Tangled Lies (13 page)

Had he known about the drugs? Was he involved? The Jesse she knew years ago would never have gotten near them, but . . . somehow there was a piece missing. Why had he said the drugs were his?

She finally climbed into bed, but sleep was a long time coming.

Chapter 8

Jesse tightened the last bolt and straightened, putting both hands on his lower back. He felt the grease on his hands and grimaced, glad he’d taken off his only decent shirt before he started working. He reached for a clean shop rag and grinned as he put his tools away.

Just a few more tweaks and the motor would be ready. He planned to test it again tomorrow. Once he was sure the engine ran like a top, he could get serious about practicing for the upcoming race.

He had just stepped out of the shed, ready to lock it behind him, when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. Adelaide’s mother wouldn’t call at 1:00 a.m. unless it was important. “Hey, Tracy, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Jesse. I’m sorry to call so late, but I needed someone to talk to.” She stopped and blew her nose. “Adelaide is back in the hospital. Her blood oxygen levels were horrible and her heart keeps getting weaker. I just can’t-can’t watch my baby fight anymore. I’m afraid she won’t-won’t . . . that she won’t live long enough to have the surgery.”

Jesse tried to block the images of little nine-month-old Adelaide stuck full of tubes, the way she’d been last week. “She’s a fighter, Tracy, just like her mama. Her daddy was one tough son of a gun, too. I was glad to know he had my back over there with bombs exploding in the desert. Adelaide is going to get through this. She will have that surgery and be running around like a little terror before you know it.”

“Do you really believe that, Jesse?”

“I do. You have to keep the faith, and keep being strong. For Adelaide’s sake.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to keep paying the bills.” Her voice trailed off and Jesse heard her sobs. With any other woman, he might have been suspicious of the tears, but Ethan had told him how much some of these treatments cost, even with insurance.

“You know I’ll do what I can, and I’ll keep doing it. I just need a little time to get some funds together. But I will. Trust me.”

“I do trust you, Jesse. I know Ethan did, too. Thanks for listening.”

As he talked, he walked to the gravel lot and climbed into his truck. “You can call me anytime, day or night. Get some sleep. Your girl will need you to be strong and smiling tomorrow.”

She let out a laugh, a bit shaky, but still a laugh. “Thanks, Jesse. You’re the best. Night.”

Jesse disconnected and heaved out a sigh, then slammed a fist against the steering wheel. He’d promised Ethan he’d take care of his girls, and he’d meant it.

He had to win that race.

Sasha gave up trying to sleep and padded downstairs, avoiding the creaky steps. Bella silently fell in behind her. The screen door squeaked and Sasha grimaced, hoping she didn’t wake anyone. Head down, she wandered toward the marina office, mind jumping from worry to worry, but she always came back to Jesse. How did everything she’d learned about him affect her opinion of him? Or did it? Should it? She had no idea what to do with all the crazy feelings he churned up inside her, especially the ones that made her want to stay right here in Safe Harbor with him. Maybe forever. She snorted as she opened the door to the office and flipped on the light. She held the door for Bella, surprised she wasn’t right behind her.

Sasha started a pot of coffee and settled into Pop’s ancient desk chair. The house had always been Mama’s domain, but the marina office, that was hers and Pop’s. She’d always had free run of the place and had begun helping him keep the books when she was fifteen. In many ways, this felt more like home than her bedroom under the eaves.

She started opening drawers, searching for . . . something. When it came to Tony’s disappearance, Pop’s reactions—then and now—didn’t make sense. The odds were minuscule, but maybe his office would yield answers. Or at the very least, insight.

The top desk drawers held the usual assortment of office supplies, the other drawers neat stacks of receipts going back ten years, some still with her handwriting on them. Sasha pushed back and headed to the four-drawer metal file cabinet against the wall. It was locked, but the key had always hung from a nail beside it. She started flipping through folders, not surprised to find more of the same. Hadn’t she helped create the filing system?

Still, she felt compelled to search all of it. When she came to the bottom drawer, she knelt down on the floor and moved the hanging files. Something slipped down into the bottom of the drawer.

She picked it up and found a postcard. The front said
Happy Birthday
in large block letters. She flipped it over, and her heart stuttered. It was addressed to Mama and simply said,
I’m so sorry.

Sasha sank down onto the floor, heart racing. No signature or return address, but the postmark was dated five years after Tony disappeared, stamped in Tampa.

What kind of birthday card was this? Who did that? Her first thought: it had to do with Tony. A chill raced up her arms. Had someone accidentally killed him and felt guilty? What was the postcard doing in here? Did Mama even know about it?

Sasha hopped up, ready to confront her parents, when logic kicked in. She stopped. Took a breath. She was letting her imagination run away with her. There could be any number of completely logical, innocent reasons someone sent that card. A spat with a friend. Even something as simple as a missed birthday and feeling bad.

She looked at the time. She had to get some sleep before she ran off half-cocked. Tomorrow she’d ask about it, like a normal, rational person.

She turned off the light and closed the door.

“Bella?” she called quietly.

No answer. A prickle of unease slid up her spine. Bella never ran off. When she climbed up the porch steps, Sasha studied the marina, but nothing seemed out of place. Nerves humming, she went back upstairs.

Something wasn’t right.

Sasha must have fallen asleep, because her phone’s alarm clock scared her awake before dawn. She lay still for a moment, struggling to get her brain in gear. Right, she had told Pop she’d open the bait shop this morning so he could spend time with Mama.

Where was Bella? She pushed up on her elbows and scanned the floor by the bed. Slowly, events clicked into place. Bella wouldn’t come inside last night. Which she’d never done, ever. Between Jesse’s kiss, the news articles, and the postcard, Sasha had been distracted. She should have looked for her.

In the kitchen, she started the coffee and hurried out to the porch, not surprised at the number of fishermen milling around the docks and ramp, launching boats.

“Bella? Here, girl.” Nothing. Her anxiety grew with every passing second. If not for her promise to Pop, she’d start a search right now. Maybe she was overreacting. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Instead, she’d act like a calm, responsible adult and hope Bella showed up in a little while, muddy from a romp in the woods. Cup in hand, she walked out on the dock and unlocked the marina office.

“Morning, all. Come on in.”

“You’re not usually here this early,” Harvey said.

Sasha went straight to the industrial coffeepot and got that going. “Not usually, but I thought Pop could use a little extra shut-eye. You taking a group out today?”

Harvey grinned. “Yeah, they found me through that website my twelve-year-old grandson set up for me. Go figure.”

Sasha laughed and handed him his coffee and change. “Times are changing, aren’t they?”

“I can’t keep up.” He held the door for a family staggering in, trying to wake up. “Take good care of my customers for me, Sasha, will you?”

“Sure, Harvey. Good morning and welcome to Safe Harbor Marina. What can I get for you?”

Several minutes later, Chad Everson and Nick Stanton stepped up to the register, sodas, snacks, and a bait bucket in hand.

“Don’t you have school today?” she asked.

Chad grinned from under his ball cap. “The main air conditioner quit, so I get an unexpected day off.”

Beside him, Nick flashed white teeth. “And I was off today, so we’re taking advantage.” He sobered. “Sorry about yesterday.”

Sasha ignored the last. “Didn’t realize y’all were fishermen.”

“I grew up near Crystal River.” Chad nodded to Nick. “He grew up near Miami.”

“I spent every minute I could out on the water with my father.” He looked around the bait shop. “Somehow, this place reminds of me home.”

She wished them good luck and spent the next two hours ringing up coffee, bait, and candy bars for the fishermen and soda, sunscreen, and Safe Harbor Marina ball caps for the tourists.

By the time Pop came in a little after nine, Sasha couldn’t wait any longer. “Pop, have you seen Bella? Was she up at the house?”

Pop leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Nope, haven’t seen her. Figured she’d be here with you.”

“She wouldn’t come inside last night and I haven’t seen her this morning. This isn’t like her. You mind if I take a look around, make sure she’s all right?”

“Sure. Just watch for snakes if you go in the woods.”

This time, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Grew up here, remember? Haven’t forgotten.”

“Well, get on with you then, miss know-it-all.”

Sasha started by checking inside the house again, then the area around the house. She called Bella’s name as she walked in an ever-widening circle around the marina.

“Sasha! Over here.” She spun and saw Jesse striding toward her, a limp Bella in his arms.

She started running and met him in the middle of the parking lot. “What’s wrong with her? Where did you find her?”

“I heard her moan when I went out to check on my boat trailer.” He kept walking toward his shed. Sasha jumped in front of him and fumbled to open the door.

She grabbed a tarp and threw an old towel on top of it, and Jesse gently laid Bella down. Sasha dropped on her knees and stroked Bella’s silky head. “Hey, girl. What’s wrong? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?”

Bella fluttered her eyes and finally got them open, but they were glassy. She whimpered and Sasha made soothing noises, stroking her head. Suddenly Bella staggered to her feet and retched. Sasha leaped out of the way just in time. It took a few minutes to empty her stomach, but when she was done, Bella swayed on her feet and staggered outside to crop grass.

Sasha watched her for a few minutes, then turned back to see Jesse studying the mess on the floor.

He met her eyes and said, “Call me crazy, but I think she may have been poisoned.”

Chapter 9

Sasha’s heart stuttered. “Poisoned?” She crouched down by the tarp where Jesse poked the mess with a screwdriver. “What makes you think that?”

“Did you feed Bella hunks of salami or anything like that last night?”

“No. Never. She loves it, but it doesn’t digest well.”

Jesse poked again. “Looks like someone gave her quite a bit.”

Sasha leaned closer and wrinkled her nose. “Maybe someone gave it to her while you and I were out last night.”

Jesse shrugged. “I know my friend Ethan always buried his dog’s meds in sausage or salami so the smell would disguise the taste and distract the dog.”

Bella wandered back in and plopped down beside Sasha. Her eyes looked less glassy and her tail thumped when Sasha scratched behind her ears.

“She seems to be OK, thank God. But I’m taking her to the vet anyway, just to be sure.” Everything inside her felt shaky as she leaned over to kiss the top of Bella’s head. She kept her voice calm. “So, without jumping to conclusions or becoming a conspiracy theorist, why would someone poison my dog?”

Jesse looked around the shed, jaw clenched, and Sasha followed his gaze. She registered the destruction around her for the first time and hopped to her feet. “What happened? This place is a mess.”

Jesse nodded and their eyes met. “I worked some last night after we got back. I got a phone call and forgot to lock the door when I left.”

Sasha scanned the room. “Did someone just trash it, or did they destroy things?” She nodded to the carburetor on the workbench. “Did they sabotage it?”

“I’m still checking, but I don’t think so.” He picked several tools off the floor. “It looks like someone just wanted to be annoying.”

Sasha could feel the anger Jesse kept under control, so she matched his calm tone. “Is this because they don’t want you in town, or because of the race, do you think?”

He shrugged and thumped the tools on the workbench with more force than necessary. “This seems more like not wanting a guy with my quote ‘unsavory past’ in their pristine little town.”

She furrowed her brow, thinking. “I buy that. Safe Harbor has never been known for its open-mindedness. But why drug Bella? It seems like whoever did this wasn’t trying to kill her, thank God, just knock her out, keep her quiet and out of the way. So if they planned far enough ahead to do that, to bring the drugs, why just toss the place? They bought themselves time. Why not use it?”

Jesse stopped picking things off the floor and met her gaze. “I don’t know. Maybe they got interrupted.”

“What if this isn’t about you?” Sasha scanned the room again, thinking aloud.

Jesse tossed something into the trash, where it landed with a clatter. “My shed. My mess. They already attacked my truck. How can it not be about me?”

He had a point. Still, it wouldn’t quite jell in her mind. “What if it’s about Tony?”

He stopped, stared at her, considered.

“What if, as we said, Tony didn’t drown? What if something else happened and somebody doesn’t want the truth to come out?” Even as she said the words, a chill raced over her skin, and Sasha rubbed her arms. “Of course, the idea that someone here, someone I’ve known forever, could have been a part of something like that terrifies me.”

Jesse leaned against the workbench and crossed his arms. “I think you should tell Mama Rosa that there’s nothing to find and leave it at that.”

Sasha thought she must have misunderstood. “Someone may or may not be trying to get me to back off and you think I should? Is that what you’re saying?”

He nodded. “They drugged your dog, Sasha. You willing to have something worse happen because you’re determined to poke around in the past?”

“Just the fact someone wants me to stop is the main reason to keep digging.”

Suddenly he stood before her, hands on her arms. “It’s dangerous. Doesn’t your family have enough to worry about right now?”

She tried to shrug him off, but he wouldn’t release her. “When did you become a coward, Money-boy? When did the truth stop mattering to you?”

Her words hit harder than she’d intended, and she saw his eyes darken with pain. His grip tightened and he leaned closer. “The truth has always mattered to me. But it becomes cold comfort when you’re staring down at a grave.”

His words made her heart beat faster, but she couldn’t agree. “You’re overreacting, Jesse. Besides, we have absolutely no proof of any of this. We have a sick dog and a trashed shed and planted drugs—”

“And slashed tires,” Jesse added.

She nodded. “And slashed tires. Which, frankly, could all be about you coming back to town and be somebody’s misguided idea of how to get you to leave.” She paused and leaned back to poke his chest for emphasis. “Or it could have nothing to do with you—and everything to do with Tony.”

She thrust the postcard at him. Watched as he turned it over, studied the postmark. She waited but he didn’t say a word, merely clenched his jaw and handed it back to her.

“Go away and let me get this place cleaned up.” He turned his back on her, so she walked to the door, not quite sure what had just happened.

She had one foot over the threshold when he said, “Be careful, Sasha. It’s obvious things in this little town are not what they seem.”

Sasha stepped back out into the sunshine, Bella at her side, and scanned the fishermen milling about the docks, most of whom she’d known forever. She tried to mesh this scene with everything that had happened recently and worried that maybe Money-boy had it right.

All she had to do was figure out what to do about it.

Sasha went back up to the house to check on Mama. She met Blaze in the hallway. “How’s Mama today?”

Blaze just shrugged and kept walking.

“Blaze, wait.” She stopped, but wouldn’t turn around. “Are you OK?”

Sasha heard a sniff and a mumbled, “Fine.”

Sasha sighed and walked up behind her, unsure what to say. “It’s tough stuff to watch the people you care about hurt.”

Blaze turned at that, accusation in every line of her body. “How would you know? You never sit with Mama, never see the hurt.”

Sasha barely kept from flinching at the punch of truth. “I’ve been doing what Mama asked me to do and helping Pop with the marina. Which Mama also asked.”

“You’re scared. So you avoid her.”

Sasha forced herself to meet her eyes. “That, too. You’re doing the tough stuff, sitting with Mama.”

Blaze wiped tears from her eyes and streaked black mascara all over her face. “The new meds are worse than the last ones. She’s puking all the time.”

“Do you want me to go sit with her for a while?”

Blaze shook her head. “She’s asleep right now. I’ll be in my room so I can hear her when she wakes up.” She looked over at where Bella had fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. “She seems weird today. Is she OK?”

Sasha debated how much to say. “I think she’ll be fine. My guess is she got into something last night she shouldn’t have.” Which was true, to a point. “You didn’t see or hear anything strange late last night, did you?”

Her eyes behind the dark mascara smears sharpened. “What happened?”

“Someone trashed the shed Jesse is using.”

“What, because he was in jail?”

Sasha shrugged. “We don’t know. Just that folks haven’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat.”

“I hate this stupid town,” Blaze muttered, and stormed off.

Jesse had the shed and all his tools almost put back the way they were when Sal walked in. He eyed the pile of trash near the door and stepped over to the workbench where Jesse was wiping down his tools.

“Sasha said someone made a mess in here last night.”

Jesse glanced over his shoulder. “Appears so.”

“Did they take anything?”

“Nope. Not as far as I can tell. Just tore the place up.”

“Did you want me to, ah, call the cops, see if they can figure out who did it?”

Jesse turned and leaned against the workbench, arms propped behind him. “Cops aren’t high on my list of favorite people right now. Besides, there isn’t much they can do. I got a phone call and forgot to lock up.”

Sal nodded, removed his fisherman’s cap, and scrubbed a hand over his head.

“You’re probably right. Not much they can do.” He put his cap back on and paced the room once, twice, and Jesse wondered how long it would take before he worked up the courage to say whatever he’d come to say.

Sal stopped, cleared his throat, and looked at a point beyond Jesse’s shoulder as he spoke. “Look, Jesse, I know you own part of the marina, but in light of the circumstances, it would be better if you took your boat and set up shop somewhere else. It will take me a while, but I’ll come up with the money to buy you out.”

Jesse didn’t move, but his heart jumped into overdrive. He couldn’t go anywhere else, not and have a prayer of winning that race. Not only would he have to find dockage at another marina—at a price he could afford, which meant free—but he’d probably have to find a place to live, too, or spend a fortune commuting. Which he couldn’t afford, either. And not many places would have a shed like this to work in. He couldn’t leave. Not yet.

“Sal, I understand what you’re saying, I really do. But—”

“I don’t want any trouble, Jesse. You understand that, right? With Rosa’s treatments and all, I can’t risk things happening here.”

Something about the way he phrased it tripped Jesse’s radar. “You afraid local folks won’t leave it alone? Won’t leave me alone?”

Sal started pacing again. “I can’t say for sure. That’s what worries me. Safe Harbor Marina is a safe place, a family place. Tourist business is just starting to pick up again after a long dry spell. I can’t risk our reputation.”

“Looks like we have a problem then, Sal, because I’m not leaving. Every penny I have is tied into this boat and my truck. I’m staying until after the big race. I need to win that race. The prize money will help me repay a debt to a good friend. If you still want me gone after that, I’ll consider it. But not before.”

Sal rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d rather you not go at all, but I don’t see as how I have a choice. I have to protect my family and my business.”

“Unfortunately for you, it’s partly my business, too. I know most folks don’t realize that. I’ll do my best to keep a low profile, but that’s the best I can do.”

Sal huffed out an almost-laugh. “You are many things, boy. Invisible isn’t one of them.”

He walked to the door, paused, and looked back over his shoulder. “You sure I can’t convince you to go?”

“Nope, sorry.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Sal sighed and left. Jesse watched him go, eyes narrowed. That had to be the oddest conversation he’d had in a good long while.

Sasha worked with Pop in the marina store for several more hours, helping charter captains restock supplies, admiring their customers’ catches, processing fuel payments, wishing everyone a good evening. By the time suppertime approached, most of their business was done for the day. The last of the pleasure boaters were heading back in, sunburned and laughing, ready to head home or to the Blue Dolphin for a cold beer and a greasy meal.

Sasha finished processing the receipts and poked her head into Pop’s workshop, where he carefully sanded a piece of wood for one of the model boats he loved to build.