seemed somewhat normal, before the day Alex took me out in that boat.
"Neither of us has the money," I told him. "Even if I did...there's too much history here for me. This is a goodbye visit."
I hadn't thought about it until I said it, but it was true. I'd come here to bury a lot of things - my memories of Dad, my PI work, my years as a bachelor. The whole idea of possessing this island made me feel kind of like Ty - like the walls were closing in.
A cracking noise echoed through the house. Alex closed his eyes, as if he were trying to sense where the damage was. "I'd better go check that."
"Tell me about Chris," I said. "Were you two getting along?"
He hesitated. "I told you, we've known each other forever."
I waited, but Alex didn't add anything.
"Did Chris have a personal computer?"
"He used the office computer," Alex said. "That's it, I think."
"Do you have one?"
"A computer? Hell, no. I hate the things. Chris did most of my spreadsheets and stuff."
"I need to check the office."
"The power's out. Computer won't work."
"I still want to look around. Maybe sift through paperwork, any printouts Chris might have made."
"You're not thinking Chris murdered that marshal."
"I don't know." I held his eyes. I didn't mention the cash in the duffel bag. If Alex had heard about it, he didn't mention it either.
"All right," he said. "I'll get Jose to show you. He helped Chris sometimes. Knows more about computer stuff than I do, anyway."
He took a deep breath, like he was preparing for another round of battle. "Now I gotta get upstairs. I think the damn roof just blew away."
Chapter 16
Maia hated the staircase. It seemed to get steeper every time she climbed it. She wasn't sure why Imelda decided to escort her, but she welcomed the help. Imelda held her arm, steadying her, encouraging her when she was out of breath.
"I feel like an invalid," Maia said.
"You are doing well, senora. Someday you will tell your child about this weekend."
"He's never going to hear the end of it."
"It is a boy?"
Maia stopped for a breath. "Imelda, I don't know. I just started calling him 'him.' I think so."
"My abuela used to dream the gender of babies before they were born. She told me - " Imelda stopped herself. "She was never wrong."
"About your own children?" Maia asked.
Imelda nodded reluctantly. "We are almost to the top, senora. A few more steps."
They took the rest of the climb in silence. Maia imagined she was back at the house in Southtown, just going upstairs to the bedroom. No storm. No killers.
Her doctor had thought she was crazy for agreeing to this trip. Tres didn't understand either.
"It's just Garrett," Tres had told her. "We can say no. Hell, we should say no."
But Maia had convinced him to accept. The last few months she'd felt stifled. Not by the house or by her marriage or even by her decision to put her legal career on hold. She felt claustrophobic within her own skin. Just her and the baby, stuck in here for so many months, waiting.
The idea of going somewhere new, seeing a place that was part of Tres's past, had intrigued her. Especially since it was a place Tres had never mentioned before. Not even once.
"You spent every summer here?" she'd asked.
He nodded reluctantly.
"And...did what?"
"You know. The usual stuff kids do at the beach."
Maia imagined things from movies and books, or things she'd witnessed at the beach when she was an adult. Her childhood had had no beaches. No family vacations. Her only escape as a child had been climbing the mulberry tree to get away from the misery in her family's one-room shack, her father's depression and her brother's illness.
"I want to see Rebel Island," she'd decided.
"No," Tres said. "You really don't."
But the more he tried to dissuade her, the more curious and determined she'd become. With Tres, she always felt as if she were fighting to keep hold, always competing with his roots here in Texas, a place she had never understood. She was determined to weave herself into his territory, to be part of his landscape.
Even after all that had happened this weekend, Maia did not regret her choice. She just wished she understood why Tres disliked this old hotel and Alex Huff so much.
Imelda helped her into the suite. She turned down the bed, but Maia didn't feel like lying down. She walked a slow circuit around the