Summer Rental

by Mary Kay Andrews

  “It’s the nicest bedroom in the house,” Dorie pointed out. “With beach access. And off-street parking.”

  “Is there a garage?” Maryn asked eagerly.

  “Yeees,” Dorie said, though she had no idea if the garage guy would be willing to let somebody else park in it. Maybe if they offered to throw some of this woman’s cash his way, he’d agree to share.

  “Does it have a private entrance?”

  Dorie bit her lip. There was an outside spiral staircase leading up to the third floor, but it was narrow and scary-looking, and none of the girls had even thought to try going up it. Still, it was technically a private entrance. And this woman was anxious to have a room with a garage and a private entrance. And she obviously had the money to pay for both.

  “It has a private entrance,” Dorie said, nodding for emphasis. “But if you want to park in the garage, that’ll be an extra hundred bucks a week.”

  The blonde took a sip of her iced tea. She put her glass down on the counter, and twisted the diamond solitaire ring for a moment. Dorie found herself holding her breath.

  “Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll take it.”

  Dorie grinned. “Great. But we’ll want the rent in cash. In advance.”

  Maryn shook her head. “I’d prefer to pay half now, half at the end of the month. In case I have a change of plans.”

  “Deal,” Dorie said, putting out her hand. “By the way, my name is Dorie Dunaway.”

  The blonde hesitated, and then took Dorie’s hand. “I’m Madison. Madison Venable. When can I move in?”

  Dorie looked down at her watch. “How’s four o’clock? I’ll want to let my friends know you’re coming and make sure your space in the garage is empty.”

  “That’ll work,” Madison said. “I’ve got some things to take care of this afternoon, then I’ll be over.”

  “The house is called Ebbtide,” Dorie said, putting her money on the counter beside her empty glass. “It’s three blocks north of here, on the beach road, which is Virginia Dare. There’s a sign at the entrance to the driveway, and you’ll see my red van.”

  12

  Julia and Ellis were sitting on the front porch, painting each other’s toenails a ridiculous shade of neon green. “There you are!” Ellis cried, as Dorie flopped down onto a rocking chair beside her. “Where’d you disappear to?”

  “I woke up and you guys were gone,” Dorie said accusingly.

  “We went for ice cream,” Julia said. “We didn’t think you’d care.”

  Dorie laughed. “That’s what I did too, only it was a milk shake.” She licked her lips. “Yummy. I don’t know when the last time was that I had a real milk shake made with real chocolate syrup and ice cream and the works. Not to mention whipped cream and a cherry.”

  “Sounds divine,” Julia said. She held the bottle of nail polish aloft. “It’s called Lime-a-Lishus. Want to be next?”

  “No thanks,” Dorie said. “I did my toes right before I left home.”

  “We were just talking about what to do about dinner,” Ellis said. “It’s your turn tonight. Got any thoughts?”

  “Not yet,” Dorie said, sitting on the edge of the rocking chair so that it leaned into the girls. “Listen, you guys, I just did something kinda crazy.”

  “What? You picked up a guy along with your milk shake?” Julia laughed. “Now that’s our old Dorie!”

  “Lord no!” Dorie said. “Here’s the thing. I kinda rented out the top floor of this house to a woman I just met.”

  “Sure you did,” Ellis said lazily, flexing her toes and admiring her daring new look.

  “For reals,” Dorie said, sitting up straight. “I totally did. Her name’s Madison, she dresses like she’s got plenty of bucks, and I overheard her asking the waitress about renting a motel room with a kitchenette. She was sitting next to me at the restaurant, and we kind of struck up a conversation. So I offered her the room that was going to be mine and Stephen’s. And she took it. She’s going to pay us six hundred dollars more than Willa would have. So what do you guys think?”

  Julia put the bottle of nail polish on the floor. “I think,” she said slowly, “that you have lost your freaking mind. You can’t be serious, Dorie. Do you mean to tell me you just invited a total stranger to live with us for the next month? Don’t you think that’s something you might have run by Ellis and me?”

  Dorie bit her lip. “Yeah, I guess. But the money will more than make up for what Willa would have paid. I just thought, I mean, it’s sort of my fault Willa let us all down. She’s my sister, and I’m the one who talked you guys into letting her come. I should have known she would pull a stunt like that. I just figured it was my responsibility to fix things. So I did.”

  Ellis took Dorie’s hand. “You’re really worried about the money part, I know. But honey, you’re not responsible for what Willa did. And Julia and I aren’t mad at you about it. That’s just Willa.”

  “I am worried about the money,” Dorie cried. “I mean, Ellis, you’re out of work, and Julia’s not working as much as she used to, so I think money’s tight for all of us.…”

  “Who says I’m not working?” Julia said, bristling. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” Dorie said, backpedaling.

  “Julia!” Ellis said sharply. “Cut the crap. You just told me yourself that you’re not working as much. And anyway, you know Dorie didn’t mean it like that. The truth is, money is kinda tight for all of us. But Dorie, you really should have talked to us about this before you offered to rent out your room.”

  “I know,” Dorie said, sniffling. “God, I’m such a screwup. But, it all happened so fast. And it just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “What do you even know about this girl?” Julia asked.

  Dorie hesitated. “She’s from New Jersey, and on vacation, sort of a spur-of-the-moment beach trip … and, oh yeah, she hates it when they put too much mayo on a sandwich.”

  “Oh, she’s a mayo hater, is she? Say no more! That seals the deal for me.” Julia rolled her eyes.

  Dorie bit her lip. “I guess I could tell Madison we’ve changed our minds.…” Her voice trailed off. “She’s coming over at four. I’ll tell her then.”

  “Well.…” Ellis cleared her throat. “It is a lot of money.”

  “And the room’s just sitting there, empty,” Dorie reminded them. “It’s not like she’d be rooming with us. Not even on the same floor as the rest of us.”

  “But she’s a stranger, Dorie,” Julia said. “You don’t really know anything about her. Maybe she’s a pathological liar. Maybe she’s really from Arkansas. And maybe she actually adores mayo and can’t stand ketchup. Who knows? She could walk down those stairs one night and murder us all in our beds, as we’re sleeping.”

  “But, why would she do something like that?” Dorie asked, digging in her heels. Julia’s bossiness was starting to wear thin with her. The more Julia protested Madison’s coming, the more Dorie thought it was a good idea. “Anyway, if you’re that worried about her, we could all get locks on the bedroom doors.”

  “Surely, that’s not necessary,” Ellis said, her voice trailing off.

  Dorie studied Ellis, knowing she was the swing vote on the matter of Madison.

  “Just meet her, please?” Dorie said, keeping her eyes on Ellis. “You’ll see, she’s perfectly nice. And the setup is perfect. Madison could come and go by that outside stairway around back. That’s what she wanted, a separate entrance. And she wanted to make sure she could use the kitchen, and of course, I told her that would be fine. You guys, she seems like somebody we could trust. She agreed to pay cash—half up front, half at the end of the month. I watched her drive off. She’s got a new-looking Volvo SUV. And she’s got some major-league diamonds. And, I mean, she was wearing Dior sunglasses and carrying a Prada bag. I guess they were the real thing, I don’t really know a lot about that kind of stuff.…”

  “I do,” Julia said quickly. �
��I can spot bootleg Prada from a mile away.”

  “Okay, when she comes over, you can totally check out all that stuff,” Dorie said. “What do you say?”

  “It couldn’t hurt to meet her,” Ellis said. “Right, Julia?”

  “Whatever,” Julia said, mustering a stern look. “But when this homicidal maniac slashes you to pieces with a butcher knife, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Dorie said happily. “Unless you guys get just a really weird vibe, Madison is in. Now, I’ll just run upstairs and leave some clean towels in the bathroom. It’s the least I can do, since she’s taking up Willa’s slack.”

  “I’ll give you a hand,” Ellis volunteered.

  “There’s just one more thing,” Dorie added. “Madison wants to be able to keep her car in the garage. I told her we’d have to charge her a hundred dollars more a week, and she didn’t bat an eyelash.”

  “We don’t have access to the garage,” Ellis said. “Garage boy keeps his Bronco there.”

  “There’s room for two cars,” Dorie said. “Maybe Ty Bazemore wouldn’t mind. Maybe you could ask Mr. Culpepper for permission.”

  “Maybe,” Ellis said, sounding noncommittal. “I’ll check and see.”

  13

  Maryn watched Dorie’s red van pull out of the parking lot. Had she done something totally crazy? She’d just agreed to rent a room in a house full of women—total strangers—sight unseen. Why? Something about this girl made her feel safe. Dorie seemed like somebody she could trust. And Maryn couldn’t remember the last time she had trusted another woman she wasn’t related to.

  She told herself the new plan made perfect sense. This way her name wouldn’t show up on any hotel or motel register. She wouldn’t be using a credit card. She’d be hidden away in a private home, in a place he’d never look, her car parked in a garage, hidden from prying eyes.

  Maryn pulled her cell phone from her handbag and checked for messages. Four missed calls from Don. She deleted them with a tap of her fingertip, wishing the task were as easy in the real world as it was in the digital one. She wondered idly if she should call Adam, tell him how right he’d been about Don. She wished she could tell him, wished they could talk. Adam was the only one she could trust. But it wasn’t safe. Not for him, not for her.

  Maryn nibbled nervously at her cuticle. What should she do? Call the police? Call the old man, R.G. Prescott himself? And tell him what? “I used to work for you, and my husband, Don Shackleford, is your accountant, and incidentally, he’s ripped you off to the tune of a couple million dollars, have a nice day?”

  No. She had no real proof. She hadn’t worked for the insurance company in months. Shortly after their marriage, Don had insisted she quit—he had plenty of money, they didn’t need her penny-ante salary, and anyway, she had plenty to do at home, the three-thousand-square-foot town house they were renting while the new house was under construction. She’d kept up the friendship with Adam after leaving the company, but she was careful not to mention Adam to Don, who thought Adam was a loser—and anyway, why couldn’t she make friends with the wives of some of his golf buddies?

  Adam had called on her cell phone last Friday, and it was obvious that something was wrong. “We need to talk,” he’d said, his voice low, insisting they meet at a coffee shop miles away from Cherry Hill.

  She’d laughed when he walked in fifteen minutes late, wearing oversized sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low over his face. “What, you’re incognito?”

  “This is serious, Maryn,” Adam had said. “Listen. We had outside auditors show up at the office today. They wouldn’t tell anybody what they were looking for, but I know for a fact that something’s funny with half a dozen of our accounts.”

  She shrugged. “What’s that got to do with me? I haven’t worked there in months. And anyway, I just handled claims processing.”

  “This isn’t about you,” Adam said. “It’s about your husband.”

  “Don?” She still didn’t get it.

  Adam smirked. “How do you think he got so rich? How many other CPAs do you know who live like him? The houses, new cars, trips to Vegas, Palm Beach, Bermuda? How much do you think it costs to belong to a country club like yours?” He gestured towards Maryn’s engagement ring. “Robby Prescott is old money, third generation, and his wife doesn’t have a ring like that.”

  “That’s crazy,” Maryn said heatedly. She got up to leave. “Don doesn’t have to steal. He owns investment property, an office building on the south side, some self-storage companies. Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean he’s a crook.”

  Adam grabbed her sleeve, and her coffee spilled all over the table, splashing on her favorite Armani skirt. “Listen to me,” he insisted. “The guy is dirty. There’s money missing, or at least unaccounted for. Like, two million dollars.”

  “You’re talking about my husband,” Maryn said, her voice cold. “Now let go. And don’t call me again. Ever.”

  Her anger lasted all of a day. And then she started to wonder. Just where did all Don’s money come from? Why was he so secretive about his business affairs? He was generous with her, but she had no checking account of her own, not even a debit card, only credit cards, and she never saw a bill or bank statement. Everything was sent directly to his office. If she needed cash, she asked, and Don gave. “I’m your own personal ATM,” he told her more than once, graphically demonstrating just what he expected from her in return for his generosity.

  And exactly twenty-four hours after her meeting with Adam, Maryn had started to look for answers. And what she found was much, much more than she bargained for. The truth hadn’t set her free at all, she thought now. It had sent her running for her life.

  She put the phone away and dismissed any thought of asking anybody for help. Who would believe her? For now, she had more pressing matters to attend to. Her designer clothes—big-city career pieces—made her stand out like a sore thumb in a beach town. And the few pieces of clothing she’d hurriedly thrown into her duffle were just as unsuited to her current situation.

  There was an outlet mall just down the road. She’d pick up a new wardrobe for the new person she’d just invented on the spot, a few minutes ago. Madison would need some shorts and T-shirts, a pair of Levi’s, some flip-flops. And her own clothes—Maryn’s clothes, the ones with all those expensive designer tags that she’d once lusted over? There was a Goodwill donation bin in the parking lot of the mall. That would be the end of Maryn. And the beginning of Madison.

  * * *

  “Here she comes,” Dorie said, as the Volvo bumped along down the driveway.

  “Nice car,” Julia said, eyeing it. “Wonder where she stole it?”

  “Be nice,” Dorie warned, jumping up from the rocking chair she’d been perched on.

  She waited until Madison had parked the car in front of the driveway, and then walked slowly down to meet her.

  “Hi, Madison,” Dorie said, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here. Did you have any trouble finding us?”

  “Not at all,” Madison said, unloading her duffle bag and laptop case from the trunk.

  “Here,” Dorie said, tugging at the strap of the duffle bag, “Let me help you carry your stuff in.”

  “No!” Madison jerked the duffle bag away. “I mean, no thanks. I can manage by myself.”

  “All right,” Dorie said. “Come on up to the porch. We’re just having some iced tea. The girls are dying to meet you.”

  “If it’s all right with you,” Madison said, “I’ve had a long day. I’d just as soon see my room first, and get settled in. Maybe we could handle the introductions later?”

  Dorie’s cheeks flushed hot pink. “Actually, I was a little bit premature in offering to rent the room without everybody having met you first. “

  Madison’s smile was tight. “They want to check me out, make sure I’m not some kind of freak, right?”

  “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I did this all on my own
, without consulting anybody,” Dorie said apologetically. “I’m not usually this impulsive. But I’m sure it’ll be fine, as soon as they meet you.”

  Madison let out a long sigh of annoyance. “Let’s get it over with then.”

  * * *

  “Girls,” Dorie said, “this is Madison.”

  Ellis stood up and held out her hand. “Madison, hi. I’m Ellis Sullivan.”

  Julia stayed in her rocking chair. She looked Madison up and down and finally put down her glass of iced tea. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Julia.”

  “Hi there,” Madison said warily. She clutched her pocketbook and looked around the porch. “This looks very nice. Thanks for agreeing to let me horn in on your getaway.”

  “We’re glad to have you,” Ellis said. She gestured towards the rocking chair she’d just abandoned. “Join us, won’t you? I just made a pitcher of iced tea.”

  “Thank you,” Madison said. She put the duffle bag and laptop on the floor beside the rocking chair and took the glass of iced tea Ellis poured.

  An uneasy silence fell over the porch, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of Julia’s chair, rocking back and forth on the worn wooden floorboards.

  “I guess Dorie told you about all of us,” Ellis said, anxious to break the ice.

  “Not really,” Madison said. “She just said you all were old friends. From Savannah?”

  “Actually, I’m the only one still living in Savannah,” Dorie said, jumping in. “I teach English at a Catholic girls’ high school. Ellis lives in Philadelphia, and she’s in banking.”

  “Was in banking,” Ellis said. “I’ve just been downsized.”

  “And Julia lives in London. When she’s not traveling. She’s a model. You’ve probably seen her in magazines. Sumptuesse shampoo? That was Julia,” Dorie said. “She was the face of Sumptuesse.”

  “But not lately,” Julia said wryly. “What about you, Madison? What brings you to Nags Head?”

  Madison had been waiting for it, and she was ready with an answer that was mostly true.

  “I’m running away from home,” she said glibly, with a toss of her head. “Man troubles.”