“I met Bom at a club. He already knew I was waiting tables for extra cash at Cuppa J. He set me up with some good coke and a stack of Benjamins for doing him one little favor on July Fourth. I slipped David Mintzer something that would give him a migraine. Payback for losing the restaurant—that’s what Bom told me. I had no idea anyone was going to get shot. After it happened, Bom told me it was just a weird coincidence that someone wanted to murder Treat. He called me every so often for more information on David…I was so worried about Bom blackmailing me, getting me into trouble, I just gave him what he asked for. When he called today, I thought he wanted more info. Instead, he just offered me more cash and coke for helping him. I drove over to get it, then Joy freaked out and we came here—”
“You’re lucky,” I told Graydon. “After tonight, Bom wouldn’t have needed you anymore for information on David, and I think he was trying to make sure you never talked to the police.”
“What do you mean never talked—”
“She means he was going to kill you, stupid,” Jim snapped. “That cocaine he was going to give you? I watched him cut it with something. It was probably laced with enough PCP to fry every molecule in your brainpan. Smarten up, kid.”
“Oh, my god,” said Joy.
I heard sirens screaming—despite the disturbance to the neighbors. I glanced at Jim. “The police.”
Two hours later, things had calmed down again at “Leisure with Dignity.” The police had taken Kenny Darnell and Graydon Faas into custody. Thomas Gurt went with the cops to assist in pulling Bom Felloes out of his luxurious Sandcastle and depositing him behind bars (the metal kind). We all gave our statements and were told the detectives would follow up with us the next day.
Madame had come home by now, and she was sitting with Joy, David, and Alberta in the mansion’s great room, hearing the tale of Kenny’s capture from beginning to end. Everyone was agitated and upset and would likely be up half the night.
Jim Rand hadn’t said much during the hours the police were here. Now that they’d gone, he stepped through the back door of the mansion, onto the cedar deck. I followed him outside.
“Jim? Are you okay?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, shook his head. “The DA will want the big fish. If Graydon and Kenny testify against Bom, their sentences will be plead out to relatively minor time, and that’s better than that son of a bitch partner of mine deserves.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” He turned to look at me. “Wow, Clare. That’s disappointing.”
I blinked. “Disappointing?”
“Hell yeah.” A slow smile spread across his rugged face. “And here I thought you’d be grateful.”
Epilogue
“You know, I’m going to miss the way you smell,” said Jim, nibbling my ear.
“How do I smell?” I asked.
“I never told you?”
“No.”
“Like freshly roasted coffee.”
“Oh, that’s a surprise, I mean, given the hours I spend in the Village Blend roasting room. But that’s just one of the perks of my job.”
“Clare, that is so bad.”
Jim Rand had his arms wrapped around me. We were happily naked, in the double bed of his yacht’s cabin. He’d finally made enough money by the end of summer to have bought his own.
It was early September. The summer season was officially over, and I’d already moved back to the city. But Jim had convinced me to drive out from Manhattan to enjoy one more Hamptons sunset with him—and sunrise too.
We had seen many sunrises together since Treat’s murder was solved. After the wave of publicity had passed and things had calmed down, Jim had shown up late one night at Cuppa J. He’d ordered an espresso to go, then asked me to go with it. I did, deciding at last to have a summer fling of my very own.
But the summer was over now.
“You know what I never got about that whole Mintzer thing?” Jim said. “What was the deal with your wanting all these close-ups of Marjorie Bright lurking around the man’s mansion on July Fourth?”
“David’s trees,” I informed him, tracing the outline on his SEAL tattoo. “They partially blocked her view of the ocean. In my opinion, she was smoking like crazy, trying to burn them down with one of her butts. Probably figured David would think a stray spark from one of the fireworks caused it.”
“How neighborly.”
“Well, as it turned out, your recon photos helped resolve that little war.”
“How’s that?”
“David’s lawyer showed shots of Marjorie lurking around David’s property to Marjorie’s lawyer. He threatened to charge her with trespassing and attempted arson. So she pulled back her lawsuits against David and his trees. And in return David agreed to trim the tops and sides of the things.”
“What’s wrong with looking at trees?” Jim asked. “Trees are good, aren’t they? They attract birds…when they’re not migrating.”
I sighed. “That’s what you’re going to do, isn’t it? Migrate? I mean, now that the celebrity shooting season is officially over, you’re heading south for the winter just like the birds, right?”
Jim caressed my shoulder, kissed the nape of my neck. “I’d ask you to come with me, but I know you won’t.”
I laughed. “You won’t ask me to go with you because you’re worried I might. You’re just like my ex.”
Jim didn’t hesitate. “Come with me.”
“Can’t. I have a life in New York. But you can send me a postcard from paradise.”
“Maybe you’ll visit? I’m going to miss your coffee, you know?” He nuzzled my hair.
“Well, you know where to get a good cuppa,” I reminded him. “Manhattan is a port city, too.”
“Okay, that’s a deal. Just remember one thing, okay?”
“What?”
“I’m guessing solving murders is a bad little habit you’re not going to give up anytime soon. So if you get into trouble—”
“Just whistle?”
“No.” He sat up, reached for his jeans on the back of a nearby chair. After fishing in a pocket, he pulled out his card, pressed it into my palm. “Use the cell phone.”
I laughed. Frankly, I didn’t know what good a cell phone call would be to a man one thousand miles away, but I tucked the card into my wallet anyway, like a souvenir. On some gray winter day, I’d probably pull it out by accident and suddenly remember the time I’d spent on this desirable bit of acreage, this irresistible little plot someone like me could visit but never own.
I smiled at Jim, snuggled under the covers, and pulled his arms back around me. What was owning anyway? I found myself wondering. You couldn’t own a person. You couldn’t even own land, really. The Earth itself was just a rental. Our time on it was basically one big share. I thought of Bom and David, Kenny and Jim, Marjorie and her ocean view, even myself and Matt.
“Why so quiet all of sudden? What are you thinking?” Jim’s voice sounded tense.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just wondering if the quality of our lives doesn’t simply boil down to whether or not we can all get along in the same house.”
“Excuse me?”
“Forget it,” I told him. “Explaining would take too long. And we only have a few more hours until sunrise.”
After a pause, Jim whispered, “Clare…”
“Yes?”
“Now that I’m leaving…are you sorry? Sorry we got together?”
There was defensiveness in his tone, as if he expected me to turn on him now. As if he’d gone through some ugly good-bye scenes with women in the past, and he expected the same from me.
He wasn’t going to get it.
There comes an age in life when you realize that blaming and regretting are a waste of precious time. Some thrills were worth weathering the inevitable crash. And in the end, as Madame and Joy had tried to tell me all season long, a summer fling didn’t have to be a crime.
“No, Jim, I’m not sorry,” I said. “After what we’ve both been through, don’t you think the time we have, whether long or short, is something we should just make the most of?”