by Tessa Kelly
“I hope it works out for you,” I told her sincerely.
“Thanks. And I know it must be hard to leave your dog with a stranger, but I promise I’ll take good care of him. I’m all stocked up on dog food and treats. If it’s cool, I’ll tie him outside during the day and bring him in at night. And you can come visit him anytime.”
I thanked her profusely and hurried back to the hotel. There was just enough time left to get ready for dinner.
Up in my room, I took a shower and was in the middle of getting dressed when there was a knock on the door.
“Just a minute!”
I shimmied into the midnight-blue shift I brought for tonight and went to open.
Two old ladies stood in the hallway, one short and plump, the other tall. Both had big 'Hiya, neighbor!' smiles on their faces. The only thing missing from this picture was the “Welcome” basket filled with homemade blueberry muffins.
“Hi! You’re Sandie, right?” The shorter of the ladies bustled into the room before I had a chance to invite her. She had curly hair dyed black and small green eyes that stared at me with curiosity. “I’m Patricia Carney and this is Nancy Hewitt, but call us Pat and Nancy. We’re friends of Geraldine. We were getting ready in our room and heard you walking around in here. Just couldn’t wait to meet the young lady responsible for helping our dear friend get together with Henry.”
Feeling my cheeks grow hot, I stood aside for Nancy to enter. The tall woman floated in past me and swept her eyes over the room with approval. Her soft brown hair was piled on top of her head and she had blue eyes with just a hint of makeup around them.
“Geraldine is very kind,” I told them, “but I think she exaggerates my involvement. She was the one who befriended Henry at the shelter and she worked hard to get his life back.”
“Nonsense!” Nancy waved her hand at me. “We know the story of how you figured out Henry’s relation to John. Without you, who knows what might’ve happened. And I hadn’t seen Geraldine this happy in years, not since George past away. The three of us taught in the same high school for almost forty years, you know.” She nodded meaningfully. “We’ve been together through thick and thin, as they say. Pat and Geraldine were there for me when my own husband, Reece, died a year ago.”
I offered her my condolences which she accepted with another nod. “Bless him, he was six years older than me. Worked as a CEO all his life. We did all right. Had two children, Loren and Dominique. They’re both in their twenties now. Free spirits, as you’d call them.”
“As for me, I never married and still believe I was better off,” Pat announced as she lowered herself into the soft cream armchair next to the bed. She had the look of a person getting comfortable for a good long heart-to-heart.
I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: it was time to go down to dinner. My stomach growled in agreement.
“You always were a bit of a free spirit yourself,” Nancy remarked. “A man would’ve had to tie you down with a rope if he wanted to keep you.”
“Holy crickets, Nance! There aren’t ropes strong enough for that,” Pat exclaimed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited as a puppy for our dear Geraldine. But for myself, I think marriage is just too much of a bother. And when you’re young—” Suddenly leaning forward, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you know, the walls in this place are so thin. Just before we came over, we overheard that young couple, Susan and Vincent, talking about how they’re tired as all heck of hiding from Susan’s mother. Apparently, she simply won’t leave them alone.”
“You’re talking about Jennifer’s daughter and her boyfriend? I’m really looking forward to meeting them at dinner.” I hoped the hint would remind the ladies what time it was.
Pat nodded and leaned back in the chair with a contented sigh. Nancy was busy examining the generous basket of fruit and honeysuckle wine the hotel staff had left on my vanity table. A card propped up against the wine bottle explained that the wine was made from locally-grown honeysuckle and promised to delight the palate with supple floral notes. I was looking forward to testing their claim. But not in place of dinner.
“In my opinion,” Pat said, “you can’t let young people run away with their fantasies but you shouldn’t stronghold them, either. That just leads to more trouble than it’s worth. You’ve got to find the right balance between discipline and freedom.”
Nancy glanced at her, shaking her head. “Oh, Pat. What would you know about raising children?”
The other put her hands on her hips which didn’t look easy as she was half-reclined and sinking into the cushions. “May I remind you, one doesn’t teach high school for forty years without learning a thing or two about handling young people!”
The two immediately launched into an argument about the differences involved in teaching school and raising kids. I bit my lip and fidgeted from foot to foot. I was seriously starting to worry the chatty ladies would make me miss dinner.
There was another knock on the half-open door and Kathy came in looking extremely lovely in a plum wrap dress. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.
“I thought I heard voices in here. Aren’t you going to dinner?”
“Of course we are! Why wouldn’t we?” Nancy glanced at the time. “Oh, no! We better hurry down.”
She strode over to Pat and lent her a hand as the other needed help getting unstuck from the cushions. Then they hurried out into the hallway. Kathy and I followed them.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
She gave me a knowing smile. “I overheard the conversation across the wall, thought you might need a rescue.”
Out in the hallway, Tray stood waiting for us, handsome in a blue button-down shirt and off-white slacks. The best part of his outfit was the smile he gave Kathy as he fell into step with her. Once again, I was reminded of the contrast between him and Jeff and, once again, it made me wish Liam was there.
As we headed to the stairs, a door opened down the hallway and two people came out.
“Here they are!” Nancy exclaimed. “Sandie, this is Susan and Vincent, the ones we were telling you about.” She introduced us to the young woman in her early twenties and the tall man with thick brown hair and hazel eyes.
“And where’s your brother?” Nancy asked Susan.
The other tossed her dark hair with a look of irritation. “How would I know? Carl’s been anti-social ever since we got here. There was no room for him at the hotel, so they put him up in the guest bungalow. He’s just been hanging out there for hours. If I tried doing that, Mother would go ballistic.”
“Come on, Suse,” Vincent said with a chuckle. “We both know why Carl’s been hanging out at the bungalows. And who with.”
The two exchanged meaningful looks as they headed for the stairs, paying the rest of us no more attention.
“Look, I'm glad he’s found a playmate,” I heard Susan whisper. “I just wish Mother would lay off me.”
Vincent sneered. “Keep wishing.”
Tray craned his neck across Kathy and gave me a wink. “Plenty of intrigue around to keep a young sleuth on her toes. What do you think, Sandie?”
I rolled my eyes. “I already said, there won’t be any excitement of that kind at Geraldine’s wedding.”
But, even as I said it, I couldn’t help thinking about Majandra and her husband’s suppressed anger as she skipped off to get her supposedly forgotten compact mirror from the boat. What was that all about? Had Majandra arranged to meet someone there? If so, why flaunt it in front of everyone? The thing made no sense.
Downstairs, the wide lobby had a terracotta tiled floor and lots of potted plants along the walls. A shy-looking young man at the reception desk ushered us through the side door into a cozy dining room with round tables under pristine, white tablecloths, wallpaper the color of a stormy sea, and wrought-iron lantern chandeliers that cast everything in a soft golden glow.
Being a small party, we were seated around three of the five tables.
I found my placeholder card at Geraldine and Henry’s table, next to John Edwards. The other two people at the table were Henry’s old college friends. John introduced them as Dr. Michael Huber and Dr. Ronald Jennings, both practicing psychiatrists.
Dr. Huber rose to shake hands with me across the table. He had bronze skin, red hair, not yet completely white, and bright blue eyes. Standing, he looked very tall and straight.
“You can call me Mickey,” he said. “Almost everyone does, except my patients, of course. Though not for long. Sixty-five is a good age to retire, I think.”
“Do you live in Boston, too?” I asked.
“Oh, no. Portland, Maine. But my birthplace is in New Zealand. And Ron here lives in San Diego.”
“The three of us used to get together every few years,” Dr. Jennings chimed in. He was shorter than his two friends, with gray hair, skin too pale for a Californian, and green eyes that darted around nervously. The fingers of his left hand kept squeezing the wine glass so hard I thought it might break. I wondered if he was always this way, or if something was making him tense.
“It’s good to be at Henry’s wedding,” he said with a weak smile. “And to see that he’s all right. We were extremely worried when he fell off the edge of the world last year.”
“We wouldn’t be here if John hadn’t sent us the invitations,” Michael said. He gave Henry a soft pat on the back. “It’s too bad you don’t remember us, old man.”
Henry gave him a quiet smile. “I’m grateful you could make it on such short notice. And for filling me in on some of my lost years. With any luck, I’ll regain the memories one of these days. It’s getting somewhat tiresome, having to rely on others to tell me who I am.”
A silent pause followed, no one knowing what to say. Then Michael gave a short sigh and nodded. He raised his glass.
“To the good old times! We did have some great ones. Didn’t we, Ron?”
The others smiled, relaxing. While they launched into reminiscing, I glanced around at the other two tables.
Kathy was seated next to Tray, opposite Susan and Vincent. Two more people walked in through the open doorway, a good looking young guy and a slim, very attractive blond woman.
“That’s Charles Edwards,” John told me quietly. “Jen’s youngest. He works as a sous chef at a restaurant in Boston. The young lady is Leonie Torres. She is part of Eric’s sailing crew.”
As they took their seats at Kathy’s table, Susan and Vincent exchanged another meaningful look.
Susan giggled. “So, Carlos, where have you been? We haven’t seen you all afternoon.”
Her brother shrugged, his face a study in indifference. “Nothing much. I stayed at the bungalow. Why do you care, anyway?”
“I don’t. I just thought you might be busy with your new friends.” Susan’s eyes darted to Leonie as she said it.
Leonie’s cheeks glowed pink under Susan’s scrutiny, but she said nothing and just poked at her salad. From the table over, Jennifer frowned at her daughter. The latter pretended not to notice, though a tiny self-satisfied smile appeared on her lips.
“Did you guys get here last night, like Eric and Majandra?” Tray asked.
“We got here early this morning,” Susan said. “But you wouldn’t know it, seeing how my little brother is so comfortable around here already. But then, he’s always had a knack for getting into the swing of things,” she added with a smile that left no doubt of her double meaning.
Jennifer threw her another stern look. When it had no effect, she crossed her arms and turned to her own table, which certainly didn’t lack for entertainment. Pat and Nancy were engaged in an animated conversation with Eric Harding, the three of them making an obvious effort not to notice their other two table companions. That couldn’t have been easy.
“Who’s that man sitting next to Majandra?” I asked John, keeping my voice low.
John glanced at Jennifer’s table and immediately lowered his eyes again. The man I asked about had just leaned close to Majandra and whispered something in her ear while playing with a lock of her hair. Majandra giggled and batted her eyelashes at him.
“That’s Timothy,” John whispered. “He’s Eric’s other crewman. The four of them have been sailing around for months. That kind of arrangement must bring people... closer together.”
You don’t say!
As the waiters brought the main course, Timothy lifted a grilled prawn from his plate and fed it to Majandra. She reciprocated by cutting a piece of her prime rib and coquettishly dangling it in front of his mouth. He snapped at it with a playful growl, not forgetting to lick her fingers.
Eric suddenly pushed his chair away from the table and got up. As the room went quiet, he gave us a strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some things to get ready for the outing later. Those of you who want to go on the boat, just head down to the dock once you’ve finished with dessert. I’ll be waiting.”
“Eric, you barely had any dinner!” Geraldine protested. Her face had that strained look again, one I’d seen earlier in the car.
Eric shook his head. “I’ll be fine. The boat is well stocked with provisions, so you don’t need to worry about me going hungry.”
“I’ll be along soon, dear,” Majandra purred.
He nodded without glancing at her, then turned and walked out of the dining room. The look in his eyes made me shiver.
At the next table, Leonie sat very still as she watched Eric go. Lowering her eyes, she picked up her fork and ate a mouthful of her entrée, then put down her utensils and also rose from the table. She left without saying a word to anyone.
Timothy grinned after them. Leaning in, he whispered something in Majandra’s ear again at which she pealed into giddy laughter. Lacing his fingers, he stretched and cracked his neck, then pushed his chair away from the table with much noise.
“Duty calls,” he told the rest of us.
He sauntered out, his broad shoulders filling the doorway for a moment before vanishing out of sight. As the hotel’s front door banged shut behind him, my insides clenched with icy foreboding.
“Let me guess...” John whispered.
Turning to him, I realized he’d been watching me. “What?”
“I think you’re envisaging a bloody corpse in our future,” he said. “Probably, with a knife sticking from its back. Am I right?” When I stared at him, he smiled a conciliatory smile. “I apologize, Sandra. I was simply trying to lighten the mood.”
I gave him a half-smile. “I just hope Majandra and Timothy can stick to eating from their own plates for the rest of the weekend.”
“For Uncle and Geraldine’s sake, I think we’re all hoping that. But...enough of that. Tell me, what’s new in your life?”
Since he was obviously eager to change the subject, I went along with it, trying to appear lighthearted as I told him about some of the things that happened in the past few months. Neither of us mentioned the incident again, though I didn’t believe it was over. Underneath the lightness as I sat chatting, I couldn’t shake the anxiety and the growing certainty that trouble was only beginning.
Chapter 5
The rest of dinner went by uneventfully. John and Geraldine did their best to dispel the awkwardness left to linger after Eric’s departure. The decadent dessert of crème brûlée and lavender rose ice cream also went a long way toward lifting everyone’s spirits. Everyone’s except Pat’s who sat with her hands crossed, pouting like a spoiled child.
After dinner, some of the guests drifted out through the French double doors, while those going on the boat headed to the dock.
“Aren’t you coming, Sandie?” Kathy asked as she and Tray headed toward the exit.
“I just want to run upstairs and get a sweater,” I told her. “It’ll be cold out on the water after sunset.”
“Good idea! As long as you’re going, would you mind bringing my shawl?” She handed me her key card.
; “No problem.”
Up in my room, I kicked off my heels and pulled on a pair of flats, then dug out the long cream-colored cardigan from my duffel bag. Stopping by Kathy’s room, I grabbed her light gray shawl which hung neatly folded from the back of an armchair. As I hurried downstairs, my phone pinged with an incoming message. I hesitated. Could it be important? I stopped on the second-floor landing to check. Somewhere nearby, two people were talking in low voices, but I couldn’t make out the words.
The message was from an editor at the publishing house where I’d sent my manuscript last month. He was cordial and polite, writing to say he liked my novel but that it wasn’t right for him at the moment. Whatever that meant. My heart sank somewhere in the vicinity of my soles.
In the hallway beyond the landing, the drone of conversation went on unbroken. I lowered myself on the carpeted step and rested my chin on my knees, suddenly all out of energy. I might be late for the boat ride, but my feet just didn’t want to move at the moment.
So, that made it nine rejections in total. Nine different editors, experts in their field, who had refused to publish my book. Maybe it was me after all. I wasn’t very good at this. Maybe I should quit writing and do something else instead. Become an interpretive dancer. Or a mime...
The voices in the hallway grew more urgent, shaking me from my thoughts. One of them suddenly rose to a wail.
“I can’t do this, Mickey. I’m telling you!” The voice belonged to Dr. Jennings. “If I’d known he’d be here, I never would’ve come. I can’t be in the same room with the bastard. It’s unbearable!” The voice shook on the last word.
I rose slowly and stuck my head into the hallway. The door closest to the staircase stood slightly ajar.
