Whiskey Beach (40 page)

“Yeah, we could.”

“And that wouldn’t accomplish much. A conversation over a man I saw in a bar.”

“A man Lindsay cheated with, who bought property in Whiskey Beach.”

“Which Lawyer Landon tells me won’t hold up in court.”

Eli studied her, set her coffee on the counter. “It’s a step.”

“A small one on a very slow walk, and one that lets Suskind know
you
know. Doesn’t that forearm him?”

“A step that may spook him, even might influence him to leave Whiskey Beach. The threat here’s eliminated while the investigation into Duncan’s death continues, and we take the next steps to verifying the facts regarding the dowry, Edwin Landon, James Fitzgerald and so on.”

“‘Verifying the facts regarding’ is edging toward more lawyer talk.”

“Even when I practiced law, lawyer snark didn’t bother me.”

She sliced some butter into a heated skillet, smiled at him while it sizzled. “Such a fine line between truth and snark. In any case, action’s more satisfying than snark. We’ve got a shot, Eli, at proving he’s the one breaking into Bluff House. Prove that and it not only leads to hanging him for Hester’s fall, and that’s huge, I think, for both of us, but it adds weight to his association with Duncan. Link them together, and it’s a short slide to incriminating him for murder.”

“A lot of soft spots on that path.”

She poured beaten eggs into the skillet. “They hounded you for a year over Lindsay’s death, with less cause, with no evidence. I say we give karma a hand and let the man who, at the least, played a part in that experience the same.”

“Is ‘karma’ another word for ‘payback’ in this case?”

“You say potato.”

She plated eggs, fruit, slices of whole wheat bread she’d toasted. “Why don’t we eat in the morning room? We can watch the sun come up.”

“Before that, is it sexist for me to say I love watching you cook breakfast, especially in that robe?”

“It would be sexist if you expected or demanded it.” Slowly, she trailed her fingers down the side of the robe. “Enjoying it just shows you have good taste.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They carried the plates, the coffee into the morning room, sat in front of the wide bow of glass. Abra scooped up a bite of eggs.

“To continue that thought,” she added, “it would be sexist for you to think you need to get me safely out of the way before you follow through on the plan to lure Suskind into the house.”

“I didn’t say anything about that.”

“A woman in love is a mind reader.”

God, he hoped not, though she’d already showed that aptitude too often for comfort. “If we tried the lure, and if it worked, there’s no need for both of us to be here.”

“Fine. Where will you be while I video him from the passage?” Expression placid, she popped a berry into her mouth. “I’d need to be able to contact you as soon as it’s done.”

“Being a smart-ass before dawn’s annoying.”

“So is any attempt to protect the little woman. I’m not little, and I think I’ve already demonstrated I can handle myself.”

“I didn’t know I loved you when I first started talking about doing this. I hadn’t—wasn’t able—to open up to everything I feel for you. And it changes everything.” He laid a hand over hers. “Everything. I want the answers. I want the truth about what happened to Lindsay, to Gran, about everything that’s happened since I came back to Whiskey Beach. I want them on what happened two hundred years ago. But I could let it go, every bit of it, if I thought finding those answers could hurt you.”

“I know you mean that, and it just . . .” She turned her hand under his so their fingers linked. “It just fills me. But I need the answers, too, Eli. For us. So let’s trust each other to take care of each other, and find them together.”

“If you stayed at Maureen’s, I could signal you when and if he comes in. Then you could call the cops. They’d move in while he was here. Caught in the act.”

“And if I’m with you, I can contact the police from right here, while you run your famous video camera.”

“You just want to play in the secret passage.”

“Well, who wouldn’t? He hurt you, Eli. He hurt my friend. He would have hurt me. I’m not going to sit at Maureen’s. Together, or not at all.”

“That sounds like an ultimatum.”

“Because it is.” She lifted her shoulders, let them fall in the most casual gesture. “We can fight about it. You can get mad, I can be insulted. I just don’t see the point, especially on such a gorgeous morning when we’re in love. The point I see, Eli, is I’ve got your back. And I know you’ve got mine.”

What the hell was he supposed to do with that? “It might not work.”

“Negative thinking’s unproductive. Plus, past history and pattern say it will work. This could be over, Eli, or at the very least he could be in police custody, charged with breaking and entering, maybe destruction of property, by tonight. And he’d be questioned on all the rest.”

She leaned forward. “When that happens, Wolfe’s going to have his first taste of crow.”

“You had that ace up your sleeve,” Eli replied.

“It’s karma time, Eli.”

“All right. But we’re going to work this out, account for every contingency.”

She poured them both a second cup of coffee. “Let’s strategize.”

While they talked, the sun broke over the horizon, splashing gold over the night-dark sea.

Just another day, Eli thought when Abra dashed out for her morning class. Or it would seem so to anyone watching the movements, the comings, the goings, of Bluff House.

He walked the dog, crossing the beach at a light jog and in full view of Sandcastle. To please Barbie as much as to form a picture, he spent a little time throwing the ball for her, letting her splash into the water, swim out again.

Back home, she sprawled on the sunny terrace, and Eli went in to call his sister.

“Boydon Madhouse, and how are you, Eli?”

“Pretty good.” He held the phone an inch from his ear as shrill shrieks threatened to break his eardrum. “What the hell is that?”

“Selina strongly objects to being in time-out.” Tricia raised her own voice, and Eli made it two inches. “And the longer Sellie screams and misbehaves, the longer she’ll be in time-out.”

“What did she do?”

“Decided she didn’t want her strawberries at breakfast.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t seem—”

“So she threw them at me, which is why she’s in time-out. I have to change my shirt, which further means she’ll be late for day care and I’ll be late for the office.”

“Okay. This is a bad time. I’ll call you later.”

“We’re going to be late anyway, and I have to cool off so I don’t give my beloved child a strawberry facial. What’s up?”

“I dug up some old household and business ledgers. Really old, going back to the late 1700s, into the early 1800s. I’ve been going through them, pretty carefully, and I’ve come to some interesting conclusions.”

“Such as?”

“I’m hoping you have time to look them over yourself, and we’ll see if your conclusions jibe with mine.”

“You don’t want to give me a clue?”

Boy, he really wanted to. But . . . “I don’t want to influence you. Maybe I went off some shaky ledge.”

“You’ve got my attention. I’d love to play with them.”

“How about I scan you a few pages, just to give you a start? I should be able to come in, maybe the end of the week, bring the ledgers to you.”

“You could. Or Max, the currently time-outed Sellie and I could come up Friday evening, have a weekend at the beach and I can play with them.”

“Even better. But there’ll be no strawberries if they cause this reaction.”

“Usually she loves them, but girls do have their moods. I’ve got to go unshackle her, get us out of here. Send me what you can, and I’ll take a look.”

“Thanks. And . . . good luck.”

Following his morning agenda, he went up for his laptop. He sat out on the terrace, in view of Sandcastle, his trusty Mountain Dew on the table, as he scanned through his e-mails.

He opened one from Sherrilyn Burke first, began to read her updated report on Justin Suskind.

The man hadn’t spent much time at work since the last report, Eli noted. A day here and there, a handful of out-of-office meetings. The most interesting, Eli found, had been to a law firm where he met with an estate specialist. And stormed out, obviously angry.

“Didn’t get the answers you wanted,” Eli sympathized. “I know just how you feel.”

Through the report, he followed Suskind as he picked up his kids from school, took them to the park, to dinner, then home. His brief visit with his wife hadn’t gone any better than his meeting with the lawyer, as he’d left in visible temper to speed away.

At ten-fifteen the night before, he’d left his apartment with a suitcase, a briefcase and a storage box. He’d driven north out of Boston, stopping at an all-night supermarket for a pound of ground beef.

He’d made a second stop an hour later, veering off the highway to a twenty-four-hour box store where he’d purchased a box of rat poison.

Ground beef. Poison.

Without reading further, Eli surged to his feet.

“Barbie!”

He had a moment of sheer panic when he didn’t see her on the terrace. Even as he raced forward, she scrambled to her feet from where she sat at the top of the beach steps. Tail happily wagging, she trotted to him.

Eli simply went down to his knees, wrapped his arms around her. Love, he realized, could sometimes come fast, but it didn’t make it any less real.

“Fucker. The
fucker
.” Leaning back, Eli accepted the adoring licks. “He’s not going to hurt you. I’m not going to let him hurt you. You stick with me, girl.”

He led her back to the table. “You stay right here with me.”

In response she laid her head in his lap, sighed in contentment.

He read the rest of the report, then e-mailed back his own, which started with:

The bastard plans to poison my dog. If you’re in Whiskey Beach, don’t come here. I don’t want him wondering who you are. I’m done waiting around for him to make the next move.

He gave her an overview of what his research had unearthed, and the basics of what he’d done, and planned to do.

Planned to do rather than what he wanted to do right that minute—go straight to Suskind and kick the living shit out of him.

Temper still raw and ripe, Eli took his work and his dog back inside.

“No more going out by yourself until this bastard’s behind bars.”

He pulled out his phone when it rang, unsurprised to see Sherrilyn’s name on the display.

“This is Eli.”

“Eli, Sherrilyn. Let’s talk about this idea of yours.”

He heard the unsaid “stupid,” shrugged. “Sure. Let’s talk.”

He wandered the house as they spoke because it served to remind him what he was fighting for. And it had come down to a fight for him, even if he was denied the satisfaction of physical blows.

He walked to the third floor, and the curved glass of the gable where he imagined writing one day, once the fight was done and won, once he’d secured safety for all he loved, and his own self-respect.

“You’ve got some valid points,” he said at length.

“And you’re not going to listen to them.”

“I did listen to them, and you’re not wrong. The thing is, if I step back from this, let the police handle it all, or even let you, I’m back where I was a year ago. Just letting it all happen, letting the situation carry me instead of me carrying it. I can’t go back to that. I need to do this for myself, for my family. And in the end, I want him to know that. I need that when I think of Lindsay, my grandmother, this house.”

“You didn’t believe his wife.”

“No.”

“What did I miss?”

He lowered his hand to Barbie’s head when she leaned against him. “You said you had kids. You’re married.”

“That’s right.”

“How many times?”

She let out a laugh. “Just the one. It’s worked out pretty well.”

“That might be it. You haven’t gone through the dark side. Maybe I’m wrong and that’s what’s coloring it. But I don’t think so. The only way to be sure is to box him in. That’s what I’m going to do, here, on my turf. In my place.”

She let out a sigh. “I can help.”

“Yeah, I think you can.”

When he’d finished talking to her, he felt lighter somehow. “You know what?” he said to the dog. “I’m going to work for a couple hours, remind myself what my life’s supposed to be about. You can hang with me.”

He left the past, and what would come behind it, and went down to surround himself with the now.

A
BRA SWUNG INTO THE MARKET, LIST IN HAND.
S
HE’D FINISHED
back-to-back classes, and a sports massage on a client prepping for a 5K, and polished it off with a last-minute cleaning in a rental cottage. Now she just wanted to grab what she needed and get back to Eli.

Honestly, she thought, that’s what she’d like to do for the rest of her life. Get back to Eli.

But tonight could prove to be the turning point for him. For them. The point where they could begin to leave the questions and the pain of the past
in
the past, and start working toward tomorrow.

Whatever tomorrow brought, she’d be happy because he’d brought love back into her life. The kind of love that accepted, understood and—even better—enjoyed who and what she was.

Could there be anything more magical and marvelous than that?

She visualized lifting the little hand tote of baggage she still carried, then flinging it into the sea.

Done and gone.

But now wasn’t the time for dreaming, she reminded herself. Now was the time for doing. For righting wrong. And if there was some adventure mixed in, so much the better.

She reached up for her preferred counter spray—biodegradable, no animal testing—dropped it in her basket and turned.

She all but bumped into Justin Suskind.

She couldn’t stop the quick gasp, but tried to turn it quickly into a flustered apology even as her heart kicked like a startled mule.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Praying she didn’t tremble, she tried an easy smile she felt quiver at the edges.

He’d cut his hair, short, lightened it to a sun-streaked blond. Unless he’d spent the last two weeks catching rays, he’d made use of a self-tanner.

And she was reasonably sure he’d had his eyebrows waxed.

He gave her one hard stare, started to move on.

On impulse she shifted, used her elbow and knocked a few items from the shelf to the floor.

“God! I’m such a klutz today.” Crouching to retrieve them, she blocked his path. “Isn’t it always the way when you’re running behind schedule? I need to get home. My boyfriend’s taking me into Boston for dinner and a suite at The Charles, and I haven’t even decided what to wear.”

She rose with an armload of cleaning products, sent him an apologetic smile. “And I’m
still
in your way. Sorry.”

She stepped aside, began to shelve what she’d dropped, and resisted looking after him as she heard him walk away.

Now you know, she thought. Or you think you know. You won’t miss your
opportunity
any more than I could miss mine.

She ordered herself to complete her list, in case he was watching her. Even stopped to chat with one of her yoga students for a moment. Everything’s normal, she told herself. Just a quick stop at the market before your big night in Boston.

And because she was watching, she caught a glimpse of him sitting in a dark SUV in the lot as she put her market bags in the car. Deliberately she turned the radio up, checked her hair, dabbed on some lip gloss, then pulled out to drive home just a few miles over the speed limit.

As she turned into Bluff House, she watched in her rearview as Suskind continued on. Grabbing her bags, she dashed into the house.

“Eli!” After dumping the bags, she made the next dash up the stairs and veered toward his office.

As her shout had him up and out, they nearly ran into each other. “What? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I’m good. I also just earned the think-fast-and-act-your-ass-off award. I literally bumped into Suskind at the market.”

“Did he touch you?” Instinctively, Eli grabbed her arms, searched for injuries.

“No, no. He knew who I was, but I played dumb, or rather really smart. I knocked some things off the shelf so he couldn’t get by me, then babbled about being clumsy and being in a hurry because my guy was taking me to Boston for dinner and a night of whoopee at The Charles.”

“You talked to him? Jesus, Abra.”

“
At
him. He didn’t say a word, but he did wait for me to check out. He sat in his car in the lot, then followed me back. Eli, he thinks we’re going to be out of the house overnight. It’s his big chance. We don’t have to count on him watching and seeing us leave. He’s planning it all right now. It fell in our lap, Eli. It’s on tonight. This is it.”

“Was he following you? I mean before you left the store?”

“I . . . No, no, I don’t think so. He had a basket. He had things in a basket, and I don’t think he’d have gotten so close if he’d been watching me. It was fate, Eli. And fate’s on our side.”

He’d have called it chance, or maybe luck, but he wouldn’t argue. “I got a report from Sherrilyn. He stopped at two different markets, miles apart, on the way to Whiskey Beach.”

“Maybe he has a grocery store fetish.”

“No, he’s being careful, not buying his personal items from the same places he bought a pound of ground beef and a box of rat poison.”

“Rat poison? I’ve never heard of anyone seeing rats at . . . Oh God.” Shock hit first, then fury. “That—that son of a bitch. He plans to poison Barbie? That miserable excuse for a human being. It’s a good thing I didn’t know. I’d’ve given him another shot to the balls.”

“Easy, tiger. What time’s our reservation?”

“Our what?”

“For dinner.”

“Oh. I didn’t get that detailed.”

Eli checked his watch. “Okay, we should leave about six. You worked it out with Maureen?”

“Yes, they’ll keep Barbie. So we’ll just go as we planned. Leave here with the dog, drop her off at Maureen’s, then circle back on foot to the south side, then— Crap.”

She put her hands to her head, did a little dance in place. “Dinner date. I have to wear heels to make it look real. Okay, okay, I’ll stuff some sneakers in my bag, change shoes for the jog back. And don’t give me that look. Footwear’s important.”

“We need to talk it all through again, and I need to fill you in on how Sherrilyn’s playing into it.”

“Then let’s do it downstairs. I need to put away what I got at the market before my encounter. Then I need to figure out what to wear for our fake romantic evening-slash-ambush.”

He went over every angle, then went over them again from a different direction. He spent time in the passage, then behind the shelves, checking the scope of the video camera, testing it. Just a backup now, he thought.

If things went wrong, he had a secondary backup.

“You’re questioning yourself,” Abra said as she checked the lines and fit of the dress she’d put on over a black tank and yoga shorts.

“I used to believe in the system, absolutely. I was part of the system. Now I’m going around it.”

“No, you’re working through it, just in a different way. And even that’s a testament, Eli, when the system failed you. You have a right to defend your home, and a right to do whatever you can to clear your name.”

She added earrings not only to complete the look, but because they boosted her confidence. “You even have a right to enjoy it.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good because I am. And I’m going to. You look great. I’m definitely taking you to dinner in Boston and a night of whoopee when this is over.”

“I’d like that, but I have an even better idea. When this is over, you need to have the first of those parties you talked about. You need to have a blowout.”

“That is a better idea, but I’ll need help with it.”

“Fortunately I find myself not only free, but willing and able to help with it.”

He took her hand. “I think there’s a lot we need to talk about. After.”

“We have a long and I predict happy summer to talk about everything, anything.” She turned his wrist to check his watch. “It’s six on the dot.”

“Then we’d better get started.”

He carried down the overnights while Abra gathered what they’d packed for the dog. Downstairs, Eli contacted Sherrilyn.

“We’re leaving the house now.”

“You’re sure about this, Eli?”

“This is how I want to handle it. I’ll call again when we’re back in.”

“All right. I’ll move into position. Good luck.”

He switched the phone to vibrate, slipped it back into his pocket. “Here we go.”

Abra used two fingers to push up the corners of Eli’s mouth. “Happy face. Remember, you’re going out to dinner and a fancy hotel with a very hot woman, and odds are you’re going to get lucky several times.”

“Since we’re spending at least part of the evening in a dark passageway in a dark basement, and potentially the rest of it dealing with cops, will I still get lucky?”

“Guaranteed.”

“See my happy face?”

They walked outside.

“Do you know what I just love?” she asked him as she opened the back of the car for the dog, for the overnights. “I love that he’s watching us right now thinking
he’s
the one who’s getting lucky.”

Eli closed the door, pulled her into his arms. “Let’s give him a little show.”

“Happy to.” With enthusiasm, Abra wrapped around Eli, lifted her face for the kiss. “Teamwork,” she murmured against his mouth. “That’s how we do things in Whiskey Beach.”

He opened the passenger door. “Remember, once we get to Maureen’s we need to move fast. We don’t know how long he might wait.”

“Fast is my best speed.”

When they pulled up at Maureen’s, Eli grabbed the bag holding his change of clothes, Abra’s shoes.

Maureen had the door of the cottage open before they got to it. “Look, both of you, Mike and I have been talking, and—”

“Too late.” The instant she was inside, Abra yanked down the zipper of her dress. As she wiggled out of it, Eli pulled off his suit jacket, loosened his tie.

“If we just waited, watched, then called the police—”

“Something could spook him,” Eli said on his way to their powder room with jeans and a black T-shirt. “He could leave before they got there.”

“It’s more that”—Abra stepped out of her heels as Eli closed the door—“he needs to have a part in this. I need to help him. We’ve been over this.”

“I know that, but if he really killed someone—”

“He did.” To keep it simple, Abra sat on the floor to pull on sneakers. “It’s likely he killed two people. And tonight, we’re starting the chain holding the anchor that’s going to take him down for it.”

“You’re not crime fighters,” Mike began.

“We are tonight.” Abra hopped up as Eli stepped out. “We even look the part. Where are the kids?”

“Upstairs playing. They don’t know anything about this, and we didn’t want them to hear us talking you out of what they don’t know anything about.”

“They’ll have fun with Barbie.” She kissed Maureen, then Mike. “I’ll call you as soon as we’re done. Fast?” she said to Eli. “Out the back.”

“I’m right behind you.” He took one extra moment. “I won’t let anything happen to her. If there’s any chance of it, I’ll call it off.”

“Don’t let anything happen to either of you.” Hurrying after them, Maureen watched them cross the back of her cottage to the back of Abra’s. “Mike.” She reached back for his hand. “What should we do?”

“Get the kids, take the dog for a walk.”

“A
walk
?”

“On the beach, honey. We can see Bluff House, maybe keep an eye on things.”

Her hand squeezed his. “Good thinking.”

Eli unlocked the side door of Bluff House, quickly reset the alarm before turning to Abra. “Be sure.”

“Stop it.” With that, she led the way to the basement. “It’s barely ten after six. We were fast.”

Once the door shut behind them, Eli switched on his flashlight to lead the way down and through the passage. It could take minutes, he thought, or hours. But he went with the odds. “He’ll probably wait until dusk, maybe even dark, figuring he has all night.”

“Whatever it takes.” She edged behind the shelves with him and into the passage.

For now they used the overhead light. Abra took her position on the steps to check the laptop monitor and the nanny cam they’d set up on the third floor. Eli checked the video camera once again as he contacted Sherrilyn.

“We’re inside the passage.”

“No movement from Suskind yet. I’ll let you know when and if.”

“It’ll be when.”

“Positive thinking,” Abra approved when Eli put the phone away.

“He sure as hell didn’t come back here to surf or sunbathe. This is his goal, this is his chance to try for it again. Once he leaves Sandcastle, we go to dark.”

“And all quiet, like a submarine. I’ve got it, Eli. If he goes to the third floor, the nanny cam will record him. If he comes down here, and that’s most likely, we do. The sun sets in less than two hours, if he waits that long. We’ve probably got some time to pass.”

And now they were closed in, without even enough room to pace off the tension.

“Should’ve brought a deck of cards,” he commented. “Since we didn’t, why don’t you tell me how you’d do a yoga studio if you had one.”

“Oh, hopes and dreams? I can pass lots of time that way.”

She passed less than an hour before she stopped, angled her head. “Is that the phone? The house phone?”

“Yeah. It could be anyone.”