Chapter 10
Julien didn’t know what to make of Hannah.
As he filled his plate from the buffet at the wake, he kept tabs on her, watching her as she watched the crowd, a glass of red wine in her right hand.
She seemed focused and ill at ease but not in a way that suggested she was family to Thomas Bard.
In fact, the minute Hannah told Julien that she was Thomas’s second cousin, Julien knew not to trust it.
Thomas Bard didn’t have family on Nantucket. Everyone knew that.
But Julien couldn’t begin to figure out what Hannah’s angle was.
He believed that she was from Florida. She certainly wasn’t from around here, and Florida could fit the bill, given her sun-kissed glow.
It wasn’t common for people like Hannah to up and move to Nantucket without family connections, without knowledge of the rainy, chilly spring that awaited them.
From the look of things, Hannah seemed frozen and underdressed on their walk to the wake.
At that moment, Natalie Johnson approached Hannah with a grim expression. In low tones that Julien couldn’t make out, she said something to Hannah. Hannah smiled sweetly back. But it was clear they knew each other. This intrigued Julien all the more.
With a bravery that he didn’t fully understand, Julien took his plate of food over to Natalie and Hannah to say hello. Natalie’s strained expression fixed itself, although it was clear that she didn’t feel she needed to impress the harbor master. “Julien, hello,” she said.
“Hi there.” Julien had never liked Natalie; she was a wannabe, a wealthy person who wanted to show off all she had. Sure, there were plenty of people like that on Nantucket, but they weren’t Julien’s type. “I see you’ve met my new friend.”
Natalie gave Hannah a bug-eyed look. “Funny. We’re old friends from college. I was just asking Hannah how she knew Thomas. You know, Thomas was quite close to my husband.”
“I invited Hannah to come with me,” Julien lied.
Hannah gave him a funny look, one that carried numerous meanings. He’d caught her in her lie about being Thomas’s cousin, but he also decided to cover for her. Why was he doing that? He didn’t know.
“You know how these things are,” Julien went on. “I feel awkward in groups. But I wanted to honor Thomas as best as I could.”
Natalie continued to frown. “You were there. That last night at the city council meeting. I remember. You stood up and spoke.”
Julien raised his shoulders. “A lot of people spoke that night.”
“Thomas had a lot to say,” Natalie said, flaring her nostrils.
“I really am sorry for your loss,” Hannah interjected. Her lips were tinged red from the wine.
Natalie gave her a befuddled look, then muttered something about needing a glass of wine herself. She left Julien and Hannah behind, flipping her hair.
Hannah peered up at Julien, as though he mystified her. Julien wasn’t sure if he liked all this attention. She reached out to touch his shoulder, then seemed to think better of it.
“Thank you,” she said.
Julien took a bite of potato salad, then offered her his plate and watched as she took a bite, as well. While she ate, he grabbed a glass of wine and raised it. “It isn’t my business why you’re here. Nothing’s my business, minus what goes on at the docks.”
“You’re the harbor master,” Hannah said with a smile. “I’ve never met a harbor master before.”
Julien laughed gently. “And what kind of work do you do?”
“I’m an investigative journalist,” Hannah said under her breath. “At least, I was.”
“Back in Florida?”
Hannah nodded, blushing. “I published the greatest story of my career, and my life blew up in my face.”
Julien couldn’t fully fathom that.
“My daughter hates me. No one will hire me,” Hannah continued. “And look at me now? I’m sniffing around where I don’t belong, all because I don’t have anything better to do.”
“It’s good wine, though,” Julien said.
Hannah’s eyes glowed with laughter. If Julien wasn’t mistaken, he thought she was on the verge of tears, too. Julien couldn’t wrap his mind around her.
Hannah confessed she needed the bathroom, so she left Julien alone for a few minutes.
He’d lost his appetite, but he forced himself through a spicy chicken sandwich and drank a little more wine.
He willed himself to ask Hannah more questions when she got back.
It had been ages since he’d felt anything for a woman.
Maybe this could be a great experiment: a bit of flirtation, if only to remember that he was still alive.
But then, Eleanor Pike emerged through the crowd and headed right toward him. She moved quicker than her seventy-something frame should have allowed, and she still had on that wide-brimmed hat, which meant that everyone had to keep their distance. Julien’s heart thumped.
He hated to admit he was afraid of her.
“Julien, hello,” Eleanor said, her dark eyebrows high.
“Hello, Ms. Pike.”
“Who was that you were talking to?” Eleanor asked. “I don’t recognize her.”
Julien knew better than to suggest that Hannah was Thomas’s second cousin. Eleanor would see right through that lie, just as Julien had.
Before he could come up with a response, Eleanor asked, “Is it true that you’re dating her?”
Julien wanted to laugh. “It’s not true.”
Eleanor gave him a look that meant she didn’t believe him. “It’s good that you’re getting out there again, after everything that happened. Honestly, you deserve it, honey.”
Julien knew better than to show how he really felt about this. He took a sip of wine.
“The rumor is that her career isn’t entirely tasteful,” Eleanor offered.
Of course, Eleanor knew more than she’d initially let on. Julien didn’t know why he was surprised.
“It sounds to me like she’s unemployed,” Julien said.
“So you know her situation?” Eleanor asked.
“Not really,” Julien said. “But you know me, Eleanor. I’m not entirely keen on conversation.”
Eleanor laughed, a menacing laugh. “Tell me she’s on her way off our island, Julien?”
“I don’t know how long she plans to stay. I also don’t know why that’s any of your business,” Julien said.
Eleanor clutched her hands together, long, bony fingers that reminded Julien of spider legs. “I’d like to ask you a favor, darling Julien.”
Julien remained quiet. This wasn’t the first time Eleanor had asked him for a favor.
“Stay close to the new girl, won’t you?” Eleanor asked.
“Get to know her for us. I can’t imagine she’s here to harm us.
I imagine she wants to build community and help her daughter get through high school, and maybe, I don’t know, find love again.
But if she gets too close, we need to know. And it looks as though she trusts you.”
Julien kept his lips in a thin line. Eleanor touched his elbow. At that moment, Julien was ripped back through time to childhood. Eleanor had a similar grip on his life back then. Her power was oppressive, never-ending. Sometimes Julien thought it would be impossible for her to die.
“Remember, Julien.” Eleanor’s lips thinned. “You owe us.”
Julien was smart enough not to ask how much longer he’d owe them. He let his chin drop down a half inch, enough for Eleanor to understand his agreement. Eleanor turned and drifted back through the crowd, leaving Julien on his own again.
Julien needed another glass of wine, and stat.
Hannah returned a minute later, all smiles.
Julien could tell that Hannah hadn’t learned anything about Nantucket and its secrets, not from the funeral and not from this wake.
He half regretted telling her about the city council meeting, but he hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind, and it felt good to talk about it.
“That woman really knows how to wear a hat,” Hannah said of Eleanor as Eleanor and her two friends glided past. “I wish I could say the same about me. I always look like I’m wearing a costume.”
Julien wanted to tell Hannah that, in fact, Eleanor Pike was wearing a costume, as were they all.
That was what life was sometimes. It was made up of a bunch of people, pretending to be adults, pretending to make the world go round.
But time would always go on without them, regardless of their secrets, regardless of Nantucket and its laws.
Julien knew he needed to stay away from Hannah, if only to keep her safe from Eleanor. But one smile from Hannah told him that that would be difficult. His heart was already writing a different story. He told himself to hold on tight.