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“She’s gorgeous!” Ann chimes in. “That skin, that hair. Oh, to be young again.”
“How old is she?”
“I don’t know.” Trudy turns to her cooking partner. “What’dya think, Ann?”
“Well, she’s obviously not a child, but also not a legal adult. So there you have it. She’s teen years old.” Ann is very pleased with herself.
“How did MacManus end up with a ward? That seems… old-fashioned.”
“Friend of the family,” Trudy answers promptly. “Died when Lea was young. MacManus took her in afterward.”
“Have you met Lea?”
“Coupla times,” Ann provides. “She doesn’t always come, only when he stays overnight. And even then, they rarely take their meals with us. He has his own private cook that travels with him, Chef Kiki.” Ann’s voice pitches up in an ooh-la-la sort of tone, so I know exactly how chichi this cook must be. She drops to her regular tone. “Plus, you’ve seen his place.”
“Those floors,” Trudy sighs admiringly.
“Charlie said they came from deforestation. Is it weird that the same person who wants to develop an eco-lodge built the first official residence with non-sustainable materials?”
“We don’t judge the house,” Trudy advises me. “We just clean it.”
“Or send you to clean it!” Ann chortles.
I hesitate, wanting to get back on topic without drawing too much attention. “In the picture, Lea… she looked sad. I don’t know. MacManus had his arm around her. But she didn’t look very comfortable with that.”
Immediately, the atmosphere in the kitchen changes. We’re three women, after all. We don’t need everything spelled out to know what we’re discussing.
“I’ve never really talked to her,” Trudy starts.
“I’ve never heard her talk,” Ann interjects. “She’s quiet. Shy, maybe.”
“But you never see her without him.” Trudy is looking at Ann now.
“And he always stays close,” Ann agrees. “Maybe protective, fatherlylike, but maybe…”
They exchange a glance, then turn toward me. “You have a reason for concern?” Trudy asks me point blank. “This relationship between two people you’ve never met?”
I peel off a few more strips of potato skins, weighing my next words carefully. Trudy raises an excellent point. How best to proceed? “I roam about. Come from nowhere, remember?”
Both nod.
“Sometimes, living on the fringes, I’ve encountered certain… situations. Something about the photo, a rich white guy with his arm around a pretty underage Hawaiian girl… Maybe it’s just an image capturing a particular moment, or maybe there’s a reason stereotypes such as lecherous old man taking advantage of vulnerable teen exist.”
“Which is an overgeneralization you damn well better keep to yourself.”
Vaughn has materialized in the doorway between the dining hall and the kitchen. His hands are planted on his hips, and he’s scowling at me with a swear-jar-worthy look on his face.
I start peeling very rapidly, while Trudy becomes obsessed with boiling water and Ann breads pork chops with renewed vigor.
Vaughn stalks into the room. “I’ve known Mac since he first brought Lea home after she lost her parents. If you’d seen how frightened she was then, compared to the graceful young woman she is now, you’d know he’s done right by her. And he doesn’t deserve you or anyone else twisting his good deed into something sordid.”
I glance at Vaughn’s stormy face. I believe he believes what he’s saying. Doesn’t mean I have to. Especially his remark about Lea having lost her parents, which I already know is pure fiction. I give Vaughn a mutinous look as I finish with the potato in my hand and drop it in the container in front of me. Trudy ventures close enough to snag the bowl, dump its contents into the first pot of boiling water, then ease it back in front of me without interrupting our staring contest.
“Why the hell are you asking so many questions anyway?” Vaughn demands now. “What business is it of yours?”
“What business is it of mine? What business is it of mine?” Now I am pissed off. And it feels good. After spending the day feeling exhausted, anxious, and overwhelmed, rage is exactly the break I’ve needed.
I toss down the potato peeler and march up to him. “According to you”—I jab a finger into his chest—“I’m working on an island so remote my own appendix is a danger to me. Add to that, I’ve spent my first morning discovering recent human remains—”
