The Sweetest Summer: A Bayberry Island Novel

  “Goddamm. You wiped me the hell out, Miss McGuinness.”

  Clancy’s cell phone rang, and he staggered like an old man as he tried to locate his shorts. He dug the phone out of a pocket and answered. It was a short conversation. Clancy crawled back into bed

  “You have to go into work?”

  “Nope. It was Rowan.”

  Evelyn sat up. “Uh-oh.”

  “It’s all good.” Clancy touched her arm. “She said not to bother coming back until the clambake. Turns out Jellybean is the belle of the ball over there. She wants to take a nap on the porch hammock, and Annie wants to adopt her.”

  Evelyn sighed with relief. She’d assumed the call meant their moment of romance had been just that—a moment. She lay back down, relaxed into his body, and enjoyed the feel of the fan cooling them.

  “Your family is going to figure it out, Clancy.”

  “Probably. But she’s completely safe with them.”

  Evelyn surrendered to the need to close her eyes. Her mind wandered back to that faraway summer. “The sweetest summer of my life.”

  “Mine, too.”

  That’s when Evelyn realized she had said that out loud. She blinked her eyes at Clancy. She had to know. “Do you remember what we said to each other?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Today or when we were fourteen?”

  “Back then.”

  “Sure. I said I loved you.”

  “And I said I loved you, too. Do you think it was really possible?”

  They were still, the sound of the ocean rushing beyond the deck, seabirds crying, their hearts beating—and the dogs breathing.

  “Kind of ruins the moment.”

  Evelyn laughed. “I don’t mind. This is life. Life is pretty strange sometimes.”

  “You got that right.” Clancy kissed her cheek stroked the side of her face. “I do think we could have been right all those years ago.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s still the same, Evie. For both of us.”

  * * *

  The warm night was made tolerable by a steady and gentle breeze along Haven Beach. Evie wore the mermaid getup again and complained that she was hot, but she really had no choice. Clancy looked forward to the day when she could simply be herself, and the world could know they were together.

  Christina had been pleased to see Evie when they returned to the Safe Haven in time for the clambake, but there was no indication she’d felt deserted by her. Jellybean chattered on about what she had done that day and how much she loved the mermaid’s castle. “She said I can come every day and every night if I want!”

  The dinner was fabulous, the way it always was at the clambake. The three of them ate at a small round table on the beach, and Christina snarfed down a mound of shrimp and two large ears of corn. Where she put it, he had no idea. Clancy’s family was especially sweet to Evie and were obviously smitten with her niece, but there was an underlying awkwardness in the evening. Especially with Mona.

  He suspected Evie had been right, and they had figured out what was going on. And though he had no doubt he could trust them, he anticipated a few questions as soon as they could get him alone.

  Clancy made sure that never happened. Evie stayed at his side all night, and both of them always had an eye on Jellybean. As they danced under the fairy lights, they talked about what a strange concept time was. Both of them agreed that it seemed time had folded in on itself, and the years in between their last clambake and this one had never even existed.

  The evening’s only permitted bonfire was under the watchful eye of Deon and a volunteer firefighter. Clancy gave his buddy a quick hello before he joined the girls around the fire. Since it was getting late, Jellybean crawled into his lap and fell asleep, while Evie sat tucked close to his side.

  Yeah, he knew Deon was staring at him, and Clancy knew he would have five hundred questions for him the first time he got him alone, and the first one would be “Who the hell was that woman you were with last night at the bonfire?”

  He wasn’t sure how he would answer him.

  They decided it was time to get Christina to bed, and headed up the beach. As they began to climb the Safe Haven’s private steps, Rowan and Ash stopped them. Jellybean was flopped over Clancy’s shoulder, sound asleep. It felt like she might even be drooling on the back of his shirt.

  “You know, she’s welcome to stay here tonight.” Rowan’s voice was kind. Evie thanked her, but took a rain check. When they returned home, Evie got Christina settled and immediately retreated to the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later wrapped in nothing but a towel. She grabbed a T-shirt out of Clancy’s dresser and crawled into his bed.

  Some men might get freaked out when a new girlfriend made herself at home like that. Not Clancy. He was thrilled. But then again, she wasn’t exactly a new girlfriend, was she?

  Evie fell asleep on his chest. He held her close, in awe that this already felt normal. He dozed off with a smile stuck on his face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Richard couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to show up unannounced at his suite, and at this ungodly hour of the morning. He hadn’t had his first cup of coffee or even a shower!

  “Just a moment.” He went to the bedroom to trade the comfort of the hotel robe for trousers and a polo shirt, grumbling to himself. Whoever this was had gotten through the front desk. His cardiologist? No. He was the last guy who would want to startle Richard first thing in the morning.

  Walt Henson, his lawyer? Possibly, but Walt always called first.

  Maybe it was the FBI again. Special Agent in Charge Teresa Apodaca and her buddies had become like family to him this last week. Hey, maybe he could order breakfast from room service for everyone! They could hold a news conference right here, with Richard in his robe! He could stand off to the side like a fool until it was his cue to say, “I remain hopeful.”

  Ha! Just more lies. He didn’t feel hopeful—he felt panicked. Because if they couldn’t find Christina, it meant he had just caused a stupefying amount of collateral damage to his life—campaign contributions, approval ratings, committee assignments, access to the Derricks’ deep-fried pockets, and even his shot at a VP nod.

  For nothing.

  If Richard were brutally honest with himself, he would have to admit that the only reason he was prepared to walk away from the life he had was because he had another life waiting—life as a father.

  If they never found Christiana, he would be left with no life at all.

  He would not let that happen.

  Now dressed, Richard arrived at the hotel suite door and put his eye to the peephole. Jesus!

  He opened the door for M.J. and immediately retreated to one of the sofas.

  “Got any coffee around here?”

  “No.”

  M.J. curled up on the couch opposite Richard. She stared at him. “Comfy.”

  Yes, it was. That’s why Richard liked the Jefferson: guaranteed discretion and seating that didn’t feel like steel girders shoved up his ass.

  “What can I do for you, Mary Jane?”

  “I’ve come to tell you a bedtime story.”

  “I just woke up.”

  “Well, you might spend the rest of the day in bed after you hear it.”

  Richard laughed softly. “My sincere apologies, but I have neither the patience nor the energy to deal with your passive-aggressive bullshit this morning.”

  M.J. swung her legs around and leaned forward. “You don’t even remember, do you?”

  “Remember what?”

  “Sunday morning. Right before you went on-air with Tamara. I told you there was something you really needed to know, and you told me it had to wait. Well, I don’t think it can wait any longer.”

  Richard leaned back into the sofa cu
shions. “Make it short.”

  She flashed a perfectly evil smile. “Sure. The title of this story is ‘Above and Beyond.’ It’s about a young girl named Amanda McGuinness and her adventures in the nation’s capital. It’s a cautionary tale, really. ”

  Richard lowered his chin and stared at M.J. as dread pressed down on him. “Go on.”

  M.J. tossed an envelope onto the coffee table. Richard knew it was her letter of resignation. “First, you need to understand the setting for this story. We were eyeballs deep in reelection strategy for your third term. You’d just been appointed chair of the oversight subcommittee. Your approval rating was off the charts. You’d already raised eight-point-five million from Super PACs alone. You were golden.”

  “What . . . did . . . you . . . do?” Richard sat up straight, his blood pressure mounting.

  She laughed. “I did what I’ve done for you for sixteen years: I cleaned up your mess.”

  “I’ll ask you one more time.” Richard crooked his arm and aimed his right pointer finger across the coffee table at her. “What did you do to Amanda?”

  M.J. rose from the sofa and hugged herself. She began pacing the room. “You are incredibly dense, Richard, more so than your average congressman. I found the girl cowering in the corner of the ladies’ room, sobbing because she was in love with you and had just found out she was pregnant with your baby. She was scared to death, trying to summon the courage to tell you, daring to hope that you’d leave Tamara for her the way you’d promised. She was a lost little kitten. So I made it simple for her.”

  Richard stood up, suddenly dizzy. His heart began to race and skip. “Dammit, M.J.! You knew about the baby? All these years? For Christ’s sake, why didn’t you tell me? And what did you do to that poor girl to make her run like she did?”

  M.J. looked disgusted with him. “I told her I’d take care of everything and she should just sit tight. I promised to be the go-between, and I would help her in any way I could.”

  “Where was I during this? Why didn’t I know what was going on?”

  She laughed. “You were in a caucus meeting all afternoon and then dined at Charlie Palmer’s with some of your generous friends from Mass Mutual, but the reason you didn’t see she was miserable was because the girl meant nothing to you unless she was naked in your favorite suite at the Jefferson.” M.J. looked around. “Oh, my! We’re in it right now!”

  “Enough.”

  “Let me finish!” Her eyes turned to dark, hard pebbles. It was obvious she didn’t plan to stop until she drew blood. “While you were enjoying your prime rib, I dropped by Amanda’s cheap little apartment. I brought her an envelope with six one-hundred-dollar bills and passed on your message: Get rid of the baby. I told her you didn’t love her and never would. And I broke the news to her that, no, you would not be leaving Tamara.”

  Richard felt his mouth fall open. It stayed open in complete horror.

  “And then I advised her that she needed to leave the city because being a congressional aide who was young, female, and pregnant could be hazardous to her health. I explained that women such as her had been known to disappear in this town.”

  “No. You didn’t.” Richard went numb. “M.J., please tell me you didn’t threaten her like that. Oh, Jesus.”

  “And that’s how I made sure that no one ever heard about the baby. I did it so we could continue with the plan, Richard. And look how far we’ve come—we are a stone’s throw from getting the VP spot and going to the White House. It’s what you promised me. Ring a bell?”

  He felt his knees weaken.

  “But you’ve gone and ruined everything, you son of a bitch!”

  It was beyond his control. Richard felt hot tears roll down his face at how wrong this whole thing was, how cruel, and how it had ended with the complete waste of Amanda’s life. She’d been smart and beautiful. She should still be alive. What was wrong with him? How could he have been so twisted up in his own ego that he never even checked on Amanda after she left? How could he have not known what his own chief of staff was doing?

  Richard landed on the couch, lost in disbelief. Maybe he hadn’t exactly loved Amanda, but he had cared for her! She was a good kid. Kind to others. She was funny. When she entered a room, people instinctively smiled.

  This town chewed her up and spit her out. It was his fault.

  What would have happened if she’d come to him with news of the child? Would he have been tempted by the one thing power and money could never provide? Maybe he would have found the courage to leave Tamara and ride the wave of scandal like a man. Maybe he would have left politics. He would never know, because he hadn’t been allowed to make that decision for himself.

  M.J. had made it for him.

  “You stole my power to choose.” He heard his voice shake with fury. “You made decisions you had no right to make.”

  M.J. snorted. “Oh, for the love of God, Richard, don’t be so melodramatic. Now, there is one matter we need to settle before we part ways.”

  He was stunned.

  “I hope you’re listening because here’s how it’s going to work.”

  Richard was suddenly too tired to think.

  “You work for me, now.”

  He heard himself let go with a slow, weary laugh.

  “I know how the old-boy system works. You might be down, but you’ll never be all the way out. You’ll get another law gig somewhere, maybe even transition into life as a lobbyist. So if I ever need you to smooth the path for me in any way, you’ll do it. You owe me that.”

  “Or what, Mary Jane?”

  She gave him a malevolent smile. “The world will learn exactly how you managed the magical custody-by-default ruling in your favor. Think about it. Not only will you go down in history as a dirty old man, but you’ll probably be charged with bribing a public official, perjury, influence peddling—a veritable cornucopia of improprieties!”

  Richard’s face had gone dead. He wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or reacting to a political pistol-whipping courtesy of his most faithful confidante, the person who had done his bidding for the past sixteen years. Yes, the island cop might have had a hunch, but his chief of staff knew.

  “Is this a threat?”

  “No. It’s your new reality.”

  Richard looked at M.J.’s face as if he were seeing her for the first time. All that rage, all those hard lines, all that scheming and grasping for one moment of glory—he understood her perfectly.

  Because he’d taught her everything she knew.

  The truth was, if it weren’t for Christina, Richard wouldn’t give a goddamn if he did prison time—as unlikely as that would be for a congressman with a heart condition and the best lawyers money could buy.

  “You disappoint me, Mary Jane.”

  She laughed. “And you failed me.”

  Richard thought about that for a moment. “You’re right. I did. I suppose you should do whatever you believe is right, expose me if you must, and I’ll face the consequences. If they don’t find Christina, nothing matters anyway.”

  “What the . . . ?”

  “You win.” He raised his chin. “Isn’t that what you want—to win? Your resignation has been regretfully accepted. Now, get the hell out.”

  M.J. moved to the door. She placed her hand on the doorknob, then glanced over her shoulder to Richard. That smile was back. Yet again, he thought of Tamara, and he shivered.

  “You know, I’m really going to enjoy watching you crash and burn, Congressman.”

  He waved her off. “It’s an empty threat, and you know it. You’d only incriminate yourself.”

  Her smile widened. “Perhaps I’ll get immunity in exchange for delivering your ass on a platter. You taught me everything I know about making deals, Richard. Remember?”

  * * *

  Charlie knew it was a risky idea, b
ut it was his birthday, and he was so lonely that he craved the comfort memories could provide. Even if he had to settle for memories tainted with sorrow.

  He hadn’t opened this door in over a month. The last time he’d come in Amanda’s room was right after Wahlman’s lawyer had shown up. That was the night Evie had told him the whole story. He learned of Amanda’s affair with the congressman she worked for, and when he had discovered she was pregnant, the bastard had insisted she terminate the pregnancy and threatened her life if she didn’t leave the city immediately. No wonder the country was going to hell in a hay wagon—Congress was nothing but a cesspool of power-hungry, lying degenerates like Richard Wahlman. God help the USA.

  Sometimes, Charlie thought it a blessing that his Ginny hadn’t lived to see what happened to Amanda—and now Evelyn. It would have been too much for her to bear.

  Charlie flipped on the light and crossed the old wood floors to sit on the double bed. Amanda had always been a free spirit, such a bright and creative young woman. The colors in her bedroom reflected her personality perfectly—yellows and oranges and reds everywhere he looked.

  The room was just as she had left it. Framed photographs and books and pillows scattered about. The comforter still held her scent. Amanda’s computer was on her desk, covered in a thin layer of dust. Wonder of wonders—the FBI hadn’t stolen all her personal things the way they had Evelyn’s. Maybe search warrants only applied to the living.

  Charlie sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, soaking in the presence of his younger child. He missed Amanda down to his bones. He missed Jellybean and Cricket inside every cell of his body. What was he to do with his life now that everyone he loved had gone? It was like all the color had been sucked out of his world.

  Charlie didn’t fight the waterworks. But eventually he opened his eyes and decided he would keep on somehow. There were animals to feed and water. Maybe now was the time to get another dog for company. Maybe even a border collie like Jordi.