Deadly Gift

“Take Caer. Amanda is going shopping, and I can stay with Dad. It will give her a chance to see a bit of town, not to mention get a sense of what this family’s all about—and to understand that she’s going to pretty much have to leash Dad to keep him from trying to get back out on the water.”

 

 

Sean looked at his daughter impatiently. “I’m obeying every word the doctors said, young lady. And my stomach is right as rain now, by the way.”

 

“But you put a lot of pressure on your heart, and your blood pressure soared off the charts,” Kat said.

 

“True enough,” Sean agreed—surprisingly easily, Zach thought. “By all means, Zach, give the girl a chance to get out.”

 

“I’ll wait for you out front,” Detective Morrissey said.

 

Sean stood. Kat moved closer to take his arm, and he started to protest, but he loved his daughter, and Zach saw his features soften as he let her lead him out.

 

“Zach, you can take my BMW and follow Detective Morrissey with Miss Cavannaugh. That way, he won’t need to bring you back here.”

 

Zach’s coat was hanging in one of the closets by the mudroom that led from the kitchen to the garage. The mudroom had been part of the house before any of the more modern renovations had been done, and it retained its charm, with black and white tiles and etched glass.

 

He donned his coat, then waited impatiently by the door for Caer.

 

She appeared a few minutes later. He wondered if he looked annoyed, because she hesitated when she approached him. “I’m sorry. Apparently everyone thinks I need to get out and see my surroundings,” she told him.

 

He nodded briefly. “Where’s everyone else?”

 

“Bridey is still in her room, and Amanda hasn’t appeared yet, but Kat says she’ll be going out shopping when Bridey gets up.” She hesitated again.

 

He smiled. “And Kat thinks this is a safe time for you to go out, because she’ll be with her father and can keep him safe from Amanda,” he said flatly.

 

She shrugged. “Yes.”

 

“All right, let’s go.”

 

She looked out the window as he drove, but her expression gave away nothing. Newport had once been a haven for the filthy rich. But, as always, where there were filthy rich, there were those who had to serve them, so once the city had been a place of economic extremes. That had changed with the advent of the federal income tax, and now the population, like that of most cities, represented a continuum of financial where-withal. Most of the mansions were now owned and maintained by the Preservation Society of Newport County, and were open to the public for a fee. Tourists flocked into the area, even in winter—or maybe especially in winter—to see the way the other half once lived and to enjoy the events the Preservation Society sponsored.

 

Though the O’Riley house sat high up on a cliff, the offices were at the wharf, where the charter boats could come and go in the comparative calm of the inlet.

 

When he reached the wharf, he drove into a parking space marked O’Riley, then watched Caer as she emerged from the car. The breeze took hold of her hair and swept it lightly around her face. She seemed to love the feel of it, and to enjoy the sight of the many boats in their berths. There were other charter businesses besides O’Riley’s, but Sean had the best setup, an old Victorian-style office on a spit of land between docks, with old wooden steps leading up to the front door. The other rental offices were much smaller, some of them just one-person shacks with windows.

 

The parking lot paralleled much of the waterfront, with a restaurant at the far end, where the docks ended and a sweep of granite rose up from the sea, and they were surrounded by other businesses, all of which were tourist oriented. The Lucky Whale advertised seaside souvenirs, while Narragansett Niceties boasted the finest in New England art. A nearby chowder house claimed to have the world’s best clam chowder to eat in or take out. Caer stood for a long moment and simply observed it all.

 

He saw that Detective Morrissey was waiting for them on the dock next to the O’Riley’s Charters office.

 

“Come on, I’ll take you into the office. You can hang out there while I’m talking to Detective Morrissey.”

 

“No problem,” she said.

 

He walked her up the steps to the office and opened the door. Cal was at a desk, doing paperwork, and Marni was dusting the cases holding some of the treasures Sean had found over the years: a sextant from the sixteen-hundreds, the anchor from a long-gone whaler, a display of early American coins, and more. She stopped when she saw them and offered a broad smile, but once again, Zach thought, it didn’t seem real.

 

“Well, hello,” she said, walking over to give Zach a kiss on the cheek and nodding at Caer.