What Happens in Paradise - Elin Hilderbrand Page 0,44
any further,” he says.
Maia rolls her eyes theatrically, and although Cash knows exactly nothing about twelve-year-old girls, he can tell that beneath the surface of her exasperation, she’s grateful. Her mother is gone, but she’s not alone. She has Ayers and now she has Cash, and they’re here to pay attention. They’re here to care about her.
“So I told my secret,” Maia says. “Now it’s your turn. Cash, who do you have a crush on?”
“Okay,” Cash says, standing up. “Time to head back.” He whistles for Winnie, who is down on the beach, chasing stray chickens.
He has a crush on Ayers; more than a crush. When they get back to the parking lot, it’s difficult to say goodbye. Ayers has to work at La Tapa that night and on Treasure Island the next day, and Maia is going fishing with Huck. Then, next week, Maia has school and Cash starts his lifesaving classes. He can begin crewing on Treasure Island a week from Sunday; Wade will still be around to train him.
A week from Sunday feels awfully far away.
“Maybe you and I can hike again sometime,” Maia says. “I’ll take you to the Esperance Trail. There’s a baobab tree.”
“It’s a date,” he says. He peers over Maia’s head at Ayers. “Thanks for inviting me along today.”
“Of course,” Ayers says. She and Maia hop in the little green truck and wave. “See ya later.”
Cash and Winnie watch them drive away.
There’s no reason to feel down, and yet he does. He drives back to the villa, knowing he can crack a beer and spend what remains of the afternoon by the pool, and then he should take a trip to the grocery store because he can’t eat at La Tapa every night or he’ll quickly burn through the money Irene gave him.
He passes the black SUV in the dummy driveway—different guy, dark-complected. Cash waves.
When he gets up to the house, he hears voices, splashing. Someone is in the pool.
Whoa! Cash’s crazy first thought is that it’s FBI agent number one. His second thought is that the house has been rented and Paulette forgot to tell Irene, or maybe she thought it wouldn’t matter since they’d gone back to the States. That must be it. What is Cash going to do? He doesn’t have money for a hotel and his lifesaving class starts Monday. He sends Winnie up the stairs ahead of him. Paulette will have to come up with a solution. Find these people another house.
Cash is nearly at the top step, prepping himself for an uncomfortable confrontation, when he hears a young voice say, “Winnie! Uncle Cash!”
It’s Floyd, bobbing in the pool. And Baker, sitting on the edge in just his bathing trunks.
“Hey,” Baker says.
“What—” Cash shakes his head. Winnie’s tail is going nuts; she barks. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re moving here!” Floyd announces. “To live!”
Huck
Agent Colette Vasco is a serious woman, though not unkind. She has a niece Maia’s age, her sister’s daughter, and they’re very close. Agent Vasco knows that being twelve isn’t easy, and she understands how difficult things must be for Maia right now with the sudden loss of her mother. She agrees to come get the money while Maia is at school.
“I’m sorry to say, I have to bring a search team, including a drug dog, but if all goes according to plan, Maia will never know we’ve been there.”
Huck is grateful. A team of four show up, along with a German shepherd named Comanche. Comanche does a quick, frenetic tour of the house, although he’s in and out of Huck’s room in a matter of seconds, which makes Huck wonder if maybe it does smell like rotting fish.
Comanche is tied up in the shade outside while the team comes in to retrieve the money from under Huck’s bed. Then they systematically search the rest of Huck’s house. Huck would be worried about them invading Maia’s room but it looks like it’s already been ransacked. There are clothes everywhere; supplies for Maia’s bath-bomb business are spread across her desk, and hair products and makeup cover the surface of the dresser. There’s also a fair amount of trash—wrappers from Clif Bars, half-full cans of LaCroix coconut seltzer.
“Maybe you could clean up while you’re in there,” Huck jokes. The FBI agents don’t so much as crack a smile. They aren’t humans, they’re robots, Huck thinks. Robots on a mission. Fine; Huck will