The Lies that Bind, page 11
“Is that her?” Nicholas asked, nodding toward the bar.
Ted swiveled, and Kirsten turned more casually. Sure enough, an attractive woman with an aquiline nose and dark hair pulled up in a French twist had sat down at the bar and was examining a menu.
“Looks like her,” Kirsten said, her eyes calculating.
“How do we approach her?” I asked.
“Leave it to me,” Kirsten said, half-draining her glass of Sancerre.
“What do you mean?” I asked, but by the time I finished answering the question, she had stood up and was striding toward the entrance.
16
“Where is she going?” Nicholas asked.
“She’s going to get the goods,” Ted said, finishing the contents of his own glass and reaching for the bottle. Once he’d poured the rest into his glass, he glanced back toward the entrance, where Kirsten was strolling in as if she’d just arrived. As we watched, she slid onto a bar stool two down from Josie and flagged the bartender.
Now what? Nicholas and I were here for a romantic date... but also to see if we could find Josie Cole. Now that we had found Josie, Kirsten had left my ex with us to go and interrogate her, without talking to me about it.
I didn’t want to abandon Nicholas, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to make contact with Josie.
“What do I do?” I asked Nicholas in a low voice.
“Follow your gut,” he replied with an encouraging smile.
“I feel bad leaving you alone…”
“Follow your gut,” he repeated, and gave my hand a squeeze under the table.
I smiled and nodded slightly, then announced, “I’ll be back.”
“You don’t need to go,” Ted objected. “Kirsten has it handled. She’s amazing at getting info out of people.”
I ignored him, standing up and walking to the entrance just as Kirsten began engaging Josie in conversation at the bar. I walked out to the lobby, took a few deep breaths as I gazed out at the stretch of water leading out to the gulf, then turned and headed back into the restaurant as if I were arriving for the first time.
Kirsten was laughing, presumably at something Josie had said, when I approached her at the bar.
“Kirsten!” I said, widening my eyes. “I had no idea you were in Snug Harbor!”
Kirsten turned and blinked, her smile faltering for a moment. “Max? What are you doing here?”
“Just a whim,” I said, reaching for the bar stool between Kirsten and Josie. “Mind if I join you?” I asked, sitting down before she could respond. “Who’s your friend?”
“I’m Josie Cole,” said the woman with the aquiline nose, a little bit coolly.
“Max Sayers,” I said. “Are you new to town? Or just visiting?”
“Visiting,” she said. “I had a bit of business to take care of.”
“What kind of business?” I asked, flagging down the bartender. “I could kill for a glass of wine… do you need a refill?”
“Sure,” Josie said with a slight smile. “Vodka soda,” she told the bartender.
“And a glass of dry white for me, please,” I added. “You need anything, Kirsten?”
“I’m good, thanks,” she said, taking a sip of the pink drink the bartender had just set in front of her: a Cape Cod, of course. Ted’s new favorite drink.
“So,” I said, turning to face Josie. “What do you think of Snug Harbor?”
“Well,” she said, “it’s beautiful, but it’s not really my cup of tea.”
“I gather you’re not here just for the lobster,” I said.
“No,” she replied. “Just a bit of an issue with my ex.”
“Divorce?” I gave her a sympathetic smile. “I totally get it. Mine was final last year, and I’m still recovering.”
“Oh, he didn’t bother divorcing me,” she said. “He just took off, cleaned out the accounts, and started a new life with a different name.”
“Ouch,” I said. “That sounds horrible.”
“Oh, it was,” she said. “The house got foreclosed on because I couldn’t pay. And even my son went with him.”
“He took your kid?”
“Well, technically he’s a young adult,” she said, taking a big sip of her drink, “but he went with him. Completely vanished.”
“But why?” I asked. “Did he not want to split the estate with you?”
“He was in legal trouble,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness and disappointment. “So he just took everything and left me holding the bag.”
“I am so sorry,” I said. “Have you talked with him since he left?”
“I lost track of him for two years,” she said. “But I finally figured out how to track him down. I confronted him last week.”
“How did you do it?” Kirsten interjected from behind me. “Did you hire a private investigator?”
“No,” she said. “I couldn’t afford it. I tracked him down through his cars.”
“His cars?” I asked.
Josie took another long sip of her drink. “He has a thing for antique cars; it’s like an obsession. I think he cared about his cars more than he cared about me; I once got sunscreen on the leather in one of them, and he about blew a gasket.” She shook her head, her face tight with anger. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to give them up, or stop showing them off. Sure enough, I found his favorite car listed on a web site for enthusiasts. And it led me to Snug Harbor.”
“So your ex lives here,” Kirsten said.
“Lived here,” she corrected. “He died a few days ago. Ironically, in the car he loved so much.” She let out a bitter laugh. “At least they went together.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know it must have been hard, but still… you spent years together. Are you okay?”
“I’m… I’m numb, actually,” she said. “I don’t know what to think.”
“What about your son?” Kirsten asked. “Have you located him?”
“Oh, I have,” she said, mouth twisting. “I wish it were different, but he’s cut from the same cloth as his father. Getting into the same kind of trouble…” She trailed off.
“Trouble?" I asked.
“Never mind,” she said, and I could sense that her guard was up. “I shouldn’t be talking about all of this. It’s just… it’s been a lot.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“What about you? You said you recently divorced. How has that been?”
“It’s been an adjustment,” I said. “We have twin daughters together, and I think it’s been particularly hard for one of them, especially now that her dad and I are dating other people.”
“Does your ex have a girlfriend?” she asked. “Mine had tons, even while we were together. I found that out after he left.”
“He does,” I said, very aware of Kirsten beside me; her posture was very erect as she took a tiny sip of her Cape Cod. “She’s very nice,” I said, being kind. “I hope she and my ex find happiness together.”
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Josie mused. “We were so good together when we started, but over time… everything just changed. And you hit a point where there’s so much damage done—little cuts, just day-to-day things that never get repaired—that there’s just no going back.”
I thought about the slow, painful death of my own marriage. The hundreds and thousands of tiny grievances that didn’t seem like a big enough deal to bring up at the time they happened. And how they grew over time, until they morphed into something so huge and intractable we couldn’t see past it to find each other anymore. “I know exactly what you mean,” I said, and glanced past Josie toward my ex-husband… and my new love interest. Could I avoid the same fate by going into a new relationship carrying the wisdom of the one that failed, with more attention to clearing the small hurts before they became big ones? I shook myself a little bit and turned my attention back to Josie. Her eyebrows were delicate and winged at the top corner, but her eyes tilted down, and there was no sparkle in them. There had been, in the photo I’d seen of her with her son, but those were happier times. “Did you date after your husband left?” I asked.
She looked down at the floor, and I her cheeks flushed just a little bit, as if the question had embarrassed her. “I was too hurt and angry,” she said. “Ashamed, I guess. I didn’t think anyone would want me, if I’m honest.” Her voice shook a little, and had a raw edge… there was anger, there, too. Enough anger to kill her ex-husband? I wondered.
I looked at her. If she didn’t feel as if anyone would want her, then God help the rest of us. She was beautiful, trim, eloquent, well put together… “I imagine they would be lining up around the block,” I said, meaning it.
“Maybe,” she said, unconvinced.
“You just have to move on,” Kirsten said from behind me. “Just because you were married to a terrible person doesn’t mean the rest of your life is over. I mean, I’ve found love again, and I think we’re grateful our old relationships ended.”
I turned to look at my ex-husband’s girlfriend, and my eyebrows rose seemingly of their own accord.
“Was your boyfriend’s ex that awful?” I asked before I could help myself.
It was Kirsten’s time to blush. “Well… not awful, but he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t getting his needs met.”
“I imagine she wasn’t either,” I mused. “I mean, I know in my marriage, it was a little bit hard to feel cared for when my husband worked eighty hours a week and forgot my birthday every other year.”
“Yes, well, every relationship is different,” Kirsten said. “I imagine he must have had some needs that y… that his ex-wife wasn’t able to fill. I mean, he loves to travel, but he and his ex never went anywhere.”
“Maybe that was because he always said he was on deadline and didn’t have the time,” I bit back.
“I’m sorry,” Josie said; I’d almost forgotten she was there. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, of course not,” I said, remembering myself. “I guess all this talk of divorce makes me feel defensive. Anyway… what now? Now that he’s gone, are you going to have some kind of… settlement, at least? Regain some of the property he stole?”
“We’ll see,” she said. “There may be some legal issues, but I’m hoping there’ll be enough to at least help me pay a small mortgage.”
“And your son?” I asked.
“I haven’t seen him in two years,” she said flatly. “He knew where to find me. He just didn’t.”
“Do you know where he is now?” Kirsten asked.
She nodded.
“Are you going to talk to him?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I should let him know I’m here, at least.”
“He doesn’t know?” Kirsten asked.
“Not unless his father told him,” Josie said. She sighed. “I’ll think on it. I do love him. I’m just still really hurt.”
“I get that,” I said.
She picked up her phone. “I don’t even know his number,” she said. “But I know where he lives.”
“Talk to him,” I said, speaking from the heart. “You won’t know until you do.”
She took another sip of her vodka tonic. “You know, I think you’re right. If it’s bothering me, I should take steps to make amends.” She put down her drink and stood up. “Thank you, ladies. I feel like this meeting was meant to be.”
She put a ten-dollar bill on the bar, gave us a parting smile, and strode out of the bar.
“Well,” Kirsten said. “I had that handled, but I feel like that was productive. I would have gotten more out of her on my own, though.”
“Maybe,” I said, shrugging. “But I needed to talk to her.”
“Do you think she killed him?”
I thought of her bitterness, and of that flare of anger I’d seen. “I don’t think so. But I can’t say for sure. Leaving her with their son and all their money? I can’t say I wouldn’t have killed him if I were in her situation,” I half-joked.
Kirsten’s manicured eyebrow twitched.
“Kidding,” I said. “But I do hope things go well with her son.”
“Unless she was the murderer, and decides to kill him too, for deserting her.”
I blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“That’s because you’re not a mystery author,” she said, flagging down the waiter and asking for the check to be sent to our table. “Shall we?” she asked, in a rather frostier tone than usual.
“Of course,” I said, sliding off the barstool and back to our table for the rest of our no-longer-very-romantic dinner.
17
“Well, that was… interesting,” Nicholas said once we’d paid the check (at least Kirsten offered to split it) and said our goodbyes. “What exactly happened up at the bar?”
Kirsten had given the table the overview of what we learned, but hadn’t mentioned the bit of verbal sparring. “It got a little heated there for a minute,” I admitted.
“I could tell,” he said, pulling me into him. “Did she hit a nerve?”
“She did,” I said. “Talking about how her boyfriend’s ex-wife just wasn’t meeting his needs. I got a little defensive… I almost outed us, to be honest.” I sighed. “I guess I’m still angry.”
“You and Ted were together for two decades,” he said gently, kissing me on top of the head as we walked along the inn porch. “I think that’s perfectly normal. Want to sit for a minute?” he asked, gesturing to a pair of rocking chairs overlooking the now-moonlit water.
“Sure,” I said, and he reached for my hand as we sat down together, squeezing it. “I still can’t believe they just waltzed over and sat down with us.”
“I think that was mainly Kirsten,” he said. “Your ex looked like he’d rather be just about anywhere else on the planet.”
“He didn’t hesitate to reach for the wine, though.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Nicholas said, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s a nice man, though. Totally not a fit for you, but pleasant enough.”
“It’s a little frustrating that now all of a sudden he’s up for all these adventures he never wanted to do while we were married. I mean, it’s not that I want to do them with him, but where was all that when we were together?”
“Maybe he’s trying to improve the next time around,” Nicholas suggested.
I sighed. “You’re probably right. I know I am.”
“I think you’re amazing,” he said. “And I think somewhere inside, he must be kicking himself for letting you go.”
I looked over at Nicholas, feeling a wave of absolute gratitude for this moment with this man. “I’m so glad he did, though,” I said, and leaned in to kiss him.
As we kissed, a car swerved into the gravel drive and crunched to a stop, askew in one of the parking spaces. The car door swung open and a woman emerged, looking unsteady on her feet. She slammed it and hurtled toward the inn’s steps, a hand to her face as she stumbled up the short stairway. Her formerly impeccable French twist now slewed to the side, and she let out a little sob before opening the door and disappearing inside.
“Was that Josie Cole?” Nicholas asked.
“It was,” I confirmed.
“If she had a reunion with her son, I’m guessing it didn’t go very well,” he said.
I grimaced. “I’m afraid you may be right.” I sighed. “I wish I could go ask her what happened.”
“Maybe we can come back for happy hour tomorrow,” he suggested. “After all, we never did make a plan for our next treasure-hunting mission, did we? Although I thought I might map out all the coordinates we found and see if anything looks more likely than others,” he suggested.
“Maybe we should do another search of the basement,” I said. “See if we missed anything.”
“I can’t see how,” he said, “but if it’s time with you, I’m game!”
I laughed and gave him a kiss. “Where have you been all my life?”
“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing me back, and for a little bit, at least, all my problems seemed to fade away.
An hour or so later, I looked down from the balcony outside my apartment door and waved as Nicholas pulled out of the driveway behind the bookstore. He blew me a kiss before driving away, and I walked in to find my daughter sitting on the couch watching TV, Winston snuggled in next to her. He wagged at me, but decided to stay put.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked.
“You didn’t eat yet? There’s plenty in the fridge. How did things go at the store this evening?”
“Mostly quiet,” she said. “Where were you, anyway?”
“Just out for dinner.”
She grunted, then begrudgingly said, “How was it?”
“It was… interesting,” I said.
“What does that mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“It was just a nice evening,” I said, deciding not to mention the whole dad-and-his-girlfriend thing. Or the questioning of Charles Carsten’s ex-wife. Or was it widow? “I think I’m heading to bed. I’m on the schedule to open the store tomorrow; what are you up to?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t we have that author reading this Friday?” I asked. “We should put out some flyers tomorrow; can you walk through town and post some?”
“Wouldn’t just posting it on social media be easier?”
“We don’t have that many followers yet,” I pointed out. “Although maybe we could invite some local businesses to follow us?”
“But don’t we want to target tourists and locals?”
“If they follow us, they can see and repost our events, right?” I asked.
“I guess,” she said, obviously more interested in the drama on the screen than anything else.
I tried to hide my frustration—after all, she was dealing with a lot, with the divorce, her dad dating and sharing her family home with another woman, her uncertainty about her future… it was a lot. Instead of erupting at her, I walked over, gave her a kiss on the head, and asked her to be sure Winston went out again before she went to bed.
