by Mille West
“I’m sorry about your wife and daughter.”
“I am, too, but it was a long time ago.”
As Mills walked closer to the portraits, she began to realize an uncanny resemblance between herself and Mr. van der Wolf’s daughter. They had similar features: wavy dark brown hair and the same hazel-colored eyes.
“What was your daughter’s name?”
“Lydia. I can still hear her voice, see her smile.”
He gazed at her, and then said, “I have a donation for the Heath Foundation. Please accompany me back into the drawing room.”
Following him into the room, he handed her an envelope. “This is to help with scholarships, and it should make Mr. Heath very happy. It has been a pleasure having you in my home this afternoon and I hope to see you again.”
She placed the envelope in her purse and shook his hand while thanking him. “Mr. Heath is going to have an oyster roast at his farm the first Saturday in February, and I’m sure that he’d like for you to attend.”
“Thank you for the generous offer, but I’m afraid I don’t get out too often—Miss Taylor, don’t be a stranger.”
He pushed a button on his desk, and Mr. Cook reappeared, leading her to the front of the house. Opening the door for her, he said, “Have a nice afternoon, Miss Taylor, and we hope to see you again soon.”
Walking a short distance on Wentworth Street before opening the envelope, she was stunned to find a check to the Julia Heath Foundation for $25,000.
That evening, Mills penned a thank you note to Mr. van der Wolf, acknowledging his generous gift. She had reached one conclusion about him: he suffered from the unfortunate human condition known as loneliness.
Admittedly, she was eager to meet Jeff Radcliffe on Thursday. Mills had never been sailing, and she awaited their date with great anticipation. Cooper and Anne were even-keeled, so she expected Jeff to be like them.
Just before one in the afternoon, Mills arrived at the city marina. Jeff had not shown up yet, so she waited for him in the lobby. At least fifteen minutes passed before she saw a silver Yukon pull into the parking lot. Jeff hastily exited the car. When he entered the building, he immediately came in her direction. “Mills, I’m sorry I’m late. I hope that you’ll forgive me.”
He took her hands in his and smiled broadly. His blue-green eyes seem to pierce right through me.
“I had a real estate closing to attend and the attorney received some of the mortgage documents late, which caused a delay. Can I get you something to drink while we wait on my friends? They’re going to be late.”
“Some friends of yours are joining us?”
“Yes, I hope you don’t mind. I sail with them often.”
“No, of course I don’t mind—and I’d love some hot tea.”
“Coming right up.”
Entering the Marina’s Club Quarters, Jeff ordered hot tea and a scotch and soda, and they sat down at a table in front of the boat slips. There was a large array of watercraft moored at the docking system, from Sunfish boats to transatlantic yachts. A waitress brought their drinks, and Jeff asked, “How did Cooper find such a lovely, talented young woman to help him with his foundation?”
“Thank you, Jeff. Cooper and my former employer are old friends from the Air Force Academy, and Cooper asked Harry to find a director to run the foundation.”
“Ah, someone from the outside, someone who wouldn’t judge Cooper on the negative information that’s been in the media for the last six months. I can’t blame him—you know he’s very private and rarely discusses his business. I suppose that’s how he’s made himself so wealthy. If he ever discloses any investment strategies, I want you to share them with me. We’ll both make money.” He smiled as he sipped his drink. “How’s the endowment business going?”
“I’m very excited. This week, we had a substantial donation from a local businessman.”
“Who was that?”
“Piet van der Wolf.”
“Piet van der Wolf,” he said slowly. “Does Cooper know about his gesture?”
“No, I thought I would tell him in person when he returns from Newark.” Jeff appeared to be deep in thought with her mention of Piet van der Wolf, but then he turned to her and said, “I’m glad that you could meet me here today.” As he placed his glass on the table, she noticed his wristwatch, an impressive Rolex Presidential. Cooper wears a Timex.
A couple entered the Club Quarters, and Jeff raised his arm up to signal his friends. As they approached, Jeff stood and introduced Mills to Abigail and Irving Sellers.
“Sorry we’re late,” Irving responded, shaking Jeff’s hand. “Well, are we ready to launch?”
As they walked on the boardwalk, Jeff pointed out his boat to her, a sleek Hunter model. The Sellers were familiar with his sailboat, and Jeff started the motor, moving the vessel away from the slip. Once they were a comfortable distance from other watercraft, Jeff and Irving rigged the sails and maneuvered through Charleston Harbor. The afternoon winds were brisk and cold, but the smell of salt air invigorated her. Mills watched as they trimmed the sails and steered the craft. Wow, they’re excellent sailors.
Abigail went below into the cabin and returned with four shot glasses of bourbon, passing them out to each person. “Here’s to Mills, welcome to Charleston, and to great success with the education foundation!” They raised their glasses, toasted her, and then downed their bourbon immediately, except for Mills, who found the alcohol too strong to drink all at once.
“Jeff, how about something a little stronger?” Abigail suggested.
“Mills, here’s your first sailing lesson,” Jeff said smiling at her. “The winds are steady. Come up here and steer the boat. I’m going in the cabin for a few minutes. Irving—give her a hand if she needs it.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” Irving responded.
She walked to the helm and took the wheel.
“You see that structure off in the distance? That’s Fort Sumter. There’s not another boat out here. Just steer for the fort and you’ll be fine.”
Jeff and Abigail descended into the cabin and when she returned, she was smiling and laughing. Without any discussion, Irving went into the cabin, and, like Abigail, he was below for a few minutes before returning to the deck.
“Jeff is waiting for you,” he told her, as he offered to steer the craft.
As she descended into the cabin, she noticed lines of cocaine set out on a table. Jeff came behind her and gathered her hair to hold it back.
“I wanted to offer you some of our coke.”
I can’t believe they’re doing drugs and operating a sailboat! “Jeff, I don’t want to. Bourbon is strong enough for me.”
He released her hair and arranged it for her. “If you change your mind, there’s plenty left.” He then put his arm around her, kissing her on the cheek. “Okay, Captain Taylor, you can return to the deck and keep us from hitting The Battery.” Once on deck, Jeff told Irving, “Mills is going to skipper.”
“I don’t know about this,” Mills said. She realized her hands were shaking.
“I’ll help you,” Jeff responded.
“Are you sure you’re able to help me?”
Jeff laughed. “Come on Mills—I’m fine.”
She went to the helm and sat down on the seat beside Jeff. Over an hour went by as Mills commanded the boat, receiving instructions from Jeff. Jeff looked at his watch. “Okay, folks, I’ve got an appointment in Mount Pleasant later this afternoon, so let’s take her in.”
When they returned to the marina, Jeff easily maneuvered the sailboat into the slip. He took Mills aside and thanked her for joining him, then added that she should shoot sporting clays with them on Saturday afternoon.
“Thank you for asking me, but Cooper has already issued an invitation.”
“Then I’ll look forward to seeing you on Saturday.”
Jeff is nothing like Cooper . . .
Saturday morning, Mills knocked on Cooper’s kitchen door before ten in the morning. He had returned from New York and after a few moments, he answered the door. “Greetings, Mills, I was just about to have coffee. Why don’t you join me?”
The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee lingered in the air and she breathed in the rich scent. As he poured a cup of coffee for her, he asked, “How was your week?”
“I received the first donation to the foundation and I’ve been excited to tell you about it.” Eager to see his reaction, she put an envelope on the table that contained the van der Wolf gift.
“Wonderful, Mills,” he told her, as he opened the envelope.
Watching his face with anticipation, she was astonished when he did not smile, but slowly said, “Piet van der Wolf.”
“Is there something wrong?”
Quickly changing his demeanor, he smiled as he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, please forgive my reaction. Your work is excellent, and I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Rising from his chair, he gave her a pat on the shoulder before reminding her, “Don’t forget about shooting with us this afternoon. Jeff, Britton, and my attorney, Murphy Black, will be here after lunch.”
At two, Mills walked toward Cooper’s house, and she could hear voices from the front porch. Standing beside Cooper was a man dressed in shooting attire; looking serious and intellectual, he wore oval glasses and his thick, sandy-brown hair was parted to the side.
Cooper called out to her, “Please join us on the porch. I’d like for you to meet my attorney, Murphy.”
Mills walked up onto the porch and shook his hand. “Miss Taylor, I’ve heard so much about you, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I enjoyed the artwork on the invitation to the oyster roast, and yes, I will be attending.” He had a southern drawl that sounded sophisticated. I bet he wears a seersucker suit with a bowtie when he appears in court.
After Britton arrived, they went inside the house to the kitchen; Cooper asked Mills to join him in the hunting room. “This is the shotgun that you used when we went duck hunting, and I think this shooting vest will fit you.”
The fit was perfect, and she returned to the kitchen with Cooper, her shotgun case in hand.
Just as they were about to leave the house, Jeff appeared at the kitchen door and apologized for his lateness. “I had an appointment to show a house to a client, but he was late. Sorry, folks.” As soon as he saw Mills in the room, Jeff smiled and said, “I’m glad that you could shoot with us.”
“I don’t know if I can hit anything, but I’ll try.”
“You don’t need to worry about hitting the sporting clays. We’ve been taking Murphy hunting for years, and he still can’t hit a thing. We haven’t kicked him out yet.”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Jeff.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, Murphy.”
Jeff opened the kitchen door for them to leave when the doorbell rang. Cooper excused himself and went to the front of the house. Upon returning, he took Murphy aside and asked Jeff to take his Suburban and drive Mills and Britton to the shooting range.
“Who is it, Cooper?” Jeff asked.
“It’s Lieutenant Barnes with the Charleston County Police Department.” Mills looked toward the foyer and a well-built man with a receding hairline stood in the doorway of the kitchen. He was grinning at them with a look of curiosity on his face. While he was dressed in a dark business suit, a policeman’s badge graced the front of his coat.
“Well, it’s the trust account boys getting ready to shoot—a sport for the rich and infamous—Cooper, you must introduce me to the young lady who is joining you. Miss Taylor?”
He already knew her name and walked forward to shake her hand. Cooper introduced them to one another, and Lieutenant Barnes added, “Miss Taylor, I wish you great success in your endeavors.”
Cooper is handling this with a cool head, but Jeff looks angry.
“Lieutenant, Murphy and I are going to join you in the study. I believe you know where it is.”
“Sorry, Cooper, I didn’t mean to spoil the party.”
“Jeff, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Cooper said, nodding for him to leave. As Jeff motioned for Mills to join him, she looked back with concern toward Cooper; noticing her expression, he calmed her by saying, “It’s okay—I’ll join you shortly.”
When the trio reached the sporting clay range, Mills was invited to shoot first and the two men helped her with her technique. Britton’s shyness was diminished as he gave her advice. As Jeff launched one bird after another, her shooting improved to the point where she began to hit most of the targets.
The sound of an unusual combustion engine was coming in their direction, and an old Land Rover appeared in the pasture. When the vehicle came to a stop, Cooper and Murphy got out of the vehicle with their gun cases.
“Where did you get that?” Mills asked.
“I had it delivered from England last year. I keep it stored in the equipment shed. It’s not licensed to drive on the highways, so I drive it around the farm.”
“Have you ever seen the movie, The Gods Must Be Crazy?”
“No, I don’t believe so.”
“There’s a vehicle in that movie called the ‘Anti-Christ.’ It looks just like your Land Rover—that’s my favorite movie.”
“I’ll have to watch it sometime.”
“Everything all right?” Britton inquired.
“Yes, I’ve already answered the questions that he asked today.”
For the next couple of hours, they took turns at shooting sporting clays, and while Britton and Cooper were talented marksmen, she noticed that Jeff was an expert, not missing one shot.
Mills leaned against Cooper’s Land Rover, and Murphy joined her. “Well, Mills, I think you’re a better shot than me, and you just started. Maybe I should get my eyes evaluated,” he chuckled.
They watched Britton as he fired his gun, and she asked, “Is Cooper okay? He doesn’t seem to be upset by the policeman’s visit.”
“If he was, you’d never know it. He’s one of those people who has the rare talent of maintaining composure under pressure. He always has.”
Jeff called out to Murphy and Mills, “I think we’re finished shooting.”
“Is it time for a porch party?” Murphy asked.
“What does that mean?” Mills inquired.
“You’ll see.”
“Cooper, can I drive the Land Rover back to your house?” Mills asked.
“You do use a clutch in that Beetle, don’t you? Well, get in, and I’ll check you out.”
The Land Rover had a right-side steering wheel, and Mills found it difficult to put the old machine in first gear. When she released the clutch, the vehicle lurched forward, and she didn’t fare much better with second gear.
“I’m embarrassed. This is more challenging than I thought it would be.”
“You’re doing fine. Just park the ‘Anti-Christ’ in front of the house.”
When they reached the front courtyard, Mills parked the Land Rover and asked, “Did I beat you to death?”
“No, you just need a little practice on changing the gears. Drive it anytime you want. I leave the keys in it.”
As she started to return her shooting vest to him, he told her, “That’s yours. I bought it for you while I was in New York last week.”
“Thank you, but I really shouldn’t accept it.”
“Mills, it’s just a hunting vest. It’s yours.”
“All right—but how did you know my size?”
“I described you to the sales clerk at Holland and Holland. She suggested this vest.”
“You must have given her an accurate description. It fits perfectly.”
“Please join us on the porch. We’re going to have drinks and talk.”
“I’m not sure I should be joining you and your friends for drinks.”
“Mills—I don’t know what customs you’re used to, but please set aside any misgivings. I would consider myself rude for excluding you.” She nodded and joined him on the porch. Mills quickly discovered that the porch party was a friendly forum to discuss current events. Cooper poured her a glass of wine while the others drank beer or bourbon.
