Pineapple Lies

by Amy Vansant

  “Huh. On your own that young. I bet a lot of kids dream about that.”

  “Probably. Too bad I was a pretty good kid. I didn’t take advantage of the situation the way I should have. I decorated the house to my fourteen-year-old tastes, of course.”

  “Ah, right, I remember,” said Declan, grinning.

  “I know, I know…you said it looked like a dorm.”

  “It just lacked a certain…sophistication?”

  Charlotte laughed.

  “You’re right. You’re totally right. And to think you didn’t even go down the hallway to experience it in all its glory. You should see my bedroom.”

  Did I just say that?

  Charlotte grabbed her wine glass and took a sip. Her eyes darted around Declan’s home; focusing anywhere but on him.

  It was a nice house, with a high ceiling in the main living area and an open concept. It looked too new for it to be his childhood home.

  “Did you live here with your grandmother?”

  “No. She lived in Tampa. After she died I came back here and bought this place.”

  “Why would you come back to Charity? I mean, I know we have a nice new food store now, but…it isn’t exactly a hotbed of culture and entertainment.”

  “Seamus’ ex-business partner at the pawnshop died and I took over. Plus, it’s cheaper here.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And something was drawing me back anyway. Roots. Maybe nostalgia.”

  “Maybe you wanted to be here in case your mom ever returned.”

  Charlotte froze. She’d expressed her opinion before thinking it through; Declan hadn’t asked her to psychoanalyze him, especially with the blow of his mother’s confirmed death still so raw.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, it’s okay,” said Declan. “You’re probably right.”

  He leaned forward to retrieve the television remote.

  “You want to watch a movie or something?”

  She heard the chatter of commercials blaring through the surround sound speakers as he adjusted the volume. She sighed. She’d upset him and now he needed distraction from her.

  “There might be something on the movie channels,” he said, flipping to the guide. “I can’t do anything streaming right now. For some reason my so-called smart TV doesn’t have any sound when I try and use the smart features. Not through the surround sound, anyway.”

  “I should probably go,” she said.

  “Not a movie buff?”

  “No, it isn’t that… Wait; did you say you can’t get sound when you use the smart TV features?”

  “Yeah. It’s a new and I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

  “Do you have an optical cable?”

  Declan knit his brow. “I think so…”

  She put down her glass and walked to the cabinet next to the television where the electronics sat. One side of the cabinet was open to allow Declan to use his remote, the other, closed. She opened the closed side and knelt down in front of it.

  “Do you mind if I look?”

  “I guess not…”

  Charlotte turned the cable box sideways and studied the back of it. She followed a cord with her fingers and saw that it led to the stereo system that ran the surround sound.

  “See this?”

  Declan knelt beside her and peered into the cabinet, their faces close. His otherwise subtle shaving scent filled the small cabinet area. She wished she’d remembered to wear perfume. She never remembered to do that.

  “That’s the optical cable, right?” he asked.

  “Right. That’s the problem.”

  “But it worked before.”

  Their lips were so close Charlotte could lick his nose. As soon as that thought popped into her mind, it became almost impossible not to lick his nose.

  “It worked with the old TV, I mean,” he added, his voice suddenly much softer.

  Charlotte swallowed.

  “Thing is,” she said, also speaking softly in the tight space. “You’ve got it leading directly from the sound system to the cable box, so it isn’t working with the television directly. The smart TV needs that.”

  “Really?”

  Declan leaned farther in to see.

  Both of them were on their hands and knees, side by side. His hip grazed hers and then bounced away. A second later, it returned, lightly pressing against her own hip. There it remained.

  The phrase joined at the hip ping-ponged through her mind. She’d never enjoyed that phrase so much.

  “You need the cable to go from the sound system directly to the television. Watch.”

  Charlotte reached in to pluck the optical cable from the back of the cable box, but lost her balance and fell against Declan. He lifted a hand to steady her, his palm resting against her hipbone, his fingers brushing her waist.

  “Easy there,” he said.

  “Sorry,” she said, flashing a quick smile. She watched as a tiny bead of sweat appeared at Declan’s hairline and began its travels down his brow.

  “The equipment gives off a lot of heat,” she said.

  He leaned back and wiped his brow.

  “Yes. I wonder if that’s normal.”

  Charlotte pulled the optical cable towards the television connection.

  “Good thing you have an extra-long cable. I think we’re going to make it.”

  “Uh…good.”

  He cleared his throat.

  Declan pulled the television away from the wall to grant her access to the ports on the opposite side. She strained to reach while he stood beside her and held the stand to keep the television from toppling. She felt a warm breeze on her chest. The television sat on a mantle above a fireplace, and she stood on the low hearth to reach the back cable ports. This put her breasts at eye level with Declan as he steadied the television and she leaned towards him. She could feel his breath between her breasts.

  Declan’s eyes glanced up to catch her looking and he turned his face to the side.

  “Almost there?” he asked.

  Charlotte spotted the port.

  “Almost.”

  She slipped the optical wire into its square hole and stepped down.

  “There! Try it now.”

  Declan set the television back on the mantle and grabbed the remote. He loaded a movie streaming service and picked a random selection from his purchased queue. The sound of voices filled the room.

  “You did it!” he said. “Who knew you were such a nerd!”

  Charlotte laughed. “Everyone, except you, apparently.”

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “I just happened to set up a similar thing at my house. You managed to get me during the month that information was still in my head.”

  “I don’t know about that. I think maybe you’re just a genius.”

  “I wish.”

  “So do you want to watch something?”

  Charlotte looked at the screen. Two people were kissing, grappling with each other, about to fall into bed.

  “Not this,” he said, quickly hitting pause. “It’s actually a murder mystery, not…uh…”

  “Porn?”

  “Right.”

  Declan had paused the film seconds before a man’s tongue grazed a woman’s breast, her nipple visible through the thin fabric of her chemise.

  “Oh,” she said, an involuntary noise that escaped her lips as she looked away. “I…uh…”

  “I could make popcorn…”

  He looked at the screen, spotted the paused scene and quickly hit play.

  Groans of pleasure filled the room, amplified by surround sound.

  Every nerve in Charlotte’s body hummed with energy.

  The wine, she thought, glancing at the second empty glass sitting on the table. White wine always made her giddy. She looked at Declan and knew she couldn’t be trusted with him. The countdown until she made a fool of herself began in 10…9…

  “No, I should go,” she sai
d. “I’ll come hook up your washer and dryer tomorrow.”

  Declan laughed as he fumbled to turn off the television.

  “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have a tech geek living just a few blocks away.”

  Charlotte walked to the door and he jogged to beat her there. He opened the door.

  “Thanks for coming over. Now I’ll have some idea of what to expect when I read the autopsy tomorrow.”

  “No problem.”

  Declan held out his hand and Charlotte shook it. The exchange felt strangely formal.

  “Okay…see ya,” she said, walking out the door.

  She was nearly to her bike when Declan called to her.

  “Oh, and it’s lion.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The French word for lion is lion.”

  Charlotte grinned. “Thank you. Good to know.”

  She paused.

  “What’s the little divot above a person’s upper lip called?”

  Declan’s brow knitted.

  “What am I? Your own personal Google?”

  She laughed and waved as she straddled her bike to head for home.

  She replayed their interaction in her head as she pedaled, until she reached the part where she’d fixed his television. Her eyes grew wide at the memory.

  Oh no. Please tell me I didn’t say that.

  She slapped a hand across her mouth.

  “Good thing you have an extra-long cable?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seamus knocked on Jackie’s door and she answered a moment later.

  “Aren’t you a vision in blue,” he said, admiring her aquamarine tunic with matching turquoise jewelry.

  “Why thank you! Ready?”

  “First, a gift.”

  Seamus pulled his hands from behind his back to reveal what he had been hiding.

  “Thank you! It’s—it’s a package of bacon?”

  “You said you loved bacon! And flowers are so overdone.”

  Jackie turned the flat package of meat over to inspect the other side. “And maple, too, wonderful.”

  “It was between that and the pepper-edged. It was a tough call, but I made it.”

  “Well, you’ve chosen wisely. And, it’s nice to know you listen! I’ll put this in the fridge.”

  Seamus nodded. “Yeah, it occurred to me it wouldn’t be such a great idea to give it to you in the car.”

  Jackie trotted to her kitchen and returned a moment later to walk with Seamus to his Toyota Highlander.

  “So where is it you want me to take you?” he asked. “You made it sound like a big secret.”

  “Oh it is. It is exactly a secret. A secret club. You even need to know the password to get in.”

  “Really? Gorgeous and mysterious. You’re a keeper.”

  He chuckled as Jackie smiled and batted her eyelashes.

  “You can only get the password if you’re on their list or recommended by a member,” she said.

  “So you’re officially recommending me? I’m honored.”

  “No, you’re my guest. That’s different. We’ll see if I recommend you.”

  “Still not sure after I brought salty pork products? Oh boy. Tough nut. Guess I better be on my best behavior.”

  “Don’t be too good,” drawled Jackie.

  Seamus winked. “Not a problem.”

  They pulled beside a large warehouse located fifteen minutes inland. There were twenty cars already there, and they took their place beside them in the huge lot.

  A large, ponytailed man in his mid-thirties greeted them at the entrance. He had a dagger tattooed on the side of his neck. Seamus eyeballed him, calculating his chances against him in a tussle. He gave himself a fifty-fifty shot.

  “Hey Miss Jackie,” said Ponytail.

  “O’Toole, Newman and Pickford.”

  The man opened the door and held it for them as they entered. “You know you don’t have to—”

  Jackie nodded and walked inside, holding aloft a hand to quiet the bouncer as she moved.

  “He seems very familiar with you,” said Seamus, giving the giant one last glance.

  Jackie shrugged. “I like it here. I come a lot.”

  “And what kind of password was that? I’ll never be able to come here if I have to remember all that nonsense.”

  “It’s easy to remember,” said Jackie above the rising music as they passed through a narrow hallway with tin walls. “O’Toole, Newman and Pickford…Peter, Paul and Mary.”

  Seamus stepped into the main room and his jaw fell slack. A sea of smartly dressed retirees filled the giant warehouse space. A DJ stood on a large stage spinning tunes. Though the current song was from before his time, he recognized it as Yakity Yak by the Coasters.

  “It’s an old people dance club!”

  “Fifties, sixties and a smattering of seventies music. It cycles so when the seventy-year-olds get tired, the sixties music starts and the sixty-year-olds dance until it is time for the fifty-year-olds to step in.”

  “So no one has a heart attack.”

  “Most of the time. Want a drink? It’s a little easier to talk by the bar.”

  They meandered to a large and well-stocked bar located against the east wall.

  “I’ll take a tequila sunrise, Joe,” said Jackie to the young man pouring.

  “Whiskey for me,” said Seamus.

  “Ice?”

  He raised an eyebrow. Joe nodded and poured it straight.

  “What do I owe you?” asked Seamus.

  Joe’s eyes darted towards Jackie and he shook his head. “On the house.”

  Seamus looked at Jackie.

  “You own this place, don’t you?”

  “What? What makes you say that?”

  “The way everyone treats you. Defers to you. It’s pretty obvious.”

  “Well…not a lot of people know, so keep it to yourself.”

  “You have partners?”

  “Just me.”

  “What about your neighbors in Pineapple Port? Do they know?”

  Jackie shook her head. “They think I’m just another happy patron.”

  “You are a woman of mystery!” said Seamus, finishing his glass and motioning for another.

  “You still won’t be able to get in here without me until someone recommends you and you’re approved,” said Jackie, a saucy smile creeping to her lips. “And after tonight you’ll have to start paying for the whiskey.”

  “Then make it a double!” Seamus called over his shoulder.

  Jackie laughed.

  “I think I’ll be able to get in,” said Seamus. “I have friends in management.”

  Jackie stared at him, smile lingering. Seamus had seen that look before.

  Oh she’s done. She’s in love with me.

  He leaned in and kissed her. He wanted to think about how lovely she looked, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she owned the club. As their lips separated, his gaze wandered to the huge, industrial-style bar and the endless racks of booze.

  Best. Girlfriend. Ever.

  “So you were a cop, right?” asked Jackie.

  “Afraid I’ll bust you for your underground club?”

  “It’s not as illegal as people might think. Making people think it’s illegal is part of my marketing plan. It makes it more exciting for everyone.”

  “Ha! One last caper, huh? Like getting to sneak out on their parents again.”

  “Something like that. There is a poker room in the back. That isn’t entirely legal.”

  Jackie pointed to a door and he looked at it.

  “Reeeally…”

  “Tonight isn’t poker night, don’t get any ideas.”

  “When is it?”

  “I’ll tell you if and when the time is right.”

  Seamus grinned. “Tough broad.”

  He was about to lean in to steal another kiss when his attention drew to the far corner of the dance floor. In a large booth, six people were making out lik
e overheated teenagers. Every one of them had to be in their late sixties, if not older. There were bald heads, cheap shoes and bright plastic jewelry flashing everywhere. One couple tumbled out of their seat on the floor and began giggling.

  “That group needs to get a room,” he said.

  Jackie groaned. “It’s the X.”

  “X? Ecstasy?”

  Jackie nodded. “They love it. There are strict rules about selling or consuming drugs on the premises, but they take it before they come and then…” she raised the corner of her upper lip and threw a finger in the direction of a man and woman clutching each other in a desperate attempt to meld their bodies together. “…that.”

  “Where do they get it?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t decided what to do about it yet. Once they’re here they aren’t technically doing anything wrong, but I get tired of turning the firehose on them to get them to leave at the end of the night. Plus, sometimes they start feeling up people not involved in their little—”

  Jackie cut short.

  “Al!” she called across the room. “Al!”

  A short man standing near the X group turned his head toward Jackie. He pointed to his chest and Jackie nodded, pointing to her feet. Al shuffled over.

  Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis swelled. Some of the fast dancers downshifted, some left the floor, and a new crowd of slow dancing couples moved in to take their place. Blue spotlights swirled slowly around the dance floor.

  “Al, what are you doing over there?” Jackie asked as he drew near.

  “What?”

  “You know what. Why are you skulking about with that crowd?”

  “Aw…I wanted to try it. Don’t you want to try it?”

  “No, I do not. Do you know where they buy it?”

  “No. Thing is I had two. Friend of mind had a couple and gave them to me.”

  “Who?”

  Al scowled.

  “I’m no snitch.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Anyway, I was going to take them before I came today, but I lost them. Worst part is I think I left them on Charlotte’s counter.”

  Seamus’ ears perked at the sound of Charlotte’s name.