Oh, well, that was a lovely thought. “What about with Barbie?” Initially I wasn’t going to push him too far on the issue. He was drunk enough that I figured he’d barely remember he didn’t know me and proceed to babble. “Did you feel that way with her?”
Instead of immediately responding, Gus made a face. “Did I feel what way with her?”
My footing turned shaky. “I … um … well, I heard there might have been a thing between the two of you.”
“Did you now?” Gus’s unhappiness was obvious as he straightened on the stool. “And where did you hear that? Did Galen Blackwood tell you that? Did he tell you that I had an affair with Barbie and that somehow made it okay for my daughter to die? Is that what he told you?”
It was a mistake to confront him. I realized that now. But it was too late to turn back. “He didn’t tell me that.” I swallowed hard. “He never mentioned any of it. I heard other people on the island gossiping.” That wasn’t a total lie. Lilac was “other people” and she certainly liked to gossip. “Galen never said one thing about you and Barbie. Please don’t think he did.”
Gus scowled as he tipped back his glass and drained it. “I need another, Lilac,” he barked, still glaring.
“I’m on it, Gus.” Lilac’s expression was sympathetic as she strode to the end of the bar and grabbed the empty glass. “Are you sure you want to keep doing this? You seem a little tipsy.”
“I’m sure I want you to mind your own business and fill my glass,” Gus shot back. “I didn’t come here to be judged.”
“No one is judging you.” Lilac shot me a brief look. “As for the story about you and Barbie, don’t take it out on Hadley. That story has been going around the island for years. You know that as well as anybody. Given everything that’s happened … well, people can’t stop themselves from talking.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s true.” Gus was bitter as he watched Lilac fill a glass. “I never had an affair with Barbie. I know that story was going around, but it’s not true.”
“Then I believe you.” Lilac was sympathetic as she handed Gus a fresh drink. “I’m sorry if the gossip upsets you. Moonstone Bay does gossip better than most places.”
“Yeah. That’s why I hate it here.” Gus took a big gulp, the corners of his eyes leaking. “I never had an affair with Barbie. I mean … does she even look like my type? Plus, even if I could get past the looks I could never get past her attitude. If you ask me, Henry started that story around the time of the divorce because he wanted to drum up island ill will and point it at me.”
I couldn’t help being surprised, and looked to Lilac for confirmation. “Is that possible?”
Lilac shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time this island has gotten things wrong when it comes to the coconut phone gossip line.”
“The worst part was when people started saying I was Ashley’s father,” Gus grumbled. “Ashley and Trish were already friends by then and it put a strain on their relationship. Henry didn’t want them hanging out, but I was secretly relieved. Do you want to know why?”
“Because it meant they would end the feud and you wouldn’t have to expend effort to do it yourself,” I automatically answered, causing Gus’s eyes to widen.
“That’s exactly right.” Gus bobbed his head. “I thought they would put an end to all of it. Instead, Ashley put an end to my baby.”
My heart almost broke at the look on his face as he took another drink. He was a man mourning hard. I didn’t understand that in practice but I did in theory. I didn’t know my mother enough to miss her. She was simply gone from the start. I mourned her in my own way, though, because I recognized something was missing. I didn’t know May to mourn her, yet I felt odd pangs of regret all the time when thinking about her.
For someone like Gus, someone who loved his daughter and hoped she’d be able to do the one thing he couldn’t, the loss had to be crippling. I understood why he was drinking himself into oblivion in the middle of the afternoon. It was easier than carrying the emotional burden reality wanted to foist upon him.
“I’m sorry about Trish’s death,” I offered after a beat. “Are you sure that Ashley killed her, though? I’m not saying I doubt you or anything. I’m simply asking if you’re sure.”
Gus was morose instead of furious when he snagged my gaze. “The police are sure.”
I knew better, but kept that knowledge to myself. “Well, I know things won’t get better for you, but I hope you at least start to feel less lost.” I awkwardly patted his hand. “I’m sure Trish wouldn’t want you drinking your days away.”
Gus snorted. “My daughter wasn’t perfect. She was a good girl, but she would be happy to know that her death crushed me to the point where I couldn’t function. That’s simply who she was.”
“It kind of is,” Lilac agreed, a whiskey bottle in hand as she moved toward Gus’s glass. “I called a cab, by the way. It’ll be waiting on standby when you’re done, Gus. Just let me know when you’ve hit your limit.”
“Thanks, Lilac.” Gus watched her pour him another drink. “I keep hoping I’ll get so drunk that when I wake up this will all have been a dream.”
I understood the inclination, but recognized he wanted a miracle that was never going to happen. “You should take some aspirin, too,” I suggested. “You’re going to feel terrible tomorrow.”
“I’m going to feel terrible regardless. The alcohol has nothing to do with that.”
I sighed. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
12
Twelve
I listened to Gus complain for a full two hours, waiting until he slurred so badly that I couldn’t understand a single thing he said. Lilac waved me off when I offered to help her load him into a cab, saying it wasn’t necessary and she had everything under control.
Then, for lack of something better to do, I found myself at the cemetery with nothing to watch but empty grounds that I wasn’t allowed to visit. I stood at the spot Galen showed me more than a week before, the location boasting a picture window that allowed Moonstone Bay residents to watch their zombified loved ones shuffle about inside – without danger of attacking anyone, of course – after dark, and stared into nothing.
I didn’t know what to make of Gus’s story. He could’ve been lying. Maybe he did have an affair with Barbie Conner and he simply didn’t want to own up to it. Maybe Henry Conner killed Trish Doyle as some form of payback. Or – and this was far more likely – perhaps Ashley decided to join the family feud and make her father proud by killing off his rival’s daughter.
The notion made me sad and sick to my stomach.
I pressed my forehead against the glass, positioning myself as close as possible to the walled-off cemetery, and closed my eyes. Galen was worried when he showed me what was inside. He thought I might try to climb the wall to get to the mother I’d never known. I’d had no idea she was even buried on Moonstone Bay. My father kept an urn full of what he said were her ashes on our mantel when I was growing up. I’d yet to call him for a clarification. It seemed like a lot of work for an answer that wouldn’t change anything.
Since then, I’d stayed away from the cemetery because … well, because seeing my mother as a zombie didn’t make me feel closer to her. It was the exact opposite, in fact. Meeting May’s ghost and talking to her made me feel closer to my mother. Meeting Wesley and trying to build something with him made me feel closer to my mother. Looking at a zombie through a window made me feel … nothing. I was left bereft and empty. I didn’t know how to describe what I was feeling, so I decided to ignore it.
Why I came back now was a mystery to me.
The glass was cool on this side of the cemetery thanks to the overhanging foliage. The residents wanted the tourists to stay away, so they built the window in the back and were careful to patrol the area after dark so they could dissuade looky-loos from getting too close. During the day it was blissfully abandoned.
Galen explained that two workers entered the grounds regu
larly to mow and keep things neat. Other than that, the cemetery was off limits for everyone … including him. Residents could look through the window but never touch. Not that anyone wanted to touch a zombie, of course.
Even though I had no idea why I chose to visit the cemetery now, I took advantage of the quiet and focused on Trish Doyle’s murder. I didn’t want to believe that Ashley Conner was capable of killing her friend, but if the evidence really was piling up against her maybe there was a reason behind it. Maybe she had snapped and killed Trish. Maybe she regretted it after the fact. That didn’t change the outcome. Trish was dead and Ashley was in jail. That was unlikely to change in the near future.
The shuffling of what sounded like feet on foliage caused me to jerk my head to the right, narrowing my eyes as I searched the heavy underbrush for a sign of movement. I didn’t see a person. Of course, the leaves were so thick anyone could hide in there without me knowing. If I was a better witch I figured I could reach out with my senses and somehow magically know if it was man or animal watching me. So far, though, I was a terrible witch.
I pursed my lips as I studied the spot, uncertain. “Hello?”
No one answered. I wasn’t really expecting someone to pop out of the bushes and say, “I’m here!” Still, something inside wouldn’t allow me to let it go. I squared my shoulders and spoke again. “Is anyone there?”
No voice answered, but something rustled in the underbrush, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.
I could have been brave and stormed to the spot where I was convinced someone watched me and confronted my rogue stalker. I could’ve been the heroine everybody cheers for because she’s full of courage and sass. The idea didn’t sit well with me, though. Sure, it could’ve been a small animal – maybe a cat or dog – screwing around in the bushes. My inner danger alarm didn’t believe that. It was far more likely a killer in a hockey mask, and I was the sort of heroine who went to investigate a noise in the middle of a storm after her friends mysteriously started disappearing. Those types of heroines are never heard from again.
Instead of moving forward I took a step back. “I’ll just be going now,” I murmured. I stared for another beat and then turned on my heel and practically broke into a run as I made my escape. I was at the corner of the cemetery when I finally found the courage to look over my shoulder. I didn’t see anyone, but the malevolence I thought I’d felt mere seconds before doubled as an involuntary shudder ran through my body. Someone was definitely there … watching me. And, if what I felt was even remotely true, someone wanted to hurt me.
I kept moving around the corner, desperate to put space between whatever was hiding in the bush and me, but I ran into something hard and solid, forcing me to swivel and prepare to fight.
“What the … ?”
Booker caught my hand before I could slap at him, making a face as he looked me up and down. He looked more frustrated with my reaction than worried I might do him physical damage. I couldn’t blame him.
“What are you doing back here?”
I glanced over my shoulder again, exhaling heavily when the overpowering fear dissipated. I felt a bit sheepish given my ridiculous reaction. “Oh, um … .”
“They don’t come out during the day.” Booker gentled his voice as I met his gaze. “I know Galen showed you what’s in there – that was smart of him, by the way, to be with you – but you can’t see her during the day.”
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about my mother. “I know that.” I straightened. “I just … was doing something and ended up here. I’m not sure why.”
Booker narrowed one eye. “You’re not sure why you ended up here?”
“No. I was at Lilac’s bar and ran into Gus Doyle. He made me sad. I ended up here.”
“Uh-huh.” Booker didn’t look convinced. “What were you running from?”
I thought about telling him I believed someone was watching me from the bushes, but the more thought I gave that, the more I realized it was unlikely. It was probably my imagination running wild, which was a fairly normal occurrence in my world. “I was just heading back to town.”
“Well … I’ll walk with you.” He didn’t offer as much as demand I accept his services as bodyguard and reluctant tour guide, so I readily fell into step beside him. “What was Gus saying?”
I told him about our conversation, leaving nothing out. I wasn’t sure I understood all of it because Gus was so very drunk, but when I was done Booker made a hissing sound as he shook his head.
“Getting drunk isn’t going to help matters.”
“I don’t think he cares.”
“I know, but … he’s making things worse.”
“For him, I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Booker heaved out a sigh. “You’re feeling sorry for him, aren’t you?”
“Don’t you?” I didn’t understand how anyone could look at a pathetic creature like Gus Doyle and not feel sympathy. “He lost his daughter. He’s a wreck.”
“I’m not saying it’s not sad.”
“Are you sad?” Curiosity got the better of me … again … and I blurted out the question. “I mean … are you sad because you were dating her and now she’s dead? That would be normal. I know I’d feel sad if I were in your position.”
“Ugh.” Booker made a face as we hit the sidewalk in front of the cemetery. “I’m starting to regret offering to walk you back to town.”
“You don’t have to do it.” Now that we were far away from the bushes of doom I felt brave and strong again. “If you have someplace else to be, I understand.”
“Unfortunately for me, I have nowhere else to be. I finished work early. There’s nothing more I can do this afternoon.”
“So you have plenty of time to answer my question.” I showed him my teeth as I adopted my best “you have to tell me what I want to hear because I’m adorable and sweet” smile. “There’s no sense avoiding it.”
“I’m not avoiding it.” Booker was blasé. “I know you want me to feel guilty about dating two women at once, but I really don’t feel that way.”
I didn’t doubt that. “Did you like either of them?”
“I liked both of them … for about an hour at a time. After that, they both got tedious.”
I wrinkled my nose, appalled. “So you’re saying that you liked having sex with them and that’s it.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
I shrugged, unsure how to answer. “Did they want more from you?”
“Of course. That’s a woman thing, though, and not an Ashley and Trish thing. In truth, they didn’t want me because they really wanted me. They simply wanted me because everyone on the island wants me.”
“Wow … and I thought Galen’s ego was huge.”
“It is. His ego is twice as big as mine.”
“I’m sure he would say the same thing about you.”
“But I’m right.” Booker’s grin was mischievous. “As for everyone on the island wanting me, it’s true. Ask around. I’m like catnip and the women are the felines.”
“I think I might throw up.”
“You might not like it, but it’s totally true.” Booker refused to back down. “Women have always found me irresistible.”
“And what about you? Have you ever found a woman irresistible?”
“Not really.”
“I figured.”
“I’m just not ready for a relationship.” To my surprise, Booker turned serious. “A relationship takes work and I don’t have the energy to work at one right now. I have other things going on. I know you don’t want to hear it, but Trish and Ashley both understood that I was not in it for the long haul.”
“You just said they wanted more.”
“Yes, but they understood they weren’t going to get more.” Booker was firm. “I’m not going to make apologies for how I choose to live my life. I never lied to either of them. I never said I loved them. I never said I even wanted to entertai
n the idea of loving them. I was simply a guy who occasionally had needs and they were women who enjoyed meeting those needs. That’s it.”
“I guess that’s fair,” I grumbled, dragging a hand through my hair. “Why don’t you want a relationship?”
Booker held his hands out and shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a lot of other stuff going on right now. Not all of us are built to be the perfect boyfriend like Galen Blackwood.”
His irritated tone caught me off guard. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, no. You meant something.”
“I didn’t.” Booker inclined his chin toward Main Street as we approached. “It’s filling up early today. You should make an escape while you can.”
“What is it with you guys hating festivals? I mean … I’m not always in the mood for a festival either, but it’s hardly the end of the world.”
“You might change your mind down the road. You’re a newbie. The first festival is never bad. It’s the hundredth festival that turns into a drag.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a ray of freaking sunshine?”
Booker smirked. “It’s been said a time or two. As for the festival, I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm. If you want to go to the festival I will walk you there to make sure you arrive safely.”
That seemed like an odd way to phrase it but I decided to let it go. “Come on. They have these neat slush things that are amazing. They’re blue and they make your tongue a weird teal color.”
“I’m well aware of the Blue Slush Effect.”
I was incredulous. “It has a name?”
Booker chuckled. “It does. As teens on this island, we had nothing better to do than go to the various festivals. It was expected. We’ve all enjoyed the Blue Slush Effect at one time or another.”
“Good to know.” I cast him a sidelong look as we walked. “What do you think about the whole Conner and Doyle family feud thing? Do you think that’s why Trish is dead?”
“Wow. You just can’t walk in silence, can you?”
Witch Out of Water Page 11
