The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel (25 page)

BOOK: The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel
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“The Prince of Bayberry Island! I haven’t heard this voice in a while.”

“Mickey, I need your help.”

“Shoot.”

“It involves a congressman, an alleged child abduction, the FBI, and a possible bribe of a public official.”

“Just my kind of party.”

“It’s the middle of festival week, and I’m stuck here. I’m asking you to be my feet on the ground in Maine, Boston, and DC for a couple days. Can you do it?”

“That’s why I gave you this number, Flynn. You’re in luck—I happen to be in between projects. Tell me what you need.”

*   *   *

Charlie signed for the delivery. There were so many fresh flowers, potted plants, and casseroles in the place by now that he could open his own combination restaurant/garden center.

“Thank you, son.” He checked out the white panel van parked just steps from the house. It had one of those large magnetic business signs slapped on its side. “Never got a delivery from you people before.”

“It’s a new shop.”

“All the way from Augusta, eh?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was something fishy going on. The man standing at his door was stiff as a fence post and well into his thirties. He was dressed in jeans but was acting all business—barely cracked a smile. He was probably another damn FBI agent. In fact, Charlie figured there was a listening device shoved down into the Shasta daisies. He was sick of this whole business.

“Long drive to deliver some flowers.”

“I just go where they tell me, Mr. McGuinness.”

Charlie looked past the deliveryman and waved to the FBI agents at the end of the farm lane. Every night and every day, they sat there in the blue government-issued sedan, staring at him. God knows it had to be the most boring assignment in the history of their careers.

“Say hello to your buddies for me.”

“What buddies?” The man stiffened.

“Joe and Fred down there at the end of the lane.”

“They’re not my buddies, sir.”

Charlie laughed. “Whatever you say. Bye, now.” He tried to shut the door but a large leather shoe prevented it from closing.

“Be sure to read the card,” the man said.

Charlie glanced at the small white envelope stuck inside the arrangement. It was probably some kind of FBI trick, a fake note from Evie, begging for help. They hoped he would take them right to her. They must really think he was stupid.

He put his lips directly into the flowers. “I don’t know where they are, dammit!” He looked up to see the stiff man smiling.

“Jordi is under the apple tree, Mr. McGuinness.”

Charlie froze, staring at the man as if seeing him for the first time. Of course, no one would know that but the girls. His heart flipped with joy as he suddenly understood—these flowers weren’t another sign of support from loyal friends and neighbors or an FBI trap. This guy wasn’t acting like a floral deliveryman because he wasn’t one. He was a messenger. A man others counted on to slip under the radar.

Charlie couldn’t help it. Tears formed in his eyes. “Thank you, son.”

“Call us for all your floral needs.” The man handed Charlie a slip of plain paper with an 800 number and a name penned in ink:
Flaherty.

“Have a pleasant day.”

“Ayuh, you as well. Thank you, again. Truly!”

Charlie shook his head in wonder, closing the door. The second he was inside he ripped open the tiny envelope. It wasn’t her handwriting, but they were her words.

Pop-Pop,

We are safe and have help. Forgive me! It will work out and we’ll see each other soon. We love you and miss you and are sad we can’t share your birthday. I will stay in touch.

Love, C&J

Charlie wandered into the kitchen, lit the gas stove, and stuck the card in the flame. He tossed it into the kitchen sink and watched it shrivel into a wisp of ash. Note? What note?

Take that, FBI!

*   *   *

Clancy stayed in the mudroom and kept his voice down as he waited for his sister to pick up the line.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Whatcha doin’?”

“Serving coffee for guests. Hold on.
What?
” He’d heard his sister mumbling in the background. “Mellie says she misses you.”

“Tell her we’ll do the fandango next time I’m over there, which will be soon.” When Rowan had repeated his response, he heard Imelda Silva’s familiar laugh.

Mellie came to work as the family cook and housekeeper soon after Clancy was born, and stayed on when the Safe Haven became a bed-and-breakfast. Though her wealthy daughter insisted she retire, she had no interest in it. Mellie said she knew too many people who died soon after they put in their last day on the job.

“What’s up?” Rowan sounded busy.

“I’ll just get right to the point. I need a favor.”

“Oookay.” She hesitated. “As long as it doesn’t have anything to do with Mona and Frasier, because I don’t want anywhere near that.”

Gee, that sounded familiar. “I just need you to put on your mermaid costume and entertain a four-year-old for a few hours. Nothing major. Make cookies or something. This kid has been obsessed with your beauty since the parade and has been begging to meet you.”

It got quiet for a moment. “You’re not supposed to drink on duty.”

He chuckled. “How many times have I asked you for a favor this big?”

“This is a first.”

“So you’ll do it?”

He heard his sister sigh. “You didn’t forget that tonight is the clambake, right?”

Damn! He had forgotten. “Of course not. But we’ll be out of your hair by four or five.”

Rowan groaned. “Can’t we do this some other day?”

“I really need your help today.” Clancy didn’t want to pique his sister’s curiosity by sounding desperate, but, hey, he was. “It’s important.”

“Okay, okay. How can I say no? You’ve saved my bacon so many times it’s not even funny. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time you asked me to do anything for you.”

“I don’t either.”

“But out of all the requests you could have made—why does it have to involve me getting dressed up like the damn Mermaid Queen? You know I hate it. Can’t I just keep an eye on this kid dressed like a human being?”

“You’re the best mermaid ever. We’ll be over after lunch.” He tried to hang up.

“Wait! Who’s ‘we’? Who is this kid, anyway? What’s going on?”

“Tell you later. Just don’t mention anything about this to Ma.”

“Um, Clancy? She’s—”

“See you soon.”

“Are you ready, Officer Clancy?”

He shoved his cell phone in his pocket and retreated from the mudroom. “I’m right here.”

“Go sit on the couch.” Clancy had no idea four-year-old girls could be so bossy. “Then close your eyes, ’cause it’s a suuuu—perize!”

He did as instructed. “I’m ready.”

Clancy heard giggling and shuffling until it stopped directly in front of the fireplace.

“You can open.”

Mission accomplished—they looked nothing like the photos of the suspected kidnapper and missing girl now being splashed all over creation. He would be thanking his mother.

“Very nice,” he said.

“I know!” It was so good to see Evie’s face light up with laughter. It had to be the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Watch out for the scary pirate!” Christina began a jerky freestyle dance that caused her tricornered hat and attached curly wig to list to port. “I will fight you for the treasure!”

As Evie tightened the headgear, he had to admit that Christina’s outfit beat her previous pirate costume all to hell. Clancy had been forced to climb shelves and root through plastic storage tubs, but he had found it all—ruffled shirt, vest and short pants, pull-on vinyl boots and a plastic sword with matching scabbard and belt. He even found a new eye patch.

However, it was Evie who stole this particular costume show. Mona had been right—the shells needed adjusting and the spandex mermaid skirt was damn near scandalous.

He liked it. A lot.

“I’m not sure I can go out in public in this.” Evie ran her hands down her hips, looking worried.

“It’ll just be for a while.”

“Yeah, but”—she mouthed the next sentence—
“Your sister
will think I’m a pole dancer.”

He laughed. “And here I thought you were a sports therapist and blogger.”

“We have some catching up to do, like you said.”

Clancy got everyone in the Jeep and headed out to the Safe Haven. Chris was singing happily in the backseat and Evie sat with her hands folded on top of her spandex scales.

“You sure Rowan is okay with this?”

“Oh, she’s thrilled!” Maybe that was an exaggeration, but at least she hadn’t refused.

As they drove, Clancy glanced at Evie sitting in the passenger seat of the Jeep. She looked so goddamn hot he could hardly steer. He was probably this worked up because of the knowledge that—if all went according to plan—they’d be alone soon.

She looked over at him, sunlight in her pale green eyes. “You know, the last man I dated called my wardrobe ‘predictable.’”

“He never had the privilege of seeing you in a mermaid skirt, I take it.”

When she laughed, he wanted her so much it hurt—pure torture. He was a grown man, and a beautiful, wonderful woman had been sleeping in his bed and walking around his house and he couldn’t have her. The images had been hijacking his brain all day. Evie in a state of abandon, wild and uninhibited and rolling on top of the sheets with him. Evie panting because she wanted him so badly. Evie naked and wet in the shower with him, in the surf, kissing him in the kitchen, sitting in his lap.

Evie. Naked. Everywhere.

“Whoops.” He overshot the Safe Haven’s front gate and had to bang a U-ie on Shoreline Road. “Sorry. Here we are.”

A painfully high screech rose from the backseat. “Look! The castle! It’s the mermaid’s castle!”

 

Eighteen years ago . . .

F
or maybe the first time in her life, Evie was up before her parents. She left a note so they wouldn’t freak out.
“Went for a quick run. Will be back by seven, plenty of time to finish packing.”

She needed to move, feel the sea air in her lungs, sense the oxygen fueling her blood. She took off, headed to nowhere but inside her own thoughts. She wished she knew where Clancy lived, but it suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t have a clue. It was like she was waking from a dream, where nothing had existed but Clancy, the boy—and now that she was ready to leave she wanted to know more about his life. Talk about bad timing. She knew almost nothing about the guy except that he had a brother and a sister and his ancestor thought he’d married a mermaid.

Oh, and one other thing—she was completely, totally, crazy in love with him.

Evie ran, pushing herself to go harder, driven to beat the sadness out of her body. She didn’t want to leave here, but so what? She was only fourteen, and her parents would make her go back to Maine. Besides, she had high school and college ahead of her, and if everything
went according to plan the next stop would be medical school, then residency . . . she had goals. Her life was well organized.

Then why, deep down inside her spirit, did she think she was supposed to be on Bayberry Island, with Clancy? Totally crazy of course. She would never tell anyone the thought had crossed her mind—not her mom, Amanda, or any of her friends. It would sound psycho coming from a girl like her, someone grown-ups liked to point to and say, “Now that’s a girl with her feet on the ground and her head on her shoulders.”

What did that even mean? It felt like she was being praised for not accidentally doing it the other way around. The expression made her sound as exciting as watching paint dry.

She cut through Fountain Square on her way back to the motel. The mermaid towered above everything, lit up by the first glow of sun. She watched the light brighten as it poured through the sailboat masts and over the brick warehouses at the water’s edge. All was still, strangely quiet. The island was just starting to wake up to the last day of festival week. For most tourists it was a sad day, the day they had to leave.

She listened closely, but the only sounds she heard were the tap of her own feet on the street, the rhythm of her breath, and the call of seabirds.

Cautiously, she raised her eyes to the Great Mermaid. Yeah, it was nuts, but it really felt like the statue knew she was there. But of course she didn’t. For more than a hundred years the metal mermaid had been gazing in one direction—right out to sea—and still was.

Evie slowed to a walk, deciding to begin her cooldown in the mermaid’s company. She approached the fountain with hands on hips, breath slowing down. She stretched her arms and waist, all the while examining her. For a big bronze statue, she sure looked lifelike. It didn’t take much imagination to see the way she would move through the rolling ocean, surface out of a wave only to
dive down again. She would let her arms trail along her sides while she sliced through the sea with whips of her strong tail, her hair flowing behind her like a web of watery silk.

Evie stood directly below the mermaid. She experienced something so strange—a sudden rush that felt like her heart would burst open with love and gratitude—for Clancy, for the beauty of this place, for her family. Just for a second, everything normal and boring felt priceless.

Oh, man, she knew this didn’t make any sense but she did it anyway. “Dear mermaid, I need to talk to you. I know I’m not supposed to do this when I have a particular boy in my head, but I can’t help it. His name is Clancy. He lives here. You probably know him. Just please listen while I tell you why you should bend your rules for us.”

Evie quickly checked her surroundings. She wanted to be sure there were no witnesses for what was about to happen. Satisfied, she reached up for the beautiful creature’s hand.

“Save him for me.” Her heart was pounding in her throat. “I’m not asking that you force him to feel a certain way, or stop him from having adventures or fun life experiences—because he’s only fourteen—but please, dear lady—if you think I am the right girl for him, save his true heart for me. My name is Evelyn McGuinness and I live in Bridgton, Maine, and one day I will come back to Bayberry Island.”

She kissed the mermaid’s hand, closing her eyes tightly.
“Please, oh Great Mermaid, let him still love me when I do.”

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