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Reese smiled. Loretta and Phil had been together for almost twelve years, once she’d finally given up on Huey, packed her bags and walked out of Vernay House for good. And since that time, the mansion had suffered twelve years of nobody caring about it.
“If I didn’t know that Phil could beat me with one hand tied behind his back, I’d be tempted,” Reese said. “But this has to do with an entirely different matter.” He sobered, cleared his throat and watched Loretta’s blue eyes narrow suspiciously. She was a smart woman and caught on fast.
“You’re not here about Huey, are you?”
Keeping his expression resolute, he replied, “I know you’re busy, but I need to talk to you.”
She lowered her voice. “I asked you to leave me out of Huey’s problems, Reese. Besides, Phil could come out of the kitchen anytime, and if he hears us discussing Huey, he’ll blow a gasket.”
Reese stated the obvious, hoping it would make a difference. “Huey’s his brother, Loretta. He must care about what happens to him.”
“He did once,” she said, “but not anymore. Phil has vowed never to lend him money again or come to his rescue.” She leaned in close and spoke in a whisper. “I know Huey was hurt when I left him for Phil, but darn it, Reese, it’s been twelve years, past time for Huey to get on with his life.”
Reese wasn’t sure he agreed. In fact, the way the romantic triangle had ended up was one aspect of Huey’s life that earned Reese’s sympathy. Another was that Huey had said goodbye to his daughter shortly before Loretta walked out on him.
“Phil doesn’t even like me talking about Huey,” Loretta said, “and frankly, that’s how I want it, too.”
“I’m going to have to arrest him, Loretta.”
She sagged against the bar. “Oh, come on, Reese. You don’t mean that. Huey’s a problem. Nobody knows that better than me. But arrest him? He’s sixty-five years old. And he’s not a criminal.”
“Maybe not in the sense you’re thinking, but he’s a public nuisance and he’s breaking the law. At least once a week I’ve got to drive over to his place and remind him that living in the Conch Republic doesn’t mean that we’re divorced from the rest of the country. We have the same laws here as on the mainland, and Huey seems to enjoy stretching them to the limit.”
Her voice filled with resignation, she asked, “What did he do this time?”
Reese explained about the fire, Mrs. Howell’s phone call and the complaints they’d gotten from tourists recently. “No wonder he doesn’t make a living selling those cheap souvenirs,” Reese said. “One encounter with Huey, and nobody wants to buy anything he’s offering. All the tourists think about is getting away from him.”
Loretta shook her head. “I don’t know what I can do.”
“I’ll give you a chance to talk to him one more time. He has fourteen days to pay his latest citations, and a couple of days to dispose of a load of offensive garbage in the yard. If he does those things, and if you can convince him to abide by the laws around here, I’ll cut him a break…again.”
She sighed. “Huey doesn’t like to listen to me, Reese. You know that.”
Reese felt bad for putting Loretta in the middle of this situation, but he knew darn well she’d never forgive him if he arrested Huey without telling her first. She might claim to have given up on the man, but somewhere deep inside her, an affection for him still flickered.
“Okay,” Reese said. “I understand your position, but I felt I owed it to you to tell you before I acted.”
She tapped her order pad on the bar. “I appreciate that. You still want your sandwich?”
“I’m happy to say Huey hasn’t ruined my appetite.”
She turned to go to the kitchen, but stopped after a few steps. Turning back, she said, “Actually, there’s one person, and one only, who might be able to get through to him.”
Reese knew exactly who she meant, and an image of a cute, blue-eyed blonde filled his mind. “I didn’t think it was my place to suggest Abby,” he murmured.
“He still listens to her,” Loretta said. “Not that he follows her advice. But if anybody can get him to behave himself, it would be our daughter.”
Reese was beginning to see a way out of this dilemma. “So what are you saying? That you’ll call her?”
“I hate to. She’s got her career in Atlanta. She’s busy. And she’s really not comfortable being here.”
Reese only nodded. He hadn’t seen Abigail Vernay in thirteen years. He was aware that she returned to the island sometimes. She still maintained a connection to Huey and her mother, but she stayed away from the public areas when she was here, and remained only a couple of days. Their paths hadn’t crossed in the seven years he’d been back.
All that supported what Loretta had told him. Abby did seem to have misgivings about coming home. Reese just hoped the history between them wasn’t one of the reasons.
What had happened was ancient history. She’d probably forgotten all about it. Still, Reese couldn’t be certain. Women’s memories were tricky things.
Chapter Two
“HE’S GOT TWO WEEKS to pay a bunch of fines, Abby, or Reese Burkett’s going to arrest him.”
Abby had been unable to get her last conversation with her mother out of her mind. When Loretta had informed her of Huey’s latest trouble and its consequences, she had been furious. “Arrest him?” she’d practically shouted at her mom, though her anger had been directed at the island’s arrogant police captain. “Reese had better not lay a hand on Poppy.”
Now, two days later, as she neared Southard Street, Abby was ready to do whatever was necessary to protect her father. Once she’d calmed down, she had admitted that his behavior had gotten out of hand. She also recognized that she had the best chance of talking some sense into him and keeping him from going to jail. “You’re the one person Huey seems to tolerate these days,” her mother had said.
Abby smiled, thinking about the unique father-daughter bond they shared, a bond that had been tested over the years but remained strong because of weekly phone calls and genuine concern. But now, Abby had to admit her dad needed something more from her than a supportive, long-distance relationship. He needed to start behaving like a grown-up.
So, taking into account the month of personal days and vacation time she’d accumulated, Abby made a difficult decision. After turning over a mountain of paperwork to a colleague, and explaining her situation to the most vulnerable of her cases, she’d arranged for a leave from her job so she could stay in Key West through Christmas. Her involvement with the young women in her caseload didn’t end just because she was away, of course. She’d made sure everyone who depended on her had her cell phone number.
Leaving Atlanta had been difficult, but Abby was convinced she was doing the right thing for her family. If anyone could help Huey out of the mess he’d gotten himself into, it was her, not an island cop who thought he could change her dad by intimidating him. She only wished she could avoid Reese throughout her stay, as she had in the past, though she doubted that would be possible. Key West was, and always had been, a small town.
Thanksgiving Day was nearly over when Abby drove up to her old house with a couple of take-out turkey dinners on the floor of her car. She hadn’t told her father she was coming, for two reasons: she didn’t want him to worry about her making the long drive, and she didn’t want to answer questions about why she’d planned the trip.
As she pulled up the cracked cement driveway, she encountered debris that spread from the lawn into the street.
Much of it was charred and unrecognizable—and an indication that things were as bad as her mother had said. Abby parked, got out of her car and wrinkled her nose at the foul odor from the garbage.
Then she gazed up at the two-and-a-half-story house she’d grown up in. At one time she’d been proud that the 1857 mansion had been built by her great-great-great-grandfather Armand Vernay, a self-made millionaire during the island’s infamous shipwrecking days. Today, eleven months since her last visit, Abby only sensed decay and desperation around her, emphasizing even more the painful memories of the choices she’d made thirteen years ago, and the consequences she’d been forced to live with.
Scraggly oleander bushes, once brilliant with pink blossoms, now reached heights of more than ten feet and invaded the wraparound porch. Bare limbs chafed the delicate rippled glass in the ancient windows. The wide brick pathway, where once two people could walk arm in arm to the front door, barely allowed one person to climb the three steps without risk of scratching ankles on unkempt brambles. Most of the windows were shuttered, giving the house a sad, deserted feel.
Clutching the turkey dinners, she picked her way toward the porch, half expecting Huey to burst through the door. He always seemed to have a special radar where she was concerned, somehow knowing when she was around. Disappointed, she walked in the door, which was never locked, and called his name.
Silence. She stared into the parlor, noting the disarray. Mail, mostly flyers, littered Huey’s desk. Dust lay thick on the old mahogany pieces she used to polish with such care. She progressed down the hall, again calling for her father. Once in the kitchen, she set the turkey dinners on the table and peered out the window. Maybe he was in the backyard. She glanced at the overgrown bushes and a large, darkened patch of dirt that looked as though it had been burned—confirmation of Huey’s run-in with Reese.
Abby shook her head and returned to the hall. Maybe Poppy was napping. She’d go upstairs and awaken him, she decided, just before her cell phone rang. She pulled the phone from her jeans pocket, read the digital display and answered. “Mom?”
“Hi, honey. Have you arrived at Huey’s yet?”
“Yes, I just got here.”
“Good. I didn’t want to call and upset you while you were still on the road. I was afraid you’d drive too fast to get here.”
Abby sat heavily on the bottom step of the staircase. “Mom, what’s happened? Poppy’s not here.”
“I know.” Loretta paused. “Now, don’t think the worst, but he’s in the hospital.”
“The hospital?” Abby rose and hurried to the front door. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”
“He fell, Abby. He’ll be okay, but he’s got a few bruises and a concussion. The doctors want to keep him overnight for observation.”
“My God. Poor Poppy.” She picked up her purse, which she’d dropped on the hall stand, and went outside. “I’ll head right over. Are you coming, too?”
“I went when I first heard, but once I knew Huey was okay, I came to work. You can call here at the Shack if you need me.”
“Okay. But wait, Mom, don’t hang up. How did it happen? Why did Poppy fall?”
Loretta breathed deeply. “You won’t like hearing this, Ab.”
“Mom…”
“Huey says Reese Burkett attacked him.”
ABBY’S HANDS SHOOK on the steering wheel as she drove the mile to the island hospital. She tried to picture Reese Burkett with her fingers wrapped around his neck. But instead of popping veins on his forehead, and broken blood vessels in his eyes, all that came to mind was a youthful, cocky smile and heavily lashed green eyes full of confidence and invincibility. That was Reese then. She had no idea what he looked like now, only that she would experience an admittedly selfish gratification in discovering he’d packed forty pounds onto his athletic frame and lost most of his thick dark hair. How dare he manhandle her father? She’d meet him in court, facing an abuse charge!
The sun was setting as she parked in the hospital lot and entered the lobby. Mechanically, she showed the required identification, had her picture taken and patted the ID sticker onto her blouse. She was used to hospital security regulations. In the course of her job, she visited many hospitals in the Atlanta area.
Huey was on the second floor. Abby exited the elevator, quickly scanned the directional signs for his room number and headed to the end of the hall. She heard Alex Trebek read an answer on Jeopardy, then recognized her dad’s voice giving the proper response before the contestants could buzz in.
Huey snapped his fingers as she entered the room. He’d gotten the Jeopardy question right.
Abby hurried to his bedside, then stopped short when she saw the bruise around his closed right eye. “Poppy!”
He turned to her, and a huge grin spread across his face. “Well, I’ll be. Baby girl! What are you doing here? You found out I was in this joint?”
“Not until I got into town, about thirty minutes ago. Mom phoned and told me you’d been admitted.”
He stared at her with his good eye. “So what are you doing here? It isn’t Christmas yet.”
“No, but I came early, to spend more time with you.”
“What? You’re staying through December?”
“That’s the plan.”
“That’s not like you, Abigail—taking off work so long.”
“It’s fine, Poppy. Everything’s covered.”
“But you never stay more than a couple of days.”
“I know, but this is different.” She pulled up a chair. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about me. I want to know what happened to you. How are you feeling?” She lifted the tube leading into his arm. “And what’s this for?”
He lowered the TV volume with his remote. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Everybody gets a drip of some kind, they tell me. That’s just sugar water or something.” He tapped the side of his head. “It’s the old noggin that’s giving me trouble. But they gave me something that makes Alex Trebek look like Loni Anderson.”
Abby leaned close. “What about your eye?”
“Oh, yeah, that. Haven’t had a shiner in years.”
She rested her hand on his arm. “Poppy, what happened? Tell me how you ended up in here.”
He snorted. “You need to ask your old beau about it, Abigail.”
“Don’t call him that. He was never my beau, and you know it. If Reese did this to you, I want to hear the details.”
“He did it, all right. Knocked me flatter than an IHOP pancake in my own front yard.” Huey suddenly sat up straight. He stared over Abby’s shoulder and gazed cantankerously at the doorway. “And there’s the abuser now. Come to try and put the cuffs on me again, Reese?”
Abby spun around, the chair legs scraping on the speckled linoleum. Her heart pounded. There he was, well built, still with a full head of hair. Damn you, Reese, she thought, hating that her chest clenched with resentment and heartache and other emotions that, if she analyzed them, might scare her to death.
She stood up and placed her hand over her stomach in an effort to calm the trembling inside. She hadn’t seen Reese in thirteen years. He’d matured, but he hadn’t really changed. At twenty-one, he’d given lots of girls reason to hope he would ask them out, her included, though at barely eighteen, she hadn’t sparked his interest. Until…She shook her head, banishing the image of that one night she’d tried so hard to forget, a night he obviously had.
As he walked toward her, Reese stared, obviously searching for her in the recesses of his mind. His lips twitched, as if he almost wanted to smile but figured it was inappropriate. He wiped his hand down the side of his jeans and held it out to her. “I can’t believe it. Is it really you, Abby?”
She refused his handshake—a small act of defiance to let him know she was aware of his role in this travesty of justice tonight. “It is,” she said, her voice harsh. “And I’ve arrived just in time, it seems.”
“Come to finish me off, did ya, Burkett?” Huey muttered. He tugged onAbby’s arm, getting her full attention. “Don’t leave the room, Abigail. I’m going to need a witness.”
“That won’t be necessary, Huey,” Reese said, twisting a ball cap in his hands. “I just stopped by to see how you’re doing.”
“How do you think I’m doing?” Huey said. “You roughed me up pretty good, Captain Burkett.” He pointed to his eye. “I may lose my vision in this one.”
Abby gasped. “Poppy, is that true?”
Reese frowned. “It’s not true. I’ve talked to the doctor. Your dad’s going to be fine.”
“Lucky for you,” Abby said. “If Poppy suffers any permanent injury because of what you did…”
Reese scratched the back of his head. “Abby, can I talk to you in the hallway?”
She glared at him with all the bravado she could muster. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Give me five minutes, Abby, please.”
She looked at her dad, who reached for the TV remote and punched up the volume a couple of notches. “Go ahead,” he said. “But don’t believe a word he says. He tried to arrest me today and it got ugly. That’s the truth of it.”
Reese shook his head. “I’m sorry, Huey. I apologized to you earlier, and I’m apologizing again. I didn’t want you getting hurt. You can’t think that I did.”
“Don’t ask me what was going on in your head, I just know what I felt when you attacked me. And I got the bruises to prove it.”
Reese stretched out his arm. “Abby?”
“Five minutes.” She stepped ahead of him, then walked a few feet down the hall.
“Can we find a place to sit and talk?” he asked.
She stayed where she was. “This is okay. I don’t want to be too far away in case Poppy calls me.”
“Fine.” Reese tucked the ball cap under his arm and ran his fingers through his hair. Strands fell onto his forehead, andAbby locked her gaze on the nurses’ station rather than stare at him. “I know how this must look to you,” he began.
