Chapter 35

The door swung open. A tall, heavyset, gray-haired man stood framed in the doorway.

The first thing that struck her was the smell, and she reeled back from the sickly-sweet stench of stale alcohol radiating off him in palpable waves.

“What do ya want?” His eyes were sunken, the whites threaded with red, and his nose glowed under a myriad of broken veins.

He was a drunk. She recognized the all-too-familiar signs. He’d probably had a beer for breakfast and a lunch of whiskey with a rum chaser. “JD Burroughs?” The years had been hard on him. His once-thick dark hair had thinned to greasy strands and dulled to a dingy gray. His muscular build had softened beneath layers of fat.

His bleary eyes, buried in a sea of wrinkles in his weathered face, studied her with suspicion. “I’m not interested in whatever it is you’re sellin’.”

He started to close the door, but she held out her hand and stopped him. “Wait, JD. It’s me.”

He blinked. “Do I know you?”

“It’s me, JD. Margaret O’Flynn.”

His eyes widened, his efforts to think through his alcohol haze almost comical.

“Maggie?” He opened the door wider and stepped onto the porch. “Well, I’ll be. My goodness. Look at you. You’re all growed up.” A wobbly grin wreathed his face. “Damn, if you don’t look just like your mama. What are you doin’ here? How did you find me?” His gaze swiveled past her, settling on Russ, and he reeled back, grabbing the doorframe to steady himself.

Russ stepped onto the weathered deck and extended his hand. “Hi. I’m Russ.”

JD’s smile bared nicotine-stained, crooked teeth. “You’re Maggie’s husband?”

Heat flooded her face. “Er…no…um…” She ignored the teasing glint in Russ’s hazel eyes. “Russ is a…er…he’s a friend.”

“A friend, is he?” JD cackled. “So that’s what they call ’em these days.”

Russ snorted, and she shot him a lethal look.

Suppressing an obvious grin, he said, “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re here, Mr. Burroughs. Maggie has a few questions she’d like to ask you.”

The old man’s gaze swiveled. “You do, do you, Maggie?”

“I’d like to talk to you about my parents.” Was it her imagination, or did JD’s grizzled face lose some of its ruddy color?

“Your parents? Terrible thing, but that was a long time ago. I don’t remember much.”

His warm spittle sprayed her face, and she reeled back. “Please. We’ve come a long way. This won’t take long.”

A nerve twitched beneath his left eye. “If we’re gonna be relivin’ old times, we’ll be needin’ something to celebrate seein’ you again, won’t we? Helps with the memory, if you know what I mean.” He winked. “Right, Maggie?”

She flinched as if he’d struck her. Did he know about her drinking problem? No way. How could he? She hadn’t seen him since she was a child. He was drunk, that’s all. When people were inebriated, they said and did things they didn’t mean. She inhaled a steadying breath. “Don’t worry about us. We don’t want anything to drink.” He was already well on his way to being drunk. She’d never get the answers she wanted if he was hammered. Besides, then there’d be two drunks, instead of just one.

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“What about your friend?” His gaze switched to Russ. “Do you wanna drink?”

Russ shook his head. “No thanks.”

JD shrugged. “Suit yourselves, but I’m sure you won’t mind if I indulge.” He opened the trailer door. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the dark interior.

“Are you going to be all right?” Concern softened Russ’s hazel eyes.

Her face flamed at the certainty he wasn’t referring to the emotional meeting with JD. Russ was worried she’d succumb to her craving and have a drink. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” The lie slid off her lips.

He leaned close and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. His warm breath fanned her cheek. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

She beamed under his approval, praying her smile didn’t look as goofy as it felt.

“JD’s quite a character.” A furrow formed between his dark brows. “I wonder if he knows anything.”

“He seems nervous, but his anxiousness could be because our visit surprised him, and he’s been drinking.” She smoothed her hand over her hair. “I don’t remember him being much of a drinker, but I was just a kid.”

“He likes his booze now, that’s for sure.”

The door opened, and their host appeared, carrying a beer bottle.

She stilled. The frosty amber bottle, beaded with condensation, looked like heaven itself. She could smell the sweet, yeasty hops. Her mouth watered, and she licked her lips.

JD held up the bottle. “You sure you two don’t want one? Plenty more in the fridge.”

Her hand trembled with the bone-deep ache to rip the bottle out of his hand and down the contents in a single gulp. But she dug deep, swallowed back the insatiable thirst, and shook her head. “No thanks, JD. I don’t drink.” Not a complete falsehood. She didn’t drink. At least, she hadn’t for the past eighteen days.

JD’s eyes narrowed. “Really? Huh.” He lifted his bottle and gulped a giant swig. “Ahhh.” He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You two don’t know what you’re missin’.”

She stared at the beer, unable to look away. The beast inside her demanded to be fed, but she held to her resolve and resisted. As if sensing her struggle, Russ looped his arm around her waist, lending her added strength by his nearness. She tore her gaze from the beer long enough to shoot him a grateful look.

“Is that your dog in the car?” JD leaned in, his ninety-proof breath leaking through his teeth.

She winced and followed the direction of his gaze.

Otis had climbed into the front passenger seat, and his head and half his body hung out the sports car’s open window.

“That’s Otis.”

“Nice lookin’ pooch.” JD guzzled another slurp. “Let him out if you want. I don’t mind. I like dogs.”

Glad to put distance between herself and the yeasty smell of hops, she hustled over to Russ’s vehicle and opened the door.

Otis bounded out, his body wriggling with excitement. He galloped over to the porch and greeted JD with sloppy licks on his hands and face.

JD chortled and petted him. “Hey there. Aren’t you a handsome boy?”

A squirrel chattered from somewhere in the surrounding trees.

Otis’s ears pricked to attention, and his nails skidded across the deck as he raced off.

Athena perched on the edge of a wobbly wooden chair. “You were a good friend of my parents, weren’t you?”

Burroughs nodded his grizzled head and took a long pull of beer. “Your father was the only man I ever met who liked sailin’ as much as me.”

“Dad loved to sail, that’s for sure.” She sorted through the multitude of thoughts clogging her brain, struggling to find the right words to ferret out the truth without flat-out accusing him of lying all these years.

An awkward silence settled over the trio.

A huge black raven croaked from the top branch of a towering cedar.

Otis’s booming bark echoed from deep within the forest.

Finally, JD spoke. “I was real sorry to hear about your parents.”

Unbidden, tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. “Thank you.” She had no idea why she thanked him, but over the years she’d learned that thanking people was the expected response when someone offered condolences. “Do you remember anything about the day they disappeared?”

He choked on a swallow of beer. “Me? I don’t know nothin’. Only what I saw on the television news.”

Her heart sank. She’d been so certain he could help. They’d traveled all this way for nothing.

“I need another beer.” He tossed the empty bottle into a large, metal oil barrel filled to the brim with broken beer and liquor bottles.

“I’ll get it.” Russ strode to the door and opened it. “You and Maggie talk.”

The older man looked as if he were going to argue, but he shrugged. “Beer’s in the fridge.”

“Got it.” Russ nodded, and the door closed with a slam behind him.

She sucked in a breath. “I was just a kid, but I remember overhearing my father talking to you on the phone. He was asking about a boat you were selling. He wanted you to bring it to Shelter Island so he could try it out.”

JD’s pupils were the size of quarters in the shadowy blue depths. “Yeah? Your dad was interested in boats. That’s pretty much what we always talked about.”

“You were supposed to bring the boat by on the day my parents disappeared. Did you?” She gripped the arms of her chair and held her breath, her heart pounding.

JD scrubbed his hands over his whiskered cheeks. “Why are you askin’ me all these questions?” His eyes narrowed. “I told the police years ago I don’t know nothin’ about what happened to your parents. That hasn’t changed. I still don’t know nothin’.”

“You weren’t on the island that day?”

A slew of unnamed emotions crossed his craggy face. “Like I said, I can’t tell you nothin’.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

She jerked around.

Russ stood behind the screen door, a beer bottle in his hand. He shoved open the door and handed the bottle to JD. “Well, Burroughs? Are you going to answer the lady’s question?”