to Mr. Bellavance were his personal items.”
“Thank God for that,” Abby said with a sigh of relief.
They waited until Mrs. Jamison drove away before talking openly.
“Well, Abs, I guess the most important thing to do is look for cash and any type of bank
statement or investment document,” John said.
“Do you think Remy was savvy enough to invest the money?”
“I don’t know, Abs, but he sure was savvy enough to steal it.”
They went through the condo methodically, putting everything they had already looked at off to the side. Luckily, it was only a one-bedroom unit. If anything was there, they would eventually find it.
“Chances are, if Remy invested money, he would have documentation in his emails. There has to be someone on the island that can access email accounts. I mean, detectives do it on TV all the time when they’re checking into criminals’ Internet activity.”
“Wait a minute. I just thought of something. I wonder if it can really be this simple.”
“What’s that?” John sat down next to Abby at the desk as she opened the laptop.
“We both used to use the word infinity for our password and then add a few numbers after it for our own personal passwords. Mine was the last four digits of my Social Security number. I’m going to mess around with this for a bit and see if I can come up with the right password. It could be his birthdate, or middle name. I’ll give it an hour, and if nothing pops, we’ll take it with us to the police station.”
“Okay, I’ll keep searching,” John said as he headed off and started on the master bedroom.
Abby sat at the computer and rubbed her temples in deep concentration. Each password she typed in that didn’t work gave her even more of a headache.
“Abby, come here. Look what I found!” The excitement in John’s voice told Abby it was something good.
She rounded the corner into the bedroom and found John sitting on the bed. In his hands was a wooden shoe shine box. Rather than tins of shoe polish inside, there were stacks of cash instead. There was also a note from Caribe Bank and Trust showing the PIN for his checking account.
“Oh my gosh, this really is important. Now we know where he banks. Let’s count this cash and see what we have.”
John locked the doors just to feel more secure as they counted the cash they’d found. In all, there was seventy-two thousand four hundred dollars in one-hundred-dollar bills. Abby went back to the computer to try to log on. Figuring out the password would tell them how much money he had in Caribe Bank and Trust—and anywhere else. Almost at the point of finally giving up, Abby tried one last combination. She typed infinity82413. The screen came alive, and she was in.
