Playing the Part. Kimberly Meter Van
slippers at Nordstrom. Lindy supposed rich kids were the same no matter the zip code.
“Well, that’s good. If she has cash, she’s probably blowing off some steam in the shops. I mean, isn’t shopping its own brand of therapy?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t particularly like to shop. That was my wife’s department,” he answered grimly.
Wife...likely a divorcé and he ended up picking the short straw with the kid this vacation. “So where’s the missus right now?”
“She passed away a year ago.”
Ouch. She bit her lip and the pink of shame heated her cheeks. “Oh. I’m sorry,” she said and actually meant it. She knew how it felt to lose a mother. With a pinch of conscience she grudgingly saw Carys in a different light. Maybe the kid was hurting and lashing out because she missed her mom and buttoned-up dad wasn’t cutting it in the emotional healing department. She skewed her gaze at Gabe and another apology hovered on her tongue. He started to veer toward the parking lot where his rented luxury car waited and she tugged at his magnolia-
covered shirt, gesturing for him to follow. “C’mon, I’ll drive. I know my way around and some of these roadways are tricky.”
He seemed poised to argue but thought better of it and followed her to the Jeep. They hopped in and after Lindy fished around under the seat for the spare key, they were rumbling out of the parking lot.
“Do you always keep the spare in the vehicle?” he asked, clearly a bit incredulous. “I mean, anyone could just take off with your vehicle.”
“They could but they don’t. It’s a private resort and everyone’s pretty honest.” She barked a laugh at a private memory. “We’ve only had one car thief in all the years we’ve owned Larimar,” she shared without shame. “And it was me. I took the Jeep and skipped off island to St. Thomas, where a few friends were having a party, and I didn’t come home until morning. In my defense, how was I supposed to know that the ferry didn’t run past 11:00 p.m.? I was grounded for a week after that escapade but it was worth it.”
He shook his head, not quite sure what to think of her. Lindy didn’t take it personally. She was a bit of an odd bird, so she’d been told. “Oh, come on, you mean to tell me you never did anything crazy when you were a kid?” she asked, trying to take his mind off his daughter and ease the frown on his face.
He exhaled a short breath as if he was wise to her attempt but he answered with a short shrug. “I guess. But it feels a whole lot different when it’s your kid doing the crazy stuff.”
She bit her lip, her smile fading. Yeah, she supposed that was true. Now she wished she hadn’t tried to make light of the situation. “We’ll find her. It’ll be okay,” she said. “I grew up here and it’s pretty safe. Almost boring. In fact, in St. Thomas they call St. John St. Yawn if that tells you anything.”
“She’s only eleven,” he reminded her.
“Yes, but something tells me she’s pretty damn resourceful, even for an eleven-year-old. Am I right?”
At that he nodded grudgingly, rubbing the skin above his brows. “Yeah. I guess you could say that. She can be a bit precocious.”
“Yeah,” Lindy agreed. “I recognize it. That’s how I was, too. My grandmother had her hands full with me, but I turned out pretty well, so likely she will, too.”
They drove into the plaza where the shops converged in a marketplace hub and Lindy grabbed the first parking space she could find, sliding into a tight spot that barely qualified as legal. Gabe looked uneasy at her parking job but she simply hopped out and waited for him to follow. She waved away his concern. “I know it looks illegal but it’ll be fine. Besides, we’ll be gone before anyone starts to raise a fuss. Trust me,” she said, scanning the plaza. Several tourists were snapping pictures of an iguana lazing on a tree branch at eye level until he tired of the attention and lumbered farther up the tree. Lindy turned to Gabe. “Let’s split up. We’ll cover more ground if we do. You take the upstairs shops and I’ll take the bottom level. We’ll come back to this spot in thirty minutes. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said and struck out, his pace brisk. She blew out a short breath and focused on where an eleven-year-old kid would likely want to hang out. The shops in this plaza were mostly geared toward tourists and she doubted the kid was looking to buy a coffee mug or T-shirt. Lindy closed her eyes and thought hard. If she were a kid with money at her disposal and she was so angry and hurt that she just ran away, where would she go?
Off island. The answer seemed simple enough. A rich kid with resources and enough savvy was going to try to find a way off the island, possibly to purchase a plane ticket in St. Thomas to fly back to wherever she came from. Knowing Carys, the kid probably knew her way around a terminal. The wealthy were usually well traveled; some kids in L.A. were bicoastal with divorced parents so a plane ride was as natural as hitching a cab in New York.
Lindy jogged to the marina and began scanning. She spied her old friend Billy Janks, unloading scuba gear from his charter. She waved and grinned when his dark brown face split into an easy smile.
“Yah a sight for sore eyes,” he exclaimed when she stepped aboard and gave him a fierce hug. “Heath told me yah were here but I couldn’t believe yah left all dat Hollywood glamour for little ol’ St. John.”
“I didn’t leave permanently,” Lindy said, smiling. “Just a little break until things get more settled with Larimar.” She admired his beautiful boat. “Man, you’ve come a long way. I remember when you were just a snot-nosed island kid like the rest of us. Now you own your own charter company? That’s damn sweet, Billy.”
He grinned and nodded. “Saving up for yah to make me an honest mon, sweet.”
Lindy laughed. “As if I’d keep you from all the ladies who want a piece of that dark island candy,” she teased. “I’d never be able to live with myself if I kept you all to myself.”
“True dat,” he said, laughter in his voice. “So what da real reason yah here? Come for a ride?”
She shook her head. “No. Unfortunately not. But I’ll take a rain check on that, though. Actually, I was wondering if you saw a little imp of a girl come through looking to pay someone to ferry her to St. Thomas. She has serious cash but she’s only about eleven.”
Billy sobered and nodded. “She came tru here about fifteen minutes ago. I told her to go home. She plenty mad when I say dat. I tole her to cool off with a cold drink at the boathouse.”
“Thanks, Billy,” Lindy said, relieved. At least Carys hadn’t found a way off island yet. She waved at Billy and headed toward the boathouse. She stepped inside and spotted Carys immediately. She was trying to haggle with a captain Lindy didn’t know.
“I have cash,” she said, her small face gathering into a dark scowl. “What’s the problem? I’ll even pay you more than the trip is worth! I mean, you’d be stupid to pass up a deal like that!”
Lindy could tell the kid was about to get tossed into the water headfirst by the annoyed captain and for a split second, Lindy was tempted to let him. The kid deserved that and more, but in the end, not even Lindy could allow herself to let that happen.
“C’mon, kid, your dad is worried about you,” she said, startling Carys until she saw it was Lindy, then her face screwed into a fierce glower. “I know, I know, you’re mad. You can be mad in the car. Your dad is about to turn this whole island upside down to find you and you can’t even comprehend how that will make my life hell and I think you’ve done enough of that for one day.”
“My dad doesn’t care,” Carys shot back, but there was a slight tremble to her lip that gave her away. Beneath all that bravado and bad attitude, the kid was hurting. Lindy sighed and wondered why she had to be the one to see it first.
“You know he does so let’s stop with the games and the lies.” Lindy drew Carys away from the clump of island natives