wink. Some people think a green flash brings good luck.”
“I ran through my luck a while back.”
“Pay attention,” he said, “or you might not recognize luck when it appears.”
In the sky, high puffs of cloud were turning peach with purple edges, and a swirl of golden wisps hung in the west. “You should see yourself in this light,” he said. “That red hair might burst into flame any second.”
If he was going to flirt, she was going to run. “Enjoy the evening.” Without waiting for a response, she headed down the hill at a purposeful and fearless pace, abandoning the obstructed drive for the more open grassy patches.
She hadn’t heard him following, but while she was scrambling over the gate, he vaulted the wall; he was standing at the side of the road by the time she made it over. The gardenia was now behind his ear and he removed it, smiled rakishly, and set it on the ground between them. At close range she could see that he wore an earring, a tiny skull and crossbones with ruby eyes that seemed to glow from within.
He caught her staring at it. “A sailor’s earring pays for his burial if he dies at sea.”
She looked left and right along the empty road. He pointed down the hill. “The receptionist at Oualie will arrange a taxi to the Resort.”
“How do you know where I’m staying?”
“Lucky guess.” His hand over his heart, he made a little bow. “See you.” He began walking toward Charlestown, whistling, “Begin the Beguine.”
When she stooped to pick up the gardenia, she thought to question him about the warning on the gate, but by the time she’d straightened up again, the road was deserted.
CHAPTER 5
Cursing, Tony Hallowell struggled with the padlock and overgrown chain until his face had gone nearly as pink as the coralita vine. “Goddamn jungle swallows everything,” he said. He propped the gate open with his knee.
“When was the last time you showed this place?” Els squeezed through the opening, avoiding Tony’s belly. His breath smelled of this morning’s mint and yesterday’s rum.
“Never,” he said. “Since Jack Griggs is only believed to have drowned, maybe on purpose, and no corpse ever turned up, the court has only just ruled his estate can be settled. What you see here is as he left it.”
“No family?”
“No contact in decades, as I understand it. The heir’s solicitor is handling everything. Mind where you step.” He started up the drive. He was slack-shouldered, balding. Everything about him sagged.
“What’s that enormous stalk with the orange flowers?” she said.
“We call it a century plant,” he said. “There’s a serious garden under all this mess.”
“And the price includes everything?”
“‘As is, where is,’ as we say in the trade.” He walked onto the court, planted his knuckles on his hips, and surveyed the roof. A solar water heater dangled from one of its fasteners. A green vervet monkey like those she’d seen at Golden Rock was sitting on it and glaring down at them.
“Is he part of the package?” she asked.
“Vermin,” Tony said. “Bloody nuisance, all of them. Had enough?”
“I have to see the inside.”
“I told you, I haven’t the key yet.”
“Who the hell does, then?”
“Jack, presumably.”
She smiled tightly. “Surely you carry a tire iron in your car.”
“Break the lock and leave the house open until I get a replacement?”
“You said yourself that nobody dares bother the place.”
“Christ a’mighty,” Tony said, and headed back to the car.
Els circled the house, snapping photos. She examined the stonework built into the hillside, which included a cistern, cracked and dry, with pipes feeding it from the roof. In the overgrown grounds were an outbuilding with its roof torn off, giant mango trees, and a row of gardenias as high as a hedge.
A hummingbird brushing her arm startled and delighted her. Its hovering produced a surprisingly loud whir. From the tiny bird she sensed acknowledgment, mutual curiosity, and welcome. They stared at each other until Tony’s crashing through the palm fronds broke the spell, and the bird flashed green and zoomed off to gather nectar from the hibiscus.
Tony jammed the tire iron under the door’s hasp and the screws popped away, along with a piece of the doorframe.
Els touched the raw wood. “Just look what you did.”
“Relax, will you? It’s not yours. Yet.” He switched on his torch, wrenched open the door, and waved her through.
The kitchen was as cool as a cellar. Shelves with storage jars, an oilcloth thumbtacked to the table, three mismatched chairs in different