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Authors: Kimberly G. Giarratano

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BOOK: Dead and Breakfast
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“Really?” Liam asked. “I thought you were going to say she was decked out head to toe in red or something like that.”

Pops laughed, almost mournfully. “Nah. That wasn’t her style. Not like Inez. She always wore bright colors.
She
liked to be the center of attention.”

This is good. He’s talking.
“But not, Abuela?”

“No. She was more modest. That’s probably why I liked her right away, because she wasn’t flashy.”

“Did other men ask her to dance?”

Pops lightly pounded the table. “You bet they did. But you think I’d let some other guy get to her first?” He shook his head. “Nope. We danced together the whole night. After that, we were inseparable.” He was grinning now.

“So where was Inez when all this happened? I mean, I’d imagine she’d want to protect her sister from these devilish sailors.”

Pops rolled his eyes. “It was us who needed protection from Inez. That girl . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Never mind.”

“Come on, Pops. We’re just talking.”

“I’m no dummy. I know you think I am.”

Liam was affronted. “I don’t think that.”

“You think I don’t hear you tell your friend Randall about the Breyer curse?”

Liam shrank back. He never meant for Pops to hear those remarks. Pops was a decent person. Sometimes, it took seeing Randall’s miserable grandfather to realize how lucky Liam had it growing up.

“Yeah, I know you, kid. I know you better than you know yourself.”

“I don’t think you’re a dummy. I think you’re a smart guy who is hiding something from me because you think I’m not old enough to handle it.”

Leo sighed. “There isn’t much to tell. Inez was volatile.”

“Still is,” Liam mumbled.

“Are we going to start with the ghost nonsense?” Pops took a long sip from his beer and shook the can. Empty. “Get me another one, will ya?”

Liam reluctantly went to the fridge and removed a beer from the top shelf. He plunked it down in front of Pops and sat.

Pops pulled back the tab on the can. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get me to talk about Inez.”

“I just want to know about my grandpa in his youth. Is that a crime?”

Pops got up from the table. “No. But that’s not what you’re asking here.”

“I’m asking about a girl. A girl who was my great aunt, apparently, and who was killed.”

“We never knew that.” Pops wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “She went missing one night after a dance at St. Veronica’s. She picked fights with everyone that night. Me, your abuela. We assumed she took off. Mariana was worried, but I told her that Inez probably was necking with some guy on the beach to make Mick jealous.”

“I thought they were engaged.”

“They were.” Pops belched, but his eyes grew soft, almost moony.

“When was this?”

Pops took a sip of beer and Liam could hear him swallow the liquid. “You think I remember? It was fifty years ago.”

“Yeah, I’d think you remember when your sister-in-law disappeared and was never seen again.”

Pops hesitated a moment before answering, “Early April.” He cleared this throat. “Do you still wear my old dog tags?”

Liam lifted the chain from his shirt and dangled them in front of his grandfather. “I do.”

Pops’s words started to slur. “Maybe you should take them off when you’re working. Just to be safe.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

“Just cover your bases, that’s all.”

Liam rose from the table and clapped his grandfather on the shoulder. “Well, I would, but I’m not going back there for work anymore. Evelyn fired me.”

Pops patted Liam’s hand. “You can blame that on the Breyer curse.”

“No, Pops. This time, it was all me.” Liam leaned down and kissed his grandpa on his head. “I’m going out.”

“See ya, kid.”

Liam made his way to the front door, but he thought he heard his grandpa curse Inez under his breath.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

That same morning, Autumn stormed into Evelyn’s office. The sheer force of her entrance blew papers right off the desk.

Her mother frowned. “What’s gotten into you?”

Autumn tapped her sneaker impatiently. “You know exactly what’s gotten into me. You fired Liam!”

Evelyn softened her shoulders and shrugged. “I’m sorry, honey, but I really do think it was the best. He was a distraction to you, and . . .” her voice trailed.

“And what?” Autumn asked, her patience waning.

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem like a good influence. Plus, all those weird things happening as soon as he started working here. The chandelier. The pipes bursting. I mean, for God’s sake, he fell into the pool and cut himself. He was a liability if nothing else.” She sounded like she was practically laughing at the end. This only fueled Autumn’s anger.

“You can’t blame Liam for any of that,” Autumn said. “It was Inez’s fault, all of it. She has it out for him.”

Now Evelyn truly was laughing, until she caught the serious look on Autumn’s face. Evelyn cleared her throat and shuffled the papers on her desk. “I told you not to encourage your aunt about these ghost stories.”

“They’re not stories,” Autumn said.

“They’re not real!” Evelyn screeched. “Your father and I told you this in New Jersey. Ghosts aren’t real.”

Autumn balked. “Aunt Glenda is a believer. Timothy and Cora are believers. I’m a believer.”

“If they’re so real, why don’t they show themselves to me?”

“Because you’re not tuned into them. You don’t even try to be open to the fact that the Cayo’s haunted.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Evelyn sputtered. “Anyway, I doubt the dead come back to wish us harm.” She threw her pen on the desk and rubbed her eyes. “This place is messing with your head. You’re blaming a ghost in order to stand up for that boy.”

“That boy? He’s the reason I’m happy here.”

Evelyn’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “There will be other boys.”

“Mom, at some point, you have to let go of the bitterness.”

Evelyn opened her mouth to protest.

“Forget it,” said Autumn, turning to leave. “Forget everything.”

#

Liam shuffled down the dock to the
Benny Blue Eyes
, which gently rocked on the waves. He stopped short of climbing on board and cried, “Randall!”

Randall stuck his curly head out of the porthole. “Dude! Be right out.”

Randall didn’t invite Liam on board. Not that it mattered much. Liam didn’t care for Keith, and he figured the feeling was mutual. Of course, he wasn’t there on friendly terms.

Some merchandise was stolen from one of my warehouses. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?

Randall hopped off the boat and onto the dock.

“Walk with me,” said Liam.

Randall cocked his brow. “What’s up?”

The two set off down the dock and onto the wharf, which was quiet since most of the boats were out at sea.

“What’s going on?” asked Randall, his voice hot. “You’re freaking me out.”

Liam faced his friend. “I want my investment back. All twenty-five hundred.”

“What? You can’t.” Randall rubbed his eyes. “What the hell?”

Liam poked Randall in the chest. “I asked you if this was legit and you said totally. But guess what? Mick Canton is missing scooters from his warehouse. Tell me you didn’t know. Tell me this was your cousin’s doing and you didn’t deliberately get me involved in a crime!”

Randall looked like he had swallowed a bowling ball. “Dude, at first, Keith just told me that they were cast-offs bought at auction.”

“When did you find out?” Pressure built under Liam’s skin. He walked away from the water, fearful that he’d push Randall into the ocean at the slightest provocation. “When?”

Randall flinched. “Before you gave me the money.”

Liam grabbed Randall’s collar. “You were supposed to be my friend. And now you’ve put us both in danger.”

Randall peeled Liam’s fingers off his shirt and stepped back. “What are you talking about? Mick doesn’t know.”

“Are you an idiot?”

“The bikes are hidden. They’re going to be refinished and painted. Mick didn’t even file a police report.”

“You can’t know that,” said Liam through gritted teeth. “And Mick doesn’t need the police. He has eyes all over this island. This friendship you have with Victoria is going to blow up in your face. She’s using you.”

“You’re jealous!”

Liam hardened his eyes. “No, man. I wised up. I want out and I want my money back.”

Randall shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen. Keith used it to pay off the guys.”

Liam pointed at his friend. “Mick’s going to come after us.”

Randall sputtered, “You’re just trying to scare me.”

Liam stared out at the vast water before him. “You should be scared.”

#

Autumn stumbled on the rocky walkway that led to the fence in front of Mr. Blazevig’s turquoise bungalow. Mr. Blazevig lived on a side street, at the south end of the island, in Mid Town. Locals called this area
the country
because the homes sat on larger lots and there were no sidewalks, just gravel that butted up against the property line.

Autumn had just finished reading Liam’s text message about Inez going missing in April. She gently rapped on Mr. Blazevig’s front door, careful not to crack one of the many panes of glass. The porch sconce was still lit, odd for the late afternoon. A broom leaned against a wobbly railing and the concrete had been swept. Apparently, the old man kept the outside as tidy as his family’s graves.

Ralph Blazevig barely opened the front door, although Autumn could see he was dressed in loose-fitting brown pants and an old white undershirt. He hid behind the door and put out his hand as a way of stopping Autumn from entering the foyer. Odd. She had never been to his house, but usually people of his generation welcomed guests into their home.

“You got my text,” Mr. Blazevig whispered.

“Are you okay?” Autumn tried to see around his head inside his house. What if he was the victim of a home invasion, the perpetrator holding a weapon to his back and forcing him to pretend everything was okay? Was Mr. Blazevig giving her some kind of coded signal?

Mr. Blazevig, sensing her unease, came outside and shut the door behind him. He stood hunched over, and when Autumn glanced down, she saw that holes riddled the man’s socks. Autumn peered around him and through the glass door. She caught sight of faded yellow paint and floral couches with afghans draped over the cushions. A cat curled up on the loveseat.

Mr. Blazevig coughed into his fist. “Would you be willing to pass out tour brochures on Duval later today? I want to take advantage of the last day of Fantasy Fest before the island clears out. I usually do it myself, but I’m not feeling well.”

Autumn met his eyes. Dark circles sat underneath. “Of course. Maybe, you should go to the doctor.”

The old man hugged himself. “Psssh. It’s only a cold. I’ll be all right.”

“Okay,” she said, unsure. Maybe she’d ask Cora to mix up one of her herbal tea remedies. She could bring it by later.

“Wait here and I’ll get the brochures.” He shuffled inside his house and again closed the door on her.

Autumn waited until the old man retreated farther away, probably to his bedroom, and pressed her face against the glass panes.

This is ridiculous.
It’s so muggy outside.
Autumn opened the front door and stepped inside. If the old man was embarrassed about his housekeeping, he shouldn’t be. After all, she had to clean up after strangers at the Cayo.

She stood in the foyer, soaking up the colorful art on the walls, including a painting resembling a Chagall, the stacks of paperbacks in the corner of the room, the teacups and saucers that littered the coffee table, and the old black-and-white photographs lined up on the bookshelves. One appeared to be a wedding photo of Mr. Blazevig and his wife. Next to that, was a framed photograph of a little boy, and next to that was a photo of Ralph Blazevig in overalls smiling next to a little blonde girl.

Mr. Blazevig emerged from the far corner of the house carrying a stack of brochures. He stopped short at the sight of Autumn.

“It’s too hot to stand outside,” she explained.

“Of course. Where are my manners? Sorry. I just didn’t clean today.” He thrust the papers into her arms and pushed her toward the door. “Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry to leave you all alone tonight.”

Autumn cemented her stance. She picked up the photograph of Mr. Blazevig and the blonde girl. “Is this your sister? You sort of look alike.”

Mr. Blazevig smiled sadly. “Yes. That was taken several years before we arrived in the Keys.”

“You came together?”

He took the frame from Autumn and traced his finger over the picture. “Our parents died when we were little and we grew up with my aunt, who was deaf, and she couldn’t really look after us. So when I enlisted and was stationed here in Key West, I enrolled her at St. Veronica’s so she could be nearby.”

“Oh! Liam’s grandmother went there too.”

Mr. Blazevig smiled, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “So she did. Except she was a few years ahead, I think.”

“Speaking of the Cruces girls, how come you lied to me when I asked you about Inez?”

Mr. Blazevig’s cheeks reddened, but Autumn wasn’t sure if he was flushed with fever or embarrassment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more forthcoming. It’s just she wasn’t a nice girl, and I didn’t want to speak ill.”

“Why wasn’t she nice?”

“Inez was a bully. Mariana was sweet, but Inez liked to, she liked to—”

“She liked to what?”

“She liked to hurt people,” he said. “She made enemies quick.”

“How do you mean?”

Mr. Blazevig took a cloth hankie from his pocket to wipe sweat off his face. “She’d say the most vile things to your aunt and uncle. Calling Duncan . . .” He stopped. “Insinuating he was—”

“Gay?” Autumn finished.

“It’s not like nowadays,” he said softly. “Being homosexual then was . . . well, he could’ve been dishonorably discharged from the navy had anyone found out.”

Autumn couldn’t believe she was about to ask this question. “Could Uncle Duncan have hurt Inez to hide his secret?”

BOOK: Dead and Breakfast
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ads

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