“How about some tea, then?”
“Sure,” I said.
“You wait out here.” He pointed to one of the wicker chairs. “I’ll be right back.”
So, I wasn’t going to be invited in. I can’t say that I blamed him. He returned a few minutes later with two tall glasses of iced tea and handed me one. I took a sip because my throat was dry. It was the sweetest sweet tea I’d had yet. It was so sweet I was afraid I would have to stop by the dentist on the way home if I drank it all.
“So, Chloe, why don’t you tell me what you want to know? And I’ll decide if I can help you out or not.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “I wanted to ask about Susan’s disappearance.”
He gave a slight nod, his face sad. “I got used to the idea she wasn’t coming back a long time ago. I knew she wouldn’t up and leave me. Ours was a great love story.” He sighed. “I guess even after all these years a tiny part of me hoped she’d find her way home.”
Once again I was leery about saying too much. Choosing my words carefully, I filled him in on my being on the boat. “Did you know Susan was planning on going out on the boat? Did she give you any indication that there might be trouble?”
“Not a thing. She’d been playing tennis with a group of friends and they decided to cool off by taking a quick boat ride. It was a beautiful evening. Not a cloud in the sky. The boat ride should have been a piece of cake.”
He confirmed what I already knew. “I’ve only lived here a few months, but I’m surprised at how quickly storms can blow in.”
“You’re right about that. Life is like that too. Everything’s all calm and then the hammer drops.”
I hated making him dredge up all these memories, but I wanted to help Ralph. “Why did you belong to the Emerald Cove Country Club instead of the one in Santa Rosa Beach?” I’d done my homework, and the Santa Rosa Beach Country Club was closer to Seaside than the one in Emerald Cove.
“I moved from Emerald Cove to Seaside about six months after Susan disappeared. I couldn’t stand to be around her things. It was a constant reminder of what I’d lost. So I bought this place and all its furnishings. That’s when I found out ghosts can follow a person.” He looked over at me. “I don’t mean an actual ghost like one would need a ghostbuster or priest for. I mean emotions, sentiments. Those don’t go away.”
I knew that all too well. Boone and I had been so close that sometimes I almost sensed him in the house when I watched TV, as if he’d just left the room or was going to walk in any minute.
“Do you have a theory as to what happened the night they disappeared?”
“I’d always assumed that they had some kind of engine trouble and sank. But with the boat showing back up, I guess I was wrong.”
“What about the others who were with her that night? Did any of them cause you any concern? Or did any of them have obvious enemies?”
Phillip leaned back, as if he wanted to distance himself from either me or the question. “‘Enemies’ is a strong word.”
CHAPTER 27
“It is,” I agreed.
He looked up at the ceiling of the porch. “I was surprised to hear Cartland was out on the boat that night.”
“Why’s that?”
“I never thought the Barnetts and Farwells got along.”
“Do the Barnetts get along with anyone?” Was family feuds their thing?
Phillip chuckled at that. “I can tell you know Vivi’s situation with the Barnetts. But lots of people get along with them just fine.”
“Including you?” I was being awfully pushy, but so far Phillip didn’t seem to mind.
“Including me.”
“No offense,” I started to say, then stopped. He seemed like a nice man. I really didn’t want to offend him.
“Whenever anyone says that I expect their next words are going to offend me. But please, go on.”
I smiled. “You’re right. I saw that you were a program manager for a defense contractor. It doesn’t seem like that would pay well enough to live in Seaside, or own a boat like the Fair Winds.”
I expected him to stand up and march back into his very expensive house. He didn’t.
“Did you know that the founders of Seaside originally dreamed of this being a place for teachers, artists, and writers? It’s become a playground for the wealthy instead.” He sipped his tea. “Most of the houses are rentals, with a smattering of permanent residents. But they opened a school that has been wildly successful, and built a nondenominational church. I’m lucky to live here. There’s so much to do right outside my door.”
“I didn’t know that. It sounds like they wanted a planned-out version of what Emerald Cove is.”
“You’re right on both things. I didn’t make enough money to afford this place. Susan had family money. We had plenty in savings and everything was in joint accounts, so I had access to it.” He took another drink of tea and almost smacked his lips in satisfaction. “I got more money after she was declared legally dead through trust funds and life insurance policies.”
“The police—” I started again.
“Questioned me endlessly, along with Ralph Harrison. They thought I killed them to have Susan’s money all to myself. They went so far as to suggest that I must have someone on the side. They accused Ralph of killing them so he could be with Delores. As far as I know, both are false narratives.”
The screen door opened, and a woman who looked to be in her late thirties came out. Was this the woman the police accused him of having on the side? “It’s almost time for our tennis match.” She looked me over and then went back inside.
“My third wife.” Phillip stood. “You have the same look on your face the police did when they found out I’d started dating again a year after Susan’s disappearance. But I found that a man with a house in Seaside and a fortune who is single is quite the commodity. I didn’t stay on the market, so to speak, for very long after Susan was declared legally dead. I had a brief marriage after that and now am married again.”
That explained the look the woman gave me—sizing me up as competition. It must not be a fun way to live. I had no interest in being the fourth Mrs. Phillip Harrington, but it made me wonder about Phillip. Was he a womanizer? Did he want to get rid of Susan so he could have her money and move on? He’d said they were a great love match, but it didn’t sound like it to me.
“I learned to play tennis and always be at my wife’s tennis games. Fool me once and all that.” He winked at me and picked up our iced tea glasses. Then he became more somber. “I hope this will somehow help Ralph out and finally find the people who took away my Susan and turned my life upside down.”
I watched as Phillip went back into the house, mulling over what he’d said. Phillip had a plausible reason for being able to live here in Seaside while some of his contemporaries were scraping by running businesses. I couldn’t stand here pondering. I had other people I wanted to talk to.
* * *
I stood on the dock at two and watched as the crew of one of Jed Farwell’s charters walked off the boat. They headed to an area where they would clean fish that had been caught and photograph their customers who’d fished if they wanted souvenir pictures. Jed often captained this boat, so I hoped he’d be walking off in a few minutes. I watched the fish get weighed and the excited chatter that followed.
Instead of asking someone if Jed was related to Blake, I decided to ask him myself. Pretty soon Jed trotted down the gangplank to the dock, some kind of paperwork in hand. He was lanky and energetic. On the rare evenings he came to the Sea Glass he had trouble sitting still. Jed would often pull out a bit of rope and tie knots, untie them, and repeat. Although he was in his seventies, like Vivi, he showed no signs of slowing down.
I walked over to him.
“Hey, Chloe. What brings you all the way here?”
I’d noticed lots of people said, “Hey” instead of “Hi” here. And often with a drawl that drew out the word. But not Jed. His hey was a
s brisk as he was. “All the way here” usually meant that I’d made the short walk from the Sea Glass to this side of the harbor. It wasn’t a big harbor at the point where it ended. Today I’d parked on this side—the north side—of the harbor, hoping that no one from the Sea Glass would spot me. “I wanted to ask you about something.”
He tilted his head toward the building that housed his operation. “Come on in with me. I need to drop off this paperwork.” He held up the sheaf of papers in his hand. “Have to file lots of reports these days about our catch.”
The building was small, with weathered, red siding. Inside it was only one room, with big windows that looked out over the harbor, the Sea Glass, and, finally, the Gulf. Not a bad place to work. Jed unlocked the door and gestured for me to go in first. Something Southern men did routinely, I’d found out.
“Want some coffee?” Jed asked. He gestured to one of those single-brew coffeepots where you plugged in a little cup.
“Sure. That sounds good.” Even though I’d just had iced tea and was jazzed up on sugar and caffeine, coffee felt sociable and might make my questions easier.
I watched as he moved to the machine. His arms were tanned and tattooed with anchors, swordfish, and boats. Jed moved with a certain grace and soon brought back two cups of coffee.
“What can I do for y’all?”
Even after living here for three months, I always felt as if I should look over my shoulder to see who was behind me when someone said, y’all. But down here y’all was often singular and all y’all was the plural, though sometimes y’all meant more than one person, so it was very confusing to a Northerner like me.
I wrapped my hands around the cup because they were suddenly icy. Just blurting out personal questions to someone I didn’t know well was uncomfortable. This is for Ralph, I reminded myself.
“You may have heard about my experience of being swept out to sea and finding the remains,” I said.
“ ’Course I did. Hard to keep something like that a secret. I was out on a party boat with a bunch of passengers when we heard you were missing.” Jed blew across the top of his mug and then took a sip. “We called off fishing and joined the search.”
“Oh. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you think a thing about it. Everyone was pretty durn excited to help out. That storm was comin’ up anyways, so we would have had to quit fishing. Yep. People used binoculars they’d brought. Others squinted. More false alarms of sightings of you than fish that day, and we get a lot of false fish sightings.” He settled back in his chair and clasped his hands over his stomach.
I squelched the urge to clear my throat, but stalled for another second by taking a sip of my coffee. “Since I found the remains, I’ve been reading up on what happened. A Blake and a Samuel Farwell were mentioned.”
“Samuel was my father, God rest his soul, and Blake my worthless brother. Sorry for speaking ill of the dead.” Jed glanced up as he said it, so I wasn’t sure if he was addressing me, his brother, or God. “Blake’s idea of working was networking at the country club or bars around town.” He used air quotes when he said networking. “He’d come in here and lord around every once in a while. But never did any real work.” Jed glanced down. “Good thing our mama didn’t live to see that.”
I’d never realized what a talker Jed could be. I’d thought heading over here that I’d have to pry information out of him. “Was he good friends with the people he went out with that evening?”
“Blake was everyone’s buddy and friend to none.”
I puzzled over that for a minute. “He acted friendly, but wouldn’t help anyone out?”
“Yep. He always ran around saying ‘The Lord helps those who help themselves.’ The man even twisted God’s own words. And that there tells you all you need to know.” Jed stood up.
I stayed seated even though it was obvious Jed wanted me to leave. I guess talking about his brother was painful. “I heard there was some kind of feud between your family and the Barnetts.”
Jed laughed. “Who told you that?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. If you call Blake being jealous of Cartland’s family money, connections, and looks a feud, I guess there was one. Blake once told me Cartland didn’t work hard. That from a man who barely worked.” Jed moved toward the door. “I’d be stupid to fight with an influential family like the Barnetts.”
I stood too. “Did you ever have any dealings with the law firm Green and Long out of Birmingham?” I asked.
Jed pursed his lips for a moment and then shook his head. “Not that I can think of. Always a lot of rumors about them.”
Not that I can think of wasn’t a no. “Thank you for your time.” The door opened just as I was about to reach for it. A younger version of Jed walked in. Only this one was dressed in slacks and a button-down, pale-pink shirt.
“My son,” Jed said with a wave toward us.
He gave me a saucy wink as I walked by, even though he was almost old enough to be my dad. I hoped he had more of his father in him than his uncle.
CHAPTER 28
Rip looked tired when he showed up at six. He handed me a bottle of Blanc de Blanc sparkling wine.
I led him out to the screened porch, where I’d set up appetizers of shrimp with my homemade, spicy cocktail sauce and bruschetta on a baguette I’d bought. He opened the wine and poured two glasses.
“Why don’t you sit while I get the grill started?” I suggested.
“Do you need any help?”
All kinds, but not with the grill. I was a master from watching my father for years. “No thanks. It will just take me a minute.” I’d found an old charcoal grill under the porch during the summer. I’d cleaned it up and cooked out on it several times. I’d dragged the grill away from the house and had already put the charcoal in to light.
“Okay, shout if you need anything. Firemen always love to play with fire.” His eyes twinkled.
My face warmed, as did the rest of me. The man was hard to read. I slipped outside while Rip relaxed on the love seat. I was glad he hadn’t insisted on helping or trying to take over the “manly” duties. He leaned back his head and closed his eyes. After I started the fire I went to get the tuna. Rip was asleep. His dark lashes rested on those beautiful cheekbones. He breathed deeply. Watching his chest rise and fall made me wonder if I needed to stick my head in the refrigerator to cool off every time he came to visit. I tiptoed past him, got the tuna, tiptoed back, and put the tuna on the grill.
The fish sizzled when it hit the heat, and the fire leaped. Quite the metaphor for how I was feeling. I’d seasoned it with lots of cracked black pepper, a little salt, and lemon. It didn’t need anything else. It wouldn’t take long to cook. Just a few minutes on each side, because overcooked tuna was tough and tasteless. Rip was still asleep when I came back to the screened porch. I slipped by him again and went to the kitchen. I plated the tuna with some grilled lemon slices and picked up the salad I’d made and carried both back to the porch.
Rip was sitting up, looking around as if he was confused. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yes. You did.” I put the tuna and salad on the small table and moved the untouched appetizers over too. “Let’s eat.”
“I apologize.” He stood and stretched. A tantalizing bit of his abs showed under his T-shirt.
I quickly glanced at the tuna to distract myself. “No need.” My voice came out a little wobbly. “Rough day?”
“And night.”
I tried to ignore the little prickles of jealousy, thinking about what a rough night meant for him. There was no doubt that legions of women had to be throwing themselves at him.
“We had a fire call at two thirty this morning and didn’t leave until seven. Then we were called to help with a fire over in Grayton Beach. It was just one call after the other most of the day.”
“You work a lot of hours for them,” I said.
“That’s part of the deal, being a volunteer. If there’s a call, you go,” he said.
“You should have told me. We could have postponed dinner.”
“I wanted to see you.”
Oooohhh.
“I heard about what happened here this morning. But I guess you know that with the number of messages I left on your phone.”
That’s right. There was a reason he was here. I wanted to grill not only the tuna, but him. Somehow rational thought had left me when Rip walked in. Focus. As we ate, I filled him in on what had happened.
“Why here?” he asked, looking out toward the beach as if there’d be some kind of answer.
“I don’t know, but it seemed deliberate, right?” I hoped he’d agree and didn’t think I was nuts.
“It does. I don’t like it.”
That was a relief. I wasn’t losing my mind. “I’m not thrilled about it either.”
“Did you see something on the boat the day you were on it that you haven’t told anyone?”
“Nothing. Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it on and off.” I took another bite of tuna and thought while I chewed. “It wasn’t as if there were drugs or cash around. Just the remains and Pippi. And neither of them had anything to say.”
“How’s Pippi?” he asked.
“She’s living happily with Vivi. We haven’t found her owner, even with all the lost-and-found posts I put up on social media.” I put down my fork. “The only thing of value I saw was the ring that Ralph said was from Raquel’s family. The Coast Guard have it as part of their investigation.”
Rip’s phone made a piercing sound. He grabbed it. “I’ve got to go. That’s the signal there’s a fire. Sorry I can’t stay. That I can’t help clean up.” He leaped up. “Everything was delicious.” He lingered for a moment, looking at me as if he was still hungry.
I almost didn’t get my that’s okay and thank you out before he was out the door and climbing into his car. I hadn’t even had a chance to ask him more about Green and Long or give him dessert.
* * *
At two on Monday afternoon Steve swanned in through the door like he owned the place, and maybe he did. Thankfully, Vivi wasn’t there. She was out buying supplies. A woman who was all pointy elbows and knees in a silver, metallic sheath dress came in with him. She carried a large satchel. Her obviously dyed black hair was pulled back in a tight bun that made my scalp hurt just looking at it. She looked down over a razor-sharp nose. Disdain shot from her like a force field from a Romulan ship in Star Trek. Shields up, phasers charged.
A Time to Swill Page 15
