Ocean Beach (45 page)

He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and she felt him come awake behind her.

“Mmm.” The sound rumbled in his chest and vibrated against the bare skin of her back. His hands tightened across her abdomen.

She sighed and turned in his arms. Dark stubble covered his jaw. His eyes were warm and liquid. She felt a tug of desire as he pulled her closer. She kept her eyes open as he kissed her, intent on memorizing his face and the way he looked at her, refusing to think about how much she’d miss him and this surprising intimacy when it was time to leave Miami.

“How long do we have until you have to report for garden duty?” he asked, skimming a hand down the curve of her hip.

“Long enough,” Nicole murmured, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to hers. “I’m hoping Maddie and Avery will be so busy organizing the volunteers that they won’t even notice what time I get there.”

“Perfect.” He brushed his lips against hers and skimmed his hand up to her breast. “That’s exactly how long I was planning to take.”

By the time Nikki got to The Millicent, the street and grounds were already swimming in a sea of gardeners. After
some aggressive circling, she pulled the Jag into a spot several blocks away and walked through the open gates. Madeline and a tall, thin woman with coffee-colored skin and a pith helmet of a sun hat stood at the top of the front steps preparing to address their volunteer workforce. The Millicent in all her freshly painted glory soared and curved behind them. Her windows and portholes sparkled in the sunlight. Her smokestacks seemed to signal “full speed ahead.”

With a small wave to Maddie, Nikki wended her way through the crowd and back to the pool house, where she drank a glass of orange juice, ate a banana, and went inside the main house, hoping she was going to get to stay there. She found Avery and Deirdre in the living room contemplating paintings and artwork that leaned against the walls. A rolled-up carpet sat beside a sofa. Dustin stood in his playpen near the piano bending and straightening his knees, an exercise he seemed to be finding very amusing.

The sound of chain saws and lawn mowers wafted inside and the view through every window was of people at work. Unlike the gardeners that Renée Franklin had assembled to tame Bella Flora’s jungle, these volunteers were not uniformly white-haired and their style of dress, though utilitarian, was hipper and brighter. Every now and again, she caught a glimpse of Troy and Anthony moving around outside, filming the gardeners in action.

“Oh, good,” Deirdre said when she spotted her. “The rug just got back from being repaired and I want to put it in place. But we need help moving the furniture.”

Nicole, who would have agreed to anything that would keep her inside today, smiled. Her phone dinged and she glanced down. Her smile faded when she read Amherst’s
text, which was yet another,
I just need a few minutes of your time.
Putting her ringer on silent, she jammed the phone deep into her pocket.

Deirdre unrolled the carpet with the same excitement she’d displayed over every step of the renovation of The Millicent. “Just look at these colors,” she exclaimed as the full pattern of the area rug was revealed. The geometric design on the cream background was done in vibrant jewel tones with a thread of black running through them.

“This looks great against the tobacco-color stain on the tiles,” Avery said. “I didn’t realize it had so much color in it.”

“I know,” Deirdre said happily. “I knew when I first saw it that it was spectacular, but rug repair can be dicey.”

There was a knock on the back door. It opened and a woman, one of the gardeners, popped her head in. “Is there a bathroom I can use?”

“There’s a guest bath off the kitchen.” Deirdre directed her around the back of the house to the other entrance.

“Good thing the plumbing’s been updated,” she said when she came back. “But I wonder if we should have brought in a portalet for the gardeners. I had no idea we’d have this many people turn up.”

“Maddie’s out there with pitchers of lemonade and iced tea,” Avery said. “Maybe we should tell her not to push the liquids quite so hard.”

“It’s almost one hundred degrees out there,” Nicole said. “We don’t want people passing out on the lawn.”

“True,” Avery said. “And I guess it’s okay if the floors get a little dirty. The dark stain will camouflage a lot of it and I’ve got cleaners coming in before we leave next week.”

Next week.

They all looked at one another.

They’d been so focused on finishing that no one had really talked about the future and their plans for it. Nikki had no life, no family, and no home to go back to. Unless you counted Bella Flora, which, at least until it sold, was still one-third hers. She caught herself thinking of Giraldi and chided herself for her wistful imaginings.

Following Deirdre’s direction, they pushed the sofas and cocktail table out of the way and carried the two swivel chairs over near Dustin so that there was room to position the pad and then the area rug. Kyra showed up and shot footage of them at work as Deirdre had them move and reposition the furnishings far more times than seemed necessary.

When Deirdre finally seemed satisfied, Nicole plopped down on one of the sofas. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her pocket, but instead of Giraldi, as she’d hoped, it was Amherst again. She swore under her breath and hit the decline button.

Avery shot her a questioning look and Nicole shrugged it off. “Time-share offer,” she said. She turned to Deirdre. “What’s next?”

“Well, I thought we’d go ahead and hang the artwork in here. Then if we have time we can start on Max’s room. I bought new linens and towels for him and had his area rug cleaned. It was in a lot better shape than this one.”

“Where
is
Max?” Nicole asked.

“I sent him out with Andrew,” Avery said. “We have plenty of gardeners and I knew if Max was here he’d feel like he needed to be outside helping. He’s ninety. I don’t think spending the day working outside is a particularly good idea.”

Maddie rushed in the front door, her hair sticking up at
odd angles and her clothes dirt-stained and sweat-soaked. “We’re taking a break,” she said. “I’ve got sack lunches for the volunteers to eat out around the pool. Can you all help me pass them out?”

They distributed lunches and drinks and left Maddie outside strategizing with the pith-helmeted master gardener while the volunteers sat in every available patch of shade and chatted quietly among themselves. Kyra retreated to the pool house to feed Dustin, then brought him back to the playpen. “If you’re okay with it, I’m going to leave him here while I shoot a bit more outside,” she said. “Call me if he gets fussy, and I’ll take him and put him down for a nap.”

After she left, Avery handed Nicole a hammer.

Deirdre held up an abstract of sinuous curves that hinted at a nude draped across a bed. “I’d like to hang this over the fireplace,” she said. “What do you think?”

Nicole lost track of time as they followed Deirdre’s instructions. They hung artwork and placed and re-placed lamps and accessories as Dustin watched from his playpen. For a while the hammering and rearranging held his attention, but then he began to whimper. Nicole looked over and saw him grinding a fist against one eye. “I’m no expert,” she said, “but I think Dustin’s getting tired.”

Nicole texted Kyra, and when she got no response, she sent a text to Maddie, although she doubted Maddie would hear or feel a message coming in. And who knew what would happen if she decided to text back?

Troy came in and got some shots of them at work, then set his camera on the piano. He exchanged high fives with Dustin, which perked the little boy up for a while. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, preparing to leave.

“If you see Kyra, will you let her know we think Dustin may be ready for his nap?” Avery asked.

“Sure,” Troy said as he headed outside, leaving his camera behind. “But somebody might want to check his diaper. I think I got a whiff of eau de poop.”

Nicole crossed to the playpen and looked down at Dustin.

“I think you have to get a little closer than that to check his diaper,” Deirdre said.

Nicole looked back at them helplessly.

Avery just shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I have no experience whatsoever.”

That made them statistically even, so Nicole leaned down over the edge of the playpen, pulled the waistband of Dustin’s shorts away as she’d seen Kyra do, and gagged.

“Oh my God!” She clamped a hand over her nose and backed away.

“Don’t be such a wuss,” Avery said.

“You come here and deal with it, then.”

“I can’t, my hands are full.”

Holding her breath and keeping her arms straight, Nicole reached out and grasped Dustin at the waist, intent on keeping the source of the smell as far away as possible. The back door opened and she turned around with relief, assuming it must be either Kyra or Maddie responding to her text.

Her relief fled when she saw that it was not a potential diaper changer but one of the gardeners. The man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He wore loose khakis and a nondescript, but grimy T-shirt. A baseball cap, pulled low on his head, shadowed his face.

“There you are,” the man said as he moved into the room.

Nicole’s head jerked up as she recognized the voice. Parker Amherst moved toward her.

“Watch out for the rug,” Deirdre began. “We just had it cleaned and…” She stopped speaking when she too recognized Amherst.

“You haven’t been answering my calls or returning my texts,” Parker Amherst said to Nicole. He stopped in front of her. His voice was conversational. His eyes were dead.

Nicole’s mouth went dry. She could think of nothing to say. Had he come for an apology?

“It’s proven surprisingly difficult to get your attention.” Amherst pulled a gun from his pocket as casually as he might a bunch of keys. “I thought this might help.”

Deirdre and Avery gasped in shock.

“What’s going on?” Deirdre demanded.

Amherst didn’t answer. He pointed the gun at Deirdre and used it to motion her and Avery closer to Nicole.

“I’m sorry.” Nicole tried to match Amherst’s casual tone as she bent to put the baby down and hopefully out of harm’s way. Her breath caught in panic when Dustin wrapped his chubby hands around her leg and used it to remain standing. “I’ve been…” She swallowed hard. “I’ve been busy. We’re trying to get the house done.”

“I had a house,” Amherst said. “At least I did until your brother stole it.” The matter-of-fact tone raised the hairs on the back of Nicole’s neck.

Avery and Deirdre pressed closer to each other. She could feel their fear, as palpable as her own.

“The bank took it today,” Amherst continued. “They kicked me out of the house my grandfather built, the house I was born in. The house my father blew his brains out in.”
He let that one sink in. “I lost my fiancée because of Dyer too.”

The surprise must have shown on Nicole’s face. He gave a harsh bark of laughter. “You really didn’t do your homework, did you?”

“No.” Nicole shook her head, but she did it slowly and without moving any other part of her body. Despite the calm tone, Amherst’s eyes remained vacant. She did not want to spook him.

“After my father killed himself and word got out that he’d lost everything, she decided she didn’t love me quite as much as she’d thought.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nicole said, trying to sound sincere.

“I bet you are.”

Dustin let go of Nicole’s leg and stood there, getting his balance. She needed to get him out of the line of fire, but she was afraid that if she moved she’d set Amherst off.

Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She hurried to speak over the sound, afraid her only connection to the outside world would be taken away.

“I
am
sorry,” Nicole said. “For what you’ve been through.” Her heart was beating so frantically that she wondered if she might die of cardiac arrest before he pulled the trigger. “But I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t have anything you can take.”

She felt Avery and Deirdre beside her, but was afraid to look at them. Her mind raced, searching for something that might resemble a plan, but the gun was too big and too close. Her palms were clammy. Her knees had gone weak.

“I’m here to give you one last chance to hand over the unrecovered money,” Amherst said.

Nicole’s brain raced but went nowhere. Should she pretend she knew how to get her hands on some money? Try to trick him into leaving with her so that the others would be safe? But where would she take him and how would she get away with it? And what guarantee did she have that Amherst wouldn’t simply shoot everybody before he went with her?

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement outside. The yard was full of people. A broken window, a scream, could summon help. But anyone who came running would be easy to pick off.

“Well?” he asked, as if he were asking her to choose an item from a menu. He stood directly across from her, barely a foot away. The gun was aimed directly at her chest.

“I’m really sorry,” she said in what had to be the understatement of the century. “But I have no idea where any of the missing money is. Believe me, I wish I did. Do you think I’d be working like a sweat hog if I had any money?”