Sunset Beach(133)

He avoided looking at her, gazing around the room, up at the huge mounted tarpon on the wall.

“You know, Big Jim, one of the guys who started this bar? He was a helluva fisherman. He took me out tarpon fishing one time, back in the day. Too much like work for me, you know? You can’t even eat the damn things.”

“About Mom,” Drue said gently.

“I’m getting to that,” Zee said. “Yeah, I’m not proud of it, but we did have a thing. Your dad was in law school at Stetson, and when he wasn’t studying, he was working nights as a security guard for concerts at the Bayfront Center and the Curtis Hixson, over in Tampa. The marriage was in trouble. And by then, Frannie and I were divorced. Sherri was lonely, and I was a shoulder to cry on. We had that shared secret, you know? It only lasted a short while.”

“Do you think Dad knows?”

“No,” Zee said firmly. “Never. It was over, almost as soon as it started. Your mom got pregnant, and it was the happiest I’d ever seen her.”

Drue’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Hold on. Are you telling me…?

“No!” he exclaimed. “God no. I swear it. I’ll admit, there was a moment there, when she told me, I guess I kind of secretly thought, maybe? But Sherri set me straight. The timing was off. And when you were born, and I saw you? Lucky for you, you’re Brice’s kid, no ifs, ands or buts.”

“No offense, but I’m really glad,” Drue said. “I think I’ve had enough shock for one week.”

“None taken,” Zee said. He toyed with his sunglasses again. “Hey, did you know I was at the hospital when you were born? In fact, I’m the one who took your mom to the hospital.”

“I never knew that.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “True story. Brice was in a hearing at the courthouse up in Clearwater, and your mom was at Publix, when her water broke. Your dad had a beeper, but we didn’t have cell phones back then. Sherri went to the customer service booth and had them call the station. I’d made detective by then. Dispatch radioed me, and I hauled ass across town with flashers and sirens. Never so scared in my life, that she’d have that baby in the back of my Crown Vic. But we made it to St. Anthony’s, and by the time they wheeled her into the delivery room, your dad was right there with her.”

Drue smiled. “That’s a nice story, Jimmy. I wish I’d known it before.”

He started to say something, but shook his head.

“What?” Drue asked. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s nothing,” Zee said.

“Please tell me,” she begged.

He put the sunglasses on again. They were, she realized, his personal invisibility cloak.

“Did you find anything else up in that attic at the cottage?”

“Not really. An old sewing machine, some boxes of baby clothes, my grandmother’s photo albums. Mom wasn’t really a saver.”

“See any luggage up there?” he asked casually.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I think I did see some old suitcases. Why do you ask?”

He reached into his pocket and placed a crisp fifty-dollar bill on the tabletop. Then he stood up, the cardboard box tucked under one arm.

“You’re the detective now,” he said. “Check it out. Understand?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t understand at all.”

“You will.”



* * *



When she got home, she stripped down to her camisole and a pair of shorts and climbed up into the attic. The heat was palpable. She’d brought a flashlight, but there was still enough sun shining in through the west-facing attic window that she easily spotted the stack of luggage.

Nothing interesting, she thought. A graduated set of blue Samsonite suitcases, the heavy old kind nobody wanted anymore because they didn’t have wheels. She pulled each case out, snapped the latch and looked inside. Nothing except for satin lining and some dried-up silverfish carcasses. It wasn’t until she’d pulled out the biggest suitcase that she spotted it—a cream-colored train case, shoved all the way back into the eaves and covered with a thick coat of dust.

Sweat poured off her face and down her arms. She grabbed the suitcase, sat cross-legged on the rough floorboards and opened the lid. The top was mirrored, and when she saw what was reflected inside, it took her breath away.

Stacks and stacks of banded bills. She lifted a bundle out and saw that there were more bundles beneath. She remembered the yellowing newspaper clippings her mother had squirreled away all those years ago.

Jimmy Zee was wrong. It didn’t take a detective to figure this out. She was looking down at the money Colleen Hicks had withdrawn from the bank on the last day of her life. Her running-away money. She rifled the bills, twenties, fifties and hundreds.

“Now what?” she wondered out loud. “What the hell do I do with all this money?”





63


Drue called Jonah from the attic. “I know this sounds crazy, but is there any way you could come out to my house tonight? I promise there won’t be any more armed maniacs skulking in the bushes. Oh, and bring your laptop.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’m leaving right now.”

True to his word, the Audi pulled into the drive at Coquina Cottage not quite an hour later.