An Island Reunion, page 6
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.” Finn hesitated. “I don’t know where to start. So, I guess I’ll jump right in.”
“That’s probably a good approach.”
Finn inhaled a slow breath, then began. “Your mother was always a troublemaker.”
“That sounds about right.”
Finn laughed. “I don’t mean in the sense that she was a criminal or anything like that. But if someone didn’t tell the whole truth, she would poke and prod them until they gave in and confessed. If there was a mystery, she’d get to the bottom of it. She didn’t much seem to care who was hurt or inconvenienced in the process. She only wanted to know everything. I think that more than anything, she was a curious person.”
“It’s hard to think of her that way. She didn’t seem particularly curious to me.”
“By the time you were old enough to notice, she’d changed her ways. It’d brought her nothing but trouble, so she’d learned to keep her curiosity quiet.”
“You told me she witnessed Mary Brown’s murder.”
“Yes. Mary was babysitting her, and they were playing hide-and-seek. When Helen was hiding in a closet, she saw Mary killed.”
“Did she ever tell you who she saw?” That wasn’t something Finn had mentioned, and Charmaine hadn’t pursued it earlier. But clearly, she wanted to get something off her chest, and Charmaine was desperate to know the truth.
Finn nodded slowly. Charmaine gasped. “Who was it?”
“Well, she didn’t exactly tell me who it was, only clues to finding out their identity. I’m not sure I should tell you what I know. The knowledge has cost my family a lot. I don’t want you to have to carry that burden.”
“Okay.” Frustration itched along her spine. She should know the truth. It was her mother’s secret, and she’d taken it to her grave. Keeping that secret now benefited no one.
“I mentioned that she found something the last time we spoke. The thing that she found — it was jewellery. I saw it, she showed me a necklace, a bracelet, and a ring. The necklace and bracelet had diamonds, but the ring didn’t have a jewel in it—looked like it’d fallen out. Also, they were kind of dirty and old-looking, so I didn’t understand how valuable they were when I saw them. But Helen told me she thought they would be worth a lot.”
Charmaine’s heart thundered in her chest. Did Finn know that she had the jewellery? Did she suspect? Charmaine wasn’t sure who she could trust. The promise of easy money changed people. “Did she get the pieces valued?”
Finn’s eyes were bright. “No, she didn’t want to tip anyone off that she’d found them. Something like that, worth so much money—it’s got to have people looking for it.”
“You’re probably right.” The only person Charmaine had been worried about was Sean. But perhaps there was someone else looking for the jewellery, someone who suspected she had it. If they discovered she was Helen’s daughter, her life could be in danger like her mother’s had been. “It’s a shame. We’ll never know if it was valuable or fake.”
“Helen said she found it in a box hidden under the sand in a cave. I wasn’t sure if she made that part up to protect herself. Maybe she stole the jewellery from someone and didn’t want me to know. But whatever the truth was, she was scared. That part I’m certain of.”
Sweat trickled down Charmaine’s back, and her head pounded. Her mother had found the jewellery hidden in a cave. It had to have been the same cave where they’d followed Betsy that day and found the loose diamond in the sand. What had Betsy been there to find? Did she find what she was looking for? And how had the diamond ended up where it was?
“That was when the harassment started. Whoever had owned the jewellery knew she had it, or at least suspected it. She was spooked and left town. But they continued harassing us, breaking into our house and tossing the place for years afterwards. Just when we thought it was over, they’d do it all over again. It drove Mum and Dad crazy. I feel terrible when I think about what they went through — as well as losing their daughter that way.”
Charmaine stood to her feet. “Do you mind if I freshen up in the bathroom?”
“Of course, honey. It’s down the hall to your left. I think I hear Ed’s car in the drive. Dinner’s ready, so wash up and we’ll eat.”
After dinner, Charmaine slowly pedalled her bike back home in the dark. She’d politely declined Ed’s offer to drive her home. After a lovely dinner of roast pork, crispy potatoes, and freshly roasted vegetables, she was stuffed full of food and feeling much better about everything.
Ed and Finn had four children — the twelve-year-old who’d turned out to be a girl, plus three teenagers, two boys and another girl. All of them were lovely, polite children who showed a quiet interest in their new cousin. They’d chatted her ear off after a while, the reserved façade gone in short order when they discovered she was as proficient at gaming as they were. She’d spent enough hours playing against her brother over the years. At least the effort had been good for something.
What she wanted now was some time with her thoughts, and the bike ride home gave her that. She didn’t feel spooked riding on her own along the road late at night. She left her bike lamp off to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and the moon shone bright overhead, lighting her way. There were no cars at this time of night, and her bike was virtually silent as she cruised down the narrow, winding road.
An owl hooted in the distance. Stars twinkled in a blanket of light above her head. She’d never get over how beautiful the night sky was on Coral Island. There was very little light pollution, and the number of visible stars were many times more than there had been in the city.
The only sounds were the hush of waves lapping gently at the nearby shore and the fossicking of nocturnal animals and birds as they went about their nightly search for food. She loved Coral Island. She loved the birds, the animals, the ocean, the sky—everything about it felt like home. It’d become a part of her soul in such a short space of time. She couldn’t imagine ever leaving.
But what if her life was in danger? What if Finn talked to someone, to the wrong person, and let it slip who Charmaine was—that she was a Hilton, and Helen Hilton’s heir? They might figure out she’d inherited the jewellery, and if it was worth as much as she thought it might be, she could very well be in trouble.
She rolled her bike down the track to the cottage, then jumped off and set the bike against the wall. Inside, Watson greeted her with an arched back and a lazy yawn.
“How’d you go, boy? Miss me? Sorry I don’t have any leftovers for you tonight, but I can probably find you a can of cat food if you’re hungry.”
The cat followed her to the pantry, and she opened a can into his bowl. Her back slid down the cabinet, and she sat on the floor beside Watson and stroked him as he ate. His body rose to meet her hand.
“What am I going to do about those jewels? They’re safe for now, but maybe I’m not.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her thoughts jumbled and pained over the idea of leaving Coral Island behind forever to keep herself safe as her mother had done before her.
There was a sound outside on the front porch. Something clattered. Then there was silence. Charmaine’s heart jumped into her throat, pounding.
What was that? Maybe it was the killer, come to get the jewellery that was safely stowed in the bank vault in Kellyville.
Heart still pounding, she crawled on hands and knees to the front door. Then there was a great bang, and something shattered. She leaned her back against the door. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Perhaps she should make a run for it. She reached up and turned the lock in the doorknob by her head. Then she slowly inched her way up the door to peer through the base of the windowpane.
With bated breath, she peered to the left, then to the right. Her bike lay on its side on the front porch. There was an overturned potted plant nearby in pieces. And right beside it, a possum stood on its four legs, peering directly at her.
Laughing with relief, she straightened her back and pressed both hands to her chest, willing her thundering heart to return to its normal rhythm. Then she flicked off the porch light and headed for bed. She’d had enough excitement for one night.
Nine
Taya stared at the cursor on her computer screen. She blinked. The cursor blinked. What should she write? She needed to draft a companywide email to communicate with the staff about her father’s passing and what it would mean for the group, but she couldn’t find the words. There had been an announcement the day after his passing but she wanted to draft something more heartfelt now that the funeral was over. How should she describe a man who formed a company out of nothing and built it to be one of the country’s most successful resort chains in history? A man who knew most of the employees by name and cared about their lives, who’d given his everything to be their employer, provider, friend?
She blinked again then turned away to cross her arms and stare at her office wall. Already her assistant had asked when they would be moving her to the CEO office down the hall. She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t want to go in there, let alone set up her workspace there. She missed her father so much, it still hurt in the base of her throat whenever she thought about it. He’d only been gone three weeks. How would she cope with a year, ten years?
Susan poked her head through the office door. “I’m going to lunch. Can I get you anything before I go?”
Taya shook her head. “I have to write this email. Any ideas?”
“Be yourself. People like genuine warmth, and you have plenty of that.”
“Thanks,” Taya replied. “Is Andrew in the office yet?”
“I believe he’s been at his desk for about half an hour. Do you want me to ask him to meet you?”
“Yes, please. See if he’s free for lunch.”
“Will do.”
Susan pulled the door shut behind her. Within a few moments, the phone rang. It was Susan calling to say that Andrew would stop by her office to take her to lunch. Taya hung up the phone and stared at the blank screen. She typed two words.
Dear employees,
Then she deleted it and chewed on her lower lip. “Employees” was too impersonal. She should use a more congenial term, like “fellow workers” or “staff.” Fellow workers? She wasn’t writing a communist manifesto. She groaned and pressed both hands to her face. This was impossible. The thing she dreaded most was that she was bound to burst into tears halfway through the email, and she’d cried so many tears in recent days, she was exhausted. She didn’t have the energy or the fluid reserves for more.
There was a tap at the door, and she called, “Come in.”
Andrew walked in with a smile on his face. His dark brown eyes glowed, and his black hair fell smoothly on either side of a part. He strode with purpose to her desk, took her hand, and pulled her up into his arms. She fell against his chest with her eyes pressed shut. It felt good to be held, as though the troubles in her life might fade away for a single moment and she could relax and be at ease.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she said. “I hope you weren’t busy.”
“Not too busy to see you.” He kissed her.
“I’m trying to write the email to the company, and it’s taking me longer than I thought it would. I have so much to get done, I don’t know how I’m going to manage it all.”
“Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.
She sighed. “Not really. I’m complaining, and you’re a good listener. It helps more than you know.”
“I’m glad to listen,” he replied with another kiss. “Where should we eat today?”
“Let’s go to the Blue Shoal Inn. I miss it today more than ever. I need to go there—it feels like I’m closer to Dad. He used to come to the inn every couple of weeks to have lunch. I thought at the time that he was doing it to check on the inn, but now I know he wanted to see me. I’d do the same thing for Camden if I lived closer to her.”
“I need to talk to you about something before we go,” Andrew said.
Taya leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. “Shoot.”
Andrew paced to the wall and back again. It piqued Taya’s curiosity — she’d never seen him so unnerved. It must be something serious.
His brow furrowed, and he stopped pacing. “Do you remember our discussion about my wife’s death?”
“Of course.”
“The same people who killed her are harassing my parents.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry!”
He shook his head. “They’re getting older, and they’re afraid. There are death threats, and someone broke into their house. It’s escalating.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would do that.”
“It’s about religious differences. As you know, we’re Hindu, and there is another religious group in the area we’re from who take issue with our beliefs. It doesn’t make any sense, but it happens more often than you might think. Anyway, I’ve asked them to move to Australia to live with me, and they’re coming next week.”
Taya blinked. “Wow, really? That’s very sudden.”
He shrugged. “We’ve been planning it for a while.”
But he hadn’t said anything to her about it. Her stomach did a flip. Why had he kept something so big to himself? They’d been dating for over a year, and yet he kept her at arm’s length so much of the time. He rarely opened up about his feelings or what was going on in his life. She had a moment of clarity — when they were together she did most of the talking. How had they gotten this far without her knowing him better?
“Okay, well, I think that’s great. They’ll feel a lot safer on Coral Island.”
“I think so too,” he said. “We’ve already applied for a permanent residency visa, and they’ve received provisional approval.”
“So, you’ve been working on this for a long time, then?”
“Yes, like I said, a while.”
She pressed a smile to her face. “How wonderful.”
“The thing is,” he began, his gaze firmly on the floor, “my parents are very traditional. And they wouldn’t like our relationship.”
“Oh.” Taya’s smile faded. “I see.”
“They’ll be new to this country, afraid, nervous… They’ll take up a lot of my free time. I’d like us to cool things off, until I get everything sorted out. When they’re established and they’re used to the lifestyle and culture here, maybe we can restart where we left off.”
Taya’s heart plummeted into her stomach. Cool things off? “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Temporarily,” he replied, finally meeting her gaze.
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” She was numb. Her head spun. She sat with a huff.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Fine, fine. I’ve got to finish this email, though, so I’ll talk to you later this afternoon.”
“I thought you wanted to grab lunch around noon.”
She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. Did he think he could break up with her and then eat a nice lunch together? “Uh, no, not today. Maybe another time. As I said, I have a lot to do.”
“Okay, another time. I’ll see you later.”
Andrew left and Taya spun her chair slowly, not stopping. Around and around she went, staring at her feet. She loved her red peep-toe pumps. They looked good and were comfortable. Besides, they popped next to the charcoal suit she was wearing. People often complimented her on those shoes. She should get more red shoes. Why was she thinking about shoes? She didn’t want to think about what had happened. It was too much, after the emotional rollercoaster of the last few weeks.
Why would he break up with her? His parents didn’t approve? Unless they didn’t know about her. Maybe he was using his poor elderly parents as his excuse to break things off. But why would he do that three weeks after her own father’s death? She’d never imagined he could be so heartless. They worked together—now she’d have to avoid him at staff meetings, executive meetings, board meetings… She shuddered. Why hadn’t she listened to the little voice inside her head that’d warned against dating at work? This was fast becoming her worst nightmare.
Ten
Beatrice needed to place an order for the floral arrangements for the reunion dinner. Charmaine had of course offered to put in the order, since she was planning the event and she worked at Betsy’s Florals, but Bea wanted to see Betsy. It was time she had a conversation with the older woman.
There were so many questions lurking in her thoughts around Betsy and her past, her connection to Bea’s parents, and so much more. But she and her friends had tiptoed around Betsy and Buck, doing research at the library or online instead of simply confronting her with what they knew. It was time to ask some questions.
Bea nudged open the door to the narrow florist shop and glanced around. There was no one inside. A bell jangled above her head, and soon Betsy emerged from the back with a grin on her face.
“Beatrice Rushton. How good to see you.”
She shuffled forwards and gave Bea a hug. Bea hadn’t expected that. They weren’t exactly close. But she returned the embrace anyway, then stepped aside to study a painting on the wall she hadn’t seen before. It was an impressionist seascape with splashes of intense colour and a feeling of urgency in the leaping froth of the waves. It drew her in and made her feel emotional, as though it was reaching deep down into her soul. She didn’t often experience such a visceral reaction to artwork, and it took her by surprise.
“This is beautiful, Betsy. I don’t think I’m familiar with the artist.”
“That’s one of Chaz’s paintings. She’s good, isn’t she?”
“Chaz did this? Wow. I love it.”
Betsy pressed her hands to her hips. “She’s got a great eye.”
“I think I’ll buy this for the house.”
“Wonderful choice,” Betsy replied, reaching up to take the painting from the wall. “I’ll wrap it up for you.”
