Chapter 22
That evening before her dinner with Eleanor Pike, her head still roiling with ideas about the Legacy Club and all she planned to do, Hannah drove out to the harbor to see Julien.
Long before he spotted her, she watched him from the boardwalk, her hands gripping the railing.
He looked utterly capable, the powerful foundation of everything that happened at the docks.
Workers hurried up to him, asked him questions, then scurried away, their faces relaxed after learning whatever he’d told them.
Hannah knew this was the kind of man worth her while.
But she had to tell him that tonight, she had plans.
Slowly, she walked toward him, aching with the memory of their kiss.
When she was fifteen feet away, he spotted her, and his face broke into a smile that surprised her.
She hadn’t expected that he’d show so much emotion on his “home turf,” so to speak.
A few of the other dock workers looked at him, then looked over at her, their own faces echoing shock.
Best of all, he approached her, then put her hands around her and hugged her, right there in front of everyone. Hannah’s heart floated into her throat.
“I didn’t expect you,” he said under his breath.
Hannah smiled. She didn’t want the hug to break.
She wanted to feel the warmth emanating from his chest, for all time.
But she had to get back to her car and drive to Eleanor Pike’s place.
She had to figure out what the woman wanted to say to her.
If Eleanor Pike wanted to “do away with her,” so to speak, Hannah had left Eleanor Pike’s name and address with a friend of hers who lived off the island.
A former newspaper colleague, she’d texted Hannah back: You always get yourself in messes.
Make sure you can get out of this one. Love you.
“I wanted to tell you in person that I won’t be home tonight,” Hannah said, fixing her face so that he wouldn’t suspect anything.
Julien’s shoulders drooped the slightest bit.
“That’s all right,” he said. “Really. I’ve been so busy at your place that I’ve neglected my own.
Someone has to do laundry at some point.
” He laughed in a way that demanded more dock workers look over at them, confused.
Julien usually wasn’t the laughing kind, apparently.
Not at work. Maybe not in normal life, either.
But things had changed since Hannah and Julien had met, Hannah knew. They’d changed for her, too.
“I want to go out to dinner tomorrow,” Hannah said, raising her chin.
“I want to get dressed up and maybe get ice cream and meet more Nantucketers. I’ve been sequestered in that house by myself, listening to the broken shutters rattle against the house.
I want to feel like I belong here.” She laughed, adding, “My daughter has many more friends than I do.”
“She’s a kid. She doesn’t know how hard it can be later,” Julien said.
Hannah smiled. She knew this was something that Julien didn’t believe, given his backstory. But it was something you were meant to say. “Text me, and we’ll make a plan,” she said, rising onto her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
Before she could chicken out, Hannah returned to her car and drove the eight minutes to Eleanor Pike’s place.
When her engine cut out, Hannah realized that her knees were clacking together.
That was how much she’d begun to shake. For a moment, she looked at the house—a Victorian that looked entirely haunted, painted a lavender color, with shutters in light gray.
It wasn’t as ritzy as many of the mansions on Nantucket, but it was foreboding.
When Hannah reached the porch steps, the front door opened to reveal that same older woman from the funeral, Eleanor Pike.
She looked like her penmanship—ornate and formidable, and she still wore all black, covering her arms and legs, despite the heat.
Without smiling, she gazed down at Hannah.
Only darkness lurked behind her, as though all the lights were off in her house, as though she had all the curtains drawn.
Hannah wasn’t the type to let herself be looked down upon like this.
She clonked up the steps and raised her chin to Eleanor.
“Good evening, Ms. Pike. I believe you’re expecting me?
” She wanted to point out to Eleanor that although Eleanor hadn’t written her name on the mysterious invitation, Hannah had figured her out.
She’d figured out a lot more than Eleanor would have liked her to know.
Hannah guessed she was there so Eleanor could figure out how much she knew.
“Hannah Moore,” Eleanor said. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“As does yours.” Hannah kept her smile professional and alert.
“Why don’t you come in?” Eleanor stepped back to let Hannah pass her into the chilly house, which was very dark but quite cozy, with antique furnishings and thick rugs.
Eleanor led her down the hall to a sitting room with a bay window that offered an exquisite view of the ocean.
It was the only window that didn’t have its curtains drawn.
Eleanor had already made them both martinis.
She handed one to Hannah, and they clinked glasses.
Hannah felt as though they were playing a game of chess, as though one wrong move would give Eleanor a checkmate.
The problem was that Eleanor knew everything about this island.
She knew all its stories much better than Hannah. Hannah was losing the game already.
“You have a lovely home,” Hannah said finally.
Eleanor’s laughter sparkled. She sat on a leather sofa and gestured for Hannah to sit across from her, in a matching armchair. Hannah did, ensuring her back remained straight, matching Eleanor’s. “I understand that you’ve moved into the old Kaiser place.”
“You must have. That’s where you sent the letter,” Hannah said.
Eleanor smiled. “Georgia loved that old place. When she left us, I thought we’d cleared everything out. Tell me. We didn’t catch everything, did we?”
“What do you mean?” Hannah asked. She wasn’t willing to show her hand like that.
Eleanor sipped her martini. “I suppose you know that I make it my business to know just about everything there is to know about Nantucketers, regardless of how long they’ve been here.
That’s how I know all about your storied career, and about your daughter, Minnie.
She’s adorable. Her relationship with Viggo is the cutest, isn’t it? We’ve always liked Viggo’s family.”
Hannah didn’t like this woman speaking about Minnie. Her blood pressure skyrocketed, but she kept her breathing steady. “They’re cute, yes. Minnie has always been open to love.”
“It’s an honorable thing,” Eleanor said. “Love! Oh, if only I had the time for it.”
“But you make it your business to know everything about Nantucketers, so there’s really no time,” Hannah parroted back to her, grimacing.
Eleanor laughed her beautiful, sinister laugh. “Darling, you’re really so clever. We’ve thought it ever since we read your articles. We’ve said it over and over. ‘That Hannah Moore really has a remarkable mind.’”
“You and the rest of the Legacy Club,” Hannah said flatly, then sipped her martini.
“Yes, darling. The Legacy Club and me,” Eleanor echoed, as though daring Hannah to say everything else she knew, everything else she’d discovered.
The truth was, Hannah only had vague connections. She had newspaper articles and letters, but she didn’t have much in the way of proof.
“I didn’t come to Nantucket to find a new story,” Hannah told her. “I came here for peace.”
“You’ve never wanted peace in your life,” Eleanor said.
Hannah wanted to laugh at that, as there was an air of truth to it that she had to accept. Peace was akin to boredom, was akin to giving up. At least in her, a newspaperwoman through and through.
“I went to the funeral because it intrigued me,” Hannah continued. “Thomas Bard, city councilman. Dead of mysterious circumstances? And they still won’t tell us how!”
“Are you really so morbid? Do you want to know?” Eleanor asked.
“I think it’s our right to know,” Hannah said. “It’s our right to know how and why people like the Legacy Club think they can take away lives, just like that.” She snapped her fingers, making a major play in their chess game, one that could destroy her.
Eleanor didn’t flinch. She seemed accustomed to being called out like this.
“Tell me,” Hannah said, before Eleanor could answer. “Tell me that I’m the one you’ll ‘disappear’ next. Tell me how you’re planning to do it.” She leaned forward, propping her chin up with her fist. “Enlighten me before you do. But keep in mind! My daughter only has me. Her father is gone.”
Eleanor smiled. “We know everything about your husband. We know everything about your affair with Julien, too.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She was beginning to like this woman despite herself.
She felt that she was interviewing one of the more fascinating subjects of her career.
Miraculously, that subject was a seventy-something woman who lived alone on Nantucket Island. Who would have thought?