AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Harley was here and now she’s not.
She sidelined me. Us.
There I was, thinking I was winning, and now it’s like I never played. Like it was all a dream.
The patch of sunlight coming in through the front windows traces its way across the floor until it disappears behind the ice cream cooler display.
Voices float to me from outside.
“But I want to know one thing. Was Chip murdered?” Magnus asks.
“No, but like with Mom and Dad, not everything about his life and business dealings were above board,” CJ says.
“Leave our parents out of it.” That’s Royal.
“Will you just answer the question?” Magnus asks.
“No, I don’t believe Chip was murdered. But crimes were committed,” CJ says.
“What do you know?” Magnus asks.
“Where is he? He’s not answering his cell,” Royal grumbles, annoyed.
“Probably off somewhere with Harley,” CJ says.
“I saw her with Luke earlier going back to her uncle’s house, alone.”
The door to the Sip & Scoop opens. “Ry, you back there?” CJ calls.
Magnus sees me first and strides toward me. “Are you okay?” With one hand he checks my pulse and with the other, he lifts my eyelids and checks my pupils. “Answer me, brother.”
“Yes. No.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “I need you to be clearer than that.”
“Is it about Harley?” CJ asks as if he recognizes my state.
I nod weakly.
“She broke up with you?” Royal slaps his hand on the counter. “I knew it. That?—”
Magnus and CJ slide their arms under mine and hoist me to standing. Then, as if I were injured on the field, they lead me toward the door.
The world is a blur until we’re seated in the sunroom at theFrigate at the Driftwood. It’s where Chip stayed before his passing.
They drop me into a leather chair. I have the vague notion that Magnus sits down opposite me, elbows resting on his bent knees. As always, feet planted firmly on the floor. CJ gazes out the window. Royal returns after a short time with refreshments.
“You have such a hard time loosening up,” CJ says to Royal.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“For instance, you don’t wear island-appropriate attire.”
“You mean I don’t look like a hobo, like you, in baggy shorts.”
“They’re quick drying.” CJ tugs the hem.
“I’m running a business. I wear business-appropriate attire.”
