On Ocean Boulevard Read online

  “That pugnacious prick,” she said. “What about him?”

  “You know he’s in commercial real estate.”

  Cara shook her head, vaguely annoyed that he thought she’d know this.

  “Anyway, a few months back, we were out on the golf course, and he let me in on a land deal he was involved in. Seems he knew about a piece of land that was going to be rezoned. Very inside.”

  Cara nearly groaned aloud. Palmer could never resist a get-rich-quick scheme. “What was it this time?”

  “A new overpass was planned off Meeting Street that would bring in a lot of traffic to the area. I’m not a total idiot. I asked to see the plans. It was a prime location once that overpass was built. Just waiting to be developed as a commercial property. The property could be bought for significantly less than its value would be after the overpass was finished.”

  “If it was such a good deal, why was he telling you? Why didn’t he buy it for himself?”

  “Well, he did. Or rather, we both bought parcels.”

  “Let me get this straight. You bought this parcel of land,” she said in a flat voice. “With the money you’d saved from the sale of your house. The money you needed to finish the construction of the island house.”

  Palmer closed his eyes, seeming pained, and nodded. “Yes.”

  Cara swore under her breath. “Go on.”

  Palmer wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. He had paled, and she hoped he wasn’t going to have a heart attack—then wondered if he even had life insurance.

  “Well, see,” he began again, shifting in his seat. He seemed anxious that Cara understood. “The overpass was approved, okay? Slated to be built. I checked it out. That much was true.”

  “Okay…”

  Palmer rubbed his jaw. “But not where Simmons said it was going to be built. The overpass was moved to another part of town.” He spread out his hands. “The land I bought was pretty much worthless.”

  Cara felt her face heat up. “What happened to the land that he bought?”

  “Turns out, he didn’t buy any land. He owned the land I bought and used the money I gave him to buy a different piece of property.”

  “Let me guess. The property that would benefit from the new overpass.”

  “Bingo.”

  “And you call this guy your friend!”

  Palmer’s face colored. “Not anymore. I call him a son of a bitch.”

  “You were dealing with Simmons Pinckney. What did you expect?” Cara put her hand to her forehead. “Palmer, you’re an idiot!”

  She was furious. At Simmons, true. But also, at her brother. Her mother had always said “Palmer is on the prowl” when he was up to no good. Looking for the next deal, the way to make a fast buck. Just like their father. For years Cara had gone toe-to-toe with Palmer about the beach house property. His dream had been to buy the piece of land that sat in front of the Isle of Palms house; he’d spent years sniffing out who owned it. He’d tried to get Cara to go in with him, to sell her beach house and use the money so he could build two houses, one behind the other, thus providing both houses with valuable ocean views. Except that Cara would never sell the beach house. It had infuriated Palmer. That, and the fact that he couldn’t find out who owned that adjacent piece of land.

  Until two years earlier. Cara had come to the decision it was time to share with her brother the truth about that property. It was a delicate secret, one that had to be maintained, for their mother’s sake. Lovie had been given that property and she’d held fast to it, quietly, never telling a soul about it until she’d left the land to Cara. Palmer had been floored to learn that all this time it was Cara who owned that undeveloped beachfront land. His frustration later turned to gratitude when Cara shared her plan of building a spec house together. Cara would put up the land for the deal; Palmer would invest the money from the sale of his house on Tradd Street in Charleston. The idea was that in the end, they’d both benefit from their mother’s bequest.

  But now Palmer had gone and ruined the deal. And this time, he was taking her down with him.

  “I could just…”

  “Go ahead,” Palmer said. “Take that glass and pour your tea over my head. Tar and feather me. I deserve it.”

  “You deserve much worse,” she told him. “But what you’re going to do is find a way out of this mess.” She fumed. “Can you sue?” she asked him. “Get your money back?”

  Palmer shook his head, grimacing. “I tried. I threatened to haul his sorry ass to court. But what would I claim? He sold me a piece of property. It was all straight-up legal. When I told him I’d expose his lies, do you know what he did?”

  Cara shook her head.

  Tears flashed in her brother’s eyes. “He laughed at me.” Palmer sharply turned his head, cleared his throat, then took a long gulp of his tea. When he faced Cara again, he was more in control.

  “Simmons said, ‘Who are they going to believe?’ Well, I told him that they’d believe me, the name Rutledge still had some influence in this town.” He stopped again and rubbed his chin.

  Cara waited again, giving him time. His dignity.

  “He said…” Palmer swallowed hard. “He said, ‘Your name doesn’t carry the weight it once did.’ ”

  Cara felt her fury bubble up and wished she’d kicked that sorry boy’s nuts a lot harder. She exhaled, then put her forehead in her palm. She didn’t know what to say. Much less what to do.

  “I’m sorry,” Palmer said.

  She let her palm drop and saw the defeat in his eyes. Her own eyes narrowed. “Are you drinking again?”

  Palmer didn’t try to cover it up. He nodded with shame. “Yes.”

  “You’ll have to go back to AA.”

  “I’ve already made plans to go to a meeting Tuesday. I feel like shit.”

  Cara felt a surge of relief. “And you have to tell Julia.”

  He shook his head, and Cara straightened, putting her hand on his arm.

  “You have to,” she repeated firmly.

  “I can’t hurt her again.”

  “She’s not some child you have to protect. She’s your wife. And she’s tough. What are you thinking? She stuck by you through the last shit show. She’s earned the truth. And to be honest, she already suspects. Because, brother mine, I’m warning you. If you don’t tell her, and she finds out, she will leave you.”

  Palmer’s face froze with fear at the possibility.

  Cara exhaled her tension and tried to regroup. “How much money do you have left?”

  “Some. Not enough to finish.”

  Cara sighed with frustration. There was so much left to do on the house. She rubbed her cheek in thought. “Did you pick out all the appliances yet?”

  He nodded.

  She let her hand slide to the bar. “I’m guessing they’re not GE.”

  “No ma’am. Julia did the design. It’s all top-of-the-line. They’re ordered and delivered. Ready to install.”

  “Do you have enough to do a rough install? To get it ready for sale?”

  Palmer shook his head. “No. That’s why I called off the guys.”

  Cara made a quick decision, the kind she was good at. “Then we have to sell as is. We’ll take a hit. But we should do better than break even.” She shook her head with regret, not for herself but for her brother. “This was your big chance, Palmer. Why couldn’t you wait?”

  He returned a sorrowful smile. “I thought I’d found my next project. The golden ticket.”

  “Oh, Palmer, when are you going to learn? There is no golden ticket. The only thing that pays off is honest hard work. What’s that quote? The smallest deed is better than the greatest intention.”

  Palmer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, but clearly it wasn’t. She felt weary, deflated, but not all that surprised. She’d chosen Palmer as her partner. Cara had been counting on the money from the sale to pay for her wedding. Now… well, she would think about that
tomorrow.

  “Go home,” she told Palmer, reaching out to pick up the tab. “Talk to Julia. And a good real estate agent. You need to put the house on the market. Now.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sea turtle eggs usually incubate in the nest for forty-two to sixty days, depending on environmental factors like temperature, time of year, and geographical location. Quiet during the heat of day, once the sand cools the hatchlings scrape with their flippers upward through the sand and broken shells, working together to rise to the surface like an elevator. Then they wait.

  LINNEA ALWAYS FELT more herself once she was out on the beach, even on a blustery, cloudy morning such as today. Rain was in the forecast. They needed it. Still, she hoped they’d make their rounds before it fell. She stood at Breach Inlet and looked out over the ceaselessly choppy, turbulent water toward Isle of Palms. Sunny or cloudy, this confluence of the Atlantic Ocean and the Intracoastal Waterway was always wildly tempestuous.

  The tide was out, revealing the large swath of shoreline that had grown with accreted sand from the north. It stretched to a narrow tip far out into the inlet, tempting tourists to stroll out, ignoring the warning signs. Locals knew how fast the tides could rush in, how they could catch you unaware if you were foolish enough to wander out. Still, the determinedness of nature, her wily ways, her unpredictability, and always her breathtaking beauty never failed to inspire Linnea.

  As she stared out at the sea under the storm-ridden skies, her thoughts turned inward. Once again, memories of Gordon’s face, inches from her own, invaded her thoughts. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel he was studying her, searching her mind, sorting through the files, researching who she was. His concentration was both exciting and intimidating. But that face… She smiled, bringing it to mind. His boyish look of innocence was always a contradiction to the intensity. She sighed and wearily shook her head. She was falling for this man.

  A quick glance at her watch told her it was 6:45 a.m. She breathed out a plume of air and searched the parking lot behind her. She was meeting Pandora for their scheduled beach walk. She stuck her fingers in her windbreaker, rehearsing in her mind what she might say to her about Gordon. Her emotions were as tempestuous as the inlet.

  At last, Pandora’s golf cart pulled into the parking lot. Linnea watched her climb from the cart and grab her gear; spotting Linnea, she waved and began the trek to the beach. Her long legs quickly crossed the lot. Pandora wore a green Turtle Team T-shirt that matched her own. Linnea felt a burst of admiration when she saw Pandora bend to pick up a plastic bottle from the parking lot. She made a show of waving it high in the air, then tossing it into her South Carolina Aquarium recycled plastic bag.

  Linnea applauded as she approached. “Good morning! Well done!”

  “Just doing my part.” She looked up at the sky. “Looks like rain to me.”

  “We need the rain. If we hurry, we might just beat it.”

  “You realize,” Pandora said, “that I only awakened at this ungodly hour for you.”

  Linnea said. “It’s for the turtles.”

  “Whatever,” Pandora said with a loud yawn.

  “Look at that sea. This beach. No one is out here. Come on. You love it.”

  Pandora slanted her a glance. “You owe me. Besides. I haven’t found any tracks yet.”

  “Patience. There’s no guarantee you’ll find a nest. Some volunteers have walked for years and not found one. It’s a matter of luck.”

  “Coming from a girl who takes a stroll and finds the first nest and the turtle.”

  “Some people are born with the knack, I suppose.” When Pandora gave her a fist bump she laughed. “Honestly, Pan, you know there aren’t that many nests on Sullivan’s Island.”

  “I don’t care. I’m only doing this so I can see a nest emerge.”

  Linnea knew this was her opening. “Well, you’re in luck. Tonight we’re going out to check the first nest.”

  Pandora swung her head around, eyes wide. “Really?” Then her smile fell. “Wait. Tonight? Bollocks. I have a dinner date tonight.” She frowned. “But the nest doesn’t hatch until late, right?”

  “No guarantees. Usually, that’s true. If it rains, however, the sand will cool and it likely will be earlier.”

  They walked farther. “Well,” Pandora said at length, “I suppose I could try to reschedule dinner. What are the odds it will emerge tonight?”

  “Let’s take a look. The nest is right on the dune coming up. We have to check it anyway.”

  They angled from the high tide line at the beach to the nest sitting on the small dune. Orange tape on wooden stakes encircled the nest, marking it as protected by federal law. This was Linnea’s nest, the one she’d observed being laid by that glorious mother on that fateful morning. She felt territorial about it, as a mother might. When they were near, Linnea instructed Pandora on what to look for.

  “We search to see if there’s any disturbance. Sometimes the roots of plants encroach on the nest. And, of course, we must be on the lookout for ghost crabs. If ever you see a ghost crab hole in the nest, call the team number and they’ll come check it out. Don’t ever poke your fingers in it or do anything inside the orange triangle of space. Our role is to observe and report only.”

  “What’s the fun in that?”

  “It’s the thrill of the hunt. But let’s remember, our job is to protect the turtles, not to have a good time,” she chided her.

  “Oh, I know. I just love to tease you when you get into your professorial role.”

  “Sorry. I get a bit excited about all this. Especially this nest.”

  “It’s your baby. I get it.”

  Linnea crouched low to investigate the sand over the nest. The blustery wind swept the beach, but she saw a small crater in the center of the nest “Look here,” she said to Pandora, excited now. She waited for Pandora to bend low. “See this?”

  Pandora peered down. “You mean that little crater?”

  “Yes. That is a sign that the nest is getting ready to emerge.”

  “Tonight?” Pandora exclaimed, her eyes wide.

  Linnea smiled at Pandora’s excitement. “We can’t be sure when, but certainly in the next few days. This rainy weather makes it more unpredictable. But I’ll be here tonight, regardless.”

  “I don’t want to miss it. I’ll see what I can do. Dumping him might be awkward. Could I bring him?”

  “We aren’t allowed to have crowds at the nest, but in this case, I suppose.” She paused. Speaking of awkward… she thought. Linnea rose and brushed the sand from her knees. Pandora straightened beside her and adjusted her backpack.

  “Uh, Pandora, Gordon will be coming to the nest tonight.”

  “Gordon? Brilliant!” She smiled in understanding. “Of course he is. This is right up his alley.” Then, “How did he know about it?”

  “I told him.”

  Pandora looked confused. “You?”

  “We ran into each other at a meeting earlier this week. He was the main speaker. The topic was microplastics in the ocean.”

  Pandora nodded, putting the pieces together. “He’s a star in that world.”

  “He told me he’s doing research here on plastics ingested by sea turtles. So of course I invited him. Because of his research, he’s a VIP with SCDNR.”

  “Well, this puts a spin on things,” Pandora said. “I suppose I really do have to extricate myself from this date. Too bad. He’s rather a dish. But, oh well.”

  “Pandora, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Pandora waited.

  Linnea took a breath. “Gordon and I went for drinks… after the meeting.”

  “Colleagues do that.”

  “It was more than colleagues having drinks.”

  “You went out with him?” Pandora’s eyes flashed. “But you knew I liked him.”

  “Yes, but honestly, I like him too. Please, let me explain.” She took a breath, aware that Pandora was hanging on every wor
d. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes burned in interest. “I met Gordon before I met you. Out on the beach. There was a spark. But once I knew you’d invited him as your plus-one to the party, that you were interested, I steered clear. You know I did.”

  Pandora didn’t respond. Linnea couldn’t read her straight face.

  “Then we met again at the meeting. He invited me for drinks, and…” She sighed. “Pandora, we really hit it off.”

  Pandora’s cheeks flamed. “You slept with him!”

  It wasn’t a question. Linnea said softly, “Yes.”

  Pandora’s eyes flashed with rage. “I can’t believe you’d do that! There are rules about such things. Codes of conduct. You don’t sleep with another girl’s boyfriend!” She thrust the aquarium bag into Linnea’s stomach and began walking away. “This is bollocks. I quit.”

  Linnea hurried after her. Her heels dug deep into the soft sand.

  “But he wasn’t your boyfriend,” she called out after her.

  Pandora stopped and spun around. “You knew I was interested in him.”

  Linnea caught up. “Yes, I did. And I asked him about that. To make it clear I wasn’t going to interfere. But he said—” She stopped.

  Pandora’s voice went cold. “What did he say?”

  “He said you were friends.”

  She considered this. “We are. So far. You knew I wanted more.”

  “He said you were good friends. Surfing buddies. Like…” Linnea took a breath. “Like brother and sister.”

  Pandora blanched. She didn’t speak for a moment. “Well,” she huffed out.

  “It all happened so fast. I’m sorry, Pan. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I would never. When I heard there wasn’t a relationship between you, and there was no chance for one, I let it happen. I don’t know if I could’ve stopped it. We both felt it.”

  “There’s still the code,” Pandora said coolly. “And you broke it. That tears it with us.”