CHAPTER 20
The sun was low in the sky as Ashley Campbell walked down the beach, away from the main grounds of the resort. It wouldn’t allow any of the local vendors onto the property, but they tolerated their presence here. She could see her old friend on the sand, at the far end of the resort, near a woman packing up her own wares for the day. Ashley had met the woman before, a vendor who sold jewelry and handmade sarongs, but she wasn’t very friendly.
She approached the pair, carrying a Styrofoam restaurant container. The woman nodded at her and turned to leave, but Clive was focused on his work—some huge piece of driftwood.
“Good evening, love,” Ashley said.
The old sculptor stopped working and smiled up at her. Clive was dressed in jeans and a well-worn T-shirt, his feet bare. On a handmade green blanket beside him were smaller finished pieces, most of them painted, depicting mainly tropical fauna—reef fish, parrots, lizards.
“My Lady Ashley. I am wonderful. How was your day?”
“Lucky to be alive.”
“As are we all.”
“Here. I brought you something to eat.” She handed Clive the Styrofoam box containing leftovers provided from a poolside restaurant. She knew the cook well.
He shook his head. “You don’t have to do this, child. I’m fine.”
“Nonsense. You have a family. And so much food gets thrown away here.”
He opened the box. “Ahh . . . pizza. And even some vegetables. Bless you.”
She handed him a fork.
Out of the brush, from near a pile of rubble, a stray mutt emerged and trotted down the chain-link fence that encircled most of the property. The old girl, white and spotted, scarred up, was jumpy around everyone. Except Clive. The dog looked at Ashley warily, then approached him, tail wagging. He patted her head, then opened the box and handed her half the pizza. As she wolfed it down, Ashley shook her head.
“The food’s supposed to be for you, Clive.”
He waved his hand. “I know. I know. I’ll save da rest. But she got a family too.”
The bitch, with obvious rows of nipples on her belly, probably had a litter somewhere out of sight. Sometimes Clive was surrounded by a family of tabby cats that lived outside the resort, through the fence. One of them had a limp from a broken front leg. A mean-hearted guest had probably kicked that one.
The resort where she worked was supposed to be an eco-friendly paradise, merged with nature, which would draw in families who wanted to get up close with sea life and enjoy the island’s beaches. But it also drew gamblers, wealthy high rollers who came here to take risks and indulge in selfish pleasures. Selfish people. But it was what it was. It was where she worked.
It was Oceanus.