“Emma! It’s so nice to see you.”
Holly Vaccaro could not be more different from my mother if she tried. Mom was petite, golden-haired, blue-eyed. A peaches and cream complexion. She always spoke gently, her voice lilting like music. Yet at her core was solid steel, evidenced by how hard she’d worked to build a thriving business.
The woman in front of me, a woman who had not yet celebrated her fortieth birthday, was tall and willowy. Olive skinned, with riotous black curls and big, dark eyes. She’d grown up on Staten Island and spoke with a stereotypical twang in her voice. You became yah, for instance. It’s so nice to see yah.
Still, she seemed genuine, stepping back from the open door and waving an arm to invite me inside. “Come on in! Your dad’s back in the den. He told me you were stopping by. I’m so sorry to hear about what happened with your friend.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” The house they shared was smaller than the one I grew up in, which Mom still owned. It was closer to the beach, too, and decorated in a bright, breezy theme fitting its location. Lots of blues, tans, a hint of pink and grey. Tasteful, if a little kitschy with all the seashells and lighthouses.
Dad had always loved lighthouses.
She lowered her voice, holding one hand up to the side of her mouth like she was telling me a secret. I couldn’t help but take note of the blood red nails that looked like they had been freshly manicured, and the seven or eight bracelets she wore on one wrist. “I bet some of the old gossips around here hounded you for days, didn’t they?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, they did. And still are,” I groaned. “It’s been a week, for sure.”
We came to a stop in the kitchen, where Holly offered something to drink or a snack. “Maybe you could come by for dinner sometime? I always make a pot of gravy on Sundays. I love having it left over in the freezer, but it would be nice to have some more people to eat it with us on Sunday night.”
It occurred to me then that Holly might be a little lonely. It probably wasn’t easy, coming into Dad’s life when most of the town knew everybody else’s business. Everybody was aware of and shocked by my parents’ divorce when it happened. Not only because there had never been a hint of trouble between them, but because they’d been married for twenty-five years before divorce was even hinted at. It wasn’t common for a marriage to last that long, only to end so suddenly.
I suspected Holly received more than her share of side-eye and catty whispers as she went about her grocery shopping. From what I understood, she was a successful interior designer, an entrepreneur in her own right. And she could probably hold her own when it came to standing up for herself.
That was the thing. Nobody in town would come right out and tell her they thought she was a homewrecker. Even if she wasn’t, even if she hadn’t entered Dad’s life until well after the divorce was finalized. They would be civil to her face, but nothing more than that. She couldn’t curse them out and tell them what she really thought of them when they weren't outright hostile.
Instead, she had to take it with a smile for Dad’s sake. And I believed she would, all for him. She deserved a little friendship. “I would love to. I really would. I’ll have to see if I can make it… maybe next weekend?”
And she looked so happy, too. But what she said next really struck me. “I know that would make your father so happy,” she whispered.
I was struck with the impulse to hug her, and I did. She squeezed me back, and that felt good. I only wished Darcy would come around. It was easier to let go of grudges.
Dad must’ve heard our voices and decided he didn’t feel like waiting for me. “I got a call from a certain detective in Paradise City earlier today,” he announced in a growl. “Can you guess what it was about?”
I winced, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “You might’ve mentioned that when I called you.”
“No, I didn’t want to give you an excuse not to show up. You need to be set straight, young lady, and I didn’t want you to get out of it.”
“She only thinks she’s doing what’s right,” Holly argued on my behalf, though in a gentle voice. “Just like you would if you were in her place.”
“No offense, sweetheart, but this is between Emma and me. I told her in no uncertain terms that I didn’t want her getting involved in this, and what does she do?” He turned to me, his face stormy. “She gets herself caught lurking around outside the resort in the dead of night!”
“I was only there to see if I could—”
He held up a hand. “Spare me the explanation. Besides, Sullivan told me all about that himself. Emma, leave it alone. Nobody needs you to be involved in this. The investigation is proceeding the way investigations proceed. End of story.”
“Just tell me one thing, please. The reason I called you today in the first place, the reason I came over. Did you ever look at any of the contracts between James Flynn and his other partners here in Cape Hope? He must’ve had partners, didn’t he? Like when he wanted to open the big shopping center that ended up not going anywhere. Remember that?”
Dad looked pained when he nodded. Like he didn’t want to admit anything but couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, I remember. Of course.”
“He was partnered up with a few other people in town, wasn’t he? He certainly wasn’t funding it by himself. And he must’ve had some sort of contract with them, an agreement on file somewhere. Did you see any of those? Was there anything included in any of those papers that had to do with what would happen to the partnership in the event that something befell one of the partners? Like an accident or death or illness or something?”
“Most contracts include something like that, sweetie. That’s nothing new. If something happens to one of the partners, the others don’t want to be left in the lurch.”
“Yeah, but something about this doesn’t sit right with me. Is it common for the entire ownership of a project or business or building or anything like that to go straight into the hands of the other partner? Wouldn’t it go to the family? Into a trust? Something like that? Why would the other partner retain sole ownership?”
“That does seem like a pretty specific clause,” Holly agreed, looking up at Dad. “It’s one thing to make allowances in case of an unforeseen event, but…”
He leaned against the sink, looking troubled and more than a little put out by the two of us asking questions at once. “All right, all right. I’ll tell you one thing. Yes, all of James Flynn’s contracts had that clause attached.”
My heart soared. “Really? Then at least the police can’t say Robbie planned it all on his own.”
“Not so fast,” he was quick to counter. “Certainly, it proves it was not Chef Klein’s notion, transferring full ownership of the resort to him in the event of James’s death. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t plan this with that in mind. Do you see what I mean?”
Just like that, my heart sank again. “Right.”
“What about his other partners?” Holly asked.
“Hon, please.” His eyes widened when he stared at her, like he was trying to warn her not to get me started.
But it was too late. I was good and started now. “Yeah! What about those other partners? Did anything ever happen to them? You never did tell me what you found when you were investigating him. Why were you investigating him in the first place? What was it all about?”
“Believe me when I tell you, I have already given the information to the Paradise City Police Department. They are well aware of James Flynn’s business history. And if there’s anybody who needs to be spoken to, they will have spoken to them by now.”
“I haven’t spoken to them! And if any of them has any information that could help Robbie, it obviously hasn’t been enough to get him out of jail!”
I expected him to yell at me. Or to at least tell me again to mind my own business. Instead, he crossed the kitchen, lowering his hands to my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye. “I know. That’s my point. Nobody has information that’s enough to clear your friend of these charges.”
“They’re just not asking the right questions, that’s all.” I stared up at him, unblinking. “I will not believe he is guilty. I can’t. I know he didn’t do this.”
His head lowered, swinging back and forth. “I wish there was something I could say to get through to you. I just want you to prepare yourself for the very real possibility that Robbie is not going to be cleared of this.”
“Don’t you want to help him if he’s innocent? Don’t you care?”
“Sure, honey. I care. But I care more about you, and I see how worked up you are over this. It pains me, truly it does. You’re my daughter. You’re always going to come first.”
I leaned against him, heartsick and sad. Poor Robbie was in jail and I knew he didn’t do it. I was as certain as could be. “Do you think I could visit him?”
“I don’t know, honey.”
“Please, could you see?” There I was. The girl who got annoyed when anybody suggested she should listen to her father. Begging my father for help. “Maybe pull a few strings? You gave them all that information you’d put together down here, regarding James’s business records. They owe you one, don’t they?”
He chuckled. “It doesn’t work like that. Not really.”
“Oh, come on,” Holly insisted.
I had the feeling this was partially a ploy to get on my good side, but I was willing to accept all the help I could get. Besides, I’d never felt as strongly about her as Darcy had. The woman had a good heart, and she loved my dad. That was enough for me.
“How am I supposed to refuse you both?” he asked. I had the feeling he wasn’t as irritated as he pretended to be. Maybe he liked seeing the two of us on the same team. “All right. I’ll make a phone call. But don’t expect miracles.”
“I won’t,” I promised, even as my hopes soared.