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“So, why didn’t you have her removed? Why didn’t you pick her up, the moment you heard about this?”
“Because I’m certain, if I run, they’ll find me.” She raises a trembling hand to her face and wipes at a tear that streaks down her cheek. “If something happens to me, I need someone to know. To protect my daughter. That’s why I told Nell.”
“And you don’t trust Lucian to protect her.”
“I want to. But how can you trust the man who funds these people?”
Funds them. My mind scrambles to wrap itself around what she’s telling me. Lucian funds a secret group who pay to torture people. Pay to torture. No matter how many times I repeat it in my head, it still comes out wrong. “Who are these people?”
“You met some of them at the masquerade. They’re powerful and wealthy. And they have co
“How could you not know this would happen? That they would be watching you after? That they’d question your relationship with Lucian?”
“How long did you think about it before you mentioned the group to Lucian? A minute? Ten? Do you think you teased out every consequence? No. You were desperate. That’s what you do when you’re desperate. So don’t you sit and judge me.”
“I’m not. Listen, I’m going to look into what happened to Nell. I’m go
She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t tell Lucian that I told you all of this. I can’t risk that he’ll throw Jackie and me back on the streets. Especially now.”
“I promise. I won’t say a word to him about this.”
Makaio slows the car to a stop along the curb in front of The Shoal. “You sure you don’t want me to drop you off at the house?”
“No, I’d like to hang out with Aunt Midge for a bit.” I gather up my bag and set my hand to the car door, instead of waiting for him to open it for me.
“How long?”
I pause at the question. “Excuse me?”
Hiking his elbow over the back of the front seat, he cranes his neck toward me. “How long do you plan to hang out with her?”
“Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”
“I need to know how long I’m waiting here.”
“Um. I pla
“The boss told me to drive you back.”
“Well, can you let him know I decided to stay?”
“No.” The expression written across his face is as unyielding as his response, and a creeping sensation of discomfort climbs my spine.
“No? Why?”
“Because you’re to return to the manor. That’s what I was instructed to do. Bring you back.”
“Um. I’m … off the clock.”
“I’m not. So, I’ll wait here for you.”
“I have a choice of where I want to go on the weekends, and I chose to come home,” I volley back, the frustration blooming hot beneath my skin.
“Well, seems the boss wasn’t made aware of that. So, here I am. Waiting for you.”
“Well, you’ll be waiting a long time, I can tell you that.”
“How long?”
“Three hours. Maybe four, if I decide to eat here.”
“Okay, cool.” He lowers his arm, turning back around in his seat. “I’ll just be waiting here in the parking lot, then.”
“Fine. And I’ll be sure to have words with Lucian about this.”
“Whatever you two spat about is none of my business. I’m just over here doing my job.” The dismissal in voice gnaws at me, and I can’t get out of this car until I know he’s going to let it go and not wait for me in the parking lot, like some psychotic bodyguard I never hired.
“This is crazy, Makaio. Seriously, just go. I’m fine. I’m with Aunt Midge.”
“Your timer already started.” He taps his wrist that’s absent of a watch. “You’re wasting minutes talking to me.”
Frustrated, I storm across the parking lot, throwing back the door of the bar to find Aunt Midge leaning on the counter, chatting with Mac and Doherty.
“Ahh, look what the wind blew in, fellas!” she says, straightening as I approach.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Am I in trouble? Judging by the scowl on your face, I’d say so.”
“No. I’m just ...” Pissed. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah, sure.” She directs her attention toward the two older men across from her. “You guys let me know if anyone else strolls in.” With a jerk of her head, she leads me into the office behind the bar and closes the door. “Everything all right?” The air of humor in her voice from moments ago switches to concern.
“Yeah. I just had a question. Last night … did you notice a young girl at the bar, at all? Maybe slightly older than me? Think she comes in pretty regularly.”
“You’re talking about the Anders girl?”
“You know her?”
“Not personally,” she says, shrugging a shoulder. “She comes in sometimes, to meet with a guy. Older guy.”
“Did you see her last night?”
“Yeah, she was here. With him.”
“What did he look like?”
Puffing her cheeks, she blows out a breath. “Gray hair, kinda heavier build. Glasses.”
The private investigator, I’d bet.
“She ever drink? Or leave to party somewhere else with any of the guys?”
“Ah, well, what they do when they exit through those doors ain’t none of my business.” Finger waving in the air, she shakes her head. “But I ain’t never seen her drink. She typically orders a Coke. You know her?”
“She was a nurse for Mrs. Blackthorne.”
“No shit?” The sudden intrigue in her eyes makes me wish I hadn’t said a word. No doubt that bit of information will spread through the island like a bad case of herpes. “Whatever she pumped in her veins was apparently some hard-hitting stuff. Doesn’t seem like a good candidate for a nurse.”
“Yeah, I guess not. None of the guys ever mentioned hanging out with her at the Crow’s Nest?”
“Nah. Only guy I ever watched her leave with was that older guy. You sure everything is okay?”
I nod, rolling my shoulders back. “Just kind of a shock.”
“Was to us, too. Don’t get a dead body like that very often. Not the young ones, anyway.” Staring off in silence, she blinks out of her thoughts. “So, you stayin’ this weekend? Thought I’d cook up a pot of chili tomorrow.”
“Yes. I just have to … deal with something first.”
“Nothing serious?”
Just an enormous Hawaiian bodyguard who refuses to leave.
I shake my head, pulling my duffel bag higher up onto my shoulder. “Hey, you think I can use Jack’s computer for a bit?” I’m curious to know if Nell ended up in the news, and if they happened to mention anything about her son. The owner of The Shoal often let me use his computer for school, when I couldn’t get to the library, for whatever reason.
“Knock yourself out. You want anything?”
“Maybe just some cheese fries and a Sprite?” It was a go-to favorite of mine when I was in high school, and the smile that lights up Aunt Midge’s face tells me she appreciates the nostalgic request.
“On it.”
The wooden chair creaks when I sit down at the dinosaur computer that’s still equipped with a disk- and CD-drive. Ages seem to pass before the internet browser finally pops up onto the screen, and when I click the search bar, it’s a ten second pause before I can type in the first inquiry.
Anelle Anders Crow’s Nest Death.
The only relevant result that pops up is a brief article in the Gazette that mentions she died of a drug overdose, and that police are investigating. Nothing more. No mention of her son, or how long she’s been a resident on the island. Nothing but a small bulletin on her death.