“Yep. During high school, at this summer camp in Virginia. That’s how we met.” She paused, sighing. “She’s changed a little.”
“How?” Austin asked casually.
“Oh, you know.” Blythe shrugged. “Just…we used to laugh so hard, we were constantly snorting milk out of our noses. Now she’s going to this really snooty college. She joined this sorority, and she’s not nearly so down-to-earth anymore. Like, I mean, she actually cares about the difference between a Mercedes and a Lexus, Austin. Her dad’s a small-town lawyer and her mom manages this clothing store, but they’re not rich or anything, and all of a sudden Caroline’s so money obsessed.” She sighed again. “It’s kind of depressing when people change like that.”
Austin reached for a pot of hot water. “Speaking of, it’s time for a refill. Maybe I can get her to snort tea through her nose. You know, for old times’ sake.”
Caroline smiled broadly as Austin approached her table. “You read my mind.”
“I live to serve.” Austin poured hot water into her teapot.
“Hey, you ever been to Crab Claw Key?”
“Sure. It’s just down the road a ways.”
“I thought I might go on a little shopping expedition. Coconut’s not cutting it for me. It’s nothing but glitter T-shirts and Speedo swimsuits. I’m looking for something a little more checkbook challenging. Saks, Nordstrom’s, something like that. Heck, I’d settle for a Gap.”
Austin laughed. “You want that, you need to head for Miami. Don’t get me wrong. Crab Claw has some money. I mean, Senator Merrick used to live over there and Mallory Olan—you know, Diana’s mom, the romance novelist—has a place. The main drag has a few nice stores, but nothing that fancy. We’re just simple ol’ folk here in the Keys.”
“You’re teasing me,” Caroline said, turning up the volume on the accent. She pushed her book aside. “Besides, you’re a guy. What do you know about shopping? I tried Blythe, but she’s shopping impaired. I ought to ask Summer or Marquez.” She paused. “Is Marquez working today?”
“She’s coming in later.” Austin poured Caroline some fresh tea. “I think she’s a little distracted, what with Diver gone and all.”
Caroline studied her cup. “Gone?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Just kind of vanished. But then, you know Diver. I hear you two are old friends.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Summer. Diver told her you two got together yesterday to reminisce.”
Caroline shrugged. She poured sugar into her cup and slowly stirred. The spoon shivered in her hand ever so slightly, but her face was a mask of calm. “We weren’t exactly bosom buddies or anything. But yeah, we knew each other.” She lowered her voice. “To be perfectly honest, he always was a little, well, odd. It doesn’t surprise me one whit that he’s run off like this. Does anyone have a clue where he went?”
“Nope. He didn’t leave a note or anything. Very weird. We thought about calling the police—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Caroline said quickly. “I mean, for one thing, they wouldn’t do anything, anyway. I doubt he’d qualify as a missing person for a while. He’s over eighteen, he has a habit of acting strangely. And besides, they’re busy catching real criminals—rapists and burglars and murderers….”
“No one said anything about Diver being a criminal. Real or otherwise.”
“No, of course not,” Caroline said. “I just meant it would be a waste of time to bother the police. I’m sure Diver will turn up.” She offered up another broad smile. “So. When do you get off?”
“Me? My work is never done.”
“Your shift has to end eventually.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, an innocent gesture that nonetheless seemed scripted. “I thought maybe you might want to give me a tour.”
“A most tempting offer. But I do most of my shopping at 7-Eleven. That includes my wardrobe and most of my home furnishings.”
“Well, the offer stands,” Caroline said, eyes sweeping Austin from head to toe.
Austin gave his best aw-shucks grin and headed over to a nearby table to clear away some plates. Caroline returned to her reading.
She was undeniably a very attractive girl. Too bad he had the sneaking suspicion she was also very bad news.
9
Seek and Hide
Caroline browsed a rack of bathing suits without much enthusiasm. The shops on Main Street in Crab Claw Key were having a sidewalk sale. Nothing special. Certainly nothing worth suffering over in this ninety-degree temperature. The cement shimmered with heat like nothing she’d ever felt before. Even in her tank top and shorts, she was wilting fast. She had a new pair of sunglasses on, the kind all the girls at Tri-Delt were wearing, but even with the deep green lenses, she had to squint.
She moved on to a shoe shop, sorting through a pile of leather sandals. No luck. Which was probably just as well, since she was going to be short on cash soon. Unless she could con her dad into sending her another care package with a nice fat check in it, she might actually have to consider getting a job one of these days.
But it wasn’t this summer that worried her as much as next fall. Nobody knew better than she did that she’d squeezed into her sorority because her mom and her grandmother had also been members. She had the birthright. She just didn’t have the car, the understated gold jewelry, the ski vacations at Vail. At the sorority house, a grand, crumbling structure on the outskirts of campus, she was merely tolerated, like a stray cat no one had the heart to kick out.
Visiting Blythe down here in the Keys had seemed like a welcome respite from the stresses of college. She was so mellow and uncomplicated compared to Caroline’s friends at school. Being around Blythe had made Caroline start to think maybe she’d just quit the sorority and move into a dorm. It would be a humiliating social defeat, but a survivable one.
And then she’d run into Diver.
“Need any help?”
Caroline looked up, startled. A guy with a nose ring was leaning against the doorjamb. He had the spun gold hair of someone who lived from dawn to dusk in the Florida sun. Like Diver’s hair.
“No, I’m just browsing,” Caroline said.
“That’s cool, Give a yell if you need anything. The Aerosole shoes are fifteen percent off.”
“Is there anywhere around here I could get a soda?”
“The Sandcastle, down the street. It’s like right on top of the beach.”
Caroline headed down the street toward the wide ribbon of white sand filled with sunbathers. She took a seat under a striped red awning that shaded an outdoor café and ordered a large lemonade.
She watched two guys in swim trunks pass by, surfboards under their arms. One paused, pushed down his shades to check her out, grinned, and moved on. He too looked a little like Diver. How would she ever track Diver down now? He was like all these guys, a beach bum, a nomad. He could be anywhere.
She sipped at her lemonade, then rubbed the damp glass over her forehead. She’d moved too fast, pushed too hard. She’d been so excited about her little blackmail scheme that she’d forgotten not to overplay her hand.
Without Diver she had nothing. With him she could have a nice little bundle of cash. She could buy the car, the clothes, the jewelry she needed to redeem herself.
Yesterday she’d been sure she’d had him hooked too. Something about the way he’d reacted to the talk of his father’s death had made her wonder if Diver didn’t really think he had committed murder. When she’d offered to tell the cops a nice little made-up story about how she’d watched from her bedroom window as her neighbor—Diver—had bravely tried to save his daddy, she could tell Diver had no memory of what had happened that night. The guilt in his eyes, the resigned, desperate sound of his voice, told her he wanted to believe her story, but he didn’t.
Funny, when you thought about it. Because the little made-up story just happened to be true.
Of course, the police had other ideas. They assumed Diver had torche
d his house to kill his abusive father and then run. But she could clear him of all that. And there’d be plenty of insurance money waiting for the picking.
She opened her wallet to leave money for the lemonade. All her friends had a Gold Card and fat checking accounts. She could have them too, if she could just track down Diver and get him to go along with her plan.
She’d offered him an eighty-twenty split on the insurance money. Maybe she should have been a little more generous. Of course, she was new to blackmailing. And it wasn’t like there were how-to books available.
The surfboard guys returned, ogling her again. They weren’t her type—no future, no cash.
Once upon a time she’d had a wild crush on Diver. Maybe she should go fifty-fifty with him. Then he’d have money to go with his looks.
First, of course, she had to find him.
Diver skirted the shore of Crab Claw Bay, keeping an eye out for anybody who might ask the wrong questions. Fortunately most of the expensive homes along the water seemed deserted. They probably were. These were vacation homes for the rich, and most people found south Florida in the summer way too hot for vacationing.
Diana’s mom, Mallory Olan, was an exception. She lived here year-round, although she was often away, visiting friends in Europe or, like now, on extended book tours. Her huge house, a strange jumble of arched windows and fantastic turrets, stood across the bay from the Merrick estate. But Diana’s house wasn’t Diver’s destination. Not exactly.
Pausing under a palm tree, Diver surveyed the area up ahead. It was quiet and still, as if the world had been stunned into silence by the thick, unending heat. He saw no one, no gardeners, nothing except his goal—the ancient stilt house on the edge of the Olans’ property.
It was a homely, squat little bungalow, its white paint chipped and faded. From the center of the house a shaded stairway descended straight down to a small platform on the water. A rickety-looking wooden walkway ran a hundred feet from the grassy, shaded shore to the stilt house. The walkway wrapped around the house, forming a narrow deck lined with a railing.
Diver shaded his eyes, hoping to catch sight of his old friend Frank, a brown pelican. But Frank’s usual spot on the corner of the railing was empty.
It was now or never. If Diver had timed it better, he might have done this under cover of darkness. But he’d had a hard time hitching back from Miami.
He could take the walkway out to the house, but that was more visibility than he wanted to risk. Hefting his backpack and sleeping bag onto his shoulder, he waded out into the warm water. When it reached his waist, he began to swim, doing his best to keep his stuff from getting soaked.
When he reached the platform under the stilt house, he hefted himself up. It was shady, if not cool. The tar-covered pilings surrounded him. The ripe, sweet smell of dead fish and saltwater filled him with a strange, melancholy joy.
He climbed up the damp wooden stairs. The trap-door in the floorboards was open. When it came to the stilt house, the Olans had never been much for security. Diana had told him that her mother would have torn it down long ago except that as a home to bootleggers in the twenties, it was considered a historic landmark, and she got tax breaks for keeping it more or less preserved.
Diver kept low, just in case he could be seen moving past the windows. The mattress was covered with plastic. The sharp smell of mothballs hung in the air. A thin layer of white sand turned the wood floor to sandpaper on his bare feet. It was hot and musty and mildewy and dirty.
It was home.
After the fire he’d been on his own for a long time, moving from beach to beach aimlessly. But when he’d happened on the abandoned stilt house, he’d known it was the place for him. He’d slept on the roof and used the kitchen and bathroom when he needed it. And the Olans had been none the wiser. That was, until Summer had moved into the stilt house. She’d discovered him, and slowly, irrevocably, everything about his life had begun to change.
He opened the front door and sat down on the old wooden walkway, his back against the wall of the house. Out here, facing the ocean, he was safely blocked from anyone’s view.
He wasn’t sure why he’d come here. He should have moved on, headed north. He was probably much more vulnerable here, although it was remotely possible that hiding out in Crab Claw would actually give him the upper hand. Who would come looking for him here? They’d all assume he was halfway across the country by now, not secreted away in his old hangout.
Besides, he realized with a start, he’d dreamed of coming here. This was the house floating over the water. The house with the girl’s hand beckoning.
Of course, there was no girl. Just Diver, all alone.
He closed his eyes. The sun scorched his lids. The water licked at the pilings. He had never been so lonely. Even after the fire. It hurt so much more now because he’d lost so much more.
The air stirred. He opened his eyes. A pelican sat perched on the railing, his huge beak tucked under his wing. He blinked at Diver doubtfully.
“Frank,” Diver whispered.
Frank tilted his head, ever dignified, then dropped a load of white poop onto the deck.
Diver laughed. The laughter kept coming, deeper and edgier, until it turned to sobs.
10
Life and Other Games of Strategy
“Checkmate.” Summer winced, her hand poised over a black knight. “That’s, like, really bad, huh?”
Jared gave a slight, stiff nod. “That’s, like, really dead. But you were fantastic, for your first lesson.”
“You could have at least shown me a little mercy.”
“Did you show me any mercy when we played five hands of gin?”
Summer grinned. “You’re just lucky we weren’t playing for cash or I’d have bankrupted you.”
Jared leaned forward a bit in his wheelchair. “I prefer playing with you,” he confided in a barely audible whisper. “Juanita always lets me win. She thinks I need the morale boost.”
A rustle in the doorway made Summer turn around. Juanita was there, arms crossed, mouth pursed like she was sucking on a sour ball.
“Just tell me this. Is there anyone in the Keys you’re not dating?” she inquired.
Jared smiled at Summer. “I’m pretty sure she’s not talking to me.”
“There’s someone here to see you, Summer,” Juanita said. “Again.”
“Jeez, Juanita, I’m really sorry. Hardly anyone even knows I’m here—”
“It’s okay, Summer,” Jared interrupted. “Truth is, I’m beat.”
“No wonder,” Juanita said. “It’s two-thirty, and you were due for your nap at one.” She cast Summer a sidelong glance. “I’ll take over here, Summer. Maybe we should consider setting a quota on your gentleman callers.”
When Summer opened the front door, she found Austin sitting on the lawn, leaning against a palm tree and chewing on a blade of grass.
“Nice digs,” he commented. “Even better in daylight.” He patted the grass. “Take a load off.”
Summer closed the door. “Why are you here?”
“I’m not here to seduce you.” He paused. “Unless you’re putting in a request.”
“I’m working. And I’ve been informed I’m not supposed to have ‘gentleman callers.’”
“A, I’m no gentleman. And B, it’s about Diver.”
Summer rushed over. “Did you hear from him?”
“No, nothing like that. Actually, this has to do with Caroline.”
Summer gestured toward the palm-lined street. “Come on. I don’t want to upset Jared. It’s hard for him to see normal kids his own age. Not, incidentally, that you qualify.”
They fell into step down the quiet street of manicured lawns, each one boasting tropical blooms in vivid pinks, oranges, and yellows. “So,” Summer said, “what about Caroline?”
“Caroline was at Jitters this morning, and when I told her about Diver running off, something about the way she reacted didn’t sit right with me.”
/> “What do you mean?”
“She was just a little too interested in his disappearance. And her teaspoon was shaking.”
Summer couldn’t help smiling a little. “Her spoon was shaking?”
“You had to be there.” Austin shrugged. “I know it’s not much to go on, but since we know she saw Diver yesterday, she’s our only lead. I thought about saying something to Marquez, but she’s all worked up about Caroline as the other woman, and I didn’t want to set her off.”
“So what exactly do I do with this information?” Summer asked as they turned the corner. A stretch of palms provided spiky shade, but no relief from the sizzling heat. Beyond a stately white home the ocean sparkled endlessly.
“I’m not sure. I know it’s not much. But I tried.”
“You could have just called, you know.”
Austin stopped walking. A self-conscious smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “There may actually have been another reason that I stopped by. I may have wanted to ask you something.”
His words had taken on a different tone. Summer knew it very well, that whispery and insistent way his voice got, like the sound of a river moving.
“I think we’ve kind of said all the things we can say, Austin.”
He moved a little closer. She refused to look at his face, with all its complicating charms.
“I’m sorry about Seth and Diana, Summer,” Austin said. “You deserve better.”
“Thanks.”
“I know the rules here. I’m supposed to allow you to heal, maybe have a couple rebound boyfriends, then come back into play. But I’ve never been much of a Miss Manners kind of guy. And besides, there are extenuating circumstances.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you just dumped me. And as a recent dumpee, I don’t think I’m up to waiting around. So I guess what I’m asking is, where does this leave us?”