Shelter in Place (Page 50)

“I said okay, fine, I could think of it as an investment, rent it out, take some vacation time there. Because a cop has to live where he works, and I need to be a cop. But the thing is, I don’t want to rent it out.”

“Reed, please tell me you’re not going for an island deputy job. You’re an investigator. You’re—”

“No, not a deputy.”

“Then what the hell?”

“Chief of police.”

“You—” She stopped, let out a whoosh of air. “Seriously?”

“I don’t have it yet. The island council has to vote and all that. But I did an interview—a couple of them. And I wrote up a résumé. They’re going to call you, Bull, the lieutenant pretty soon. If I don’t get it … I’m young, not from the island—those are strikes against me. I’m a police detective with a few years under my belt, a good closed-case history, who’s already got a contract on a house there. Those are pluses for me. And the big guns? CiCi. So I rate my chances at about seventy-thirty.”

She sat awhile, saying nothing, working through it. “You want it.”

“Downside? Farther away from the family than they’re going to like. And not working with you. Not being able to drop by, see you and Hank and Dylan, and mooch a meal. I’m hoping to offset that by having you guys come and hang out. Because, yeah, I want it. I want it because I found things I needed there. And because I think I could do good work. I want it because I’ll have the time and space, especially in the fall and winter, to work Hobart. I can’t be a cop, look at myself in the mirror, and not work Hobart.”

“I hate this.” She pushed herself off the bench, walked toward the bay and back. “I just hate it.”

“Essie—”

She threw up a hand to stop him as he rose. “I hate it because it feels right for you. It just feels like the right thing. And I’m going to miss you dropping by to mooch a meal. I’ll miss working cases with you.”

“It feels right?”

“Yeah, it does. When would you leave?”

“I don’t have the job yet.”

“You’re going to get it.” It felt too right for otherwise. “When would you leave?”

“Not until after the first of the year. The current chief’s leaving in March—see, he told CiCi, hadn’t even told the council yet. It all just slid into place.”

“Chief Quartermaine.” She shook her head. “Isn’t that a kick in the ass?”

He felt that kick ten days later when he formally accepted the job as chief of police of Tranquility Island.

* * *

In the spirit of fence mending, Simone agreed to a fancy girls’ lunch at her mother’s country club. She’d have preferred spending the blustery November afternoon in her studio, but her relationship with Natalie had improved.

Natalie wanted the lunch, and pushed. So here they were, eating elaborate salads, drinking Kir Royales, and making chitchat about a wedding that was still nearly a year off.

She’d already gotten her mother’s eye for the short, shaggy do in a color her adventurous hairdresser dubbed Burning Embers. But the fact that Tulip held her tongue, for once, helped keep the interlude civilized.

Besides, she couldn’t deny she’d chosen the over-the-knee boots, suede pants, and a bold green leather jacket to push her mother’s buttons.

In any case, she liked seeing Natalie so happy, even if a lot of it stemmed from debates on wedding dress designs and wedding colors.

When she felt her mind melting over the perfect signature drink for a fall wedding, she steered the conversation toward the house Natalie and Harry had just purchased.

“So the new house. That’s exciting. When will you be ready to move in?”

“There’s certainly no rush,” Tulip began. “Especially with all the holiday festivities coming up. Simone, you really must attend the Snowflake Ball next month. My friend Mindy’s son Triston’s coming in from Boston for Christmas, and I’m sure he’d be happy to escort you.”

“Yes.” Glowing, happy, Natalie all but bounced in her seat. “You could double-date with Harry and me!”

Under the table, Simone gave Natalie’s leg a quick, firm squeeze.

“My calendar’s already full, Mom, but thanks for the thought. About the house—”

“For once I’d like to have my whole family present at an event that’s important to me.”

Simone picked up her glass, took a careful sip of a drink that struck her as too sweet and silly. “I know the Snowflake Ball’s important to you. So’s the Winter Gala, the Spring Ball, the Summer Jubilee in July, and so forth. I’ve come to several of them over the last few years.”

“You haven’t once come to the Jubilee, and we raise money for the arts with the proceeds.”

“It’s a bad time of year for me, Mom.”

Tulip started to speak, then looked away. “It helps to do something positive.”

“I know, and I do. For me. I really want to hear about the house.”

“Haven’t you hidden yourself away on the island long enough? If you’re not there, you’re off somewhere else. You’re never going to create a social network or meet someone as wonderful as Harry on that island.”

Here we go again, Simone thought. “I have the social network I want, and I’m not looking for someone like Harry. And he is wonderful,” Simone added with a smile for Natalie. “Mom,” she said before Tulip could speak again. “Let’s talk about things we can agree on. Like how happy Natalie is, what a wonderful wedding she’ll have. How fabulous her new house is.”

“About the wedding—again,” Natalie said, so obviously trying to right the ship, Simone gave her knee another squeeze, a grateful one. “Will you be my maid of honor?”

It surprised her, touched her, and both showed on her face. “Nat, I’m so honored. Really. It means so much to me you’d ask, and if it’s what you truly want, of course I will. But…”

Now she took Natalie’s hand on the white tablecloth. “Cerise has been your best friend for a decade. The two of you are so close, and she knows exactly what you want for your wedding. She’ll know how to make it happen for you. She should be your maid of honor.”

“People will expect—”

Simone looked at her mother, so fast, so fierce, the rest of the words died. “What matters is what Natalie wants. Ask Cerise, and let me do something special for you instead.”

“I don’t want you to feel slighted. You’re my sister.”

“I won’t. I don’t. I’d like you to have Cerise stand for you. I’d like to make the topper for your cake. I’d like to do a sculpture of you and Harry. Something you’d keep to remember the biggest day of your lives. Something that shows not only how happy you were on that day, but how happy I am for you.”

“We’ve already started looking at cake designs and toppers,” Tulip pointed out.

“Mom.” Natalie reached for her mother’s hand, effectively joining the three women together. “I would love it. Honestly, I’d just love it. Could you do something fun for the groom’s cake? Like Harry putting on a golf green, or swinging on the tee?”

“Absolutely. You get me the cake designs once you have them. And when you have your dress, I’ll do some sketches and photos—same with Harry when he’s got his groom clothes. We can brainstorm ideas for the groom’s cake if you want, but the wedding topper’s going to be a surprise.”