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Whiskey Beach, Page 49

Nora Roberts


  “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.

  Twenty-nine

  ABRA SWUNG INTO THE MARKET, LIST IN HAND. SHE’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