The Cabin. Carla Neggers
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Tess swooped to her feet. “God, you’re impossible. If you get kidnapped and held for ransom, don’t expect me to come here and figure out how to fork over the money.” She hoisted her microfiber satchel onto her shoulder. “I’ve got to run. I have one more devil of a client meeting.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Susanna, please—you’ll think about what I said?”
“Tess, you know I will—I appreciate your concern. Thanks for stopping by.”
“Come up sometime. Bring the girls. I know it’s winter, but the ocean’s still beautiful.”
After Tess left, Susanna stood at the tall, arched windows overlooking historic Old Granary Burial Ground, snow drifting against its thin, centuries-old tombstones. No radical changes in her life. Who was she kidding?
Tess was right.
As if to prove her point, the doorman buzzed her and announced Destin Wright was there to see her. Susanna dropped back onto her desk chair and felt an instant headache coming on. She’d been putting Destin off for days. She sighed. How could telling her husband about ten million dollars and a murder suspect showing up in their kitchen be any harder than dealing with Destin Wright? She said into the intercom, “Send him up.”
He would take the old elevator, she knew, not the stairs, and he’d find a way to irritate her within twenty seconds of arriving in her office. She got up and unlocked the door, just so she wouldn’t have to let him in.
He didn’t knock. He pushed open the translucent glass door and grinned at her. “Yo, Susanna. How’s it going? Was that Tess I just saw leaving the building?”
“Yes, she stopped in for a visit—”
“I wasn’t invited to her wedding, you know.”
Susanna felt the blood pulse behind her eyes. “Destin, you and Tess aren’t even friends.”
“What? We grew up together.”
“You’re ten years older than she is.”
“So?”
Susanna gave up. Destin Wright had grown up on the next street over from her grandmother’s house, never, apparently, making a secret of his desire to get out of the neighborhood at his first opportunity. He was in his mid-forties and fit the stereotype of the preppy Harvard grad with his blond good looks, except he’d quit a local junior college after one semester. He’d started an Internet company a few years ago and made millions, then went broke almost overnight. He’d had a fun idea, but no real business plan, no profits—and wildly expensive tastes. Now he wanted to start over. With Susanna’s help.
“Destin...”
He held up a hand. “No, wait. Hang on. I’m not here to pester you about money.” He grinned sheepishly, as if he’d known he’d pushed her too far with his various comeback schemes. He was charming, energetic and incredibly self-centered, with a sense of entitlement that knew no bounds. He had on an expensive camel coat left over from his high-on-the-hog days. “I just wanted to tell you I followed your advice and wrote up a business plan. The whole nine yards.”
“Good for you, Destin.”
He scratched the back of his neck, eyeing her. “I was thinking you could take a look at it. As a favor.”
Susanna shook her head, adamant. “You know I’m not getting involved in this project. I’ve told you. This isn’t what I do, even if I thought it was a good idea to help out someone from Gran’s neighborhood.”
“One little look?”
“No. I’m sorry. I can recommend people—”
“I can’t pay anyone. Come on, Suze, you know the score. I need to do a deal, barter a little. I’ve downsized as much as I can. Hell, I’m about to have my BMW repossessed.”
How he’d ever pulled together the attention span and backing to start a company in the first place was beyond Susanna. Luck, guts, flare, charisma, just enough skill. If he’d come to her sooner, she might have been able to help him save some of his personal wealth when the dot-com craze came crashing back to earth, but the same relentless optimism that had drawn Destin Wright into starting a risky business made him stick with it too long. He just hadn’t seen the bottom coming. When he hit, he hit hard.
“I just need some angel money,” he said, unable to resist.
“If you have a good idea, you’ll get it. But not from me.”
“A hundred grand would get me off the ground—”
“Not a dime, Destin.” She’d learned from hard experience that she had to be very clear and very straight with him. Subtle didn’t work with Destin. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“You could be a founding partner. Suze, you’re bored, you know you are. This’d be exciting, a new company, your business experience and smarts hooked up with my ideas and energy.” He paused, obviously waiting to see if his words were having any impact on her. When they didn’t, he sighed. “Okay, okay. You’ve got a full well, and you don’t want me dipping in my rusting, leaking bucket. I understand.” He was remarkably good-humored for a man who’d been told no for at least the fourth time. He grinned suddenly. “I’ll just have to work harder to convince you. If you could take two seconds and peek at my business plan—”
“I can offer you cookies and a cup of bad coffee,” Susanna said. “That’s it.”
He dropped a shiny black folder on her desk. “If you get a chance,” he said, leaving it at that. He started for the door. “I’ll see you around the neighborhood. You know, people are starting to talk about how much money you have. I heard one guy say he thought it was at least five million.”
“People like to talk.”
“If you’re worth five million, you wouldn’t miss a hundred grand, even if you threw it down the toilet, and I’d—”
“Destin.” She shook her head, unable to suppress a laugh. “Look, I’ll talk to some people. If this idea doesn’t work out, another one will. You’ll be okay.”
But he barely heard her. He hadn’t come for a pep talk from her. He wanted free advice and money. He headed out, and Susanna sank back against her chair, wrung out. Destin never knew when to quit—and sometimes she wondered if she quit too soon.
She thought of Jack, what he might be doing late on a Thursday afternoon. Would he quit on her? Had she already quit on him?
Her eyes filled with sudden tears, and she quickly shut down her computer and packed up her briefcase, turned off the coffeepot. It had been a lousy day, but at least tonight was chowder night at Jim’s Place.
Five
Jack unlocked the door to his empty house and stood in the kitchen, staring at a picture of Maggie and Ellen on the refrigerator. He’d taken it over the holidays. They had their midwinter break coming up, but they were spending it in the Adirondacks at Susanna’s new cabin. Snowshoeing. Cross-country skiing. “Freezing our butts off,” Maggie had said less