Chapter 12 #2
“Only when I’m having a one-sided conversation in the midst of my life burning to the ground, actually.”
For the first time, he makes a sound that could be interpreted as a laugh.
“Your mom told you I didn’t know about you?” he asks in the friendliest tone he’s used.
“She did.”
“What else did she say?” he prods. “About me.”
I eye him—he cares about her.
“She keeps in touch with a friend—Colleen Gabers. Said you’re friends with her husband.”
He gives an acknowledging nod.
“Told her you had health issues and how I could find you.”
“What else?”
“That she thinks she made a mistake by leaving you.” I know I have his attention because his cane goes still.
“And?”
“And she told me about you because she thinks I’m repeating history.”
He grunts. “How’s that?”
I sigh, annoyed this is what we’re talking about when there are more pressing matters.
“I married the wrong man—who I’ll be divorcing during my visit because he also happens to live here.
” The realization I’m in the same city as Nash makes me lightheaded, but I force that thought aside.
I’m not dealing with him today. “And she and I have vastly differing definitions of wrong man.”
“You love him?”
I suck my tongue against my teeth. “Once upon a time I thought I did, but I haven’t seen him in years, so no.”
He grunts then takes a labored breath. I eye the oxygen tank.
“Lungs are shot,” he offers between wheezes.
“And your leg?” I ask.
His lips twitch. “Gone.”
He might be being funny but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to laugh.
He shifts the cane between his hands then stands. At the counter, he pulls a bottle of pills from a cabinet, taking one out and swallowing it down with a slug of rum straight from the bottle.
At my expression: “Liver’s shot too.”
“You take your liver pills with liquor and vape while on oxygen?” I don’t bother hiding my judgment. “That doctor recommended?”
“Penny,” he grunts.
“Who?”
“That’s what I call the vape. Her name’s Penny. She’s full of weed oil. Neighbor gets it for me. Knows a guy from Virginia. Carolina’s a prick.”
He offers me the bottle of rum that I wave off, still processing the fact that he’s named his weed pen and called an entire state a prick.
“How long you here?” he asks.
“Not long. Two weeks tops.” I use my forearm to wipe the sweat from my brow. “Unless my money runs out.”
It probably will. Even if the roof bill didn’t have a due date, I don’t have enough money to dawdle no matter how much Bennie wishes I did. I don’t even know where I’m going to stay tonight.
A breeze blows through the open windows of the boat and offers a momentary reprieve.
Outside, the view is stunning. All marsh grass and water with boats cutting across it.
It sounds like summer. Looks like it. Definitely feels like it with the way the humidity is trying to drown me with every breath.
“I’ll tell you what I know,” he finally says, shaking me from my thoughts. “But if you’re looking for the treasure, I’m coming with you, and we’ll need help.”
“What?” My throat pinches. “You don’t have to come with me, I just want you to tell me what you know.”
“Not that simple.” He shrugs. “And I don’t have anything better to do. Finish what I started.”
“I thought you didn’t leave your boat?”
“Seems like a good day to start.”
“What about the government?” I demand.
He blinks.
“Won’t they take it if we find it?”
“Eh.” He shifts his cane between his hands. “Cross that bridge when we get there.”
I bat my tongue around my mouth and consider this man in front of me. My father. Rueben Vance. Cap. Whoever the hell he is.
I want to fight him on this. He’s so grouchy and seemingly annoyed that I’m here, I have no idea why he wants to do this, but something in his slightly yellowed face tells me I won’t win. I need what he knows if I’m going to get this money, and I need this damn money.
He takes my silence as his answer because he adjusts the captain’s hat on his head, slips a leather boat shoe on his real foot, and slings his little oxygen tank over his shoulder. Bare-chested cane in hand, he limps his way through the hatch, making the boat rock when he steps onto the dock.
“Ain’t got all day,” he barks. “Lock up.”
I clamber up the steps behind him, securing a padlock after I close the hatch. I don’t know why he needs to lock this boat up any more than I understand what I just agreed to or where we’re going.
“What’s your husband do for work?” he asks with a cough as he settles into the passenger seat of the station wagon.
I pluck the Thirsty for History pamphlet from my purse and toss it on his lap. “Tour guide.”
Without looking at it, he says, “Sounds good.”
“Sounds good?” I parrot, jerking my chin back. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Means he’s the one that’ll help us.”
“No.” Because no. Over my cold, dead body. “Absolutely not.”
“I said we need help, he looks helpful.”
I look at Nash’s smiling face on the cover of the pamphlet—he looks anything but helpful. He looks destructive. He looks like a pain in my ass and a hole in my heart.
“Don’t you have any friends? What about the Gabers?”
“Eh. They don’t know how to find it,” he says. “Plus, those tour-guiding bastards get access to everything. Tried pretending to be one once.” He smiles proudly before frowning. “Didn’t work. He’ll know how.”
My mouth hangs open so wide a family of pelicans could fly right into it and build a nest.
“We goin’ or not?” he barks.
Don’t do it, Rue, a little voice inside me screams. Do not listen to this man.
But that little voice isn’t loud enough to drown out the one reminding me about the money we lost or the brain tumor my mom needs removed. Unless Barry the blinking banker calls me with the unlikely news he’s found our money, I have no other choice.
I may be glaring at Cap as I pull out of the marina, but I also do as he says.