“A little over six months ago,” she collected things on her tray. “I miss her. I can still hear her giving me pointers on dealing with my parents,” she laughed lightly and stood up. “Gotta get back. Thanks for listening, Cat.”
“Huh,” Cat finished her soup in thought, a little wave offered when Erika told her she had to get back to meet with purchasing. She pulled her phone out and tapped in the familiar number.
Carter Shipley hit the speaker button and kept working the search.
“Good afternoon, Catherine.”
“Hi, Carter. I got your note about the filing,” she said easily, lips pursed. “We’ve alerted our security and issued warnings to the press people about the line they do not want to cross for future access to the resort.”
“How is Erika?”
“Confused,” she said honestly. “Zee is livid and she’s still wanting to believe there’s a valid explanation for what her mother did. As someone with dysfunctional parents as far as being parents is concerned, I can identify with the little girl in her.” She leaned back in the comfortable chair, staring out the wide panoramic window in the employee cafeteria.
“I’m going with the officers in an hour, Catherine. I spoke with Zee. He’s picking her up from work and taking her back and forth. I know from experience that keeping her secluded won’t be easy,” Carter sighed heavily.
“No more so than it would be were it you needing contained,” Catherine said sweetly.
“So we’re chauvinists when it comes to our women,” Carter ground back at his sister-in-law.
“I’ve got some information that might help. I was talking to Erika and she told me that her father was angry with her because of her veto on a contract deal with Vincent Electronics,” Catherine paused thoughtfully. “It seems her grandmother died about six months back and left Erika her voting block of stock in the company.”
“Six months,” Carter repeated slowly. “Now isn’t that a little coincidental.”
“I thought you might see it that way. I’m off to work, Carter, be careful, okay?”
“Always. Thanks, Catherine,” Carter tapped the off button and sat staring out the window in his office at the beach and receding tide. He never had been fond of coincidences like this one.
He waited in front of the unfinished hospital, perched on the fender of the sports car, arms crossed over the brightly flowered shirt. Long, jean covered legs stretched out before him as he watched people leaving the building. Zee knew the instant she came through the door, her laughter bright as she chatted with one of her friends.
Erika saw him and told Alexa good night and took off at a light run, skidding to a stop in front of him.
“Hey, sexy, need someone to carry your books for you?” Zee reached for the notebook she had in her arms, her leather case swinging at her side.
“Hmm…I think my grannie warned me about boys like you,” she said with a wink, but let him take the binder. “But you are kind of cute…”
“Cute?” Zee winced and shook his head. “I’m thirty-five. Give me something more than cute, for pity sake,” he laughed, leaning in and kissing her through her giggle.
“I happen to be quite fond of cute,” she stepped closer, her hands up and on his chest. “So should we get back so you can close the shop? I set some chicken out to make for dinner.”
“Carter called, Erika,” Zee stood up and took her palm, striding around the sports car to the door, opening it and waiting while she slid into the seat. “He’s filed the papers. Your mother was arrested and taken into custody at two-thirty.”
He waited. Watching her pull her lip between her teeth and nod.
“It was a nice Thursday,” she said quietly, taking the notebook from him. “I can’t think about it, Zee. And I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time there was a lull in the work or a meeting ended, she was there, looking at me. Asking me why I was doing this to her.”
“Has anyone tried contacting you?” Zee asked when he slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
“You put them all on ignore,” she peeked over at him, not a hint of remorse on his face when he guided them into the line of cars heading for the employee exit.
“That doesn’t mean they didn’t try.”
“My father and Adam,” she admitted with a sigh. “I feel like a coward, Zee. I’ve never been afraid of my parents before.”
He didn’t have an answer and just reached for her palm, offering a squeeze.
“Do you think people will know where I am? Obviously, not my parents since they already know. I mean reporters,” Erika had been watched the road as he drove. “I won’t let them hurt your business, Zee. I can move into temporary quarters on the resort.”
“And you think that’ll make me a happy camper?” He asked with just a hint of dry. “The way our society works, it’ll increase business a lot for a while and then it settles back to normal. I know Carter didn’t disclose your current home location. I don’t hide well, Erika. It’ll be alright.”
“You always seem confident. It’s annoying,” she grumbled, ignoring his laughter.
“I believe I may come to live to annoy,” Zee teased, laughing as he parked at the side of the building. “Let’s go into the shop for a bit then we can play with dinner upstairs. I’m thinking some nice grilled chicken and a big salad with crunchy, buttery, cheesy bread.”
“You’re making my stomach scream,” Erika wandered toward the shop entrance, a light wave at Kyle as he quickly came toward Zee.
“Company. I think they’re feds,” Kyle nodded to one of the back tables.
“They don’t look like reporters,” Erika felt her stomach give a lurch only this time it wasn’t for food.
“Finish cleaning up and go home, Kyle, thanks,” Zee did a quick glance around, the two suits now up and on their way toward them the only customers in the shop. “Get the blinds and flip the sign.”
“On it,” Kyle moved quickly to the front windows and doors without looking back.
“Something I can help you with?” Zee pulled a stool out and laid the notebook he’d been carrying for Erika on the counter. The restaurant owner in him did a quick inventory of the clean-up with a slight nod of approval.
“Erika Vincent,” the man leading, short clipped dark hair and somber eyes pulled a small leather case out, holding the identification for them both to see. “Paul Allton. My partner, James Powers. Is there some place private we can talk?”
“We can talk here,” Erika wrapped her hands around the tall glass of iced water Zee slid between her palms on the counter.
“Xavier Moore?” James Powers asked. “You don’t care if he’s here?”
“It’s his shop and I don’t have secrets,” she looked up from the water. “What do you want?”
“At the moment, we’re interested in your relationship with the senate candidate, Ross Richardson,” Paul Allton Pulled a chair out and leaned back, watching her.
Erika shrugged. “I don’t have a relationship with him.”
“But you do know him.”
“I know of him. I’ve seen his pictures and ads, if that’s what you mean. He doesn’t have any beliefs I can even remotely support or admire,” she looked from one to the other.
“You’re the FBI,” Zee said carefully. “What do you have to do with Richardson?”
“We’re on his security detail until after the election,” James explained. “Ordinarily, we’d take you in for questioning, Miss Vincent.”
“And you’re breaking with tradition, why?”
“Let’s just say something’s off,” Paul said thoughtfully. “You don’t know the candidate or his wife?”
“I said I don’t know them. If I’ve ever met them, it would have been at some event held at my parent’s house. I was living there while finishing up some extensive schooling. I wasn’t there much, I spent most of my time in dorms at the university and the last year, I’ve traveled around gathering information for the pharmacy we’re establi
shing,” she shook her head. “Sorry. But neither of them are familiar to me other than what I’ve seen on TV or signs.”
“What’s this about?” Zee turned and leaned against the counter.
“We have a complaint from Mrs. Melody Richardson that you’ve threatened her,” Paul Allton pulled a folded sheet of paper from an inside pocket of his suit.
“Me?” Erika straightened up. “I threatened her? I don’t know her. And I don’t go around threatening people, even if I know them.”
Zee looked down at the carefully printed note.
“I know your husband’s secrets. Prepare to pay for the privilege to keep them.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Zee laughed, looking from one to the other.
“And I was thoughtful enough to sign my first initial,” Erika exhaled slowly before looking up from the note. “Did you investigate me, Mr. Allton? My financials?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, first, I don’t involve myself in politics I don’t believe in and I can’t believe in their basic premises or arrogance. I honestly don’t care. Richardson is a candidate my parents support, not me. We are as far apart philosophically as two people could possibly get,” she leaned a little closer. “I work for the resort. That should have been your first clue as to my personal politics,” she told them with a wink.
“And you don’t care that Richardson is a wealthy man?” James Powers asked flatly.
“Nope.” Erika looked from one to the other with a puzzled frown. “You aren’t in agreement on how this should be handled.”
“That has nothing to do with this, Miss Vincent,” Paul said with an arched look at his partner.
“Everyone wants money, Miss Vincent,” James stated coldly.
“Not everyone buried their grandmother six months ago,” Erika began slowly. “I don’t need anything enough to threaten someone for it. I’ve been working toward the career I have for years and intend to work for a very long time. I don’t know why someone wants me implicated in this. I don’t know anyone who dislikes me that much.”
“Were you aware that Valerie Vincent was arrested this afternoon for drugging and abducting her own daughter?” Zee watched the absolute surprise flood the faces of both the agents. “I’m guessing you’re behind the curve. You can speak with Carter Shipley, he’s representing Erika.”
“Is that true, Miss Vincent?” Paul studied her closely.
“I work hard to deal only in truths, Agent. I suppose if you’re looking for someone who might want to discredit me, there’s a place to begin. I think there’s a very convoluted story you’re not privy to at the moment,” Erika sighed, her head shaking. “And believe me, if I knew all of it, I would share with you. But I don’t. I am not personally acquainted with either the candidate or his wife. I am or was, friends with Adam Wayne, who is a very close friend of the candidate.”
Zee watched two very different reactions. Anger hit James Powers and curiosity flared to light in Paul Allton’s eyes.
“You’re operating as security detail around Richardson, but you didn’t know about his friendship with Wayne? Or how involved the Vincent’s are with the candidate,” Zee pushed up from the counter. “And you don’t share the same political views. Interesting.”
“We’re not here to discuss us, Mr. Moore,” James Powers glared at him.
“You’re here with a bogus accusation without gathering all your facts. Or you’ve collected facts that appear to be less than accurate,” Zee commented with a shrug.
“Your connection to the candidate is through Adam Wayne,” Paul Allton said thoughtfully.
“I met Adam about four months ago,” Erika shrugged. “Around then. We were friends. I thought we were friends. We dated. I broke it off a little over a week ago.”
“And you’re here, living with Xavier Moore,” James looked from one to the other.
“If…it’s any of your business,” Erika ground her teeth together, pushing the words between her lips and ignoring the color in her face. “Adam and I were never more than friends. I did not share his bed or his politics. I never even kissed him. My father introduced us and I attended events with him because I was raised to be polite and considerate. So kindly get your mind out of the gutter and out of my personal and private life, Agent Powers. Now…I have dinner to work on,” she grabbed her case and strode toward the office without looking back.
“I think she’s angry,” Zee said quietly. “Which is something because I haven’t seen her that pissed before.”
“When Melody Richardson came to me yesterday, I thought something was off,” Paul Allton was up and pacing the floor. “My partner convinced me it was because I don’t care for them as people or their politics.”
“Never go against your own instincts,” Zee commented with a shrug, absently cleaning up the area and checking supplies. “I don’t envy you the job. Dealing with egos and hidden agendas. If you don’t have any further questions, I’ve got to get bread and salad for my part of our dinner.”
“If I need anything else, please let Miss Vincent know I’ll be in touch,” Paul extended his palm. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Zee took his hand and watched the pair go out the door before locking things behind them. With both hands full he carefully climbed the stairs into the apartment, the sound of pounding catching his attention. He felt for the poor chicken filets as the tenderizer fell repeatedly until she was satisfied. He stood back watching as she expertly cut the filets into strips and dropped them into a mixture of spices and flour in a plastic bag.
Zee went to the dining table, stopping when he looked out into the large oval of the patio. He carried the salad to the patio where she’d set up the table, complete with a checkered cloth that he hadn’t pulled from the closet in ages.
Erika stared into the sizzling olive oil, letting it get good and hot before dropping strips of chicken into it, stirring and adding more while Zee moved to the other unit and browned the thick planks of bread he’d brought from below.
She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to apologize for bringing the mess to his door, but knew he’d tell her it wasn’t her fault. They were her relatives. Her acquaintances. Didn’t that make it her fault by proxy?
“That’s a serious looking scowl,” Zee leaned against the counter at an angle he could watch the bread toast.
“It’s worse inside,” she said after a quiet minute, still stirring the chicken.
“We could run away to the South Pacific,” Zee suggested solemnly. “Find a deserted island and run around naked and tanned.” He pulled the bread out at the same time he saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “Or we could run around the apartment naked.”
“I’m seeing a theme,” Erika managed without laughing, easing the browned, spiced chicken to the paper towels and then onto a plate.
“I’m a guy. We’re all about the themes,” Zee carried the bread behind her to the patio and went back for the glasses and ice she had out on the counter. He filled his with a cold ale and hers with water.
“Really…and some of your other themes?” She scooped salad to her plate and dropped pieces of chicken on top before adding the creamy dressing she’d mixed up.
“I was thinking costumes.”
“Oh. Hmm…maybe naughty schoolgirl?”
“Definite possibilities,” Zee murmured. “Maybe sultan and his wicked slave girl.”
“Slave girl,” she repeated dubiously.
“Wicked slave girl,” he corrected with a wink.
“Guess I could ask Cat to loan me her cuffs for the night,” she almost laughed when he missed the bite on its way to his mouth. “But they’d leave marks. We need special cuffs.”
“Slave girls wear cuffs?” He asked cautiously.
“Slave boys do,” she corrected with a wink, sipping her water. “But…turnabout is fair play, I suppose. I’ve discovered I like exploring my sexuality with you, Zee.”
“Tomorrow is Friday. We can take the boat ou
t, Erika. Go to one of the islands and stay at a bed and breakfast and just leave the rest of it behind,” he wasn’t sure what triggered it, but the bright blue eyes were suddenly swimming.
Erika waved off the palm that came across the table and covered her hand.
“I’ve brought a big mess to your door, Zee. I’m sorry and don’t tell me it’s not my fault.”
“Evidently I have to remind you,” he answered, ignoring her words. “We can call it our summit to discuss costumes.” He quickly reached for the glass of water and held it for her, waiting until she was finished coughing. “Those drama classes could come in handy,” he told her with a wink.
“Why are you still single, Xavier Moore?” Erika waved her palm at him and leaned back in her chair after taking a bite of her salad.
“Never found a girl willing to play,” he answered honestly. He shrugged at the single arched brow. “Hmm…okay…that’s a lie. You meet lots of girls on the surf circuit. Lots of females in the military. I was one of the lucky ones and got security detail in South Korea. Not a lot of danger. But a lot of stupid young guys with more testosterone than brains. I spent more time tracking my fellow soldiers than anything else. It was an interesting four years but after the circuit surfing, I think I was dated out for a while.”
“When did you start surfing?” Erika slid one leg beneath the other and leaned on the table, her chin in the upturned palms.
“My dad was stationed in Hawaii when I turned three and by the time I was four, I was riding waves with them,” his grin was crooked as he drifted into his memories. “Best waves in the world out that way. I think I must have swallowed gallons of salt water that first year. I started entering competitions and it just kind of happened.”
“It happens with a lot of hard work, Zee,” she chided mildly. “How old were you when you stopped?”
“I racked up my knee when I was twenty-three and called it quits. Took four years in the Air Force and spent that time in South Korea. I stayed in Hawaii for a couple years but…” He shrugged. “Wanted something different. I have some friends here working the resort and decided to set up my shop here.”
WindSwept Narrows: #22 Erika & Vianne Page 14
