Girls Like Us(18)

“I like technical answers.”

“I’ve been studying this for years. It’s so important to me, I sometimes forget that not everyone wants to be versed in coastal ecology.”

“That’s how I feel about serial killers.”

Grace lets out a surprised laugh. “You know what amazes me? How boring most women allow themselves to become. I go to a lot of cocktail parties out here. And the wives, they all went to Harvard and Yale and Stanford. And then they marry a hedge fund manager and have children, and it’s like they’ve been lobotomized. All they want to talk about is tennis tournaments and interior design. You’re different. It’s refreshing.”

“As are you.”

“Well, yes. I suppose I am. But I wasn’t able to have children. I had to find other things to nurture.”

“I’m sorry.” I frown, embarrassed to have wandered into such personal territory.

She waves me off. “Oh, it’s all right, I’m very open about it. So is Eliot. One of the things we agreed on, when we finally realized it wasn’t going to happen for us, was that we would make our lives meaningful in other ways.”

“Your conservation work is meaningful.”

“It keeps me busy. What Eliot does, that’s the important stuff.”

“He’s the Secretary of the Treasury?”

“Yes. He retired from finance a few years ago. He wanted to give back. It’s a bit of a challenge, him being in DC so much. But we’re making it work. I wish he was here now, though.” She stares off at the lawn, and I notice her chin tremble.

“When did the dune restoration begin?” I ask, trying to get us back on track.

“The town finally agreed to close the park at the end of June. They balked about it at first—summer is the high season, you know—but we convinced them. Everyone kicks and screams when we limit their usage of parkland, but humans do so much damage.” Her face darkens. She looks as if she might cry.

“They really do, don’t they?” I say gently.

“They don’t even realize they’re doing it. It goes beyond litter and bonfires. I suppose I’m part of the problem. I let Jasper run loose there when I shouldn’t’ve. Of all people, I should know better.” She covers her face with her hands and sniffs.

I give her a second. “Did Mr. Morales work on the restoration in the park?”

“Yes. I can get a list for you, if you like. Of everyone who worked on that site.”

“That would be helpful, thank you.”

“Do you happen to know if Mr. Morales worked for James Meachem?”

She winces, looking momentarily pained. “I know he does, in fact. We share a boundary line with Mr. Meachem. I suggested perhaps we plant some trees along it, to give us both more privacy. Alfonso and his crew took care of that. I believe Mr. Meachem hired them to work on the rest of his property as well.”

“Mr. Morales isn’t here now, is he?”

“No, no. I just bring him in during the summer, when I need extra help. In the off-season, he works at one of the nurseries on the North Fork.”

“Do you know which one?”

Grace hesitates. She blinks, looks down at her hands. I’m certain she knows, but she doesn’t want to get him in trouble. “I can’t remember now.”

“That’s okay. You don’t happen to know where Mr. Meachem is, do you?”

“He isn’t here. He comes and goes.”

“He must have staff, then. To care for the house while he’s out of town?”

“I imagine he does. With a house that size, one really must. But I don’t really know. I’ve never been over there.” I catch a faint whiff of disdain in her voice.

“Have you met him?”

“I have. But we don’t socialize. There’s a reason I planted trees between us.”

“Why do you say that?”

Grace’s jaw flexes almost imperceptibly. “He has parties. They go on for days sometimes. The noise is unbearable. Very high-profile men attend. Politicians, CEOs. And there are girls. Beautiful. And young. Apparently, that’s his thing.”

“He entertains young girls?”

She arches her brow. “I think they’re entertaining him.”

“I see.”

“We have a house down in Palm Beach. He has a reputation down there, too. Ask around. You’ll hear stories. Rich as he is, they won’t let him into any of the clubs. Not here, and not down there. Because of his—how shall I say it—proclivities.”

“Have you ever called the police? About his parties, I mean.”

“Oh, the police won’t do anything.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Everyone out here knows about him. Including the police. And they just turn a blind eye. He’s a powerful man. He has powerful friends. Down in Palm Beach, people whisper that he has the commissioner on his payroll. And he has all sorts of people at his parties. Judges, senators. People who can stop investigations if they want to.”

“And out here? Do you think he has friends in the police department?”

“Between us?”

“Of course.”

“I’m certain of it.”

I hear footsteps on the driveway. I turn and see Lee making his way toward us.