Chesapeake Summer (9 page)

Chloe flushed and Tess remembered how her stepsister had felt about Bailey Jones four years ago. Not much ruffled Verna Lee's temper, except for the swampland. In that, she was like her half sister, Chloe's mama. Tess searched for a safe topic. “So, what else is new around here since I've been gone?”

“Nothing at all except this body thing,” Verna Lee replied. “There's a homicide team from Salisbury hanging around. You'd think nothing important ever happened here.”

“I think I'll have more of this delicious iced tea,” replied Chloe diplomatically. “Then I think Gina Marie and I should be heading back home for her nap.” She glanced at Tess. “Why don't you come back with me and we'll catch up while Gina sleeps.”

“No,” Gina piped up. “I don't want to sleep. I want to stay with Auntie Verna.”

“Oh, honey.” Verna Lee looked alarmed. “I can't watch you today. I'm working. Be a good girl and go home with Chloe and Tess. I'll come and see you later. Your mama invited me for dinner.”

Gina's bottom lip stuck out.

Tess had an idea. “Would you like to ride in my car, Gina? We can take a little drive before we go home.”

Gina tilted her head, deep in thought. “Can I ride in front?”

Tess looked at Chloe.

“Absolutely,” agreed Chloe, hoping that traffic laws here in the Cove were as relaxed as she remembered. “You can ride in front with Tess and I'll sit in back with the stroller.”

Gina's eyes brightened. “Okay.”

Collectively, the three adults breathed a sigh of relief. A minor disaster had been averted.

Gina Marie fell asleep before they'd traveled a block.

“Thank God,” whispered Chloe. “I don't know how my mother does it.”

“Me, neither,” agreed Tess, grateful for the expensive shock absorbers her grandfather had insisted she buy. “Will she wake up if we carry her inside the house or should we just keep driving?”

“I'm new at this. I have no idea.”

“I vote we keep driving.”

“Me, too.”

“Chloe,” Tess said after a minute, “tell me about Bailey.”

“There's nothing to tell.”

“Have you seen him?”

“He drove me into town the day after I got here. I wasn't thrilled about his plans to turn Lizzie's land over to developers. We argued a little and he dropped me off. That's it. I guess we don't have much to say to each other anymore.”

Tess was smart enough to keep silent.

Chloe leaned forward. “Verna Lee sounded really upset.”

“I guess so.”

“Are you curious about the body?”

“Not really. No one that I can think of has up and disappeared.”

“It's probably the remains of some old hermit, just like Verna Lee said.”

In the rearview mirror, Tess's eyes, narrow and dark, met Chloe's quizzical ones. “My grandmother's the only person I know who left town and never came back.”

“Tess,” Chloe was amused. “Your grandmother died in a car accident, years ago, on the way to see her sister. Russ told me. He went to the funeral. The whole town did.”

Tess sighed. “You're right.” She glanced over at Gina Marie. “She's really kind of cute, isn't she?”

“She's not cute, she's gorgeous. She looks just like my mother, which is why she gets away with behaving the way she does.”

“I can't believe Dad tolerates it. He certainly didn't with me.”

“People change when they get older,” Chloe said.

L
ibba Jane Hennessey liberally sprinkled her chicken casserole with Mrs. Dash salt substitute, turned the oven dial to read 350 degrees, set the pan carefully on the middle rack, closed the door and leaned against the counter wondering why she bothered trying to make an impression. She could never compete with Verna Lee when it came to cooking. Not that anyone expected her to. After all, food was Verna Lee's job. Still, Libba was a southerner, company was coming and southern women were supposed to offer up delicious food. Somewhere she'd missed the boat.

Sighing, she opened the refrigerator and rooted through the storage bin. She'd throw together a huge mess of raw vegetables, toss them with olive oil and a vinaigrette, top the whole thing off with cranberries, some almonds and a handful of small red grapes. Voila! A California meal for Chloe.

She heard the
click, clicking
of Gina Marie's Barbie-doll high heels on the wood floorboards. The sound stopped abruptly.

“Mama, I'm hungwy,” she called out, mangling her “r.” “I need a snack.”

Libba continued her vegetable search. “In a minute, sugar.”

The child's voice rose. “I need one now.”

Libba turned and faced what had become her greatest challenge. Gina Marie Hennessey, dressed in a pink, two-piece bathing suit that wouldn't see another season and sparkly high-heeled shoes from last year's Halloween costume, stared back at her.

“We're eating dinner soon. I don't want to spoil your appetite.”

The little girl stuck out her bottom lip. “What is it?”

“Chicken and salad.”

“I'm hungwy now.” Behind their fringe of lashes, the pansy-brown eyes filled. “I'm starving. I'm starving to my death.”

Libba's lips twitched. Between the crocodile tears and the mangled consonants, it was all she could do not to laugh. “We certainly can't have you starving to your death, can we?”

Gina Marie shook her head. “No.”

“How about a peach?”

The child tilted her head, considering her options. “Can I have a soda, too?”

“You can have milk.”

The rosebud mouth turned down. “I wike soda.” “L's” were a problem, too.

“You know the rules. Milk and juice at home, soda and chocolate milk when we go out.” Libba changed the subject. “Chloe and Aunt Verna Lee will be here for dinner.” She held out her hand. “Let's clean up the living room.”

“No.” Gina turned around to walk away, exposing the left cheek of her plump little behind.

Was it worth the scene? No, she decided. She followed her daughter into the toy-strewn living room and groaned.

Lego bricks, dominoes, marbles and Mr. Potato Head parts lay scattered across the ottoman. Two naked, high-heeled Barbie dolls, their legs twisted into Kama Sutra positions, gazed up at her from the Barbie Dream Car. The door of a miniature refrigerator swung on one hinge. Stacked in front on the floor, as if the little fridge had lost its lunch, was an unappealing mass of mini plastic pork chops, eggs, bacon, sandwiches and bread. Real cracker crumbs covered the carpet, and pea-size balls of once-multicolored, now gray, PlayDoh, filled every available niche and crevice. Worst of all, the wall behind the couch was covered with red and green crayon marks. Was it age or selective memory? Libba was sure that Chloe had never tested her like this.

Cora Hennessey, her late mother-in-law, would have turned purple at the sight of her once-immaculate front parlor. Libba glared at her daughter. “What have you done?”

Gina Marie glared back. “Keeping busy.”

“What did I tell you about writing on walls?”

The little girl laid her finger against her cheek, her forehead wrinkled in deep thought. “You said not to.”

“That's right. You disobeyed me. Do you know what that means?”

Gina Marie pirouetted in her impossible shoes. Dark hair floated around her head. “Time out.”

“That's right.”

Gina beamed. “But not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because Chloe and Aunt Verna Lee are coming.”

Libba bit down on the inside of her cheek. Gina was too little to be awful on purpose.

She'd swept the worst of the mess into the toy chest when a voice called out, “Hello, anybody home?”

“Chloe.” Libba's face lit up. She hurried to the door. Throwing open the screen, she pulled Chloe into her arms. “Where have you been?”

Chloe laughed and pulled away. “Mom, I left you two hours ago. After Tess and I brought Gina Marie back, we spent some time catching up. Something smells good. What are you cooking?”

“Chicken casserole and salad.”

“Sounds interesting.” Her mother's repertoire was limited. A casserole usually meant she'd been experimenting.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Mmm, nothing.” Chloe had noticed her sister. “Hi, Gina Marie. Did you have a good nap?”

Gina nodded. Her thumb inched its way into her mouth. “I don't like naps.”

“Naps are good for you,” Chloe improvised. “People grow when they sleep. I could be wrong, but I think you're even taller than you were when I picked you up this morning.”

“I'm three,” said the little girl, keeping her thumb wedged securely in her mouth. She held up three fingers with her free hand.

Chloe knelt down. “Are you sure? That's pretty old. You can't be that old already.”

“Yes, I am.” Gina nodded vigorously. The thumb came out. “Auntie Verna Lee's coming.”

“That's great.” She would have mustered greater enthusiasm if her aunt had done the cooking. She looked around. “Where's Russ?”

“He should be here in a minute. Come into the kitchen and I'll pour you a glass of iced tea.”

“No, no, no.” Gina stamped her foot. “I want Chloe to stay with me.”

“Now, Gina,” her mother warned. “Chloe will be spending plenty of time with you later. Right now I'd like to talk with her. Okay?”

Chloe stared at her mother. Was she actually negotiating with her three-year-old? If so, things had certainly changed in seventeen years.

“So,” she said when Gina was occupied with her snack and they were seated on the porch facing the water, with two glasses and a pitcher of tea on the table between them. “Do you have air-conditioning yet?”

Libba nodded at the fans spinning at full power from both sides of the porch. “What do you think?”

Chloe groaned. “It's going to be a long summer.”

“Tell me about it.”

Chloe changed the subject. “You look good, Mom,” she said. It was true. No one who didn't already know the dark-eyed woman with her thick, shining hair and long, defined legs would guess her age correctly. Elizabeth Jane Hennessey was forty-one years old. She looked thirty except for the tiny lines around her eyes. “Tell me what's going on with your job. Granddad said you'd give me the dirty details.”

Libba smiled her wide, generous smile, the smile she'd inherited from Nola Ruth, shared with her half sister, Verna Lee, and passed down to Chloe and Gina Marie, the smile that had, on one occasion or another, reduced half the men of Marshy Hope Creek to incoherent babblers. “I have no dirty details. I'm just so glad to have you home for the summer.”

A voice called out from behind them. “Hello, hello. I require a glass of something cold and a hug from my wife and kids, in that order.”

Chloe laughed and stood to greet her stepfather, a tall, lean man with red-brown hair, a chiseled nose and the crystal-blue eyes of a waterman. His arms closed around her tightly. “How are you, sweetheart? Long time no see.”

“I'm healthy, happy to see you're looking good, and really hot. It takes a while to adjust to this weather all over again. How are you?” She pulled away but kept her hands on his arms.

“I'm the same as you, especially the hot part.” He grinned at his wife. “Any chance of that cold drink?”

Libba stood. “One iced tea, coming right up.”

Gina Marie held up her sticky fingers. “Look, Daddy. I'm having peanut butter.”

“I can see that. Are you finished?”

She nodded. Russ swooped down, lifted her out of her chair and, wincing, swung her around several times before settling her on his lap. Gina was his miracle child, conceived after everyone told him it would never happen.

Libba set the tea in front of him. He kissed her briefly on the lips and downed his tea in a single long swallow. “I stopped in for a sandwich at Perks today.”

Chloe brightened. “How is Verna Lee?”

“Chipper as usual. She said she might be a little late and not to wait for her.” Russ snapped his fingers. “I ran into Blake Carlisle. Apparently, there's some controversy over that piece of land Bailey Jones inherited.”

“What kind of controversy?” asked Chloe.

Gina squirmed in Russ's arms. “Put me down, Daddy. It's hot.”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

Russ set the little girl on her feet and waited until she left the porch for the cooler rooms of the main house.

Libba repeated Chloe's question. “What kind of controversy?”

“The geologist found a decomposed body. Blake called in a forensics team. If it turns out to be a homicide, the sale could be held up for as long as it takes.”

“How could that be?” Libba asked. “No one's missing.”

“The person may not be from this side of the Cove. Maybe someone dumped the body.”

Chloe frowned. “Bailey said—” She stopped.

Her mother was staring at her. “Finish your sentence, Chloe.”

“He said he hadn't sold anything yet.”

“So? I'm not following your reasoning.”

“Why are people snooping around his land if it hasn't even sold yet?” Chloe swallowed. “I mean, I don't think it's a good idea to sell the wetlands to a developer.”

“I imagine there are quite a few people who share that sentiment,” Russ agreed. “Verna Lee seemed pretty upset, too. She said the place was a wildlife sanctuary and ought to be left alone.” He grinned. “I guess tree hugging runs in the family, but you can't blame Bailey. That kind of money is a tremendous incentive.”

“Bailey doesn't need money,” protested Chloe. “He's twenty-two years old and already he's an incredible artist. His paintings sell for thousands of dollars.”

Libba spoke. “I didn't know you and Bailey kept in touch.”

Chloe felt the red stain creep into her cheeks. “We don't. I ran into him on my way into town this morning. That's when he told me he was selling his land but that he hadn't signed the papers yet because he had a few things to take care of first.”

Russ chuckled. “I hope that doesn't mean he had to get rid of a dead body.”

“Russ!”

“Take it easy, Libba Jane,” he soothed her. “Chloe knows I didn't mean anything. Bailey's trial was a long time ago. He was proven innocent, remember? I was one of his strongest supporters.”

“It's true, Mom,” Chloe agreed. “Don't be upset.”

“We went through a lot,” her mother reminded her. “It was one of the most difficult periods of your life, and mine.”

“I'm only twenty,” Chloe teased her. “I have plenty of time to remedy that.”

Libba's laugh was forced. “Oh, all right. I'm done preaching. Sorry to be so sensitive. Would anyone like something more to drink?”

“Hello, hello.” Verna Lee's voice sang out from the front door. “Ready or not, I'm coming in.”

“We're back here on the porch,” Libba called back.

“Auntie Verna, Auntie Verna,” Gina Marie screamed. The sound of her small feet pounded on the bare wood.

“My goodness, what a welcome.” Verna Lee scooped the little girl onto her hip, walked through the house to the back porch and handed Libba a covered dish. “Just a little something I made this morning. You can't keep food more than one day.”

Libba lifted the lid and groaned. “Key lime pie. Five hundred calories a slice.”

Verna Lee laughed. “And worth every one.” She sat in the empty chair and settled Gina on her lap. “How have you been, sweet pea?” she murmured.

Gina held up three fingers. “I'm this many.”

“I know. You've been this many for six months.” She manipulated the little hand to show three fingers and half the pinkie. “You're really this many, three and a half.”

Gina's eyes rounded. She held up her hand. “Look. Look. I'm three and a half.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. Everyone else clapped and exclaimed. Gina slid off her aunt's lap and left the room beaming at her new discovery.