Chapter 24
Barnaby met her at the Harbortown ferry terminal with a large bouquet of sunflowers. The sight of such a large man clutching those exuberantly sunshiny blooms made everyone around them look twice and smile.
Especially her.
“Nice touch,” she teased as he handed them to her. “But what am I supposed to do with them now?”
“I figured they can do double duty. First they’re for you, because they look even more beautiful when you hold them, and then we can pass them along to Safiya. She’s still in recovery.”
She burst out laughing. “How efficient.” Funny, though, it didn’t even bother her that she wouldn’t be keeping the sunflowers. His plan was perfect, and would mean a lot to Safiya. “But you owe me another bouquet at some point.”
“Absolutely.” He put an arm over her shoulder and guided her through the throngs of passengers toward a lineup of taxis and Ubers and Lyfts. “I have a driver waiting. I already called ahead. Safiya is expecting us. She and her family moved to Portland while they’re working out their Canada move.”
Gabby imagined that Safiya would be surprised to see them together. When she’d been staying at the inn the first time, Barnaby hadn’t been around. He’d been the missing globe-trotting adventurer everyone spoke about wistfully.
But if Safiya was surprised, she didn’t show it. She lived in the ground floor apartment of a red-brick apartment house on a busy street in downtown Portland. It smelled delicious, like roast lamb and spices. A small child with enormous dark eyes stared at them from behind Safiya’s skirt.
Gabby offered her the sunflowers, which drew a gasp from the child and a smile from Safiya. She called to another child, a girl about ten years old, who came and took the flowers away, hopefully to a vase.
“We wanted to ask you about Tamara Brown.”
A frown creased Safiya’s smooth brown skin. Her head scarf was a rich deep red with threads of gold—stunning. “Do I know this person?”
“She’s the white-haired woman you were seeing for some kind of treatment. You don’t have to say what.” Gabby said quickly. “That’s private.”
“White hair, yes.” Recognition dawned. “She give me tea for stomach. I told the policeman already.”
“So she did actually give you something to drink?” Disappointment twisted Gabby’s stomach. She’d been hoping Safiya’s story was the same as Buzzy’s—that Tamara hadn’t given her anything at all.
“Yes, but I give it most to police for the lab.”
Odd phrasing, thought Gabby. Sometimes that language and accent difference could be confusing. “Do you mean you gave most of it to the police?”
“Yes, most. Some I left at hotel. I call Judy to tell her so no one else drinks. Oh.” She held her stomach. “Such bad pain after.”
Gabby touched her shoulder. “How are you doing now, Safiya? Are you feeling quite better?”
“Yes miss. Better.”
Barnaby cleared his throat to speak again. He was doing the absolute most to keep his tone of voice from alarming Safiya; Gabby was honestly impressed. “How did you know about Tamara and her herbal treatments?”
Safiya frowned, looking puzzled. “Know?”
“Most of the staff at the inn stay there and rarely go to the west side of the island. Did someone tell you about Tamara?”
“Ah.” Her face cleared. “Mr. Carmichael told me when I clean his room. He said a very wise woman lives in the woods and someone he used to love lived there too. He told Carl to take me to her.”
Carl was one of the shuttle van drivers.
“What else did he say about Tamara?” Barnaby asked curiously.
“Mmmm…” Safiya tilted her head, trying to remember. “He said he can never go there because the woods won’t allow him. But he…” She glanced in embarrassment at Barnaby. “He says strange things when he’s…”
“I understand. It’s fine.”
“Was Tamara’s treatment helping?” Gabby asked delicately.
“Yes. I am pregnant now.” She beamed and touched her stomach. “I was so afraid when I was sick, but the baby is still here.” She turned to Barnaby. “My family and my husband and I are so thankful to you.”
Barnaby waved it off, looking embarrassed. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
After they left her little apartment and were strolling down the brick sidewalks of downtown Portland, Barnaby said, “Told you she’d remember me fondly.”
“You were right. I guess you didn’t need me here after all.” She winked at him.
“The hell I didn’t.” He touched a hand to her shoulder to steer her around a rough patch in the brickwork.
“You asked all the good questions. Which reminds me.” He pulled out his phone and hit a number.
“Judy, it’s Barnaby. I just spoke to Safiya and she said she gave you a packet of tea to dispose of.
I know it’s been a minute, but do you still have it? ”
Ohh, good thinking. Gabby flashed him a thumb’s up.
“Really? That’s great news. Can you send it in at the next opportunity? Ferry boat, speed boat, whatever vehicle is headed into town. We’re in Portland, not Harbortown. Excellent. Thanks. We’ll be back later tonight. Did I say we. I meant I. Never mind that. Goodbye.”
Was that a blush on Barnaby’s cheeks, above the thick black of new beard growth? Cute.
“She said she still has the tea and there’s a water taxi taking some guests headed to Portland heading out soon. We can pick it up in a couple of hours.”
“Do you want to test the tea again? The police already did that, didn’t they?”
“Yes, but there have been a few inconsistencies in what the police have said. Didn’t you say that Buzzy never took anything that Tamara gave him?”
Gabby saw where he was going with this. “You think the police might be fudging things.”
“It’s always possible. No harm in checking their work, right?”
“My brother might disagree. He’s a police officer in Atlanta,” she explained.
“Fair enough. I promise not to check his work.”
She smiled at that. “Don’t worry, he’s used to me and my journalistic ways. So long as I don’t break any laws, we’re good. Where will you get it tested?”
“I’m going to go through Luke. I know it could put him in an awkward position, but he can handle it.”
“If he can handle Heather, he can handle anything. And I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. Heather is the best, but it takes a special guy to keep up with her. Your brother seems to be the one.”
“He’d better give me some tips on how to handle a podcast babe,” he said solemnly.
“Podcast babe?” She gave an astonished laugh. “Is that what we are to you?”
“Among a few other things. Do you hate it?” He eyed her cautiously.
Considering for a moment, she decided she did not hate it. “It’s cute. I have no problem with it.”
He looked relieved. “So I had an idea about dinner.”
Just on time, her stomach grumbled. “So long as it includes food, I’m in.”
“That’s good to hear, because my idea is a little out of the box.
I made a reservation at The Cove”—hands down the most expensive restaurant in town—“but their first opening was in three hours, and I’m hungry now.
What would you say to a walk to the harbor to meet the water taxi, on a route that passes several food trucks?
We can snack our way to the dock and pick up that tea. ”
“And still make it to The Cove?” she asked hopefully. “Being wined and dined is part of my love language.”
“Is it? Good to know. What else?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Mmmm. The flowers were good. Just generally being treated like the queen I am.”
“Yes ma’am.” He bowed his head as if she were in fact a literal queen. She didn’t mind it. “I’d never consider anything different. What else?”
“Respecting my parents.”
“Of course. What about siblings?”
“You can talk all the shit you want about them.” Gabby shot him a teasing smile. “Just so long as you can take it too. They will show no mercy.”
“You have more than just the police officer brother?”
“Another brother, and an older sister. I’m third in the lineup.”
“All the same parents, or are any of those steps?”
She cocked her head at him. “Same parents. Why do you ask?”
“Because my father has six kids with three different wives, none of whom are his current wife. I always wondered what a less complicated family would be like.”
She laughed at the comparison, which hadn’t occurred to her until now. “My parents were strict with us. We’d never get away with the stuff your family does. Once I shoplifted a lipstick and I had nightmares until I returned it. I’m just praying my family never finds out about my night in jail.”
“Who’s getting away with anything? Carson’s in jail, so is Fiona.”
Her heart sank. To her mind, accountability was still a long ways off, with no guaranteed result. But maybe he didn’t see it that way. They were his family members, after all.
“They’re in jail for now. But I’ve seen how things work. Rich people get better lawyers, better treatment. And then you add the fact that they’re white…” She shrugged. “I want to believe that justice is equal, but a lot of times it isn’t. We’ll see how it all pans out.”
They reached a neighborhood park with a falafel truck stationed next it. A small line of hungry people clustered around it. “Interested?” Barnaby asked.
“Sure.”
She started toward the truck, then paused when he touched her arm.
“I gotta say something first,” he said in a low voice.
“Okay…” She lifted her eyebrows at how serious he sounded.
“I just want to say that I get where you’re coming from. I know things aren’t as equal as they should be. I don’t always see it because of how I grew up. Rich white boy and all. So if I say something you think is off-base, I hope you’ll call me on it.”
It took a moment for her to take that in. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
Scanning his face, she saw that he was entirely sincere. “Got it. What about the other way around? What if I say something clueless?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
“I guess I can handle being called out if I deserve it. Heather does it.” She smiled at him ruefully. “But I know your world better than you know mine, that’s just the nature of our society. We have to, for survival.”
They both ordered falafel wraps, and as they waited for them, Barnaby appeared to be lost in thought.
She wondered if she’d said too much, too soon.
They weren’t in a relationship, after all.
They hadn’t even slept together. One kiss, and she was already talking about life as a minority in America? Way to kill the vibe.
Kicking herself, she accepted her foil-wrapped falafel and lamb pita wrap and took a bite. Her mouth was still full when he finally spoke.
“I don’t know if it makes a difference, but you’re not the first Black woman I’ve dated. I know some of the land mines, but there’s always more. That’s why I want to hear about it if there’s something I miss.”
It touched her that he was looking at their relationship with so much seriousness, even though it was barely just beginning. As a verbal person, she liked that, liked being able to work through things.
“What sort of thing came up between you?”
“Well, for instance, she pointed out that just because I have some Black ancestors through my mother doesn’t mean I understand what it’s like to be Black. I was raised as an upper-crust white boy.”
Solid point. Shout-out to that previous girlfriend. “What happened with this ex of yours?” she asked, licking a drop of tahini sauce off her knuckle.
“It was never a long-term thing. We were both traveling all the time. She’s a linguist studying a nearly extinct language in Ghana. That’s where we met.”
“You’ve spent time in Africa?” That was more than she could say, though she’d like to visit some day. She imagined it would be an emotional journey, one she wasn’t quite ready for.
“I’ve spent time on every continent, including the really far away ones like Antarctica. I spent my entire twenties with itchy feet, traveling anywhere and everywhere.”
It sounded glamorously adventurous to her, the kind of thing she might do if she had all the money in the world—and different parents. “And now you’re stuck here.”
“And now I choose to be here,” he corrected. “It didn’t feel that way at first, but now I know it’s true, and I’m damn happy about it. Imagine Tamara having to go through this without me around.”
She managed a smile, although for a moment she’d thought he meant he was happy to be here because of her. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
“And imagine if I’d missed the chance to meet you,” he murmured, as if he’d read her mind. She glanced up, a little embarrassed, and lost herself in the dark fire of his gaze.
This is real. The thought flashed through her mind. Then, Are you ready?