didn’t. You just told me you had been.”
Great. First I was humiliated and now I was tricked. “But why would you even ask me that?”
“Vivi handed me the keys and asked me to give them to you. I figured something was up.”
Vivi did that? Life was full of surprises. She must have heard my conversation with Deputy Biffle and figured it out. Or Rhett had called a cease-fire to the feud long enough to tell Vivi he had found me sleeping on the boat.
“Why didn’t she just give them to me herself?”
Joaquín sighed. “As I’ve told you, she has a good heart. It seems like it was dislike at first sight with you two, so I’ve become the middleman.”
“That’s not true. I don’t dislike her.” Was it? Maybe I resented that she wasn’t who I thought she’d be. In my head, I’d pictured swooping in to save the day. It had been my noble cause since the day I’d heard Boone had gone missing. His grandma would be grateful. I’d be lauded. The reality was so vastly different from the notion.
“I’m fine.” I pushed the keys back to Joaquín. My parents had taught me to stand on my own two feet. Moving into Boone’s place seemed like taking charity.
He pushed the keys back to me. “It’s what Boone would have wanted.”
Boone. Of course that was true. Boone would have given his left arm to someone if they’d needed it. It’s why he’d joined the National Guard.
Joaquín scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Boone’s address.”
I curled my hand around the keys. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Vivi.”
Maybe this could be a new beginning for Vivi and me. “I will.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, I rounded one of the coastal lakes, drove down a long, tree-lined driveway, and parked in front of a one-story, concrete-block house that crouched on top of a sand dune. There were tall pine trees on the right side of the house. To the left, there was a patch of brush, scrub oak, magnolia, and then, farther off, more tall pines. I glimpsed the lights of another house through the trees. I felt like Amanda in the very first Goosebumps book by R. L. Stine, when she’d thought, “It’s so dark.”
I grabbed a suitcase and climbed a set of rickety wooden steps. I had to use the flashlight on my phone to see. I could hear the slap of waves, but nothing else. No cars. No sirens. No conversations. It was creepy for a city girl like me. The soft tang of saltwater mingled with the fresh pine scent as I unlocked the heavy wooden door. It complained a bit as I forced it open. I flipped on a light, took two steps inside, and stopped. The whole back side of the house was glass windows and one door looking out on . . . was that the Gulf? Wow. If the yellow brick road had ended here, Dorothy might have kept Kansas in her rearview mirror.
I set down my suitcase, closed and locked the front door, skirted the furniture, and unlatched the flimsy lock of the aluminum door at the back. It led to a screened-in porch that ran across the entire back of the house. The sound of the Gulf was louder here. Warm, damp air surrounded me. Even in the dark I could make out the white beach and the black Gulf beyond it.
Why hadn’t Boone ever mentioned this place? I frowned and thought back over conversations about his visits here. Remembered something about Vivi liking her privacy, so he crashed in a family place. He’d never mentioned it was his or that it was on the beach.
I crossed the porch to a screen door with another flimsy lock. I unlocked it and went out onto a set of three steps that led to a wooden walkway. It went over the sea grass on the dune down to the beach. The Gulf was inky black, calm. Beautiful. After I stood for a few minutes, I went back in, turned on more lights, and began looking around. The house was small, but someone had spent time updating it so the main room was an open living, kitchen, and dining room. There was a bedroom and bath on either side. Each room had a ceiling fan, and I flipped them on. The air smelled a bit musty. I found a thermostat and turned it down so the air conditioner kicked on. As much as I didn’t like manufactured cold air, without it, mold would soon take over. And as a plumber’s daughter, I know: better cold than mold.
I chose the bedroom that had sliding glass doors out to the screened porch and tossed my suitcase on the bed before heading to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator. A twelve-pack of Boone’s favorite beer was inside. I grabbed a bottle. It felt like he was welcoming me. I found an opener in the drawer, popped the top off, and wandered back out to the porch. It was furnished with a wicker chaise lounge, couch, rocker, and coffee table. The chaise and couch had lime-green cushions. On the other side of the porch was a wooden porch swing. I took a swig of my beer as I settled on a wicker couch that creaked and popped.
“Thank you, Boone.” I held up my beer in a toast. “I’ll keep my promise, even though Vivi doesn’t want me here.” I looked out at the Gulf. “Vivi doesn’t need me either. I wish I would have asked you why you wanted me here when I had the chance.”
CHAPTER 7
The sky was just getting light when I woke up on Monday morning. I’d left the slider ajar so the waves would lull me to sleep. I’d stuck a yardstick in the tracks to keep it from opening too far, so I wouldn’t have to worry about being murdered in my sleep. You can take a girl out of the city but . . . well, you know. Anyway, the open slider worked great, and I’d slept better than I had since I’d arrived. Of course, sleeping in a bed rather than on a boat or in my car didn’t hurt. Considering what had happened to Elwell yesterday, I was surprised I’d slept at all.
I threw on jogging shorts and a sports bra, trotted down the stairs to the beach, and headed west toward the Sea Glass. I wondered how close it was as the pelican flies. To get here last night I’d had to follow the road that skirted the other side of the lake. I had a feeling it was much closer this way. The beach between Boone’s house and the Sea Glass was state land protected from development, according to a small sign. The lake and a stand of tall pines must be part of the preserve too.
The sand down by the water’s edge was almost as solid as concrete and much easier to run on than the soft sand above. My feet seemed to slap out Elwell Pugh, Elwell Pugh. Sanderlings—small shore birds—darted away, escaping me and the waves as I ran along. They pecked at the sand for something too tiny for me to see even when I stopped and ran in place to watch.
I passed the lake, seventy-five yards, three-quarters of a football field to my right. Compared to Lake Michigan, this was a pond that was given the grander name of lake. It was surrounded by pines on three sides. Giants protecting lily pad–covered water. Monet probably would have liked to paint the scene given the chance. I hoped there weren’t any alligators in the lake. I glanced over, didn’t see anything, but sped up a bit anyway, just in case any were submerged, waiting for someone like me to pass by.
Ten minutes later, I was in front of the Sea Glass. It would be fun to run to work if the weather wasn’t so hot. I was already dripping with sweat. From what the locals had told me, it would cool off around October, but I would be back in Chicago by then. My boss had allowed me to take a leave of absence, but it wouldn’t last forever. We’d left it vague—a few weeks.
Ack, and I’d have to find a new apartment. Chicago was so expensive, it wouldn’t be easy to find something close to my library on what I made. I supposed I could live out in the suburbs in one of my brother’s
