Summer Rental (12 page)

“This is serious, Maryn,” Adam had said. “Listen. We had outside auditors show up at the office today. They wouldn’t tell anybody what they were looking for, but I know for a fact that something’s funny with half a dozen of our accounts.”

She shrugged. “What’s that got to do with me? I haven’t worked there in months. And anyway, I just handled claims processing.”

“This isn’t about you,” Adam said. “It’s about your husband.”

“Don?” She still didn’t get it.

Adam smirked. “How do you think he got so rich? How many other CPAs do you know who live like him? The houses, new cars, trips to Vegas, Palm Beach, Bermuda? How much do you think it costs to belong to a country club like yours?” He gestured towards Maryn’s engagement ring. “Robby Prescott is old money, third generation, and his wife doesn’t have a ring like that.”

“That’s crazy,” Maryn said heatedly. She got up to leave. “Don doesn’t have to steal. He owns investment property, an office building on the south side, some self-storage companies. Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean he’s a crook.”

Adam grabbed her sleeve, and her coffee spilled all over the table, splashing on her favorite Armani skirt. “Listen to me,” he insisted. “The guy is dirty. There’s money missing, or at least unaccounted for. Like, two million dollars.”

“You’re talking about my husband,” Maryn said, her voice cold. “Now let go. And don’t call me again. Ever.”

Her anger lasted all of a day. And then she started to wonder. Just where did all Don’s money come from? Why was he so secretive about his business affairs? He was generous with her, but she had no checking account of her own, not even a debit card, only credit cards, and she never saw a bill or bank statement. Everything was sent directly to his office. If she needed cash, she asked, and Don gave. “I’m your own personal ATM,” he told her more than once, graphically demonstrating just what he expected from her in return for his generosity.

And exactly twenty-four hours after her meeting with Adam, Maryn had started to look for answers. And what she found was much, much more than she bargained for. The truth hadn’t set her free at all, she thought now. It had sent her running for her life.

She put the phone away and dismissed any thought of asking anybody for help. Who would believe her? For now, she had more pressing matters to attend to. Her designer clothes—big-city career pieces—made her stand out like a sore thumb in a beach town. And the few pieces of clothing she’d hurriedly thrown into her duffle were just as unsuited to her current situation.

There was an outlet mall just down the road. She’d pick up a new wardrobe for the new person she’d just invented on the spot, a few minutes ago. Madison would need some shorts and T-shirts, a pair of Levi’s, some flip-flops. And her own clothes—Maryn’s clothes, the ones with all those expensive designer tags that she’d once lusted over? There was a Goodwill donation bi
n in the parking lot of the mall. That would be the end of Maryn. And the beginning of Madison.

*   *   *

“Here she comes,” Dorie said, as the Volvo bumped along down the driveway.

“Nice car,” Julia said, eyeing it. “Wonder where she stole it?”

“Be nice,” Dorie warned, jumping up from the rocking chair she’d been perched on.

She waited until Madison had parked the car in front of the driveway, and then walked slowly down to meet her.

“Hi, Madison,” Dorie said, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here. Did you have any trouble finding us?”

“Not at all,” Madison said, unloading her duffle bag and laptop case from the trunk.

“Here,” Dorie said, tugging at the strap of the duffle bag, “Let me help you carry your stuff in.”

“No!” Madison jerked the duffle bag away. “I mean, no thanks. I can manage by myself.”

“All right,” Dorie said. “Come on up to the porch. We’re just having some iced tea. The girls are dying to meet you.”

“If it’s all right with you,” Madison said, “I’ve had a long day. I’d just as soon see my room first, and get settled in. Maybe we could handle the introductions later?”

Dorie’s cheeks flushed hot pink. “Actually, I was a little bit premature in offering to rent the room without everybody having met you first. “

Madison’s smile was tight. “They want to check me out, make sure I’m not some kind of freak, right?”

“I’m so sorry. It’s just that I did this all on my own, without consulting anybody,” Dorie said apologetically. “I’m not usually this impulsive. But I’m sure it’ll be fine, as soon as they meet you.”

Madison let out a long sigh of annoyance. “Let’s get it over with then.”

*   *   *

“Girls,” Dorie said, “this is Madison.”

Ellis stood up and held out her hand. “Madison, hi. I’m Ellis Sullivan.”

Julia stayed in her rocking chair. She looked Madison up and down and finally put down her glass of iced tea. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Julia.”

“Hi there,” Madison said warily. She clutched her pocketbook and looked around the porch. “This looks very nice. Thanks for agreeing to let me horn in on your getaway.”

“We’re glad to have you,” Ellis said. She gestured towards the rocking chair she’d just abandoned. “Join us, won’t you? I just made a pitcher of iced tea.”

“Thank you,” Madison said. She put the duffle bag and laptop on the floor beside the rocking chair and took the glass of iced tea Ellis poured.

An uneasy silence fell over the porch, punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of Julia’s chair, rocking back and forth on the worn wooden floorboards.

“I guess Dorie told you about all of us,” Ellis said, anxious to break t
he ice.

“Not really,” Madison said. “She just said you all were old friends. From Savannah?”

“Actually, I’m the only one still living in Savannah,” Dorie said, jumping in. “I teach English at a Catholic girls’ high school. Ellis lives in Philadelphia, and she’s in banking.”

“Was in banking,” Ellis said. “I’ve just been downsized.”

“And Julia lives in London. When she’s not traveling. She’s a model. You’ve probably seen her in magazines. Sumptuesse shampoo? That was Julia,” Dorie said. “She was the face of Sumptuesse.”

“But not lately,” Julia said wryly. “What about you, Madison? What brings you to Nags Head?”

Madison had been waiting for it, and she was ready with an answer that was mostly true.

“I’m running away from home,” she said glibly, with a toss of her head. “Man troubles.”

“So sorry,” Dorie said, reaching out and awkwardly patting Madison’s hand.

“I’ll get over it,” Madison said, her smile tight.

“Where’s home?” Julia said, pressing on.

“Good question,” Madison said smoothly. “I’ve bounced around a lot. Jersey most recently. But that’s about to change. I’m examining my options.”

“I know what that’s like,” Ellis said, nodding her head in agreement. “Time for reinvention, right? I’m not even sure I’ll go back into banking.”

“What?” Dorie said, looking confused. “You never told us you’re planning a career change. What would you do?”

Ellis shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll take up skydiving. Or run away and join the circus.”

“Right,” Julia said. “And I’ll take up brain surgery.”

“Ellis is afraid of heights,” Dorie said, seeing Madison’s questioning look. “And Julia can’t stand the sight of blood. She flunked high school biology because she refused to dissect her fetal pig.”

Madison yawned and set down her iced tea glass. “Sorry,” she said. “I hope I’m not being rude, but I really am tired after a day of driving.” She glanced over at Dorie. “If that’s all right?”

“Of course,” Dorie exclaimed, looking over at the other two women. “Right?”

Julia shrugged. Ellis stood up again. “Welcome to Ebbtide,” she said warmly.

“Come on, Madison,” Dorie said. “I’ll show you your room. Or would you like to see the rest of the house first?”

“I’ll take the tour later, if you don’t mind,” Madison said.

“All right,” Dorie said, trying not to look surprised. “Sure. Well, your entrance is around the back of the house. I’ll show you the way.”

“Thanks,” Madison said.

Dorie picked her way carefully up the three flights of stairs, clinging tightly to the metal rail. The paint was rusted and peeling and stuck to the damp palms of her hand. Madison was only a few steps behind, and while Dorie could feel herself winded after just the first floor, the other woman’s step was light, her breathing unaffected.

She and Ellis had made quick work of getting the room ready for their guest. The room, which had been empty, was stifling, so they switched on the
air-conditioning unit to try and cool it down. Then, while Ellis made up the bed with clean linens, Dorie had dragged a small oak dresser, nightstand, and ancient green desk lamp from the attic storage space. They’d damp mopped the floor and swept the cobwebs from the windowsills. It had taken both of them to force open the warped door to the outside-stair landing. It obviously hadn’t been used in quite a while.

Dorie opened the door and stepped aside to let Madison enter the room first, keeping her fingers crossed that the room would meet her approval.

It took Madison only a moment to look around. She set her duffle bag on the bed and stood her laptop case on the dresser. She walked over and looked out the front window. From here she had a clear view of the street. A double window faced the ocean.

“It’s fine,” she said briskly.

“I’m glad,” Dorie said. She pointed through the bedroom door to the stair landing. “Your bathroom is right there. You have a set of clean towels. There’s a laundry room off the kitchen.”

“What about the key?” Madison asked.

“The key?”

“To the door,” Madison said impatiently. “Doors, that is.”

“Oh.” Dorie looked at the exterior door they’d just come through. It had an old-fashioned keyhole. The bedroom door had a thumb-latch lock, but nothing else. “We don’t have a key to the outside stairway,” Dorie admitted. “I guess maybe we could ask Mr. Culpepper about getting one.”

“Yes,” Madison said. “I’ll need a key.”

“I don’t think there is a lock for your bedroom door,” Dorie said, gesturing towards it. “But you don’t need to worry about that. Since you’ve got the whole top floor, nobody else will be coming up here.”

“I’d feel better about having a lock,” Madison said.

“Really? I mean, we do have locks on the downstairs doors,” Dorie said, “and I’ll get you a key made for those. But half the time we don’t even remember to lock up. It’s the beach, and I guess that’s not something we worry about.”

“I worry about it,” Madison said firmly, her hand on the door to the inside-stair landing. “I’m used to living in the city. I won’t sleep until I have a lock and a key—to both these doors. I’ll be happy to pay to get a locksmith in.”

Her eyes flickered to the hallway, a clear signal to Dorie that she was dismissed.

“All right,” Dorie said finally, getting the hint. “I’ll let you get some rest. And I’ll get Ellis to ask Mr. Culpepper about the locks.”

“Thank you,” Madison said, giving Dorie a tight smile. “I’d appreciate that.” She picked up the Prada bag, took out a thick, white envelope and handed it to Dorie. “My rent,” she said. “I just assumed your friends wouldn’t want to take a check.”

Dorie’s face colored. “Well, uh, we hadn’t really discussed that.…”

Madison started to close the door.

“Oh!” Dorie said, poking her head back inside. “I nearly forgot. We take turns cooking, and tonight’s my night. It’s nothing fancy, just rotisserie chicken from Harris Teeter and Caesar salad. But we’d love it if you’d join us for dinner. We usually eat between seven and eight.”

“That’s very sweet,” Madison said. “But I’ll probably take a rain check. That club sandwich I had this afternoon will tide me over ’til morning.”

“Well … if you change your mind, or want to join us in a glass of wine or something,” Dorie said, heading down the stairs. “Just come on down.”

“I’ll do that.” Madison closed the door, and Dorie heard the thumb latch click into place.

*   *   *

Julia and Ellis were sitting on the sofa in the living room when Dorie got downstairs.

“Well?” Ellis asked expectantly. “Did she like the room?”

“More importantly, did she pay the rent?” Julia asked.

Dorie sat down in one of the faded chintz armchairs by the fireplace. “She liked the room fine, as far as I could tell. Madison’s just, well … reserved, I guess you’d say.” She held up the envelope of cash. “And yes,
she gave me the rent money. In cash.” She stared accusingly at Julia. “She was sure you guys wouldn’t take her check.”

“Cash is king,” Julia said lightly. “Is she coming downstairs for dinner?” Julia craned her neck in the direction of the stairs, as though Madison might be coming down at any moment.

“Not right now,” Dorie said. “She said she’s pretty tired. I get the feeling she might have just driven into town today.”

“She’s got New Jersey tags on that Volvo she’s driving,” Julia reported. “And I think you’re right about her having money, Dorie. That is not a cheap car. Those XC70s run around forty-seven thousand dollars, and that’s just for the basics. Hers is loaded, got the onboard nav screen and the works.”

“How do you suddenly happen to know so much about cars?” Ellis asked. “You haven’t owned one in years, right?”

“Oh, Booker’s turned into a total gearhead,” Julia said airily. “That’s the car he’s been lusting after for months now.”

Dorie had opened the envelope and was silently counting the money. “You guys,” she said, looking from Julia to Ellis. “There’s three thousand dollars here. All in fifty-dollar bills.”

Ellis peered over Dorie’s shoulder at the cash. “Didn’t you say she only wanted to pay half in advance and half at the end of the month?”

“Let me see that,” Julia said, putting out her hand for the money. She fanned the bills out across her bare, tanned legs. “Holy mother,” Julia said. “Dorie’s right. And these are all brand-new bills. What do you make of that?”

“Maybe she knocked over a bank on the way over here?” Ellis said, giggling uneasily at her own joke.

“She did ask if we could get a new lock put on that door to the outside staircase. And get the key to her room,” Dorie said reluctantly. “And she wants a key to the front door too. She said she was willing to pay to have a locksmith come in. Maybe that’s why the extra money.”