5. Eli
“I ’ve never in my life heard anything remotely like that.” Kate’s voice sounded shaky, and not just because she was coming through the speaker on Eli’s truck dashboard.
She’d been shocked by his tale of the events with Crista, which he’d just finished telling her as he drove to pick up some materials for the day’s work.
He’d shared the whole story of what had transpired, trying to play down Crista’s theatrics. Although as soon as she spoke to Tessa, Kate would know the real truth of what happened.
“Yeah, we were all floored,” he said. “It almost makes me want to go back to see Frank and Betty Cavallari and ask if they knew about this.”
Kate and Eli had visited the much older couple, who’d been “couple friends” with both sets of parents all those years ago. They’d hoped that those old friends might be able to shed light on what caused the Big Breakup between the Wylies and the Lawsons.
But the encounter had left Kate and Eli more confused. Mrs. Cavallari told Kate that Maggie and Artie had had an affair; Mr. Cavallari told Eli that Jo Ellen and Roger had been involved. Their eighty-something memories were bad, and the affair possibility felt utterly wrong to all of them.
“Do you think you could talk to Jo Ellen, Kate?” Eli asked. “Maybe get a feel for the possibility of this being true or not?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Why would I? Eli, I can’t drag her through even the possibility of something like that. She’s so tender.”
His eyes shuttered as he considered the best way to answer. Kate’s mother was still deeply mourning her husband, who’d died last year. If anyone understood how long that pain lasted, it was Eli. It had taken him years to begin to heal after he lost Melissa.
To make matters harder, Jo Ellen, well into her seventies, had fallen and sprained her ankle, which was why Kate had left so suddenly.
But they had to ask her. She was the only person alive who might know what happened—other than Maggie, of course.
“Don’t you want to know?” he asked.
“No.” She laughed. “Sorry if I sound like a broken record, but I’m being honest. You’d want that, right?”
“Of course,” he replied, hating that she’d even asked.
The whole conversation felt stilted and distant and…yeah, distant. Did they have a snowball’s chance when they were a thousand miles apart? The weeks together last month had been…perfect. Now? Not so perfect.
He pulled into a gas station but before he lined up with a pump, he parked his truck so he could concentrate on the conversation.
“Listen, Eli, I feel the pain in your voice and, yeah, this is a terrible turn of events.” She sighed into the phone, giving him a visual of the way she must look on the other side of this call.
He could see her dark hair with fringed bangs, her sparkly brown eyes, and that wide smile with a hint of dimples. She’d have her glasses…somewhere between where they belonged on her nose and lost on the closest counter or in her pocket.
His heart tightened with affection.
“But we are talking about ancient history,” she added, pulling his thoughts away from her looks and back to this problem.
“Not that ancient,” he said.
“Thirty years? And both men in question are gone?” Her voice rose with frustration. “Does it really matter anymore?”
He blinked at the question and stared straight ahead. “Are you serious?” he asked on a rasp. “My dad went to prison, where he died.”
“Who’s to say he wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t been in prison?” she countered.
“We’ll never know, but he was alone—which he likely wouldn’t have been at home—and he had...prison stress.”
He heard her take a steadying breath. “He committed serious crimes, Eli. Does it really matter who turned him in? You don’t question his guilt, do you?”
An old and familiar disgust wound through him. “No, I never have. He was guilty.”
“Well, is it relevant how the authorities learned of his…activities?”
“It’s relevant to my family,” he said, hearing the coolness in his voice. “And, whoa, it matters to my mother.”
“Everything matters to Maggie.”
He winced, not sure he liked that sentiment, even if he might agree with it.
“I’m sorry,” she added quickly, as though she realized that was hurtful. “I know what your father did is a source of true pain for you, Eli. But you need to spread a little of that forgiveness you believe in so much.”
Oh. Was there anything a Christian hated more than being reminded that they weren’t acting like, well, a Christian?
“I can forgive him—Artie, that is,” he said. “I don’t like that he felt compelled to ruin my father’s life, but?—”
“Eli! We don’t know any of the details or if this is even true.”
“Which is why I want you to ask Jo Ellen, but I understand she’s not feeling well.”
“She’s a wreck,” she said. “Is it possible she’s getting worse in her grief and not better?” Her voice sounded pained, enough that he put everything out of his head but the need to help her.
“It can,” he said, sadly speaking with authority on the subject. “Like a rebound thing.”
He closed his eyes and tried to think back to the darkest days of his life.
Not when his father died in prison—though that time was wretched, too—but fifteen years ago when two police officers and an HR representative from the TV station where Melissa worked walked into his office. They came to deliver the news that the station’s private plane had gone down and there were no survivors, but to this day, he couldn’t recall one word of that conversation.
“I guess grief is not linear,” Kate said, sounding very much like the scientist she was.
“No, so…be good to Jo Ellen,” he said. “Don’t ask her anything that’s going to upset her.”
“Thanks for understanding, Eli.”
“Sure, sure. I just…really worry about all that Crista said. Maggie literally doesn’t want us talking to anyone named Wylie…”
Kate gave a wry snort. “Good thing you’re fifty-three and a grown man who doesn’t have to do what his mother says.”
“No, I don’t,” he countered. “But I love her like you love your mother. She also lost a husband, albeit thirty years ago, and I respect her.”
“Enough to…give this up?” she asked on a whisper.
He swallowed. “Of course not.”
They were both quiet for a beat, then she sighed. “I have a meeting with the lab staff,” she said. “Can we talk tonight?”
“Of course. Have you thought any more about coming down this summer with your kids?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Will Maggie allow it?” There was enough tease in her voice to make him laugh.
“Ouch.”
“I’m kidding, Eli,” she said, sounding a little sorry she’d even made the joke. “We are thinking about it—the kids are chomping at the bit for a Florida vacation.”
“Then we’ll have to figure out how to make that happen,” he said. “Because nothing—and no one—will stop me from seeing you again, Lady Katie.”
She gave a gentle laugh, warm enough to erase some of the distance he felt. “I have to run. Talk soon!”
“Bye.”
He dropped his head back as the call disconnected. Nothing and no one would stop his feelings for her, that was true. But he sure wasn’t looking forward to the fight.
He had a month to figure it out. As always, no matter what challenge he faced, he knew where his help came from. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the blue sky through the windshield.
“You brought Jonah back to me,” he whispered to the God he firmly believed heard every word. “Can you work on my mother now?”
He didn’t hear any audible response, but, like always, he trusted that his prayer would be answered.
* * *
The beachfront restaurant known as Pompano Joe’s was never quiet, but Eli had been able to snag an outdoor table, so the only noise was from the surf not the crowd. With the setting sun turning the entire beach a thousand shades of orange, he and Peter enjoyed a relaxing dinner of fried seafood and a couple of beers.
Years always faded away when he was with the man he’d known since elementary school. Peter had a rough childhood—his parents divorced, his dad was a gutter drunk, and his mother was never around—but he and Eli had become fast friends playing sixth-grade basketball together.
The older Peter got, the more time he wanted to spend at the Lawsons’, so it seemed like a no-brainer to bring him to Destin for seven consecutive summers, straight through to their senior year of college.
They’d been through a lot together, and loved reminiscing, especially here. Peter had his own divorce story, but the tall, sandy-haired man had coped beautifully.
He’d raised two sons and worked tirelessly to bring down the baddies, his law enforcement job being a great source of pride. He’d parlayed his greatest character traits—a keen eye for observation and being a truly kind person—into a fascinating career as a police detective.
After they’d spent most of the meal catching up and laughing about old times, Eli asked about the missing persons case that brought Peter’s investigative skills to Destin.
“There’s no evidence of foul play,” Peter said after he explained that a Pensacola resident had gone missing during a weekend trip to Destin. “The dude could have gone off to Mexico with his mistress. But every lead over there was a dead end, so they sent me here to see if I can retrace the guy’s last days before disappearing.”
“They’re sure he was here?” Eli asked.
“His car was found abandoned near Henderson,” he said, referring to the local state park beach. “While I’m here, I’ll be combing security footage and getting Ring camera output, interviewing locals near his rental, the bars and restaurant owners, the usual.”
“Sounds interesting,” Eli said.
Peter grinned. “Mostly I’ll be coming to the Summer House to hang out with the Lawsons and the Wylies.”
“One Wylie,” he said.
Peter gave him a knowing look. “You miss Kate, don’t you?”
“Understatement, my friend.”
Giving in to a slow smile, Peter lifted his bottle of Heineken. “And here I always thought it was Tessa who had you wrapped around her little finger.”
“It was, when I was a moron, er, kid,” he joked. “Kate’s just…right for me, Pete. She’s solid, smart, a really good woman. She makes me laugh and think. I didn’t get enough time with her, though. And now she’s a thousand miles away, and there’s a new complication.”
He lifted his brows. “What’s that? Anything I can help with?”
“As a matter of fact…you might.”
“Hit me.”
Eli leaned in, pushing away his nearly finished plate, and gave a very scaled-down report of what Crista had said. He didn’t need to get into the family emotion, especially with a man as pragmatic as Peter.
But his friend instantly knew what was needed.
“You want me to find out who turned him in,” Peter guessed.
“I certainly don’t want to ask you to do anything outside the bounds of law enforcement rules. But…are those files available?”
He huffed a slow breath, closing his eyes to instantly communicate the complications.
“Yes and no and maybe,” he said. “First of all, it depends on if the case was investigated at the state or fed level. Knowing what I do about your dad’s crimes, I think that jurisdiction started with Atlanta PD, then maybe GBI moved in. Do you know?”
Eli shrugged. “I was twenty-two, mad as hell, embarrassed, and wishing I could climb in a hole where my dad was concerned. Honestly, I did my level best to know nothing except the verdict the day it came in.”
“I get that,” Peter said. “Looking into the origin of the investigation might be easy, especially if the original tip is in case notes or detective logs. Those leads usually come from the victims—and I presume Artie wasn’t one of those—or a colleague acting as a whistleblower. I know a few guys in Atlanta PD who could find out how the case got rolling. If so, I’ll get you the information.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he added. “If that doesn’t work, court records and transcripts are public information. Did Artie testify against him?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t know,” Eli admitted. “I was away at school during the trial and my mother kept everything under a dome of silence. Sorry.”
He smiled. “Ah, Maggie. Hey, I remember those were tough days and you’ve always hated the subject of Roger’s crimes. Don’t apologize.” He took a sip of beer, thinking. “Fulton County DA or the Georgia Attorney General could have information, but…hard to get.”
“Like I said, I don’t want you to color outside the lines, Pete. If it’s easy to find out, great.”
“I’ll poke around,” he said, then narrowed his eyes. “If you really want to know.” At Eli’s questioning look, he added, “It isn’t going to help things with Kate if it’s true. Not if Maggie has her way.”
“I know.” He leaned back, the weight of that still heavy. “I trust a higher power.”
“Higher than Maggie?” he cracked. “I didn’t know there was one.”
Eli chuckled, and finished his beer.
“Now can I ask a favor?” Peter put his hand over the check.
“Pay for dinner? No way,” Eli said. “I got this.”
“Pensacola PD’s got this,” he said, snagging the check. “And that’s not my favor.”
“What is it? Name it and claim it, my friend.”
“Careful now, big brother.”
Eli angled his head, not sure he got that.
“I’d like permission to ask your beautiful sister, Vivien, on a date or six while I’m here.” He gave a sly, even shy, smile. “Since you and I are taking the chances we didn’t have the insight to take back in the nineties.”
“The girls were young in the nineties,” he said. “Plus, I’d have killed you if you had put a hand on Viv.”
He laughed, then his smile faded. “Would you now?”
“Maybe. But you’re the one who’s carrying concealed right now. Am I right?”
“Damn right,” Peter said on a laugh, snapping the bill away as Eli tried again to grab it. “So let me pay or I’ll shoot you.”
“Thank you.” Eli surrendered with a grateful smile. “Vivien’s not a kid, but she’s not fully healed. Her divorce isn’t even final, so…”
“So go slow and easy.” Peter nodded. “Heard, brother. How did it go when she went back and saw her ex a few weeks ago? I advised her to remember that a divorce can last longer than a marriage.”
“Not great,” Eli said. “Ryan Knight’s a jerk, but I’m glad she took your advice because she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that the marriage is over. As it should be.”
“So…I can, uh, help her heal?”
Eli shot him a look. “You can treat my sister like the precious gem she is.”
“That’s the only way, my friend. You have my word.”
After Peter signed the bill, they walked out toward the parking lot, shook hands, and agreed to talk very soon.
Something told Eli that the truth he was after would be hard to find, but if anyone could help him, it was Peter.
And if anyone could help Vivien…it might also be Peter.