LOWCOUNTRY BOOKSHOP

by Susan M. Boyer

  “But Phillip was happy, right?” asked Nate.

  “I’ve never seen him so happy in my entire life.” Daniel studied his glass, looked perplexed. “Phillip wasn’t stupid. Hard to believe he was taken in by her.”

  “Did you try to talk him out of marrying her?” I asked.

  Daniel screwed up his face. “You knew Phillip. He was pig-headed as they come. But no, I’m sorry to say. I really didn’t. I figured he was a big boy. Who was I, after all, to give him advice? He could make his own decisions. I figured maybe I had it wrong. Maybe it would work out. If not, it would cost him a great deal of money before it was over. I did tell him to get a prenup. Wouldn’t hear of it. Said it would be an insult to her—to their love. I should’ve tried to talk him out of it. I never dreamed it would cost him his life. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

  “Come on now,” said Nate. “It’s not your fault. That’s crazy talk.”

  “Most beautiful women like to have their pictures taken,” said Daniel. “Happy to strike a pose for the camera. Not this one. You’d think she was from one of those cultures where they believe the camera steals your soul or some rot. Pathologically averse to having her picture taken.”

  I mulled that. She had avoided being in the photos on the blog, for sure. But there were photos of her and Phillip online—charity events and the like—though they were scarce compared to those of Phillip by himself.

  “I felt really bad for poor Mallory today,” said Nate. “Is she coming by tonight?”

  “Mallory?” Daniel’s face changed subtly, softened. He looked at his glass. “No, I don’t think so.” He took a long drink.

  “She went to high school with y’all, right?” I asked.

  “S’ right,” said Daniel. “We knew her from the time she was in kindergarten. I was in first grade, Phillip in third. I think she loved my brother from that point on.”

  “She’s a beautiful girl,” said Nate.

  “Isn’t she?” said Daniel. “I can’t imagine why Phillip never thought so. Well, that’s not fair. He was a red-blooded man, after all. He had to see she was beautiful, didn’t he?”

  “Undoubtedly, he did,” said Nate.

  “Said he thought of her as a sister,” said Daniel. “But I’m not so sure.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “If you’re not getting love at home…” Daniel gave me a knowing look over the rim of his glass. “Sometimes you take it where you can find it. Couldn’t blame him.”

  “You think Phillip and Mallory…” I sipped my club soda.

  “Could be,” said Daniel. “Poor Mallory. She wanted so badly to be Mrs. Phillip Drayton. I don’t think she ever got over it. Still single.” He drained his glass again, then rose to refill it. He looked at Nate.

  “I’m good.”

  “Suzy, you ready for a vodka tonic?” asked Daniel.

  “Why not?”

  “Exactly.” Daniel slurred the word. “Why the hell not?”

  He returned in a moment and handed me a glass.

  “Thank you.” I set the club soda down and pretended a sip of the vodka. “Were any of your sister-in-law’s family in town for the service?”

  Daniel made his signature noise again. “They couldn’t be bothered. Of course, we’ve never met any of those people.”

  “Really?” I asked. “She and Phillip were married for more than five years. They never came to Charleston?”

  “Not once. Oh, she went to Chicago once or twice a year to see them. Said they didn’t fly, her parents. You’d think the brother would at least get on a plane. I don’t know who’s in worse shape, me—I have no family left at all—or the ice queen. She has family, but they clearly want nothing to do with her. Maybe they’re just as cold as she is.”

  “It’s all so very sad,” I said.

  “Tommy, you remember Chandler Manigault, don’t you? He was the same year as you at Duke.”

  “Of course,” said Nate.

  “Old family friend,” said Daniel. “He and Vivian, his wife—d’you know her?” Daniel pivoted his head to me.

  “Yes, I think so.” I looked at Nate, as if he might confirm such a thing.

  “Vivian, yes. Lovely girl,” said Nate.

  An odd look crossed Daniel’s face. “They were out of town and missed the reception at Stuhr’s. Spoke to him briefly this morning. They’re coming by. Should’ve already been here, come to think of it.” The crease in his forehead deepened.

  Was Vivian not a lovely girl at all? Was a memory surfacing that was at odds with something about our appearance or our story?

  I set down the vodka tonic and rubbed my temples.

  “Darling, are you all right?” asked Nate.

  “I’m afraid the vodka wasn’t the best idea,” I said.

  “The headache is back?” asked Nate.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Nate stood, set down his glass. “Daniel, I’m afraid we’ll need to continue this another time.”

  “Right.” Daniel climbed unsteadily out of his chair. “Terribly sorry. Probably my fault. Shouldn’t’ve given her the drink.”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I should’ve known better. Thank you for your hospitality. I would like to come back when we can see the house.”

  “Of course,” said Daniel. “Anytime. You have my number, right?”

  “You know, I don’t think I do,” said Nate.

  “I’ve had the same cell number since I was twelve.” Daniel screwed up his face.

  “Me too, but I’m afraid I’ve had quite a few new cell phones since college,” said Nate. “My number may be the same, but I’ve lost all my contacts at least twice—before everything was in the cloud.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Daniel. “Happened to me too. Here.” He grabbed his phone from a table in the foyer. “Give me your number and I’ll text you mine.”

  Nate recited his number and they completed the exchange.

  Daniel opened the door to see us out. “Do call me now. We’ll see the house and maybe go to dinner. Maybe Chandler and Vivian can come as well. Have you been to FIG?”

  “Love it,” I said. “Let’s plan on it.”

  “Good night, love.” Daniel hugged me bye. “Tommy.” He clasped Nate’s hand then pulled him into a hug.

  Nate clapped him on the back and we waved as we walked away.

  When we turned the corner at Meeting Street, Nate said, “Who do you suppose are the real people he thinks we are?”

  “I have no idea. I mean, clearly he remembers a couple that he and Phillip ran around with in college, and whoever it was, they didn’t show up for the funeral.”

  “I feel bad for the guy,” said Nate.

  “Yeah, me too,” I said. “But I wonder…”

  “What?”

  “I think Daniel is in love with Mallory.”

  FIFTEEN

  We took the first ferry back to Stella Maris the next morning. Rhett greeted us at the bottom of the front porch steps at 7:00 a.m. Nate went on inside while I petted and babied Rhett for a few minutes, then gave him a treat. “Let me change and we’ll go for our run, all right boy?”

  He barked his consent.

  I hurried up the steps and through the front door, climbed the stairs, and dashed down the hall to our bedroom. From the bathroom came the sound of Nate enthusiastically singing “Cheeseburger in Paradise.” When I stuck my head in, he was tying his shoes. I stepped into our walk-in closet to get my running clothes. Rhett was waiting for us downstairs.

  As much as I wished things were different and Nate and I could start a family of our own, I knew that would mean a career change for me. There was no way I could keep the schedule I did with children. It was bad enough I didn’t give Rhett nearly the attention I would’ve liked.

  He never went w
ithout, mind you. For times when we were gone overnight, or got tied up, the automatic feeder and filtered water reservoir in the mudroom saw that he had what he needed. And the doggie doors on the walk-thru into the garage and at the door leading into the mudroom at the top of the steps made sure that he could come and go as he pleased. If we were out of town more than one night, Blake or Merry came by. But there was no substitute for interaction with me and Nate, and I was hyper-aware of that.

  Children would be a whole nother thing. My mind turned again to the recurring nightmare, the two children Nate and I carried with us as we ran from the storm. The boy was about five, the girl maybe three. She was named Emma Rae—for my grandmother. I wasn’t able to have children. Merry and I both had aggressive cases of endometriosis leading to hysterectomies a few years back. But Nate and I could surely adopt. Colleen had told me not to take the dream literally. But was I meant to have children? Even if they might die with us in a horrific storm?

  A shimmery, gold-flecked cloud appeared with me in the closet. After a moment, Colleen appeared. “You cannot live your life in fear.”

  “I don’t know how not to be afraid of what you’ve shown me—all that you’ve told me.” I shook my head. “Giant storms, earthquakes, tsunamis—good grief, Colleen. Of course I’m afraid.”

  “You know I’m still learning this job, right?”

  “Seems to me like you’re getting pretty good at it,” I said. “But I wish you’d be a bit more forthcoming at times. For example, who—”

  “Later.” She sent tiny golden sparks flying from her fingertips to shush me.

  It worked. I sat on the tufted stool in the closet.

  Colleen said, “You know my primary job is protecting the people on this island—keeping the population to a level that can be safely evacuated in case of emergency.”

  I nodded.

  She lowered her eyes. “Well, maybe I went overboard with that dream. With some of the things I’ve told you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I planted that image of one of several alternate scenarios in your subconscious to make sure I had your attention—to make sure you understood on a personal level why we have to control development on Stella Maris. The consequences of letting the population rise are catastrophic. But I never meant for that to be a recurring nightmare. Once it was in your mind, well…I can’t erase it from your subconscious. And now, normal summer tropical activity is about to give you a nervous breakdown.”

  “But I thought we needed to prepare for a major storm.”

  “We do. We need to stay prepared. Because there will always be storms and natural disasters. The things we can control—like population, supplies, storm shutters, building codes—those things we need to focus on, and for that, I need your help along with the rest of the town council. I have to keep the town council one that cares more about people than money.”

  “I understand all that, but—”

  “You have to let go of what you can’t control,” said Colleen. “No one—not one living soul on this planet is guaranteed that they’ll spend tomorrow here. Sure, some will pass through a storm from this world to the next. Some will travel via car accident, or illness. Focus on shining the light wherever you can and let God worry about the big picture. You cannot live in fear. Fear is the first step down a dark path. You are meant to walk in the light.”

  “The children…”

  “That’s your decision. Yours and Nate’s. It always has been, and always will be. There’s no right or wrong answer.”

  “But if we adopt children, and then they suffer because of it.”

  Colleen gave me a sad smile. “This world is a beautiful, magical place. But it’s also imperfect. There will always be suffering. You can’t choose not to love because bad things happen. You can’t cover the people you love in bubble wrap and keep them safe. Adopt children if you want children. Or give that love somewhere else. But stop living in fear. There is no fear in love. Love drives out fear.”

  A silvery aura appeared around her and she faded away.

  I inhaled slowly, exhaled. For a few moments, I sat there, just breathing. Finally, I pulled on my running clothes and headed downstairs.

  We ran our five miles and played Frisbee with Rhett on the beach. I felt lighter than I had in a long while. Then we went inside and got cleaned up. I fixed us each a glass of Cheerwine and met Nate in my office. We both settled into the sofa and sipped as we reviewed the possible narratives on the case board.

  Poppy: accidentally hit Phillip Drayton

  Poppy: intentionally hit Philip Drayton Mrs. Drayton’s accomplice

  Vigilante: protecting Mrs. Drayton

  Unknown motives

  Unknown Subject: accidentally hit Phillip Drayton and fled

  Unknown Subject: intentionally hit Phillip Drayton and fledMrs. Drayton’s accomplice

  Vigilante: protecting Mrs. Drayton

  Unknown motives

  “I think we have a few additional possibilities.” I walked to the case board and picked up a marker.

  “Yep.” Nate rubbed his forehead. “I wish we could eliminate some.”

  “Honestly, I think we can eliminate Poppy altogether.”

  “I just don’t think we’re there yet.”

  “We need to check in with her,” I said. “I know she’s nervous. Maybe I’ll do that afterwhile.”

  “All right. So, Mallory Lucas was in love with Phillip Drayton. I say that makes her a suspect.”

  I sighed. “Agreed.” I added Mallory Lucas to the list of possible suspects, with a motive of jealousy. “We need to find out where she was on the night Phillip was killed. And what she drives.”

  Nate sat on the sofa, picked up his laptop. A few minutes later her said, “An Audi S5 Cabriolet convertible. Red.”

  “Hard to confuse that with a white SUV. But she could’ve rented one.”

  “Agreed. And I agree with you. Daniel Drayton is in love with Mallory, which gives him a motive to kill his brother, especially given he suspected they were having an affair.”

  “Yep,” I said. “He thought his brother was treating her badly, should have married her instead of Anne Frances. So, he’s mad at him—it’s clear he loved his brother—but he thinks Mallory deserves to be treated better.” I added Daniel Drayton to the board, also with a motive of jealousy.

  Nate said, “If you’re going in to check on Poppy, why don’t I run down Mallory’s alibi?

  “How are you going to play that?” I asked.

  “Trickery. I texted our buddy Daniel a link to an article on a boutique bourbon I think he might like. Embedded in that link is that handy little piece of code that allows us to do fun things with his cell phone.”

  A smile crept up my face. “Perfect.” We could now turn Daniel’s phone into a listening device and access anything stored on it, including his contacts.

  “I’m going to call Mallory,” said Nate, “identify myself as an associate of Detective Ravenel’s. I will absolutely not state that I’m his partner or a member of the Charleston Police Department. If she draws that conclusion, well…” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll ask her to meet me, someplace public. I’m going to tell her that Anne Frances used her as an alibi.”

  “Nice. You’re going to need a disguise. She saw you at the funeral home. And you can’t discount that we might have the occasion to see Daniel again, and she’ll be there.”

  “I’m aware. You’re not the only one who can go incognito, you know.”

  I made a face. “Are you putting that black gel stuff in your hair?”

  “It’ll wash right out.”

  “It better. We’ve got Wednesday night dinner at Mamma and Daddy’s tonight.”

  Nate rubbed his face with his hands, didn’t say a word.

  “Speaking of Sonny,” I said, “he may have checked Danie
l’s alibi. Maybe check with him on that?”

  “Will do.”

  I headed back into Charleston on the 11:00 a.m. ferry to track down Poppy. Nate would take the noon trip across the water. We avoided being seen together in costume unless we were both disguised. We lived in a small town—people could get the wrong idea.

  Once on the lower part of the peninsula, where most of Poppy’s route was, I did a grid search for her. I found her truck parked under the shade of a live oak tree near Washington Square, on Chalmers Street, a picturesque cobblestone lane that ran between State and Meeting.

  She was looking down and jumped when I knocked on the window. She raised and lowered her shoulders in a sigh and rolled down the window. “Liz. You scared me. Did you lose my phone number?”

  “No, I’m so sorry, Poppy, but I needed to show you something. You hanging in there?”

  “I’m okay.” She smiled. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re trying to help me, and I snapped at you. I was just having my lunch and reading a little bit. What did you need to show me?”

  I pulled out my phone, opened my camera roll, and scrolled to the photos of Jacynthe, Sofia, Emma, and Mallory. “I know you know Mrs. Hathaway. But do you know any of these ladies? None of them are on your route.”

  She laid down her sandwich on a paper towel and took my phone. She showed me Jacynthe’s photo. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her before. I’m not sure where. Wait, she’s a tour guide. She leads the ghost tours at Buxton Books sometimes. A few of the others, I think. She’s a sweet lady.”

  “Okay. If you think of anywhere else you might’ve seen her, let me know.”

  She swiped to the next photo. Sofia. “Her I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.”