Sabrina was relieved to hear her phone ring, giving her an excuse to leave Sean. That is, until she looked at the caller ID panel and read “VIPD.” The last person she wanted to speak to was Detective Hodge. Her conversation with Sean had depleted her. But ducking the call would only delay the agony.
“Ms. Salter, this is Sergeant Lucy Detree.”
Sabrina felt like she’d just won the lottery.
“Sergeant Detree, what can I do for you?” While Lucy Detree may carry a badge from the same police department as Detective Hodge, Sabrina’s experience with her had been quite different. At her worst, Detree had seemed indifferent, but she had always remained professional.
“I need to meet with you so I can ask some questions, Ms. Salter.”
“But Detective Hodge gave everybody until tomorrow morning to retain counsel for our interviews,” Sabrina said. She didn’t know what she would do if Neil couldn’t accompany her to her interview. She knew from experience not to meet with the police without representation.
“It’s not really about this case,” Sergeant Detree said.
Not really about this case? Was Lucy Detree setting her up? Was she trying to get her to talk without a lawyer? Sabrina wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to be naive, but she also didn’t want to appear uncooperative. Sabrina struggled whenever asked to choose between being a compliant “good girl” or one who knew how to watch out for herself, especially when the line blurred and her survival was linked to her acquiescence to authority. Lucy Detree saved her from herself.
“Look, you can decline to answer any question you’d like until you get a lawyer. I’m just looking for your help.”
“When do I have to come to the station?” Sabrina asked.
“You don’t. Meet me at Villa Nirvana in an hour,” Detree said, hanging up before Sabrina had a chance to respond.
Sabrina dropped Girlfriend off at Henry’s condo where she would be cool in the air conditioning. Next, she stopped by Little Olive’s food truck to grab a grilled pesto and cheese panini and a lemonade to fortify herself before the appointment.
She drove to Hawksnest Beach, where she miraculously found an empty parking spot. Sabrina took her sandwich and headed for the shade under the pavilion, looking for a brief respite from the Keating saga, only to stumble upon Jack and Paul sitting at a picnic table littered with cell phones, lined yellow legal pads, and a number of empty cans of Carib beer.
“Hey, Sabrina. Come join us,” Jack said, waving her over to their table. So much for a moment of quiet reflection. Sabrina trudged over, placing her sandwich and drink on the table.
“Looks like corporate headquarters, Caribbean-style.”
“We were just trying to connect with the corporate lawyers to see what they recommend about whether we need representation during our interviews with the police,” Jack said. Sabrina could see him eyeing her sandwich. She was starving, even though she had breakfast, but remembered her manners. Ruth had taught her you should always thin the soup for a friend. The Keatings weren’t exactly friends, but they were her guests. She took her jackknife off the small tool belt she always wore and cut it into three wedges.
“Here, try a bite of my sandwich. So what did the corporate lawyers say?”
“That they would be happy to come down for a week or two and help us sort it out,” Paul said, laughing and shaking his head at the same time.
“This is really good,” Jack grinned as a dab of cheese slid down his chin.
“Seriously?” Sabrina asked, handing Jack a napkin. She pictured a team of demanding, uptight corporate lawyers housed at Villa Nirvana. The prospect renewed her annoyance at Henry and his insistence they take on the villa, which she never wanted to step into again. But then she remembered that if Detective Hodge had his way, she never would have to deal with Villa Nirvana or any of their other ten villas again.
“Actually, Gavin had already consulted with them. He authorized them to send a couple of criminal lawyers down here from New York. They’re also licensed in the Virgin Islands. This is going to cost the company a bundle,” Paul said.
“He shouldn’t be acting on his own like that. We’ve got to rein him in. He’s acting like we’re already retired, for crying out loud. Geez, we’ve got at least another three years before he gets to call the shots.” Jack took a sip of Carib.
“Yeah, well I doubt we’ll be able to retire even then, the way things are going. Can you picture Gavin and Sean running the company without Elena? Talk about oil and water,” Paul said, dabbing his mouth with the napkin Sabrina had provided. Even at a picnic table on a beach, he had a commanding presence as if he were sitting at the head of a conference table in a boardroom.
“Was Elena that important to the company? I thought she had only recently started working at Keating Construction,” Sabrina asked.
“She was bright enough, for sure. But the real value she brought was bringing balance to the company. And the ability to keep the peace between the brothers,” Paul said.
“She had the admiration of my older son, which doesn’t happen often, believe me. And she tamed my younger son, which is nothing short of a miracle, according to my wife.” Jack opened another can of Carib.
“Elena wasn’t like most women, if you’ll forgive me for saying. She had a keen sense of business, coupled with an emotional distance, which gave her objectivity. I never saw her be anything but calm and contemplative. Until that night when she became hysterical about the prenup,” Paul said.
“She totally lost it. It was like someone else had moved into her body. Bizarre,” Jack added.