Page 59 of Just Beachy

Grand and I stare at each other. I give her a “we need to tell her” look.

Grand shakes her head. “Could you tell what they were looking for, Natalie?” she asks, her voice shaking.

When I’m sure I’ve got Grand’s full attention, I mouth, “You need to tell her right now.”

There’s another too long silence. Finally, Grand says, “Please be careful, Natalie. I should be able to get a flight up late this afternoon.”

“No,” my mother says. “I can handle it. And I don’t want you to have to see it this way.” I hear her blow out a breath. “Sean and I will put things to rights. Then I’ll have Maritza come in and do a thorough cleaning.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Grand says almost formally. “I appreciate it. Please don’t—”

This is when I not so gently take my phone out of Grand’s reach and say quite clearly, “There have been several break-ins down here, too. Someone wants something they believe Grand has, and I have no doubt the break-in up there is connected to what’s going on down here.” I come as close to glaring at my grandmother as I’m capable of.

“Good God. What on earth have you gotten yourself involved in, Mother?”

“Don’t you worry about me,” Grand says. “I’m fine and so is Sydney. Luke is looking out for us.”

“It’s true, Mom. Luke’s been great and I know he’s still in touch with friends on the police force up there. I’m going to ask him to reach out to them on Grand’s behalf. Maybe they can figure this out together.”

“All right.” My mother’s voice becomes slightly less shaky. “But you need to be careful and keep an eye on her at all times until I can get back down there.”

Twenty-Eight

“I feel like this mightbe taking ‘keeping eyes on Grand’ ”—yes, I actually use air quotes—“a step too far,” I say as I walk across a patch of sandy white beach where a large group of women stand at easels trying to reproduce Luke’s form on paper. “Tell me about it,” Luke replies, careful to move only his mouth and not his body, which has been posed so that his bare chest and legs are angled just so and the gym shorts that ride low on his hips show off his physique.

“When your grandmother talked me into posing for her figure drawing class, I assumed we’d beinsidethe store, and I’d be wearing more clothing.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t try to talk you into posing nude.”

“Yeah, well, when she brought it up, I reminded her that that would be indecent exposure and I would have to arrest myself.”

I try not to laugh, but when I notice how carefully the class members study him and the looks of longing on their faces as they study each patch of skin and the sinew of muscles, I come pretty close to losing it.

“This is not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny,” I tease, throwing his words to me at the shooting range back at him.

He rolls his eyes, which I guess are the only things he’s allowed to move. “What time is it?”

“It’s three thirty.”

One bare shoulder droops before he catches himself. “The class isn’t over until four fifteen.” He eyes me. “I’m going to need someone to unbend me and buy me alcohol when this is over.”

“You poor thing,” I say. “Do you want me to bring you a margarita from Paradise Grille now? I’ll hold the drink right in front of you and lead the straw to your mouth so that you can take a sip without moving any body parts except your lips. Or you could have the women in the class take turns holding the cup and helping you sip.”

I glance over toward Paradise Grille and fumble to a stop when I notice the man sitting in the shade of an umbrella at the concession stand. His face is shadowed but not obscured. “Do you see who’s over under that umbrella? It’s Brian Boyer.”

“Yeah.” Luke speaks quietly with as little lip movement as possible. “He’s been watching your grandmother the entire time we’ve been here.”

“She hasn’t mentioned him recently,” I say. “I wasn’t sure if they were still seeing each other.”

“Based on what little I’ve been able to observe without moving my head or shoulders, she’s definitely aware that he’s here and doesn’t seem unhappy to see him.”

The faint sound of a ringtone reaches us on the breeze and I’m careful not to turn around. I do, however, watch out of the corner of my eye as Boyer answers, nods, and speaks to whoever called him. Unfortunately, it’s almost impossible to really read lips with only that small corner of my eye.

He ends the call, puts his phone back in his pocket, and I tell myself there’s no reason to believe that the call had anything to do with Grand or is in any way nefarious. Nonetheless, I cross the patch of sand that separates us and take a seat beside him.

“Hi, Brian. I haven’t seen you around for a while. Have you been out of town?” I ask pleasantly.

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