AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Charlie gives up on the crazy woman, completing his inspection of the drawer, then lining it into position and with the merest of shimmying, sliding it into place.
“How did you—” I don’t have to feign my surprise. The drawers definitely weren’t that accommodating for me.
“All in the wrist, luv.” He gives me a wink. I do my best not to hit him. But my plan seems to work, as he repeats the process with the top drawer, then rises to standing without another word. “Right-o. Time to get a moving. Storm isn’t getting any kinder, and I got more work to do.”
I point to the sandy mess that’s appeared in his wake. “You. Wait by the front door. I’ll clean up the trail after both of us.”
“Won’t you be needing your cleaning supplies for that?” His tone is guileless, but with just enough edge. I’m not out of the woods yet.
“Hey, I thought I was finishing up my last task, not starting a whole new one. I’m on it.”
I make a show of lurching to my feet, grabbing the folded note and sliding it into my pocket as I rise to standing. I hope Charlie didn’t notice, but given his narrow gaze, can’t be sure.
I follow him to the front door, grab my mop and bucket, and return to the room. I clean up the mess in earnest, then make a show of wiping away our tracks, working my way back toward Charlie.
“Heard you and Ronin made quite a discovery this morning,” he calls out.
I pause, not sure what to say. Clearly, he’s fishing for more intel. I go with, “Is that right?”
“First body?” he asks. Yep, the camp grapevine is whirring away.
“No.” I realize I basically just mopped a clean stripe across the hardwood floor and make a detour into the sitting area.
“What’dya think? Pirate? Native? Maybe a mermaid?”
“I let Ronin do the thinking; I was merely the photographer. But Vaughn’s gonna fill everyone in at dinner.”
“Ah, yeah. Bloke loves his announcements. Hold the floor and all that.”
I pause in my cleaning long enough to regard Charlie. “Do you like him as a camp manager? I heard you have a lot of experience with these kinds of postings. How does he compare?”
A one-shoulder shrug. “Good enough. Does his work, lets me do mine.”
Charlie’s assessment sounds a lot like Trudy’s. Clearly, remote outposts appeal to people who prefer not to play with others.
“Don’t know how he stands this one, though.” Charlie points in the general direction of the house. MacManus, I realize. He’s talking about MacManus.
“How so?”
“Know what these floors are made of?”
I shake my head.
“Tiger wood. Porch out front—Brazilian mahogany. Know what those two woods have in common?”
Another shake of my head.
“Deforestation. As in, these beauties came straight from some rainforest that no longer exists. And those shelves above that table—Hawaiian koa. So rare it’s considered the wood of royalty. That’s a lot of board feet that won’t be growing back anytime soon.”
“In other words, the guy who wants to build an eco-lodge crafted his own residence from endangered trees?”
“There’s no understanding the rich. Gronks, each and every one of them. Though they know how to sign a good check.” He gestures to my mop, clearly impatient to get going. I take the hint, wrapping up what must be the world’s most haphazard janitorial job. I dump the bucket, rinse the mop, collect the rest of the supplies, and then follow Charlie out the front door.
The wind hits me immediately, a powerful gust that nearly knocks me off my feet and showers me in a mix of rain and ocean spray. I spit out sand, understanding what happened to Charlie’s beard and is about to happen to my ponytail.
We both turn our backs to the storm while we fight to pull on our raincoats within the relative protection of the front porch. I don’t bother with the umbrella. No way it’s surviving these kinds of conditions.
“Weather’s getting a might tetchy,” Charlie comments. I nod in agreement, bucket clutched tight in one hand, the other holding my hood on top of my head as the wind tries to snatch it back.
