Clammed Up (18 page)

Dinner was quiet again that night. Mom, Livvie, Sonny, and I had a lot to discuss, but not in front of Page, and not while eating.

After we finished, I cleared the table while Livvie washed the dishes. I came up behind her at the sink and gave her a hug. “We need to talk.”

“I know. Sonny told me we’re closed again tomorrow. That’s the fifth day.”

While I’d stayed on the porch with Tony Poitras, Sonny had rushed in and told Livvie all his troubles. I longed for that. For someone to tell my troubles to who would always be on my side. For months now, that person had been Chris. I missed him in a way I felt physically.

“Jamie kissed me last night.”

“Julia!” Livvie turned from the sink and put her soapy arms around my neck. “That’s wonderful. It’s what we’ve been hoping for.”

“We?”

“Sonny and me, silly. And Mom. And Page. He’s perfect. And he’s loved you all his life.”

He has?
“But I like Chris,” I whispered.

Livvie turned back to the sink. “Chris comes with baggage,” she said barely audibly above the rush of water. “Besides, you’ve been having lunch with him all these months. Don’t you think if something were going to happen, it would have by now?”

Livvie gave Page a piece of leftover rhubarb coffee cake and parked her in front of the television. Then she and I joined Mom and Sonny on the front porch.

Mom looked up and saw the three of us looking serious. She put a hand to her chest and said, “Oh, no. What is it?”

I sat on the wicker ottoman at her knee, so I could look directly at her. Livvie and Sonny stood behind me. I realized as I proceeded through the story, talking first about the five closed days and the probability the bank would call the loan, that we’d made a mistake trying to shield my mother from the recent issues with the business. She was doing her best to keep up, but the effect of the murder and the fire was a lot to take in.

“But how can it be over before the season’s even begun?” she asked.

Red-faced, I explained about the business plan and the structure of our agreement with the bank.

“So the island and the business aren’t gone yet?”

“Technically, no.” I hadn’t even told them about the messages on my phone from Bob Ditzy. I noticed Mom focused on losing Morrow Island and the Snowden Family Clambake. She hadn’t said a word about her own house.

“What could save us?”

“If we’re closed tomorrow, which we’re certain to be, the bank will undoubtedly call the loan. I suppose if someone were arrested for the murder and the fire, then we’d be in a better position with the bank, because we could guarantee when we’d reopen. I’ve tried to explain to Bob Ditzy that if our revenues are higher than the plan I’ve given him, we can survive a few more closed days and still pay what we’ve agreed by the end of the summer. I’m not sure he’s heard me, and all this day-to-day uncertainty—not knowing when we’ll open again—isn’t helping.”

“So we can still save it, if someone’s arrested tomorrow?”

“Oh, Mom.” Tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t stand the hopeful tone in her voice. If I lost control and started crying, I thought we all would. I swallowed hard and continued. “I just had a conversation with Tony Poitras. He’s offered to buy the island for one and a half million dollars.” Behind me, I heard Sonny’s sharp intake of breath. The last figure he’d heard—from me—was six million.

“We’re not selling Morrow Island,” my mother said.

“Mom, I think you have to consider this deal. It would pay off our debt and save this house. After we sold the
Jacquie II
, you’d have some income to live on. It’s an opening offer. Maybe we can do better. And maybe we can’t. Tony knows if he waits, he can buy it from the bank. The alternative is that you’re penniless. No house. No income from the business or any other source. Just Social Security. That’s it. You haven’t set foot on Morrow Island since Dad got sick. I’m not sure how much you’ll miss the island, but I know you’ll miss this house.”

Mom gave her head a little shake. “I don’t understand. Wasn’t Tony the groom at that wedding for your friend?”

I could see her working hard to take all it in.

Livvie moved to the chair next to her and took her hand. “He is, Mom. But he also develops resorts on private islands.”

“I think you’d better tell me everything.”

I told her everything I knew about the night before the wedding and what had happened since. Livvie listened quietly while I explained that Ray Wilson was Tyler Halsey’s father and, at least according to Tony, Ray had told Sarah he planned to sue for visitation. Sarah was Livvie’s friend, but it appeared she hadn’t known any of it.

Sonny knew some things I didn’t. I’d forgotten he was a buddy with Jamie’s colleague, Officer Howland. Sonny told us the drug found in Ray’s system was Rophynol, or roofies, the date rape drug.

When we got to the day’s events, I paused, trying to collect myself. The best thing was just to say it. “Sonny and I think Jean-Jacques is back and staying at least part-time on Morrow Island.”

Mom’s eyes widened.

I explained about the cleaned-up playhouse and the room in Windsholme with the neatly folded clothing.

“But he wasn’t on the island today?”

“No. He knows the island better than the police do, but if he’d been there today, they would’ve found him.”

“And if we sell the island to this man Tony, he’ll build a resort on it?”

“Yes.”
Where is she going with this?

“Don’t you see? That can’t happen. If the island is no longer ours, if Etienne and Gabrielle no longer live there, how will Jean-Jacques find his way home to them again? We can’t lose the island as long as there’s any chance he will come back there.”

“Mom, I just told you that Jean-Jacques may be a murderer and an arsonist.”

“It doesn’t matter. Gabrielle can’t lose him again. She’s not a strong person, emotionally. It will kill her. Promise me, you’ll do whatever you can. Promise me you’ll try.”

We stayed up talking late into the night, reminiscing about life on Morrow Island. I won’t say it was like a wake exactly, because I think each of us, in our own way, held onto the faintest bit of hope. It was more like a conversation carried on at the bedside of a very ill patient. When they left, Sonny wrapped Page in a blanket and carried her out of the house fireman style. I laughed, but also felt a pang. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d been a baby in his arms.

I said good night to my mother, gave her a hug, then went to my office and read everything I could about Rophynol on the Web. I knew about date rape drugs. I came of age in the era of their use. But now that I knew what drug had been in Ray’s system, I needed to understand it in detail—how long it took to work, its impact on the user, and its side effects.

At sometime after 1:00, I went to bed, but not to sleep. I had a short list of things I could do in the morning. Even though I wasn’t sure if any of them would change things for the better, I felt they had to be done.

I left the house early, before Bob Ditzy could call. It was the fifth closed day for the clambake. The last hurrah. I didn’t have much time. I had two goals for the day. The first was to figure out who had killed Ray Wilson. If Binder made an arrest, at least I could guarantee the bank the clambake would be open, which would help to convince them not to call the loan. If Plan A failed, my fallback was to negotiate the best possible deal for the sale of Morrow Island to provide for my mother.

At the Halsey’s apartment, Sarah, Tyler, and her mother were crowded around the breakfast bar that served as the only eating surface.

“We need to talk,” I said to Sarah. “Let’s go out.”

I hustled her to Gus’s place, neither of us saying a word on the way. I was sure she could tell I was in no mood for chitchat. When we got inside, I put her in a booth and bought coffees.

“Tony told me Ray was threatening to sue you for visitation. Now, why don’t you tell me what really happened the night he was murdered.”

Sarah put her coffee cup down and stared at the tabletop. Her chin quivered and fat tears fell on its worn surface. There were deep circles under her eyes and she was even paler than usual. “Again, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that your business and family have been dragged into this, Julia. After all your father did to help me. And Livvie, who was my first girlfriend in Busman’s Harbor.”

Sarah broke down, cradled her head in her arms, and wept. I gave her some time to compose herself, handing her napkins from the dispenser on the table so she would wipe her eyes and blow her nose. I glanced around anxiously for Gus, having just been informed the day before about the “no crying at Gus’s” rule. Luckily, he was busy at the grill in the other room.

When Sarah pulled herself together, she spoke. “I was determined to keep Ray away from my son. I went to Crowley’s that night to convince him that Tyler couldn’t handle visitation—and neither could Ray. But I couldn’t talk to him, because he was drunk. Again.”

“I heard that Ray had been sober for a year.”

“It doesn’t matter. His behavior that night proved he shouldn’t be allowed to spend any time with Tyler.”

“And now he won’t have the chance.”

She broke down again.

I waited while she regained control. “But Crowley’s wasn’t the end of it that night, was it?”

“No. What I told you was true. Ray and I never actually got to talk at Crowley’s. It was noisy and crowded. He was dancing with the women from the wedding and obviously drinking. He and Michaela got into a huge argument. He was yelling, and so was she. Then the lights came up and it was closing time.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing. I went home.”

“But you didn’t stay there.” When she hesitated again, I reminded her, “Sarah, you said you’d do anything to help.”

When she still didn’t say anything, I got up from the booth and poured each of us another cup of coffee. By the time I sat back down, she seemed calmer, more determined to go on. I felt terrible about pushing her, but when it was all over, I had to know in my heart that I’d done everything I could to save the Snowden Family Clambake.

“Ray called me. Right after he got back to his hotel. He was furious and demanded we talk. He yelled and swore at me over the phone. I was scared to death he’d show up at my apartment, so I agreed to meet him.”

Ray called Sarah that night?
He certainly was busy with that cell phone, considering he was so drunk he couldn’t even do up his jacket zipper. Sometimes speed dial was a curse. “Where did you meet him?”

“I told him to meet me at Gleason’s Hardware downstairs from my apartment. The owners gave us a key in case there was any kind of a problem with the building. It was the only place I could think of. I felt safer knowing my mother was right upstairs. Ray showed up at the door to Gleason’s and I let him in. He was angry with me and wouldn’t stop shouting about how I’d deceived him and kept Tyler from him. How I’d ruined his life and was in the process of ruining Tyler’s.

“We stood in one of the aisles, screaming at one another. Then I looked around and started to get scared. The place was full of pitchforks, hammers, all kinds of potential weapons. What had I been thinking, inviting a drunk, crazy man in there?”

She looked at me, big-eyed while she thought about her own stupidity. I shrugged, trying to convey it was the kind of mistake anyone could make in those circumstances. But really, how often does a situation like that occur?

“I’d just started to panic when there was a knock at Gleason’s front door. At first we didn’t hear it because we were yelling, but then the person was just pounding the heck out of the door. Ray let her in. It was Michaela. She shouted at me, too, about this awful thing I’d done to Ray. But she also gave him the business. She said no one would trust him with a child if he were actively drinking. She told me he’d been sober for a year and his behavior wasn’t typical. She pleaded with me to let Ray have some kind of regular time with Tyler. She said missing out on Tyler’s childhood was the biggest regret of Ray’s life.”

Sarah looked at me as if to assess how I was reacting to all this. Honestly, I didn’t know what to think. I understood Sarah’s impulse to protect Tyler. And Ray’s desire to know his son. And Michaela’s loyalty to her friend. What a mess.

“Then Michaela started to cry, and Ray shut up. He told her he was okay and everything was going to be fine. And that was the last time I saw Ray. Honestly. He and Michaela walked out of Gleason’s into the night.”

“You told all this to the cops?”

“I swear.”

We sat silently for a moment, while I decided on my next step. What I wanted to say was what I absolutely believed, based on what everyone had told me about Ray’s behavior that night and on the Web research I’d done.

“I think you put Rophynol in Ray’s drink.” Sarah was the only one at Crowley’s who had anything to gain from Ray’s public bad behavior.

“What? Why on earth would I do that?” She blushed crimson, but I noticed she didn’t deny it.

“So the whole town would see Ray staggering like a drunk. I don’t think you meant to hurt him, at least not physically. I think the drug lowered Ray’s inhibitions so far that he lost his willpower and took a drink. And once someone with Ray’s poor impulse control took one drink, he was bound to take another. His health was fragile, compromised by years of drinking. I know you didn’t kill him, but if you’re the one who drugged him, tell Lieutenant Binder it was you. Get a lawyer and turn yourself in. Today.”

“I can’t.” Sarah wept. “What will happen to Tyler?”

What, indeed?
I thought about Sarah’s original deception, keeping Tyler’s existence secret from Ray, and all that had radiated out from it, including Ray’s death, Michaela and Tony’s canceled wedding, and the loss of our family’s business and Morrow Island. I wanted to get the issue of the Rophynol cleared up for the police so they could move on and arrest Ray’s real killer.

I knew Sarah to be a good person, but I believed she’d do anything to protect her child. I was sure she was the one who’d drugged Ray and set in motion the events, whatever they were, that led to his death. But I still didn’t know how he’d ended up hanging on Morrow Island.

“If you don’t tell Lieutenant Binder what you did, I’m going to.”

“Julia, please.”

“I’ll do anything to help you. I will. But you have to tell Binder the truth. Get a lawyer and admit what you did.”

Sarah sat in the booth, tears cascading down her cheeks. “I’ll think about it. Please, don’t go to Binder yet.”