Chapter 28
Cora’s heart wasn’t in it. None of the classes interested her. She wanted to walk on the sand, smell the salty air, and listen to the waves.
“I’m tired of being inside,” she muttered to Jane. Ruby was off to the seashell wreath-making class.
“You know, I was thinking the same thing. Let’s go outside. We’re allowed on the resort beach, right?”
Cora nodded. “I think so. Security will stop us if we’re not.”
Jane sighed as they walked in the other direction down the long hallway to the lobby. “It’s just, well, we are at the beach. I’d hoped for more downtime.”
“Nobody could’ve predicted the way things have turned out,” Cora said.
“That’s for sure, and it’s not over yet,” she said.
When they walked outside, the fresh sea air filled Cora. “I love the scent of the beach,” she said.
“Ah, yes, I know what you mean,” Jane said.
“Look, there’s two empty chairs,” Cora said.
The resort’s cushioned lounge chairs sat in strategic places along its quiet section of the beach. Cora supposed most of the visitors this weekend were the retreaters and they were mostly inside.
“I read the legend of the Sea Glass Island Mermaid,” Cora said, after situating herself in the chair. “It was interesting.”
“I’ve been examining my book, too,” Jane said.
A server arrived with a flourish. “May I bring you ladies drinks?”
“Oh yes, that would be lovely. I’ll have a piña colada,” Jane said.
“Oh, that’s sounds good. I’ll have one, too,” Cora said. The sun was warming her skin and she allowed herself to relax—a bit. She slipped her sweater off.
She despised the air-conditioning. It could be one hundred degrees outside and she’d be freezing indoors. Seemed unnatural.
Jane slipped her sunglasses on, as did Cora.
“You won’t be able to be out here long,” Jane said. “You’re getting pink.”
“Sucks,” Cora said.
“Yes, but when you’re old and gray you will be glad,” Jane said. “The rest of us will be wrinkled prunes and you will still have your peaches and cream skin.”
“So they tell me,” Cora said, looking over her shoulder for the server. She was thirsty and the piña colada sounded refreshing.
“So Cashel is upstairs in your room, drunk?”
“Yep,” Cora said.
“I wonder if we should check on him.”
“He’s passed out cold,” Cora said.
“We need to sober him up,” Jane said, as their drinks came.
Gorgeous, fluffy white drinks with pink umbrellas and jewel-toned fresh fruit. Now, they were living the life. Sitting on the beach, watching the waves ebb and flow, listening to its rushing rhythm.
Cora leaned back into her chair after sipping from her large glass. “Mmmmm,” she said. “Good.”
“Yep.” Jane nodded with her lips still on the straw.
“Why do we need to sober up Cashel?” Cora asked.
“We need to find out what he knows,” Jane said.
“Yes, but if he’s still drunk it won’t do us any good,” Cora said. “The whole Adair Development thing is interesting. The Grimm family is against the development. And there were some others, some sort of conservationists, wanting to save what wild lands are left.”
“You know what was beautiful?” Jane said. “The swamp area. I never thought swamps and marshes could be pretty. I’d like to see that area saved, too.”
“It was nothing like I had imagined. The swamps and the marshes. Lovely in their own right,” Cora said. She remembered the kudzu, the live oaks, and the unusual grasses—and she remembered what she thought must have been Rue’s place, with the gorgeous, glittering chimes. “You know, I met Josh’s mother, Rue. I liked her. She seemed formidable.”
Jane quieted as she sipped more from her drink. “Maybe she didn’t like her new daughter-in-law.”
“Possibly,” Cora said.
“That’s more than possible. I’ve never known a mother who thought her son’s wife was good enough,” Jane said.
“Okay,” Cora said. “But would she have hated her enough to kill her? And why would she have killed Zooey?”
“That, my friend, is a good question. I suppose money was involved,” Jane said. “Or some kind of seedy affair.”
Cora’s ears pricked at the words seedy affair. She thought of her Adrian being sucked in to this situation. Surely he hadn’t been involved with any of it. Yet, the police insisted he wear the tracking bracelet.
“Don’t look now,” Jane said in a hushed voice. “Here comes Hank. Speaking of seedy affairs.” She wiggled her eyebrows comically in reference to his rumored involvement with his boss, Mathilde.
Hank? What was he doing here? Cora wondered.
“Hello, ladies,” he said. “May I join you?” He dragged a chair over and sat it on the other side of Cora.
“Sure,” Cora said. “I thought you’d be busy helping Mathilde in her class,” she said.
“I’ve been fired and I don’t feel like drinking alone,” he said, turning. “May I get a drink, please?” The server came close to him and he asked for a scotch on the rocks. A strong drink to be sipping on in the sun, Cora noted. “No pleasing that woman. I’ve had it. I stood up for myself and she fired me.”
Jane’s mouth dropped open.
“I’m so sorry, Hank,” Cora managed to say. “It’s been a trying weekend for everybody. I’m sure she’s stressed. Having all these murders happening when you’re trying to have a retreat . . .”
“Well, that’s what we argued about, frankly,” he said. “I thought we should cancel the classes. She refused. The woman has more money than God and she refused to cancel for fear of losing money. It’s so, I don’t know, crass. Zooey’s body isn’t even cold yet, I’m sure. And here we are making seashell wreaths.”
Well, there it was. He’d verbalized what Cora had been feeling under her skin this whole time.
Hank took his drink from the server. “Thank you,” he said.
Cora noted the slight trembling in his hand as he held his drink.
“I shouldn’t be talking with you two,” he said after he sipped from his drink and leaned back into his chair. “You’re in the crafting community and I don’t want any rumors flying around about my departure. So, please.”
“No worries,” Cora said. “Mum is the word.”
She sipped from her long straw, enjoying the smooth heat of the liquor as it traveled, remembering Hank and Mathilde arguing in the hallway of the resort—and standing outside the first night she and Adrian were walking back after seeing the wedding. What was the argument about? That’s right—the tiara. She sunk more into the relaxation of the moment and wondered if it mattered.