The Best of Me (16 page)

A minute later, Dawson emerged, still trying to end his exchange with the clerk. Amanda forced herself to keep a straight face, and by unspoken agreement they moved off the porch, eventually wandering toward a spot with a better view of the marina.

“The girl at the counter was flirting with you,” she observed.

“She’s just friendly.”

“She made it pretty obvious.”

He shrugged as he unscrewed the cap of his bottle. “I didn’t really notice.”

“How could you not notice?”

“I was thinking about something else.”

By the way he said it, she knew there was more, and she waited. He squinted out at the line of boats bobbing in the marina.

“I saw Abee this morning,” he finally said. “When I was out for my run.”

Amanda stiffened at the sound of his name. “Are you sure it was him?”

“He’s my cousin, remember?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Amanda tensed. “What does that mean?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a sip of water, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind. “I guess it means I stay out of sight as much as possible. Other than that, I guess I’ll play things as they come.”

“Maybe they won’t do anything.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “So far, so good, right?” He screwed the cap back on the bottle, changing the subject. “What do you think Mr. Tanner’s going to tell us? He was pretty mysterious when we talked on the phone. He wouldn’t tell me anything about the funeral.”

“He didn’t say much to me, either. My mom and I were talking about the very same thing this morning.”

“Yeah? How’s your mom doing?”

“She was a bit upset that she missed her bridge game last night. But to make up for it, she was nice enough to coerce me into having dinner at a friend’s house tonight.”

He smiled. “So… that means you’re free until dinner?”

“Why? What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out what Mr. Tanner has to say first. Which reminds me that we should probably get going. His office is just down the block.”

After Amanda secured the lid on her coffee, they started down the sidewalk, moving from one patch of shade to the next.

“Do you remember when you asked if you could buy me an ice cream?” she asked. “That first time?”

“I remember wondering why you said yes.”

She ignored his comment. “You took me to the drugstore, the one with the old-fashioned fountain and the long counter, and we both had hot fudge sundaes. They made the ice cream there, and it’s still the best I’ve ever had. I can’t believe they ended up tearing the place down.”

“When was that, by the way?”

“I don’t know. Maybe six or seven years ago? One day, on one of my visits, I noticed it was just gone. Kind of made me sad. I used to take my kids there when they were little, and they always had a good time.”

He tried to picture her children sitting next to her at the old drugstore but couldn’t quite conjure up their faces. Did they resemble her, he wondered, or take after their father? Did they have her fire, her generous heart?

“Do you think your kids would have liked growing up here?” he asked.

“When were little, they would have. It’s a beautiful town, with a lot of places to play and explore. But once they got older, they probably would have found it confining.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Like me. I couldn’t wait to leave. I don’t know if you recall, but I applied to NYU and Boston College, just so I could experience a real city.”

“How could I forget? They all sounded so far away,” Dawson said.

“Yes, well… my dad went to Duke, I grew up hearing about Duke, I watched Duke basketball on television. I guess it was pretty much etched in stone that if I got in, that’s where I’d go. And it ended up being the right choice, because the school was great and I made a lot of friends and I grew up while I was there. Besides, I don’t know that I would have liked living in New York or Boston. I’m still a small-town girl at heart. I like to hear the crickets when I go to sleep.”

“You’d enjoy Louisiana then. It’s the bug capital of the world.”

She smiled before taking a sip of her coffee. “Do you remember when we drove down to the coast when Hurricane Diana was coming? How I kept begging you to take me, and how you kept trying to talk me out of it?”

“I thought you were crazy.”

“But you took me anyway. Because I wanted you to. We could barely get out of your car, the winds were so strong, and the ocean was just… wild. It was whitecaps all the way to the horizon, and you just stood there holding me, trying to convince me to get back in the car.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Are there storms like that when you’re on the oil rig?”

“Less often than you’d think. If we’re in the projected path, we usually get evacuated.”

“Usually?”

He shrugged. “Meteorologists get it wrong sometimes. I’ve been on the fringe of some hurricanes and it’s unnerving. You’re really at the mercy of the weather, and you just have to hunker down while the rig sways, knowing that no one’s coming to the rescue if it goes over. I’ve seen some guys completely lose it.”

“I think I’d be like one of those guys who lost it.”

“You were fine when Hurricane Diana was coming in,” he pointed out.

“That’s because you were there.” Amanda slowed her pace. Her voice was earnest. “I knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I always felt safe when you were around.”

“Even when my dad and my cousins came by Tuck’s? To get their money?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Even then. Your family never bothered me.”

“You were lucky.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “When we were together, I’d see Ted or Abee in town sometimes, and every now and then I’d see your father. Oh, they’d have those little smirks on their faces if our paths happened to cross, but they never made me nervous. And then later, when I’d come back here in the summers, after Ted had been sent away, Abee and your dad kept their distance. I think they knew what you’d do if anything ever happened to me.” She came to a full stop under the shade of a tree and faced him. “So no, I’ve never been afraid of them. Not once. Because I had you.”

“You’re giving me too much credit.”

“Really? You mean you would have let them hurt me?”

He didn’t have to answer. She could tell by his expression that she was right.

“They were always afraid of you, you know. Even Ted. Because they knew you as well as I did.”

“You were afraid of me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I knew you loved me and
that you’d do anything for me. And that was one of the reasons it hurt so much when you ended it, Dawson. Because I knew even then how rare that kind of love is. Only the luckiest people get to experience it at all.”

For a moment Dawson seemed unable to speak. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.

“So am I,” she said, not bothering to hide the old sadness. “I was one of the lucky ones, remember?”

After reaching Morgan Tanner’s office, Dawson and Amanda sat in the small reception area replete with scuffed pine floors, end tables stacked with outdated magazines, and fraying upholstered chairs. The receptionist, who looked old enough to have been drawing social security for years, was reading a paperback novel. Then again, there wasn’t much else for her to do. In the ten minutes they waited, the phone never rang.

Finally, the door swung open, revealing an elderly man with a shock of white hair, gray caterpillars for eyebrows, and a rumpled suit. He waved them into his office. “Amanda Ridley and Dawson Cole, I presume?” He shook their hands. “I’m Morgan Tanner, and I’d like to express my sympathies to both of you. I know this must be hard.”

“Thank you,” Amanda said. Dawson simply nodded.

Tanner ushered them to a pair high-backed leather chairs. “Please sit down. This shouldn’t take long.”

Tanner’s office was nothing like the reception area, with mahogany shelving neatly stacked with hundreds of law books and a window that overlooked the street. The desk, an ornate antique with detailed molding on the corners, was topped with what appeared to be a Tiffany lamp. A walnut box sat in the center of the desk, which faced the leather armchairs.

“I want to apologize for being late. I was tied up on the phone, taking care of some last-minute details.” He kept talking as he
shuffled around the desk. “I suppose you’re wondering why all the secrecy about the arrangements, but that was the way Tuck wanted it. He was rather insistent and had his own ideas about things.” He inspected them from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “But I suppose you two already know that.”

Amanda stole a look at Dawson as Tanner took his seat and reached for the file in front of him. “I also appreciate that both of you were able to make it. After listening to him talk about you, I know that Tuck would have appreciated it as well. I’m sure you both have questions, so let me go ahead and get started.” He shot them a quick smile, revealing surprisingly even and white teeth. “As you know, Tuck’s body was discovered on Tuesday morning by Rex Yarborough.”

“Who?” Amanda asked.

“The mailman. It turns out that he’d made it a point to check in on Tuck fairly regularly. When he knocked at the door, no one answered. The door was unlocked, though, and when he went in, he found Tuck in his bed. He called the sheriff, and the determination was made that no foul play was involved. That was when the sheriff called me.”

“Why did he call you?” Dawson asked.

“Because Tuck had asked him to. He’d made it known to the sheriff’s department that I was his executor and should be contacted as soon as possible after he passed.”

“You make it sound like he knew he was dying.”

“I think he had a sense that it was coming,” Tanner said. “Tuck Hostetler was an old man, and he wasn’t afraid to confront the realities of his advancing age.” He shook his head. “I just hope I can be as organized and resolute when my time approaches.”

Amanda and Dawson exchanged glances but said nothing.

“I urged him to let you both know about his final wishes and plans, but he wanted to keep them secret for some reason. I still can’t explain it.” Tanner sounded almost paternal. “He also made it obvious that he cared deeply about you two.”

Dawson sat forward. “I know it isn’t important, but how did you two know each other?”

Tanner nodded, as if he’d expected the question. “I met Tuck eighteen years ago, when I brought in a classic Mustang for him to restore. At the time, I was a partner at a large firm in Raleigh. I was a lobbyist, if you want to know the truth. Did a lot of work with agriculture. But to make a long story short, I stayed down here for a few days to monitor the progress. I only knew of Tuck by reputation and I didn’t quite trust him with my car. Anyway, we kind of got to know each other, and I realized I liked the pace of life around here. A few weeks later, when I finally came back to pick up my car, he didn’t charge me near what I thought he would, and I was amazed at his work. Fast-forward fifteen years. I was feeling burned out and I decided on a whim to move down here and retire. Only it didn’t quite take. After a year or so, I opened a small practice. Not much, just wills mainly and a real estate closing now and then. I don’t need to work, but it gives me something to do. And my wife couldn’t be happier that I’m out of the house for a few hours a week. Anyway, I happened to see Tuck at Irvin’s one morning and told him that if he ever needed anything, I’d be around. And then, last February, surprising no one more than me, he took me up on the offer.”

“Why you and not—”

“Another attorney in town?” Tanner asked, finishing for him. “I got the impression that he wanted an attorney who didn’t have deep roots in this town. He didn’t put much faith in attorney-client privilege, even when I assured him it was absolute. Is there anything more I can add that I didn’t cover?”

When Amanda shook her head, he pulled the file closer to him and slipped on a pair of reading glasses. “Then let’s get started. Tuck left instructions on how he wanted me to handle things as his executor. You should know those wishes included the fact that he didn’t want a traditional funeral. Instead, he asked that, after his death, I arrange for cremation, and per his wishes as to the timing,
Tuck Hostetler was cremated yesterday.” He motioned toward the box on his desk, leaving no doubt that it held Tuck’s ashes.