The High Tide Club

“In other words, he was mega-rich,” Felicia said.

“I suppose.” Josephine tugged the afghan on her lap, drawing it up to her shoulders. The room was suffocating, with only the box fan droning away in an open window, and everybody except the hostess dabbed at the perspiration on their faces.

“She met Russell at Ruth’s coming-out party in Newport.” Josephine’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “He cut quite the figure in white tie and tails. He was tall and rangy. Broad shoulders, dark hair, and the most arresting deep blue eyes. What we used to call matinee idol looks. He had buckets of money, and he threw it around like it was water. Anyway, he swept Millie off her feet—or rather, he swept Millie’s mother and grandmother off their feet.”

Marie’s brow puckered. “He doesn’t sound like Mama’s type at all.”

“No. Forgive me, dear Marie, but he was rich, which meant that he was your grandmother’s type. By then, Millie had dropped out of college. Her mother didn’t see the point of spending money on educating a girl, and anyway, Russell was in hot pursuit.”

Felicia fanned herself with her hands and yawned. “Can we cut to the chase, please? Like, how did this Russell Strickland just up and disappear?”

Josephine fixed Varina’s great-niece with an icy glare. “I was getting to that.”

“Russell proposed, and Millie accepted,” Josephine said. “At first, Ruth and I were happy for her. But then, the more we saw of him, the less we liked. He was loud and could be very intimidating. He was so possessive of Millie. Jealous, especially of her friendship with us, and he drank too much. And when he drank, he was mean. Abusive, we’d call it now.

“The wedding was set for November. Of 1941. Ruth and I were to be bridesmaids. Papa was so fond of Millie. He thought we should give an engagement party for her. Here on the island.”

“Not back in Boston?” Lizzie asked.

“No. My mother had passed away the previous year, and Papa was devastated. He loved Talisa and spent as much time here as possible, especially after Mama was gone. So we planned the party. We brought in an orchestra from Jacksonville and the best caterer in Atlanta. It was the social event of the season. White orchids and gardenias flown in from Miami. The ballroom looked like a fairy tale.”

“There’s a ballroom?” Felicia asked incredulously. “Here?”

Josephine seemed not to have heard her. “Millie looked so beautiful that night. She had a couture gown, flowers in her hair. We all had new dresses.” She looked over at Varina and smiled. “Even Varina.”

“Oh yes,” Varina said dreamily. “Josephine gave me a dress, pink, the nicest thing I’d ever owned. And Millie gave me those pretty shoes to match.”

“You were invited to the party?” Felicia looked dubious. “In the Jim Crow South? In 1941?”

“Not exactly,” Varina said.

“We wanted her to come, but my father thought it wasn’t the right thing,” Josephine said. “Remember, she was only fourteen at the time.”

“And black,” Felicia said.

“I was getting paid to work in the kitchen that night,” Varina said. “But the girls, they knew what a special night it was for all of us, and they wanted me to be all dressed up, to be a part of it.”

“Before Cinderella’s coach turned into a pumpkin,” Felicia said caustically.

Brooke glanced down at her watch. It was getting late, and Josephine’s narrative about the party was close to being derailed. She needed to nudge things along.

“What happened at the party?” she asked.

“Russell had been drinking all night with his fraternity brothers who’d come down for the party. And not just champagne. They were out on the veranda, passing a flask around. Poor Millie, he never even danced with her. She was a wallflower at her own engagement party. So Papa asked Gardiner, my brother, to dance with her. It was totally harmless. Gardiner had known Millie for years. She was like a kid sister to him. Unfortunately, Russell came into the ballroom, saw them dancing together, and there was an incident.”

“You mean, like a fight?” Lizzie was clearly intrigued.

“Not there in the ballroom. Even Russell Strickland wasn’t that gauche. He said something to Gardiner—I couldn’t hear what—then he grabbed Millie by the arm and dragged her out of the ballroom.”

“Poor Mama,” Marie said. “She must have been terrified.”

30

There was a soft knock at the library door, then Louette poked her head inside. “Miss Josephine, sorry to interrupt, but I need to let these ladies know that I finally tracked down C. D. He says the water pump on the boat motor is broke.”

“What does that mean?” Brooke asked. From the expression on Louette’s face, Brooke had a feeling that this was not good news.

“Too late to do anything about it today. He’ll have to go on up to Brunswick tomorrow to try to get a new one,” Louette said.

Brooke glanced again at her watch. It was nearly five o’clock. “If he can’t take us back to the mainland, can we take the ferry?”

“Afraid not. I called the office, and they said the whole boat is booked with some folks who’ve been up at the conference center for a two-day corporate retreat. Not even a single seat is available.”

“Is there another boat on the island—one we could charter to take us back?” Gabe asked, half standing.

“Not one you’d want to get on,” Louette said. “A few folks at Oyster Bluff have boats, but they’re just little bitty wooden bateaux for fishing in the creek. I’m sorry, but it looks like you’ll have to stay over tonight.”

Gabe sank back down onto the chair and pulled out his phone. “I’m supposed to take a deposition in the morning. I need to call the office.”

Brooke took her phone from her pocketbook and glanced down at the screen. As she’d feared, it read, NO SERVICE.

“Don’t bother,” she told Gabe. “Cell phone reception is almost nonexistent over here.”

“So what do we do?” he asked, annoyed. “I really have a busy day tomorrow. Not to mention a dog at home who needs to be let out and fed.”

“And I’ve got to call my babysitter and let her know I’m stuck over here,” Brooke added. “I just pray she’ll agree to spend the night with Henry.”

“Come on out to the kitchen. You can use the landline there,” the housekeeper offered.

As they followed Louette down the hall, Gabe checked his phone one more time. “You’d better believe I’m billing Josephine if I have to spend the night.”

Which made Brooke laugh despite her worry over childcare arrangements. “Good idea. I’ll bill her for the cost of my babysitter, assuming Farrah will stay.”

* * *

“Is everything okay?” Marie asked when Brooke and Gabe returned to the library.

“As good as can be expected,” Brooke said, sitting down again. “Thank God, Farrah broke up with her loser boyfriend, Jaxson, today. She’s usually not available to sit on Friday nights. She volunteered to take Henry out for pizza, and then they have a date with some LEGOs.”

“I got a neighbor to feed and walk my dog,” Gabe reported. “And I arranged for my paralegal to handle the deposition.”