An electric current flowed between us. I almost dropped my glass. Nate looked away.
That cut deep. I swallowed hard, then tried to navigate back to safer ground. “I’m going to check the security cameras.” I stood and crossed the room, settling in the chair behind my desk.
Nate stayed on the sofa. Was he thinking we needed distance?
I brought up the security system log for the day. “No incidents were recorded. The cameras indoors and out are motion activated. Something prevented the system from making a record or notifying me.”
Just as I was thinking it, Nate said, “That points to professionals. Someone who would suspect you might have a security system tied into the Wi-Fi. If we’re dealing with individuals who anticipate that sort of security and know how to jam a Wi-Fi system, that’s even more worrisome.”
“Clearly, I need to explore countermeasures for jammers. Or replace my security system with a hard-wired version. We’ve never run across a case where criminals with this level of technical sophistication came after us at home.”
Nate grew pensive.
I moved back to the sofa. “All the more reason to solve this case as quickly as possible. Do you think we should set aside the voluntary relocation scenario?”
He shook his head, looked baffled. “See, I’d’ve thought it more likely, considering the pregnancy. Clearly someone does not want you looking for her. But that wouldn’t necessarily rule out that she left home of her own free will. Right up until you said the security system didn’t function, I’d’ve said, could be she has friends trying to discourage you from looking for her because she doesn’t want to be found. Now…”
“I don’t see her hiring professionals.”
“Exactly.”
“At first I thought the pregnancy pointed to her leaving on her own, too. Except the one thing everyone agrees on is that Kent would never put the people who loved her through this kind of pain. People don’t change their core values overnight.”
Nate studied his bourbon. “No, but if they’re pushed farther than they can stand, sometimes they act out of character.”
What did he mean by that? Were we talking about Kent, me, or him? “That’s true to a point. But I don’t see Kent punishing everyone she knows because she was upset at Matt and her parents. She’d at least tell Ansley where she was going and why.”
Nate shrugged. “No way to know for sure. We’re seeing Kent through the lens of how others perceived her. Some people are predictable. Others are reliably unpredictable. Maybe we put that theory on the back burner for now.”
“Makes sense to me. Let’s figure out which two of the other possible narratives are the most likely. I’ll take one, you take the other, go from there.”
“All right. I like money for a motive. You said Kent’s share of the big pot would revert to the family trust, and that gets divided between the Bounetheau progeny, is that right?”
“Right. We can definitely rule out Virginia, Kent’s mother, in that scenario. Kent is her only child. Virginia is desperate to find her. And besides, she has her husband’s fortune in addition to her own money. That leaves Charlotte, the aunt, and Peyton and Peter, the twin uncles.”
“You pulled background on the whacko uncles yet?”
“Preliminary. We need to dig deeper. They stated their occupation as ‘managing their portfolios.’”
“Don’t folks with giraffe money have people to do that for them?”
“That’s what I would’ve thought.”
“They have to pass their days doing something. I’ll start with them, work my way on to the aunt if nothing pops. Maybe she wants more of the family fortune for her own babies.”
My ribs tightened their grip on my lungs. “Sweet Lord, I hope this doesn’t turn out to be family. Why is it always family?”
Nate just shook his head.
“I’ll keep working the Matt angle,” I said. “His alibi only holds up if you’re positive of when things went pear-shaped for Kent. Maybe Charleston PD is somehow sure of that, but so far they haven’t shared.”
“Can’t you get our client to induce them to be more cooperative? Seems like he’d have a lot of influence, could make a call.”
I bit the corner of my lip. “I asked Sonny about that. He said best not to go there if we want to develop a relationship with members of Charleston PD aside from him. Seemed like a bad career move.”
Nate sipped his drink. I knew exactly what he was thinking, but he didn’t say a word. He was thinking that we already had strong relationships with detectives in Greenville. This wouldn’t be a problem if we stayed in Greenville. My eyes started to water. I blinked quickly. I. Would. Not. Cry.
I cleared my throat. “Maybe Matt’s neighbors saw Kent or her car that night. Or, maybe they were outside and didn’t see her car.”
“All right. I’ve got family for the money, and you’ve got boyfriend because of the baby.”
Something didn’t sit right about the notion of Matt harming Kent. More to myself than to Nate, I said, “He could have hurt her accidentally, panicked, and covered it up. I don’t make him for a stone-cold killer. Then again…sociopaths are adept at appearing normal. I’m also going to keep the mother and grandmother as a side project. Something odd was going on between them this afternoon. Might be unrelated family drama. I’ll be happier when I know that for sure.”
“Out of everyone you’ve spoken to since you left Colton Heyward’s house yesterday morning, who do you peg as the most likely to pull the stunt with the snake?”
I pondered that for a minute. “None of them would get their own hands dirty, of course. But any of the Heyward/Bounetheau clan, aside from Kent’s parents, could have hired someone to discourage me.”
“They’ve hired help to scare off the hired help. This takes messed up family to a whole nother level.”
“It likely was professionals, but it was an amateur move when you think about it. Someone was kind enough to confirm for us that at least one person who knows we’ve been hired knows what happened to Kent. That eliminates the two hardest to solve scenarios altogether.”
“You make a fair point, Slugger. Human traffickers would have no way of knowing we’d been hired, nor would a serial psycho. It had to be someone connected to Kent’s family and friends.”
I glanced at the round, wooden wall clock. “It’s after eight. Have you eaten?” I wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. But we’d just finished conducting our business, and I didn’t want him to leave.
Nate stared at the corner of the ceiling to my left. Just before the silence became more than I could bear he said, “No. I haven’t eaten.”
“Want me to pull out the food from last night? It’s in the fridge.”
“Why not? Partners eat together all the time.” His voice sounded strained, but he was staying, at least for the moment. Every moment he stayed was another chance to find our way back to each other.
He stood and followed me to the kitchen. I set out the chicken. Nate sliced some breast and made short work of cutting apart the other pieces. I put a wedge of brie, a block of Vermont cheddar, and some smoked Gouda on a cheese board and added some grapes. We worked quietly. Celery sticks, pepper wedges, and baby carrots along with some hummus I had on hand became a veggie plate. Nate sliced the day old baguette. I freshened his drink. Somehow, the routine tasks eased the tension between us. We climbed onto stools at a right angle to each other at the end of the bar.
For a few minutes we sipped and nibbled. Finally I asked, “Where did you sleep last night?”
He watched the piece of baguette he smeared with brie. “Hampton Inn in Mount Pleasant. Figured if I went to the Bed and Breakfast, Grace would have questions. My disposition being what it was, a hotel seemed a better choice.”
Grace Sullivan was my godmother and a bona fide psychic. Nate had been wise to avoid her. I s
et my wine glass on the granite and looked at him, willing him to look back.
After a moment of silence, he raised his gaze to mine.
I said, “I am so sorry about what I said last night. The words came out all wrong. I love you. You have to know that.”
“You know what they say.” He took a long swallow of bourbon, but didn’t look away. “Actions speak louder than words.”
My insides felt like wrung out laundry. I was in an impossible situation. This wasn’t just about what I wanted, but I couldn’t tell him all the reasons I had to stay in Stella Maris. But dammit, I did want to stay. “That goes both ways.”
“I think we’ve established we’re at an impasse in our personal relationship. I told you a long time ago if we went down this road there was no going back. But I guess we’re going to have to find a way back.” His voice was quiet, his eyes hurt but resolute.
“Nate, no—”
“Best we focus on being partners for now. It’s in both of our best interests. We have a lot invested in our business. We’re a good team.”
Dammit to hell. I was going to cry and that pissed me off. Tears slid down my cheeks. “You’re my best friend.”
“And you’re mine. But if we’re going to clean up the mess we made, we need to back away from each other every way except professionally. At least for now.”
“This is not what I want. Dammit, Nate. I finally feel like I know what love is. How it’s supposed to feel.”
“It’s not what I want, either.” He stared out the window into the night.
I reached out and touched his arm, willing him to look at me. “Then fight for me—for us. Let’s figure this thing out.”
“You said it yourself.” He dropped his gaze to the granite. “We’ve been trying to figure it out for more than two years. If we haven’t resolved it by now, we’re not going to.”
Every cell in my body rebelled at his words. “I don’t believe that. I refuse to believe that.”
Finally, he looked at me. His handsome face was a study in contrasts, his jaw firm, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you.”
“For your what…your long distance boyfriend? Because I think we both agree that portion of the program has gone on way too long.” His voice wasn’t unkind, but resolved.
“What do you want? You said yesterday that you’d accepted this was the way things are.” Oh dear Lord how I wanted yesterday back.
“Well, maybe I shouldn’t have settled for that.”
“Answer my question. What do you want?”
He set down his glass. “I want a life with you in it every day. I’m fine with dividing our time between here and Greenville. Only I want us in the same place at the same time most of the time. And, someday…” He looked away.
“Someday?” That word punched me in the gut. “You want children.” Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around my stomach. I’d had a bad case of endometriosis, which had required a hysterectomy a year ago. I wouldn’t be having children, a heartbreak I’d finally come to terms with.
“Liz, listen to me.” He slid off the barstool and folded me into his arms. “That is not what this is about. We don’t exactly have a child-friendly profession.” He kissed the top of my head. “I love you, too, Slugger. We just want different things. And I can’t live with knowing you had stronger feelings for—for other men before—than you do for me.”
“But that’s not true. It’s so far from the truth it’s beyond ridiculous.”
“That’s how I feel. And I can’t get around it.” He stepped back, hooked a finger under my chin and lifted it until I knew he could see the mascara that must be running off my face in rivers. “Make sure you get this part right. This has nothing to do with whether or not we might someday want children. Do you understand that?”
I nodded.
He sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy on either of us. But we’ll get through it. We just need to focus on the job right now.”
“No, dammit.” I wasn’t ready to give up.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them. “Liz. We just can’t chew on this all night, going over and over the same things. It tears me up to see you cry. I’d like to stay here, but that’s just not a good idea right now. I’m going to move to a hotel downtown. It’ll be more convenient to track the uncles from there. You said the Heywards live on Legare. Where do the Bounetheaus live?”
I sniffled. “East Bay. Not far from South Battery.”
He was quiet for a minute. “The inns in that area are pricey. I’ll move to the Hampton Inn downtown. It’s not as close as some of the other choices, but it’ll do.”
I stood and walked around the island to the far end of the kitchen. There was a box of tissues on the end of the counter nearest the door. I grabbed a handful and dabbed at my face, keeping my back to Nate.
“I’ll touch base tomorrow,” he said.
I listened as he walked down the hall and out the front door.
In my peripheral vison, I watched Colleen fade in. She sat quietly on the counter near the sink. After a while, she said, “You really love him, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do.” I gave in to the blubbering. I almost never blubbered. I hated myself afterwards.
“Do you want to live in Greenville?”
“Not all the time. My family is here. I love my family. I love this island. This is my place in the world. I also love Nate, and I love Greenville. I could be happy dividing our time between here and there.”
“But you can’t be happy without Nate,” Colleen said.
“It will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Only it doesn’t look like I have a choice, does it? I can’t take my happiness at the expense of everyone else who lives here. You said if I left, things would change—your alternate scenarios.”
“That’s true,” she said. “Let me work on it. That’s the thing about alternate scenarios. Choices people make every day create new possibilities, some good, some bad. Things change.”
“I always thought you meant I’d have to live here for the rest of my life.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “But I want you to be happy. I just have to figure another way to protect the island. Give me some time.”
Colleen hopped off the counter and glided over to where I stood. She wrapped her arms around me, enfolding me in warmth. Like she’d flipped a switch, my despair became utter peace. I knew in that moment that no matter what happened, everything would be okay.
“Colleen?”
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you tell me there was a snake in that box?”
She bray-snorted exuberantly. “I didn’t get here until Nate had it outside. If you’d been in any danger, I would’ve known it, and would’ve been here sooner.”
“Good to know.”
Eleven
Saturday morning I ran hard. I did my usual five-mile route around the north point of Stella Maris, past the marina, to Heron Creek, then retraced my steps past my house all the way to the end of Main Street and back. I pounded the clay-colored sand as if I were trying to outrun something with large teeth. Rhett raced beside me, occasionally detouring to chase a shore bird, then galloping to catch up.
By the time I stripped out of my running clothes and ran into the surf, he sprawled panting by my chair. I’d blown off my steam on the run. I swam at a more leisurely pace, then bobbed around a bit just for the feel of water on my skin. Finally, I rode a wave back to the shore. I slid into the robe I’d left on my chair. I was lost in the rhythm of the surf when I heard footsteps on the walkway.
“Got your clothes on yet?” I recognized Blake’s voice. My older brother knew and thoroughly disapproved of my habit of swimming in the altogether after my run.
“Yes, you’re safe from being scarred. Come on out.”
>
He took the canvas-and-wood beach chair beside mine. My brother is a good-looking man—five-ten, well-built, fit, blue eyes, medium-brown hair, nice cheekbones. But he has a tendency towards bossy and ornery, which likely explained why he was still a bachelor at thirty-five. “Isn’t the water getting too chilly for this nonsense?”
“Feels good to me. Usually I can swim through late October. I’m hot natured.”
He blew out a long breath. “I’ll be glad when November gets here.”
“Why does it bother you so much that I skinny dip in the mornings? I do it before the walkers are out. No one’s ever seen me.”
“I’m your brother. I prefer that you keep your clothes on in all situations.”
“Is that what you came out here before breakfast to tell me?”
“No. I came to find out exactly what happened here last night that required you to discharge a firearm. Experience has taught me that I didn’t get the whole story. Plus, I wanted to save you some time. I checked out Joe Eaddy. No sense in you duplicating the effort.”
“So Merry broke down and told you?”
“Moon Unit told me first.”
“Me too. What’d you find?”
Blake shrugged. “Nothing bad. Guy’s clean. Seems to be a responsible, upstanding citizen. ‘Course that could just mean he’s a smart criminal. No red flags, anyway.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” Merry’s love life looked a lot more promising than mine at the moment.
“Sonny tells me you’re working the Heyward case.”
“Yeah...oh dear Lord. That’s a mess of heartbreak. I can’t figure why Nancy Grace isn’t all over it.”
“Because the girl moved out of her parents’ house. She’s twenty-three. No crime in that.”
“Her parents don’t see it that way.” I sighed. “I guess they’re not the type to call in Nancy. They likely prefer to keep things discreet. Probably wouldn’t care for camera crews South of Broad.”
Blake lifted his Boston Red Sox cap and settled it back on top of his close-cropped hair. “Yeah. They called you instead. Not sure how I feel about this case.”
Lowcountry Boneyard Page 12
