1 Lowcountry Boil (22 page)

TWENTY-NINE

I had another stop to make while on the peninsula. Colleen listened to the end of
Man in the Mirror
then faded out. I parked in the Cumberland Street garage and strode down Meeting Street. The Charleston County Courthouse is a Georgian white-brick-and-stucco edifice built before the Revolutionary War as the South Carolina Statehouse. The Declaration of Independence was read from a balcony overlooking Meeting Street. In the late 1700’s when the state’s capitol was moved to Columbia, the building was converted to a courthouse. Through Herculean preservation efforts, it has survived fires, hurricanes, and earthquakes to preside over the heart of downtown Charleston.

I popped in the Meeting Street entrance and made my way to room 143, the Family Court Clerk’s office. With the case number in hand, I didn’t have to scroll through rolls of microfilm to locate the file I needed. I gave the case number to the twenty-something clerk with an educated manner that raised my suspicion she was overqualified for her job. Who knows what she suspected about me? My drab, meter-reader ensemble is not my best look. Five minutes later, she handed me a tape with instructions on how to print the pages I needed. I thanked her and hurried over to the film reader. I resisted the urge to read while I pulled up each page and pressed print. I paid my fifty cents per page and took the copied file back to the car.

I lowered the windows, then scanned through the wherefores and whereases until I found what I was looking for. The dirt. The divorce itself was a no-fault divorce, based on a year’s separation. More interesting were the reasons enumerated by William Alexander James Knox as to why Mildred should receive none of his considerable assets.

Mr. Knox alleged that Mildred had entered into the marriage in a fraudulent manner, not informing him of her past employment as an exotic dancer at The Pussycat Gentlemen’s Club in Myrtle Beach. Her stage name was Miller Dawn. Additionally, Mr. Knox made note of Mildred’s extramarital affair with one Lincoln Sullivan.

Holy shit. Mildred the Moral, the Stella Maris authority on social decorum, had been a
stripper
? If the file had said Mildred was from the constellation Draco, I could not have been more shocked. I laid the file on the passenger seat, exited the parking garage and drove back to the ferry, pondering Mildred and her colorful background.

Everyone has secrets. Most people have reinvented themselves a time or three. And I’m a firm believer in leaving skeletons in their closets. Unless those skeletons bear directly on my case. I didn’t know yet if Mildred’s dancing days were relevant or not.

But here’s what I did know: Mildred’s past had the potential to embarrass the mayor. Mackie’s gambling had the potential to embarrass—and financially harm—the Sullivan family, including Grace. Any number of things in Marci’s past or present might embarrass Michael. John Glendawn’s past with Hayden Causby and Stuart Devlin was common knowledge, but there was still plenty I didn’t know about what happened back then. The common denominator for the names in column B on Gram’s list seemed to be that they made a council member vulnerable. Had Gram suspected someone of attempting to blackmail council members?

Had someone tried to blackmail her?

THIRTY

I went back to Gram’s to change. Mamma would’ve given me the always-dress-like-a-lady lecture for sure if she’d gotten a look at my frumpy work clothes. Besides, I needed to unload Adam and Deanna’s garbage from the back of the Escape. Typically, for a garbage grab to net me anything, I had to lift it for several weeks. Taking Adam and Deanna’s that morning had been an impulse, and I wasn’t expecting much. But you never know.

Several tarps lay folded neatly on wire shelves in the corner of the garage. I spread one of them over the workbench. Then I pulled on a pair of latex gloves and a dust mask and went to work. One by one, I sifted through the Devlin household trash bags. I detest this part of my job. That afternoon, I missed Nate something fierce. More often than not in Greenville, he’d taken pity on me and done the garbage sorting.

Of course, Adam was a shredder—or maybe it was Deanna. Either way, coffee grounds, shredded documents, and tissues were the biggest volume items in the bags. There were two empty prescription bottles, an antibiotic for Holly and Xanax for Deanna. That explained how she coped, anyway. The only other pharmaceuticals were an empty blister pack of antacid and an almost-full bottle of something called “Ephed-Dream,” which promised to make you very thin very quickly. According to the label, the primary ingredient was Ephedra extract. Wasn’t that stuff illegal? Deanna had always been obsessed with her weight. I hoped she wasn’t taking this stuff along with Xanax.

I tossed everything except the empty Xanax bottle and the Ephedra. Those, I placed in a plastic bag. Then, I cleaned up my mess and went upstairs.

I needed a bubble bath.

I started the water running and lit a few stress-relief candles. I poured in lavender bubble bath and some
Lancôme
Aroma Calm bath oil. Then I threw in a fizz ball. The more products you put in the tub, the better. After digging through all that trash, I considered pouring in some Clorox. I sank into the water and closed my eyes. I rested my head on a bath pillow and let my arms and legs float.

The doorbell was ringing when I stepped out of the tub. I pulled on my robe and peered out of the second-story window. In the driveway was an unfamiliar Jeep Cherokee. I tensed. It couldn’t be Nate. He hadn’t even left Chicago yet. Surely when Scott told Adam he’d handle me, he hadn’t meant he’d send someone on over to kill me.

The doorbell rang again, three times in rapid succession. I reached for the phone.

Then, Michael stepped off the front porch and looked up at my bedroom window. I waited about a nanosecond. I fumbled with the plantation shutter, the curtain, and the window. He waited patiently, hands on hips, while I raised the sash.

“Let me in,” he said.

I was safe up in my perch, and unsure what waited downstairs. I hesitated.

“Liz.” Even from that distance, I could read that look. It matched the yearning in the pit of my stomach. Oh, God, how I wanted him. How long I had wanted him. But…surely he didn’t think he could crook his little finger and I’d come running just because he’d suddenly discovered what I’d figured out when I was six years old—that Marci was not to be trusted.

I wrestled with the urge to run down the stairs and fling myself into his arms. “What do you want?”

“I saw Robert Pearson this afternoon.”

I waited.

“Can I please come in?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine. We can do this your way. As soon as Robert can get me out of this mess, you and I are getting married.”

“Is that a fact?” I felt lightheaded, but somehow it wasn’t with a pure joy.

“Yes. The last time I let you decide something, everything went straight to hell.”

He had me there. But there were things I needed to know. “Why did you stay married to her?”

“For stupid reasons. The problem, for both of us, is that Marci doesn’t make enough money as a bank teller to support herself. She has no immediate family and no close friends. I couldn’t bring myself to set her out by the curb, but I didn’t want to give her the house I built myself and half of my business, either. Those reasons have recently become less compelling.”

I persisted. “But why are you here
now
?” As much as I wanted him, I didn’t want him only because she’d cheated.

His shoulders rose and fell. He looked down, then up at me, a pleading look in his eyes. “Ever since I saw you at your grandmother’s funeral, I’ve been fighting the urge to kidnap you and run away. When you stayed in Greenville, I figured you’d made your choice. Even if you didn’t want Scott, you still didn’t want me.”

“But—”

“Let me get this out.”

I gestured for him to continue.

“I know you didn’t come back home because of me. But I looked in your eyes Tuesday night and knew that you still felt something for me. I came here to find out what.”

“But why this afternoon? Why not yesterday or tomorrow?”

He hesitated. “This is not why. This is not about
her
. It’s about us, okay?”

I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head.

“She’s been having an affair with Adam for the last year.”

I pressed my hand to my throat and tried hard to look shocked. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I found his wallet under my bed this morning.”

“I see. And you ran straight over here, did you? Tell me something, Michael. Where would you be right now if you hadn’t discovered your brother’s wallet under your bed this morning?”

He had no answer ready for that.

The longer we talked, the happier I was I hadn’t let him in. Just who did he think he was dealing with, anyway? Did I look like a backup plan? Had he even confronted her yet? “Does she know you know?”

“No. I just left. I found the wallet, packed a bag, and left before she woke up.”

“What did you do with the wallet?”

“I gave it back to Adam.”

“I’ll bet you did. Did Adam admit the affair?” Of course, I already knew the answer, but I was trying to get him to tell me as much of what I already knew as possible. That would simplify things.

“Yeah. But, like I told Robert, I don’t want to drag this out in court. I don’t want my mother embarrassed by a scandal. I just want to use it to bargain with Marci.”

“I see.” I knew, and he should have, that there would be no bargaining with Marci the Schemer. “She’ll get an attorney. If you can’t prove adultery, I’m not sure how much bargaining power you’ve got.”

“That’s what Robert said. He wants me to get proof.”

“How do I know you’re not here just because she pissed you off?”

“Liz, I’ve never loved anyone but you. I’ve lived a lie so long I’d begun to believe that’s all I could hope for. But then you came home. If she hadn’t cheated, I still would have left. Maybe not today. But make no mistake, this—us—is inevitable. Marry me, Liz. I’m lost without you.”

I smiled a teary smile. “Come back and see me when you have that divorce. We’ll talk then.” I slammed the window shut.

“Liz, wait,” he shouted.

I closed the plantation shutters.

“Liz!”

I crawled onto my bed and propped against the headboard. I pulled a pillow to my chest and cried.

THIRTY-ONE

The combination of not nearly enough sleep, repeated adrenaline rushes, and emotional drama caught up with me. Somehow, I dozed off. I woke with a start and glanced at the clock. Hell’s bells—it was after two in the afternoon. I hadn’t had lunch. I had work to do. My family would be worried about me. And I was missing The Most Fabulous Spring Bazaar Ever, which had commenced that morning, homicidal maniacs on the loose notwithstanding.

I’d no sooner gotten dressed than someone started hammering out
Chopsticks
on the doorbell. Of course, I just knew it was Blake, or possibly Michael again. I wasn’t expecting anyone else, least of all my ex-husband, holding a dozen yellow roses—my favorite. I stared at him through the peephole, hoping I was hallucinating.

“
Scott?”
I reacted and called through the door before thinking it through. Damn. I should have let him think I wasn’t home. I did not have time for this. I took a deep breath and opened it halfway.

“The one and only.” He shoved the roses in my direction and flashed me his best imitation of an appealing smile.

I crossed my arms and didn’t take the flowers. “What are you doing here?” I was relieved he had roses and not a gun.

“I miss you, kitten. I guess I didn’t realize how much. Lately, it just all seems so final.”

I drew my head back and studied him for a moment. Even if I hadn’t known what he was up to, I would never have fallen for that lie.

He took a step towards me. “I talked to Nate this morning. I had to pry it out of him where you’d gone. The next thing you know, I was headed down here.” His voice deepened to a husky drawl. “You sure are a sight for sore eyes. Come on, baby, let me come in. Can’t we just talk?”

Scott was a smooth liar. He had to come up with something to explain how he knew I was home. But he hadn’t thought that lie all the way through. No way Nate would have ever told Scott where to find me. Rhett materialized by my side. The low, warning growl indicated he remembered Scott well.

“Talk? About what?” I said.

He pressed the roses into my arms.

“This is insane.” Reluctantly, I took the flowers.

He grinned that cocksure grin of his.

I gave him my spare-me look. “Let me get something to put these in.” I opened the door far enough to admit him into the foyer. I didn’t want to arouse his suspicions by showing him I was afraid of him.

Rhett backed up but braced to pounce.

“Wait right here,” I admonished Scott.

Moments later when I returned from the kitchen, he was gone. “Scott?”

Rhett barked from the sunroom.

“In here,” Scott called. “I hope you don’t mind, I made myself comfortable.”

I hustled down the hall, thrashing myself for letting him in the door. What the hell was I thinking?

There he sat, on the sofa, looking up at me with his innocent look.

“I
do mind. You’re not staying that long. Look, I’m sorry you drove all this way, but we said everything we had to say months—no, years—ago. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he said. “When Nate told me you were staying down here indefinitely, it snapped me to my senses. As long as we were both in Greenville, the split didn’t feel permanent. But with you taking up residence here, I guess it’s sinking in. If we don’t patch things up now, we never will.”

“Scott—”

“Come back with me, Liz. Let’s start over. We’ll leave right now and
go someplace in the Caribbean. Then we’ll go home together. I’m not asking you to make a commitment now. We don’t have to get remarried until you’re sure. But just give me another chance.” As he was speaking, he’d stood and crossed the room, and now stood way too close.

My, my. Two marriage proposals in one afternoon. So this was his plan. Another female might have been swayed by the pleading look in his blue eyes. But I’d been inoculated.

Rhett’s barking became more urgent.

I backed away. “Scott, I am not going anywhere with you. You are going to leave now
,
do you understand?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll go. For now. I can see this has been a shock for you. I’ll call you later. Maybe we can have dinner.”

“No, we can’t.”

Something shifted in his eyes.

Alarmed I may have pushed him too far, I softened my tone. “Please go, Scott.”

“I’m not going back to Greenville without you.” He backed slowly down the hall, not taking his eyes off me. “I’ll be at the Stella Maris Hotel, waiting.”  

“It’s not going to change anything.” I followed him, resisting the urge to shove him out the door.

“Don’t say that, now.” He tried for charming, but I felt chilled. He stepped across the threshold to the porch. “You come see me when you change your mind. Anytime now, you hear?”