no emotions whatsoever in the face of this horrible, horrible development in her husband’s ongoing case.”
* * *
“What a prick!” Gia said upon seeing the report the next day at noon while she and Lana were in the beautifully decorated kitchen of her home. It was her new favorite room in the house. Lana had turned what was once a cold, austere place into a warm, inviting room that was now deservedly the center of the home. She loved the rich earth tones of the tile on the floor and the cabinets and the deep red of the backsplash. There were two islands, one for food preparation, the other for family and guests to gather around to eat the meals Gia and her husband would cook. They were both budding chefs who loved feeding friends and family.
Lana looked across one of the islands into the face of the woman she had come to consider a friend. During the three months it had taken her to redecorate Gia’s home, they had shared confidences. Lana had told her she suspected Jeremy was still alive and was guilty of the charges leveled against him. Gia had told Lana that at first Derek had married her to spite his overprotective rich parents, but they had fallen in love and now they were devoted to each other. So much so that Derek had given his blessings when she’d told him she wanted to hire Lana to decorate their home. Gia had to promise Derek not to gloat about it to her mother-in-law. That admittedly took some fun out of it for Gia, but she agreed to her husband’s terms. Now she and Lana were sitting on high stools enjoying cups of Colombian coffee. Lana’s eyes were on the TV. Gary Randall had just made that comment about her being a cool customer. Yet, Lana Corday was anything but the emotionless character that Gary Randall was trying to convince everyone she was. Lana fought back tears.
Gia got up and turned the TV off. “Enough of that,” she said with a grin. She spun around on her designer heels. “It’s time to pay up for the fantastic job you did. And I haven’t forgotten I promised you anything you asked for. So...” She whipped out her checkbook and stood with a pen poised over it.
Lana laughed. “Please, Gia, there is already one too many con artists in my family. Just pay me what we agreed on and not one penny over the going rate for my expertise, thank you very much!”
“I didn’t mean anything by that, Lana, I promise you. I was joking.”
“I know that,” Lana assured her. “You were just having fun, something that has been missing from my life for a while now. But I do still recognize it when I see it.”
Lana wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t wasting any more tears on men like Gary Randall or Jeremy. “So, no apology needed.”
Gia brightened. As she wrote the check, she said, “Have you ever thought of getting out of town for a while? Just for a change of scenery? I mean, why subject yourself to the likes of Gary Randall when you could be elsewhere?”
“Just stubborn, I guess,” Lana told her as she accepted the check. “I haven’t done anything wrong and I’m not going to let them chase me out of town.”
Gia smiled at her. “I can understand that. I come from a lot of stubborn Greeks who never ever give up. But everybody needs a break sometime. Isn’t there any place you go that instantly puts you in a peaceful state of mind?”
Home, was the first thought in Lana’s head, the Outer Banks of North Carolina. She had grown up on the northernmost tip of Cape Hatteras Island where the people were tough and resilient like the land. Her dad used to say living in the Outer Banks was equivalent to going through the trials of Hercules. Hurricane season in the Outer Banks was oftentimes treacherous. The Atlantic Ocean was a cauldron and battered the area, wiped it clean and afforded Mother Nature another opportunity to start fresh. The storms were like life’s tribulations, if you survived them you grew stronger.
“That would be the Outer Banks of North Carolina where I was born and raised,” Lana told Gia.
“Then go home!” said Gia triumphantly.
“And look like a failure?” Lana said. “No, I’m not going home until I’m firmly back on my feet. That means not until my business is going well again. Or that bastard Jeremy gets caught and pays for what he did.”
“Girlfriend, I think you have too much pride,” Gia said frankly. “If I were in your situation, I’d be home in the bosom of my family getting as much support as I could. My family was poor but we loved each other! Is that it? You don’t think your dad wants you there?”
Lana had to laugh. “Just the opposite,” she told Gia. “If my dad had his way I would never have left Pea Island.”
* * *
“Damn it!” Aaron Braithwaite spat out as he struggled to pull the kayak onto the beach. What had he been thinking taking Bowser fishing with him? He laughed at his ill-conceived decision. The two-year-old yellow Lab had gotten so excited when Aaron had landed a five-pound redfish that he tried to grab the fish in his jaws as Aaron pulled the hook out of the fish’s mouth. Aaron had jerked around, trying to prevent the fish from winding up as dog food and had lost his balance. It was a good thing they weren’t too far from shore that fine July morning. Man, dog and fish wound up in the ocean. Used to being dunked, Aaron had managed to get the kayak righted, and he and Bowser back on board. The fish unfortunately ended up back in its element, the sea.
“Next time, you stay home,” he said to Bowser who looked up at him and wagged his tail. The dog whined plaintively as if he knew his master was berating him and he had something to say in his defense.
Aaron laughed. “So, you think I’m being unjust, do you? Well, you weren’t the one who had to save both our asses.”
Bowser whined again. He went up to Aaron and licked his hand.
“Okay, I know you’re sorry,” Aaron said. “And I admit I should have known a kayak was no place for a dog. Let’s get home and get dry.” The temperature was in the lower sixties and the wind was blowing pretty fiercely. Before long he would be chilled to the bone.
He began walking toward the three-story beach house only 150 feet away. The house had weathered many lashings from Outer Banks storms. Gray with white trim, it had multiple decks and, due to the big porthole-like windows, from a distance looked like a ship that had run aground.
Aaron smiled. When he was a fisherman he never would have been able to afford such a house. But now that he was a mystery writer, and a very successful one, he lived very well. Once again, every time he thought of how happy he was his mind took him to his daughter whose life, by contrast, was not a happy one.
The father in him wanted to demand that she come home. The realist knew that demanding anything of Lana, who was as stubborn as he was, was a sure way of getting her to dig her feet in and refuse to budge.
It was his fault. After his wife, Mariette, had died in an accident when Lana was eight he had raised her to be independent. Afraid that if he should die Lana would be left helpless, he stressed strength and determination within her. He taught her everything he knew about fishing and, a runner himself, he introduced her to the sport and was surprised when she took to it and ran circles around him.
Aside from fishing and running, Lana knew as much about the flora and fauna of Pea Island, parts of which were a nature reserve, as he did. If need be, she could live off the land for the rest of her life. Admittedly he had gone overboard with the survivalist agenda, but he was secure in the notion that his daughter could take care of herself in a pinch. This thing with Jeremy Corday, though, was not a physical challenge. It was something that ate away at her heart and soul. He feared more for her now
