Whiskey Beach, Page 27

  and ways for the servants to get up and down without running into family or guests. One of the first things Hester did once they took over the house was have them closed up. Eli made the mistake of telling her how kids had gotten lost and locked in behind the walls. He made half of it up, I expect, that was his way to a good story. But she put her foot down. I closed them up myself, me and three I hired on for the job. What she didn’t close off she opened up—the breakfast room, another bed and bath on the second floor.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “She was carrying your father when we did the work. Everybody who’s lived in Bluff House put their stamp on it one way or the other. What are you planning?”

  “I haven’t thought about it. It’s my grandmother’s house.”

  Stoney smiled, nodded. “Bring her back home.”

  “That I am planning on. Maybe you could give me a better idea where those passages were.”

  “Can do better.” Stoney picked up a bar napkin, rooted a pencil out of his pocket. “My hands aren’t as handy as they once were, but nothing’s wrong with my brain cells or memory.”

  They closed the place down. Though Stoney outdrank him two for one, Eli was damn glad he wouldn’t drive home. And just as glad when Stoney told him he was on foot.

  “We’ll give you a lift,” Eli told him.

  “No need for that. I barely live a Stoney’s throw from here.” He cackled at his own joke. “And it looks to me like I’ve got another Landon eyeing my girl.”

  “I don’t know if this one can fix my screen door.” Abra tucked her arm through Stoney’s. “I’ll take Eli’s keys and drive all three of us home.”

  “I didn’t bring my car. I figured I’d ride home with you.”

  “I walked.”

  Eli frowned down at her high black heels. “In those?”

  “No. In these.” She pulled a pair of green Crocs out of her bag. “And it looks like I’m putting them back on because we’re all walking home.”

  She changed her shoes, zipped into a jacket. When they stepped outside she took each man by the hand. “Looks like I won tonight’s jackpot. Two handsome men.”

  Both of whom, she thought as they walked, were just a little bit drunk.

  Over his objections, they detoured to walk Stoney to the door of his trim little house. The sound of high-pitched barking sounded before they were within two yards.

  “All right, Prissy! All right!”

  The barks turned to excited whines. “The old girl’s half blind,” Stoney said, “but she’s got her hearing. Nobody gets past old Prissy. You two go on now. Go do what healthy young people ought to be doing on a Friday night.”

  “I’ll see you Tuesday.” Abra kissed his cheek.

  They strolled away, but waited until the lights switched on before veering back toward the shore road. “Tuesday?” Eli asked.

  “I clean for him every other Tuesday.” She hitched her bag more securely on her shoulder. “He and his Mary, I never got to meet her. She died five years ago. They had three kids. A son and two daughters. The son’s in Portland—Maine—one of the daughters lives in Seattle. The closest one is in D.C., but they manage to visit him pretty regularly. And there’s grandchildren, too. There are eight, and five great-grandchildren so far. He can take care of himself, but it doesn’t hurt to have somebody right here looking in from time to time.”

  “So you clean his place every other week.”

  “And run errands. He doesn’t do much driving anymore. His next-door neighbor has a kid about ten who’s crazy about Stoney, so he rarely gets a day when somebody’s not dropping in or calling. I’m fairly crazy about him myself. If I marry him, he’s promised to build me my own yoga studio.”

  “I could . . .” Eli considered his carpentry skills. “I could have a yoga studio built for you.”

  On a flutter of eyelashes, she tipped her face up to his. “Is that a proposal?”

  “What?”

  She laughed, curled her arm through his. “I should’ve warned you Stoney has an impressive capacity for alcohol. He likes to say he was reared on the whiskey of Whiskey Beach.”

  “We were switching off. He bought the first round, so I bought the second. Then he bought a third, and I felt obligated. I don’t quite remember how many times I felt obligated. There’s an awful lot of fresh air out here.”

  “There is.” She tightened her hold when he weaved a bit. “And gravity, too. This place is lousy with air and gravity. We should get inside. My place is closer.”

  “Yeah, we could . . . except I don’t like leaving the house empty. It feels wrong.”

  With a nod, she forgot the shorter walk. “It’s good for you to walk in the fresh air and gravity anyway. I’m glad you came in tonight.”

  “I wasn’t going to, but I kept thinking about you. Then there was the whole Easter thing happening.”

  “The Easter Bunny came already?”

  “What? No.” Now he laughed, the sound rolling down the empty street. “He hasn’t finished laying the eggs yet.”

  “Eli, the Easter Chicken lays the eggs. The bunny hides them.”

  “Whatever, they’re doing it at Bluff House this year.”

  “They are?” She glanced at her cottage as they passed, but didn’t think she should run in for a quick change of clothes. She might come out and find him curled up asleep in the middle of the road.

  “That’s what my mother said. They’re all coming up on Saturday.”

  “That’s great. Hester’s able to travel?”

  “She’s going to talk to the doctor first, but it looks good for it. The whole bunch of them. There’s stuff I have to do first. I can’t think what it is right now, except I don’t have to bake a ham. But you have to come.”

  “I’ll drop in, sure. I’d love to see them, Hester especially.”

  “No.” While he felt slightly steadier with the sea breeze blowing, Eli had a sudden, wicked craving for potato chips. Or pretzels. Or just about anything that would sop up some of the excess beer in his belly.

  “You have to be there,” he continued, “for the thing. Easter. I thought I should tell my mother we were seeing each other so it wouldn’t be weird. Then it got weird, like I’d won a blue ribbon or something, then she started crying.”

  “Oh, Eli.”

  “She said happy crying, which I don’t get, but women do.” He glanced down at her for verification.

  “Yes, we do.”

  “So it’s probably going to be weird, but you have to come anyway. I need to buy stuff. And things.”

  “I’ll put stuff and things on the list.”

  “Okay.” He weaved again. “It’s not the beer, it’s the bumps. . . . My grandfather used to drive a motorcycle with a sidecar. I didn’t know that. It seems like I should have. I didn’t know there used to be servants’ passages in the house. There’s too much I don’t know. Look at it.”

  Bluff House stood silhouetted in starlight, illuminated from within. “I’ve taken it for granted.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “Too much of it. I haven’t paid attention, especially in the last few years. Too wrapped up in my own stuff, and couldn’t seem to roll my way out of it. I need to do better.”

  “Then you will.”

  He stopped a moment, smiled at her. “I’m a little drunk. You look amazing.”

  “I look amazing because you’re a little drunk?”

  “No. Some of it’s just knowing who you are and being good with it, doing what you do, and, well, being happy doing it. And some of it’s those sea-witch eyes and that sexy mouth with that little mole right there. Lindsay was beautiful. She took your breath away.”

  A little drunk, Abra reminded herself. Allowances could be made. “I know.”

  “But she, I think, she didn’t really know who she was, and wasn’t good with it. She wasn’t happy. I didn’t make her happy.”

  “Everyone has to make themselves happy first.”


  “Now you remember.”

  “I remember.” He leaned down to kiss her, there in the shadows of the great house under a sky mad with stars. “I need to sober up some because I want to make love with you, and I want to be sure I remember that, too.”

  “Then let’s make it unforgettable.”

  The minute they were inside and he’d punched in the alarm code, he pulled her against him.

  She welcomed his mouth, his hands, but eased away. “First things first,” she said, drawing him through the house. “What you need is a big glass of water and a couple aspirin. Hydration and hangover anticipation. And I’m going to have a glass of wine so you’re not so far ahead of me.”

  “Fair enough. I really want to tear your clothes off.” He blocked her, shoved her back against the counter. “Just tear them off because I know what’s under them, and it drives me crazy.”

  “Looks like we’re going to get to the kitchen floor this time.” With his teeth at her throat, she dropped her head back. “I think it’s going to live up to the hype.”

  “Just let me . . . wait.”

  “Oh, sure, now it’s wait after you’ve—”

  “Wait.” He set her aside, his face stony now. She followed his gaze to the alarm panel.

  “How did you manage to smudge that up? I’ll clean it tomorrow,” she said, reaching for him.

  “I didn’t.” He stepped over, examined the door. “I think the door’s been forced. Don’t touch anything,” he snapped when she went to him. “Call the police. Now.”

  She dug into her bag, then her hands froze when he pulled a knife out of the block. “Oh God, Eli.”

  “If there’s any trouble, you run. Do you hear me? You go out that door and you run, and don’t stop until you’re safe.”

  “No, and now you wait.” She punched numbers on the phone. “Vinnie, it’s Abra. Eli and I just got back to Bluff House. We think someone’s broken in. We don’t know if he’s still here. In the kitchen. Yes. Yes. Okay. He’s coming,” she told Eli. “He’s calling it in on the way. He wants us to stay right where we are. If we see or hear anything, we go out, and get gone.”

  Her heart picked up another speed when she saw Eli’s gaze turn toward the basement door. “If you go down there, I go down there.”

  Ignoring her, he walked to the door, turned the knob. “It’s locked from this side. The way I left it.” Still holding the knife, he walked to the back door, unlocked it, opened it, then crouched.

  “Fresh marks here. Back door, facing the beach at night. Nobody to see. He had to know I wasn’t here. How did he know?”

  “He must be watching the house. He must have seen you leave.”

  “On foot,” Eli remembered. “If I’d just been taking a walk, I might have been gone for ten, fifteen minutes. It’s a lot of risk.”

  “He might’ve followed you, seen you go into the bar. A calculated risk that he’d have more time.”

  “Maybe.”

  “The alarm pad.” Still wary, Abra edged a bit closer. “I’ve seen that somewhere—TV, movies—I thought it was just made up. Spraying something on the pad so the oil from fingerprints comes up. You know what numbers have been pressed. Then a computer thing runs different patterns until it breaks the code.”

  “Something like that. It’s how he might’ve gotten in before, when my grandmother was here. He could’ve gotten her keys, made copies. Just let himself the fuck in after that. But he didn’t know we’d changed the code, so he cut the power the last time when the old code didn’t work.”

  “That makes him stupid.”

  “Maybe desperate or panicked. Maybe just pissed off.”

  “You want to go down there. I can see it. You want to know if he started digging again. Vinnie will be here any minute.”

  If he went down and she came with him, and anything happened, he’d be responsible. If he went down and she stayed put, and anything happened, he’d be responsible.

  So, Eli concluded, he was stuck.

  “I was gone about three hours. God damn it, I gave him a nice, big window.”

  “What are you supposed to do? Pull a Miss Havisham and never leave the house?”

  “The alarm system sure isn’t doing any good. We’re going to have to beef that up.”

  “Or something.” She heard the wail of sirens. “That’s Vinnie.”

  Eli slid the knife back into the block. “Let’s go let him in.”

  Cops swarmed his house again. He was getting used to it. He drank coffee, and walked the house with them, starting with the basement.

  “Determined bastard,” Vinnie remarked as they studied the trench. “He got another couple feet in. He must’ve brought in more tools, and took them away with him this time.”

  Eli glanced around to make sure Abra hadn’t come down. “I think he’s crazy.”

  “Well, he ain’t smart.”

  “No, Vinnie, I think he’s crazy. He’d risk breaking in, again, to spend a couple hours hacking at this floor? There’s nothing here. I talked to Stoney Tribbet tonight.”

  “Now there’s a character.”

  “He is, and he also said something that makes clear sense. Why would anyone bury anything here? It’s damn hard dirt and rock, or a lot of it is. It’s why we never bothered to lay concrete. If you bury something—excluding a body—don’t you usually intend to dig it back up, at some point?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Then why make it so damn much work? Bury it in the garden, plant a fucking bush over it. Out front where the ground’s softer, or where it’s mostly sand. Or don’t bury it at all, but hide it under floorboards, behind a wall. If I’m looking for the damn treasure, I’m not going to use a pick and shovel down here. Or if I’m crazy enough to believe it’s here, I’m going to wait until I know the house is empty for a couple days—like it is when my grandmother visits Boston—and I’m going to go at it with a jackhammer.”

  “I’m not going to argue, but this is what it is. I’m going to let Corbett know about this, and we’ll increase the patrol. We’re going to make noise about the extra patrols.” Vinnie added, “If he’s in the area, he’ll hear about it. It should give him second thoughts about trying this again.”

  Eli doubted second thoughts would stop anyone willing to risk so much for a legend.

  Seventeen

  IN THE MORNING, ABRA RETURNED TO BLUFF HOUSE FROM her tai chi class via the market, then detoured for a secondary stop. She couldn’t guarantee Eli’s reaction to what she’d picked up, but she had a pretty good idea what it would be—initially.

  They’d work around it. Or, she admitted, she’d work around him. Not entirely fair, and she really hated to manipulate. But in this case, she firmly believed it was for the best.

  She gauged her time as she unloaded the car. She had not only her regular cleaning on the slate, but the reordering after the police search. But no reason she couldn’t get it all done, maybe throw a meal together, then get home for her in-house yoga class.

  It was all about prioritizing.

  She stepped inside, instantly recalculated everything as instead of working in his office, Eli stood at the counter pouring coffee.

  “I thought you’d be working.”

  “I was. Am. I needed a walk around to think through . . .” He trailed off as he turned and looked down at the big brown dog currently sniffing at his pants leg. “What’s this?”

  “That’s Barbie.”

  “Barbie? Seriously?” Automatically, he scratched the wide head between the ears.

  “I know. Barbie’s blond and busty, but dogs don’t really get to choose their names.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye