Dash found me on the lawn afterward while the congregation milled and fanned and angled for a look.His hand started toward the small of my back, then remembered where we were and dropped.
“Late to church,” he tsked in my ear.“Must have had an interesting night.Dreams disturb your sleep?”
“Hush,” I said, my face flaming.“It was the sun.I got a little too much and I was worn out.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, grinning, and then he changed the subject.“Josephine called the station this morning and the dispatcher patched her through to my cell.She had the storage boxes brought to her house yesterday from the storage building.She said we’re welcome to come by and pick them up when we’re available.”
“No time like the present,” I said.
“My thoughts too,” he said.“Though I was hope to talk you into lunch.”
That was the problem with this man.He could talk me into anything.I’d spent most of the night kicking myself for not taking him up on the trip to his house.I’d even thought about calling him and asking if the offer was still good before my good sense took hold.Maybe Pastor Bruce should have taught on temptation instead of the talents.
“We can drive through Sandy’s,” I said as a compromise.Sandy’s on the Shore had the best burgers on the island and they were open on Sundays.It was the kind of place where there was no indoor seating and you had to order at the counter.Most people took their food back to their cars or found a picnic table.
We took my car, and Dash seemed affable about the lunch choice.We grabbed our burgers and ate in the car with the AC blowing full blast, while dialing into the AM radio station the restaurant advertised so we could listen to the fifties music they played.
“Okay,” Dash said.“My appetite is appeased.Ready for Josephine?”
“Her family home is over on Camellia Row,” I said.
“Very fancy.”
“Bea said the Wainwrights are longtime islanders, but no one with the name has lived on the island since Henry died.Josephine married a billionaire, so they have houses all over the world, but she’s kept the family home here.Apparently she’s been renting it out.”
“Heck of a rent house,” he said.
“I looked it up on Zillow.Only fifteen thousand a month.”
He grinned.“Sounds like a steal.”
“In this area, it probably is.I guess it’s been empty the last year or so though except for maintenance staff.”
There was the new money side of the island, where I lived, and then there was the old money side of the island.Even past the grand mansions near the park where Deidre’s and Henry Wainwright’s homes were.
The closer we got to Camellia Row the higher and thicker the fences became, so the mansions behind the walls weren’t even visible from the street.Palm trees lined the drives and hundreds of years of oaks shaded manicured lawns.
I turned into the driveway and the gates opened automatically, and my tires crunched over the crushed-shell drive all the way to the house.
I’m not sure house was the right description.
“I had no idea this was back here,” Dash said.
“Don’t feel bad,” I said.“I’ve lived here since I was a teenager and I had no idea this was back here.”
Josephine’s home was multiple levels of white stucco with black shutters and gardens kept by somebody who knew what they were doing.It had the European traditional double grand staircase leading to a second-floor entrance, and each wing had its own piazzas.
She met us at the door in slate-gray linen and pearls, and the air-conditioning rolled out around her so cold it raised the hair on my arms.
“Y’all come on in,” she said once we got out of the car.“Now I remember why Joseph and I spent summers in the French Riviera.This humidity should be outlawed.”
I agreed.
She stepped back to let us in.
“This is a beautiful home,” I said.
“It is,” she agreed.“Henry and I were very privileged to grow up here.I’m quite sad to sell it.Joseph is gone, and our only son was killed in a car accident twenty years ago.We’ve got two grandsons, but they’re both well established and felt like the house would be more of a burden to them than an asset, so…” She sighed like she was talking herself into it.“I’m selling.”
