Evil by the Sea. Kathleen Bridge
If, as you say, you’ll leave it to me?”
“And Betty.”
“And Betty. Now what’s his name again and the name of the witch group?” He took his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen, turned on the recorder, and held it up near Liz’s mouth.”
“Julian Rhodes. R-h-o-d-e-s. The Sunshine Wiccan Society. Jacksonville.”
He tapped the screen again and put his phone back in his pocket. “I’ll do what I can, but you realize we only have two days until they marry. Not a lot of time.”
She sidled up to him. “Not for the likes of you Mr. Private Eye, smartest guy I know, except maybe my dad.”
He laughed and kissed her. “What do I have to do to get in the top slot over Fenton?”
“Hmm…it’s getting close,” she said. “I would say you’re almost neck and neck.”
“Is that so? Then listen to me for a change. Let me do the research, you don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.”
She knew he was teasing when he said, “pretty little head,” but before she could think of a comeback, Kate Fields came rushing into the kitchen holding a large sequined mermaid’s tail the same color as Aunt Amelia’s eyeshadow palette. Kate wasn’t related to Liz’s great-aunt, but had been part of their lives since she and her father came to live at the Indialantic when Liz was five. That was over twenty-three years ago. She considered Kate her sister from another mother.
Kate’s face was flushed. She stopped, bent at the waist, and tried to catch her breath. When she stood, her long, shiny, chestnut ponytail swung from left to right. “You guys better get to the hotel pronto or you’ll miss the fireworks. It seems not only has the wedding party arrived. But someone else! And I don’t think Aunt Amelia knows what to do about it.”
Chapter 3
A few minutes later, Liz, Ryan, and Kate entered the Indialantic’s lobby through the revolving door to find a short man with his back facing them. He had light-brown hair and a ponytail almost as long as Kate’s. He wore a white gauzy tunic top, tan drawstring pants, and brown sandals. He was addressing a wisp of a pale, waiflike, blonde haired woman dressed in a faded cotton print dress with white short socks and sandals. She looked like she was out of time and just got done milking a cow on her family’s Amish farm. Liz knew she wasn’t Dorian’s daughter.
Phoebe and her brother Branson were sitting on one of the cushioned bamboo loveseats, looking like they were viewing a movie. Dorian stood next to them. They were focused on the couple in the center of the lobby. All they needed was a tub of popcorn and some Twizzlers.
Dorian’s son Branson was tall, clean-shaven, and dressed in casual business attire. He had dark short hair. It was clear with his lean body and muscular torso that he visited a gym on a regular basis. The only thing that stopped him from being male model perfect was his protruding chin sporting a dimple so large you could lose a dime in it.
Phoebe was thirty, her brother thirty-three. She looked nothing like her mother. Her face was full, but unlined. Her dull brown hair was cut in a chin length bob. A white cotton shirt hung loosely over baggy khaki capris. Liz guessed she’d recently lost weight. Phoebe’s eye color mirrored her older brother’s dark gray, but that was where their similarity ended.
Aunt Amelia was behind the hotel’s registration counter with Barnacle Bob perched on her right shoulder. Her gaze was also focused on the couple in the center of the room. Even BB seemed to be watching them.
Liz almost didn’t notice a medium-sized man with tons of red hair tufting out from everywhere, except the top of his head, slouched in a bamboo chair behind a potted palm. His silky patterned shirt was unbuttoned. Hanging from a chain around his neck was an oversized gold nugget that nestled on top of red chest hair. He wore a sly smile, like he knew a secret the rest of people in the room didn’t. Either that or he was really enjoying what was going on in front of him. She deduced the red haired man must be Garrett, Dorian’s financial advisor. He was too old to be her fiancé, which left the ponytail man to be Julian Rhodes. But who was the young woman?
“Surprised I’m here, cousin Julian?”
“Yes, I am surprised you’re here,” Julian said to the unidentified woman. There was a definite edge to his voice. “How did you find my location, Wren?”
The woman’s huge hazel eyes reminded Liz of those popular Keane paintings from the sixties of big eyed children. Aunt Amelia had been given one by the artist herself. She’d kept it on her sitting room wall until a young Liz made her take it down because she thought the child in the portrait’s eyes were following her.
There was one difference between the paintings and the woman in front of them; there was no sense of innocence in her eyes when she said, “What does it matter, cousin Julian, I’m here and I want to share in your big day. Do you have a problem with that?” She wasn’t angry, more like smug. “I missed you, cuz.” She put both hands on her tiny hips. Her blonde almost white long hair was in pigtails, resembling the actress who played Laura Ingalls Wilder on TV’s 1970s Little House on the Prairie.
Julian must have felt their stares from behind. He did an about face and raked his eyes over Liz, Kate, and Ryan. “Who are you? I told Dorian this was a bad idea. I was informed the hotel wasn’t open to the public. Are you with the press?”
Aunt Amelia looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she stammered, “Mr. Rhodes, I’d like you meet my great-niece Liz, her best friend Kate, and her boyfriend Ryan.”
As if a switch had been flipped, Julian smiled. His Caribbean-blue eyes seemed otherworldly in his tanned, angular face. He came over to them and took both of Liz’s hands in his, then gazed into her eyes. After a few awkward seconds, she forced herself to blink, jerking her hands away like she’d been zapped with a Taser. Then she quickly slipped her arm through Ryan’s. Julian pulled the same hypnotic routine on Kate. For once Kate was left speechless. Liz would ask Kate later if she’d felt the same reaction to Julian’s touch.
Ryan gave Liz a questioning gaze, then said to Julian, “Congrats on your upcoming marriage.” He extended his hand and they shook.
Julian didn’t have time to respond, because Dorian asked, “Julian, love, don’t you think we should move up to our suite? Your cousin should probably look for a nearby hotel to stay at.”
The way Dorian said, cousin, was very clear. Chalk it up to her being a psychic, or woman’s intuition, but Liz could tell Dorian didn’t believe the woman was her fiancé’s cousin. And neither did Liz.
Wren gave Dorian a piercing look before turning to Julian and saying, “Yes, cuz, it’s been a long day of travel. My bag is outside on the pavement. I’ve already checked in town. Everything is booked because of some mermaid festival.”
Dorian stepped to the center of the lobby and stood under the Lalique chandelier. “I’m sure there’s something in Vero Beach.”
Aunt Amelia came from behind the counter and stood next to Dorian. Barnacle Bob rode her shoulder like a pro. Addressing Julian, she said, “If you’ll give me a little time to get another suite cleaned out, there shouldn’t be a problem having your cousin stay here.” Then she turned to Wren. “I’ll have some finagling to do but rest assured things will be straightened out shortly.”
It was obvious Aunt Amelia had missed Dorian’s message of not wanting Wren to stay at the Indialantic. The hotel suites had been cleaned and aired out for the guests; which included Dorian, her fiancé Julian, Dorian’s financial adviser Garrett, and Dorian’s children. Julian wanted a small wedding and he was going to get one. The guest list hadn’t included anyone from Julian’s side of the family. She was just happy Aunt Amelia was starting small in her quest to turn the Indialantic into a destination venue. The last event at the hotel, the Literary New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball had been a success, with a slight glitch, as in a murder. Now, with the wedding, and the extra money