Bound for the Outer Banks (12 page)

Chapter 13

Lacey Montauk pulled her Jeep off the edge of the road next to the cemetery. She thought to herself the inhabitants of the cemetery wouldn’t really mind. She walked up the steps that led to the hum drum cottage Ella now called home. Having grown up in Manteo, Lacey knew the occupants of almost every house on Cemetery Road. After visiting her mother on Wingina Street and cutting across Cemetery Road, Lacey had driven past the house and noticed Ella’s aqua roadster parked on the walkway at the bottom of the steps of the cottage.

Lacey had thought a lot about Belle after meeting her a few days before. She knew that Belle was probably busy writing her articles for fashion magazines, but she figured everyone could use a little fun and since writing was such a solitary occupation, Lacey figured Belle would enjoy some company.

She stepped up to the screen door. Somehow she’d never really noticed the beautiful pattern on the door from the street. The bottom half of the door was divided into two oval cut outs topped with a bar of heavily lathed spandrels across the middle. The top portion of the door was a large square cut out with curved spandrels softening the edges of the corners. Lacey couldn’t help but think that the house had good lines but just needed a little TLC.

As Ella stirred the onions and bell pepper around the pan with her rubber spatula, careful not to scratch the non-stick surface, she heard a knock on the door. Her heart began to race. She knew being sent to her mother’s hometown couldn’t have been a coincidence. Thoughts of someone in The Bureau being paid off by Dante or a member of his clan raced through her mind. She held up the spatula. Rubber wouldn’t even conduct heat so she couldn’t try to burn whomever was at the door. Why had she trusted The Bureau to keep her safe and not bothered to take steps to protect herself?

“Yoo-hoo! Belle?” Lacey was calling from the front door in a soprano descant. Ella exhaled, her head swimming from having held her breath for so long.

“Just a sec!” Ella turned off the eye of the stove and trotted to the front door. She was actually excited to have a visitor, and she had especially liked Lacey when she met her a few nights before.

When the door opened Lacey gave a little wave. “Hey, I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. I’m just cooking lunch.” Ella was still wielding the rubber spatula which had small pieces of bell pepper and onion stuck to it.

“I was hoping you weren’t busy writing,” Lacey apologized.

All Ella could think was that there really was no chance of that happening but then she quickly responded, “I usually write late at night.”

“Oh good! Then you have no excuses. I haven’t seen the sun all summer since that’s the busiest time of the year for Hottie’s and I am Lilly white. I was wondering if you’d like to go to the beach this afternoon.”

Ella stared at Lacey wondering if she’d missed something, “Hottie’s?”

Lacey beamed, “Hottie’s is my business. I own an air conditioner sales and repair business. The white vans with the red flames painted on the side with the scantily clad girl wearing a tool belt? Those are mine?”

Ella stared at Lacey blankly.

“O.K. you haven’t seen them yet but you will. I have two vans and two very pretty female employees who are pretty mean mechanics.”

Ella said, “Oh my goodness speaking of Hottie’s you must be hot.” She stepped to the side. “Please do come in.”

Lacey stepped inside the cool house, noticing the sparse furnishings but liking the bright colors.

Ella spoke again, “You know that is pretty cool that you own an air conditioner business.”

“No, it’s pretty hot,” corrected Lacey. “Hottie’s, don’t forget. For all your air conditioning needs,” Lacey mused. She pointed to Ella and took a step back. “I’ll be here to get you at two o’clock.”

“O.K.,” Ella agreed, not remembering having accepted Lacey’s invitation. She did want to go though. She’d had enough of treading water the last eighteen months, killing time before the trial. She knew how precious time was, having been cheated out of so much time with her parents whom she had loved so dearly. Ella decided that this waiting game was not going to cripple her social life anymore and she thought again that she might be hiding out alone but she didn’t have to be lonely.

Ella finished sautéing the bell pepper and onion. She then rubbed the skillet with the end of a stick of butter, plopped down a wheat tortilla and sprinkled half with grated cheese. She then added some of the peppers and onions and flipped the other half of the tortilla on top of the gooey cheese mixture. After scarfing down the quesadilla with a lime flavored diet soda, she realized she didn’t own a swimsuit. Thus far in her safe house odyssey around the country she hadn’t been placed in a coastal town and hadn’t really missed having a “bathing suit” as BeBe called it.

Ella rifled through Old Finnegan and found a small box of tampons. She held one end of the wrapper and allowed a tampon to fall out the other open end. She pressed the applicator plunger up and a roll of twenty dollar bills poked through the top end of the applicator. Ella peeled the corner of one of the bills from around the tight roll of money. She had to safeguard what little money The Bureau gave to her each month and considering she never had access to a bank account, the tampon applicator piggy bank was the best thing she could come up with. She figured most burglars were male and they would probably avoid a box of tampons like the plague. So far she’d never been short any money.

Ella hopped on her bike and prayed for a really good end of summer sale in one of the shops. She pedaled past restaurants, art galleries, the art deco movie theater, a bakery, and then she saw it, a small one story, painted, cinder block building down Sir Walter Raleigh Street. The banner which was stretched across the old five and dime sign etched in the building read Déjà vu. Yes! Thought Ella, I have hit the luck bucket! One of the best consignment stores in Biloxi was named Déjà vu. Ella was amazed at what one could purchase there for pennies on the dollar. She figured wealthy women got a little carried away on the slots and sold their expensive clothes and handbags for another round with the one armed bandits.

Ella pulled her bike next to the curb and pushed the kickstand down. She quickly threaded the cable through the tire and around a street light and clicked the lock together. She pulled open the door to Déjà vu and heard an electronic ding dong as she stepped over the threshold. A very well dressed lady with high cheekbones and dark black hair smiled at Ella. “Hi, our summer clearance clothes are in the back. Everything with a green tag is half off today, and if you want more space in your closet we’re accepting fall and winter clothes for consignment.”

“Thank you,” Ella muttered, somewhat ashamed that her closet was empty because she now owned less than twenty pieces of clothing, including underwear. She’d lightened her load considerably after Old Finnegan had popped open when she was biking to her safe house in Salt Lake City and two teenage Mormon boys had seen her cheetah print panties and neon thongs splayed out in the debris field of Ella’s possessions.

Ella went straight to the back of the store hoping to find a fairly decent swimsuit without too many pulls or too much pilling on the butt, a common problem with used suits. At the end of the rack hung a bikini representative of the Confederate flag. The triangle bikini top was red with large X’s across the breasts formed by the stars and bars. The tiny swimsuit bottom featured an X also.

“Uh oh,” said Ella under her breath. She had no beef with the Confederate flag but she was in no position to call unwanted attention to herself, especially with X marking the spot of the three vital landmarks on the front of her torso. She thumbed through the swimsuit rack flipping past a Speedo one piece, a silver sequined bikini, and a one piece with a skirt on the bottom. The next suit was a two piece with a funky turquoise and gold geometric pattern. Ella poked her thumb between the waist band and fished out the tag – TRINA TURK – SIZE 4 - $30.

Damn it, thought Ella. Wait! It had a green tag! Yes! Half off! BeBe would have said Ella was happier than a dead pig in sunshine. Once Ella had made the mistake of asking BeBe where she got that saying and BeBe explained that when a pig would die and the sun dried out its skin, the pig’s lips would get pulled back making it look like it was grinning. Ella was sorry she’d asked, but she was indeed feeling pretty fortunate. She paid the pretty lady, who clearly was of Native American descent, and she biked back home.

At exactly two o’clock Lacey knocked on the door. Ella grabbed one of the generic white towels from the bathroom and slid on a pair of sandals. She was wearing her large Hard Rock Hotel T-shirt over her Déjà vu, new to you, Trina Turk swimsuit.

“Better bring an elastic for your hair.” Lacey motioned to her red Jeep Wrangler in the driveway that had no top and no doors. “I’m going to get you acquainted with The Outer Banks up close and personal.”

Ella smiled and quipped, “Let’s do this.” She took the band off her wrist that she kept for times like this and quickly put her hair in a ponytail.

“Thatta girl!” howled Lacey. They both got into their seats and immediately buckled in.

Lacey looked over at Ella and said, “I took the doors off because my business logo is on them and I wasn’t sure how you’d feel riding around with a Jeep labeled Hottie’s.”

Ella gave Lacey a panicked look and said, “Good move.”

Lacey popped the Jeep in first gear and they were off. After taking the bridge east off Roanoke Island, the ladies turned north at Whalebone Junction. Lacey handed a small CD case to Ella. Ella picked the CD with BEACH MIX #1 scrawled in blue sharpie. The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” began to play loudly through the speakers. Ella enjoyed the view of the beach houses, tackle shops, surf shops, and all the historic places they passed along the way, including the Wright Brothers’ National Monument in Kill Devil Hills.

After driving through Nags Head, Kitty Hawk, and Southern Shores, the landscape became almost void of any civilization. There were only dunes as far as the eye could see. Finally an hour after leaving Manteo, Ella saw a small green sign which read Corolla.

Lacey pulled the Jeep off the road and parked in one of the few spaces of cracked asphalt. Jumping out of the driver’s seat, Lacey reached over the tailgate and handed Ella a neon green sand chair with a fabric strap. She then took a Hawaiian print, pink floral sand chair for herself, and a soft, silver, fabric cooler, and slung it over her shoulder.

“Refreshments,” Lacey said, raising her eyebrows as she eyed the cooler.

“Nice!” Ella exclaimed. “Looks like you thought of everything and I thought of nothing but this beach towel.”

“Don’t worry,” Lacey said. “You’ll be in a beach frame of mind before too long.”

Ella smiled and thought that would be an excellent frame of mind to be in, worrying about nothing, especially a member of the Unita Sacra Corona trying to snuff her before she could testify.

The girls made their way down the path between the dunes. A white sand crab ran across the path in front of Ella and she squealed.

Lacey explained, “It’s just a little sand crab. They’re harmless. Now the blue crabs in the water might grab a toe or two.”

Ella chuckled. She loved Lacey’s sense of humor. Lacey reminded her of a young BeBe.

After placing their sand chairs a few feet from the surf, Lacey unzipped the cooler and took out little miniature bottles of white zinfandel. She sat the bottles on her lap and removed two pieces of a plastic wine glass. She snapped on the base and poured the wine into the clear, disposable wine glass. Passing the white zinfandel to Ella, Lacey made a toast, “To the newest resident of The Outer Banks!”