Deadout (14 page)

“I wanted to thank you for your efforts on behalf of my son,” Renfrew continued. I didn't reply, and he looked up at me. “Teddy. From what I hear, you've saved his bacon more than once these last few days.”

Renfrew spooned into his bisque, so I dropped a few crackers in mine and did the same. I had to restrain myself from running into the house and asking Marta to marry me. It was good soup. Renfrew nodded, as if he had some idea of what I was thinking and he understood.

“Are you and Teddy friends?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said. “No.”

“Good.” He nodded. “The boy's a bit of a hippie reprobate. He tends to attract trouble. Actually, he tends to seek it out. All well and good, I guess, if you have to get it out of your system in your teens. I did my share of cow-tipping in my day, but by now he should be over it.” He looked at me. “And he's not.”

I stopped eating and wiped my mouth. My soup was almost gone, and I needed Renfrew to catch up, because if I finished before he did, I'd be tempted to take his. Maybe I could ask for seconds, but that seemed somehow uncouth.

“He seems to be doing okay, running that farm and everything. That's not an easy business to make a living.” I couldn't believe I was defending the guy.

Renfrew laughed derisively. “He's not making a living from that farm, I assure you. It's been losing money since the day he bought it.”

“So, what do you want from me?” I asked. Then I went back to the soup. I couldn't help it.

“You've met Percy and McCarter?”

“If that's their names, yes.”

“It's their job to keep Teddy out of trouble, to keep an eye on him, and let him know they are keeping an eye on him.”

I smiled condescendingly before I could hide my face.

Renfrew shrugged. “So far, they've actually been quite successful. Maybe he hasn't put them to the test, but before they were on the scene, Teddy was involved in a series of scrapes, legal and otherwise. He pulled several stunts with some college friends, a half-assed band of would-be eco-warriors. Not terribly serious, mind you: a little spray-paint, defacing a sign, letting some lab rats go. But embarrassing, nonetheless.” He looked up meaningfully. “To me.”

“I'm glad you've got it under control.” I took another break from the soup, wiped my mouth, ate a cracker. The storm was getting closer, the wind picking up and the clouds sliding in front of the sun.

“That's just it, Mr. Carrick. Recent events have shaken my confidence in Percy and McCarter. They are what they are, and they can't get close to Teddy, wouldn't know what to do if they could. Plus, Teddy seems … restless. And I am at a very sensitive stage of some very important negotiations. Very important, indeed. I cannot afford any distractions, or embarrassments.”

“Can't you just threaten to cut him off?”

“I wish I could. His grandmother left him that land. The money he is losing is from a very healthy trust fund.”

I finished my soup, and as I put the spoon down, a raindrop landed in the middle of the bowl, making a little crater in the last of the bisque.

Renfrew looked up at the sky, squinting. A raindrop landed on his forehead, and he blinked. Then he looked down at his bowl, still half full. A raindrop landed in the middle of it, then another. He looked sad. I was sad, too, and it wasn't even my soup. He smiled wistfully. “Perhaps we should go inside.”

It started to rain in earnest as we walked across the lawn, but there was an unspoken agreement that we were men, and this was serious, and we weren't going to run. And we definitely weren't going to squeal or giggle.

Marta was waiting for us at the door with two towels. I wanted to tell her how good her bisque was, but she gave me a stony look that convinced me not to.

“Well,” I said, wiping off my face, “thanks for the bisque. It was as good as you said, but I'm still not sure why I am here.”

Renfrew stopped blotting his face and folded the towel, placing it on a mahogany sideboard behind him. “I have a proposition for you.”

I waited.

“I would like you to keep an eye on Teddy. You don't have to do anything, mind you, just keep an eye on him. Let me know if he's up to anything that could hurt him. Or hurt me. Just for the next few weeks.”

“You want me to spy on him?”

“I want you to look out for him, keep him out of trouble.”

“What makes you think I'm the guy for that job?”

He shrugged. “You've been doing a pretty good job of it so far. And Percy and McCarter haven't.”

“I already have a job. I'm a cop.”

“Yes, I know. And I know you have plenty of vacation time accrued and a boss who wants you to take it—”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Please. I have many friends, and I was just doing my due diligence. If I didn't know a lot about you, I wouldn't be making you this offer.”

When I closed my mouth, he lowered his hand. “You also have an employment contract that allows you to take jobs on the side.”

“I don't think—”

“I'll pay you five thousand dollars a day if you can help me until Friday. After that, if you no longer want to do it, fine. If you want to stay, I'll give you a bonus, with another bonus each week for the next six weeks.”

“That's a lot of money.”

He smiled condescendingly. “To you it is. I'm not going to pay you any more than that, but believe me, there are many people I am paying a lot more than that, and they will not be doing anything remotely as valuable to me. And I'd hate to tell you how much I have been paying those two.”

I laughed. I'm not crazy about people looking into my private matters, but apparently I mind it less when they offer me thirty grand. “Well, yes, I am allowed to do side jobs, but nothing illegal, and this sounds a little shady.”

Renfrew threw back his head and had a big, loud, fake laugh. “Detective Carrick, I am a very successful, very legitimate businessman. Frankly, my main concern is in avoiding anything illegal or untoward. Here.” He turned to the sideboard and opened a cabinet. He turned back holding four bundles of fifties and four bundles of hundreds. “Here is thirty thousand dollars, cash, in advance. I'll send you a 1099 form so you know everything is on the up and up. I'll even call this net, and I'll take care of your withholding, Social Security, all of that. All very up and up.”

He sighed and held down the money. I didn't like seeing it go away. “Here's the thing,” he said, lowering his voice. “I'm hosting an event here on Wednesday. It is extremely important. Senators, heads of state, you name it. Percy and McCarter are too obvious, too clumsy, and too stupid, and I simply cannot afford to have that little whelp causing me any embarrassment between now and then. Between now and the end of the week, really, but first things first. You're already traveling in the same circles as Teddy. So please…” He held up the money again. “You don't even have to be as involved as you've been. Just keep an eye on him, let me know if you notice anything suspicious. If you decide after Wednesday even that is too onerous, well, you can walk away, keep the money and I'll know I've misjudged you, even against your advice.”

I wanted to keep an eye on Teddy Renfrew. I wanted to know what he was up to so it didn't blow back onto Nola. I thought about Nola and him, thought about his secret late-night meetings, and I thought about me being four hundred miles away, on the mainland.

I thought about Moose and Benjy and the bees. I thought about Annalisa, too, about people following her, threatening her. And even while I thought about her, I thought about Nola again, and the house we had looked at, the down payment we didn't have. I knew the money wasn't the main issue, but still, I pictured us again in that house and I felt my hands take the money.

“Excellent,” Renfrew said. I half expected him to call me Smithers.

He handed me a card with his phone number on it. “You let me know if you find anything, anything suspicious or potentially embarrassing. Marta also makes a wonderful quahog chowder. Come for lunch next Saturday, and we can discuss the next phase of your employment.”

 

24

By the time I left Renfrew, the sun was back out. I felt almost giddy. I had plenty of concerns about the whole turn of events, but for the moment, I was thinking happy thoughts.

I called Lieutenant Suarez and told him I was taking the time. He grunted. “You putting in for leave?”

“Vacation time, if that's okay with you.”

“There's leave if you want it, but it's up to you. You got plenty of vacation, so suit yourself. When you coming back?”

“Probably next week. We'll see how it goes.”

He grunted again. “Let me know.” Then he was gone.

I texted Danny. “Hey partner. Taking another week.”

He texted me back. “Good.”

The interaction didn't fill me with warm fuzzies, but I did feel as though a weight had been lifted off of me. Maybe I'd been dreading going back to work more than I'd thought. Or maybe I'd been dreading leaving the island more than I'd thought. The question, then, was why? Maybe because of Nola, although she was a little hot and cold and tricky all over. Maybe it was Annalisa, although as much as she was haunting my thoughts, I knew she was probably never going to be anything more than something for Nola and me to fight about.

That left Teddy Renfrew and the crazy bee stuff going down on the island. It pained me to think that I might be more excited about a douchebag I detested and a case I wasn't involved in than the affections of two beautiful women.

*   *   *

The first stop was the rental place at the airport. Steve was very happy to see me, even happier that I was trading up into something sportier, and happier still that I went whole hog on the extra insurance.

After a quick lesson on how to lower the top, I was screaming across the island in a bright yellow convertible Mustang. I felt a little conspicuous, but I figured, if not now, when? I'd been driving these roads for a few days, and they were begging for something sporty.

The second stop was going to be the Wesley Hotel, to get the honeymoon suite and surprise Nola, so she could stay somewhere nice while she was working, somewhere my feet didn't stick out of the bed. But then I tapped the brakes. She might want a place closer to the farm. She might want to ask some questions, make sure the room was chemical-free. I smiled to myself—crisis averted—and turned the car around.

Instead, I bought a baguette and some cheese and a cold six-pack of Offshore Ale.

The Mustang hugged the road, surging through the curves and over the rolling hills. The afternoon was chilly, but I drove with the top down anyway.

When I arrived at the farm, Elaine and Gwen were just coming up from the fields. They stopped when they saw me. Elaine pointed at the car and laughed. Gwen turned and yelled back at the field. Then they went on their way, both of them shaking their heads.

I felt my cheeks redden a bit, but it was a fun car. I walked up to the path leading to the field and saw Nola coming up to greet me. We smiled and waved and came together in a long kiss. She held my hand as we walked back toward the cabin.

“How did it go with Moose?” she asked.

“Okay, I guess. I mean, we did all the work we had to do. They're pretty freaked out.”

She sighed. “We all are.”

“How's your day been going?”

“Farming,” she said with a laugh and a shrug. “It's hard work, but I love it. I've never done all this hand-pollinating before. It's insanely labor-intensive, but it's giving me a much more intimate sense of how the whole thing works.” She looked at me and smiled awkwardly. “So, I guess you're leaving, then,” she said, sounding almost sad. Before I could answer, she said, “What's that?”

She was pointing at the Mustang.

“I have good news,” I told her. Her face looked like it was not expecting good news. “I'm staying.”

Her eye twitched. “What?”

“I'm staying.” I added a little shrug, nonchalant. I was starting to wonder if I had somehow miscalculated. “For the week.”

“What are you talking about? How? Why?”

It wasn't actually until that moment that I realized I needed a story. A story other than the truth.

I needed a lie.

“Um…”

“Doyle, what are you doing?”

Trying to think of a lie, I thought. Instead, I said, “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” She seemed like she was about to cry. “You can't stay.”

“What?”

“Doyle, don't you get it? You can't stay.” She wiped her eyes with the cuff of her shirt. “You know how much I care about you, but … but when I said I needed a break from the city, I wasn't just talking about the city. I meant you, too, Doyle. I need a break from you.”

My brain knew that the best thing to do was to stay calm, tell her I understood. She needed some space. The last thing she needed was for me to overreact and cause a scene. My brain assured me her reaction was natural and healthy, and our relationship would be stronger for it. Unfortunately, by the time my brain had finished talking, I was fishtailing up the driveway in a cloud of dust.

Teddy Renfrew ran onto his back porch to see what was causing the commotion. He watched as I drove past, and just before I swung around the house, I saw him turn to look back at Nola, standing there crying into her hands.

I pushed the accelerator down to the floor.

 

25

Driving without direction, I ended up in Oak Bluffs, in the narrow winding streets and tiny cottages of the Campgrounds. I wanted to drive fast and angry and this was absolutely the wrong place for it. But once in, I couldn't seem to get out. No matter where I went, the big cross on top of the church loomed over me.