Page 66 of The Summer Inn on Plum Island
“You’re still angry and processing everything you’ve been through,” Dawn reasoned. “It’s only natural that you’re not going to want to serve the very profession that failed you.”
“I guess I can’t just blame the law, really,” Ben acknowledged. “It’s the wholeguns don’t kill people, people kill peopleargument.”
“It’s not the law itself that fails; it’s how it’s enforced and defended that determines the outcome.” Dawn tried to apply the analogy Ben had made to apply to being a lawyer.
“Something like that.” Ben sighed and stared at the horizon. “For ten years, I sat, never knowing if I’d see a sunset on the sea again.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Then, thirteen months ago, my sister came to see me, and I nearly cried when she said I’d be free within a month.”
Dawn sat staring at him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. For years, she’d blamed all her brother’s trouble on Ben. The moment Ben and his twin sister Clem’s family bought the house beside the Blackwells, it seemed their lives had all changed. Wade and Ben had instantly become best friends, and Wade had fallen for Clem.
“So you’ve been out for a year?” Dawn didn’t know if that was something you could discuss or not, but it was too late now. The question had popped out of her mouth before her brain could stop it.
“Yes.” Ben nodded. “I got one year off my prison sentence.”
“Good behavior?” There Dawn went again, saying the first thing popping into her head.
“Good lawyer, faithful friends, and an amazing twin sister,” Ben smiled, “who is also my attorney.”
“I believe Clem is an amazing attorney,” Dawn said.
“Yes, she is,” Ben agreed proudly. “I knew she would excel. Especially after she divorced that idiot, Arno, who she was married to.”
“That’s right, she married Arno Littleford,” Dawn remembered, and her eyes widened. “Oh, dear.”
“Oh dear… what?” Ben’s brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed.
“Uh… This wasn’t my doing because I don’t rate him as being a good actor,” Dawn elaborated. “In fact, he isn’t the type ofperson I wrote the part for at all. But the new CEO of Blackwell Productions insisted we give him a try.”
“Arno!” Ben’s voice was flat. “Figures.” He shrugged. “He’s one of Brat Blackwell’s besties, or besties by association.” He shook his head, his eyes darkening with a flicker of disgust. “I can’t believe she’s about to become the CEO of Blackwell Productions.”
“Well…” Dawn’s face scrunched up. “She’s going to be joint CEO with her brothers.”
Ben snorted. “Brat Blackwell couldn’t be too happy about that!”
“Why do you and Bailey hate each other so much?” Dawn asked with a resigned sigh. “I could never understand the animosity between the two of you. Wade and Bailey grew up together and were like brothers and sisters. It was good for both of them as her brothers are twenty-odd years older than her, and I’m fourteen years older than Wade.” Her eyes searched Ben’s for answers, but they were blank. “All they had since Bailey was a toddler was each other.”
“Maybe you should speak to Brat Blackwell about that,” Ben suggested. “Or even Wade.” He raised his brows, pursed his lips, and nodded. “He came to understand it after the third or fourth time we got tangled up in one of the Brat’s messes.”
Dawn exhaled deeply, sinking back as she gazed across the ocean. With the rising sun, the darkness receded, transforming the once ominous, ink-black waters into a shimmering expanse of blue. The dawn’s light, like a painter’s brush, restored the sea’s vibrant hues, unveiling a world reborn under the golden glow of morning.
“Have you spoken to Bailey or seen her since you’ve been out?” Dawn asked, giving up trying to censor her questions.
Her curiosity wanted to know what it wanted to know. It was also a night to have Ben’s full attention with nowhere to escape. Okay, there were loads of places he could escape to on the yacht, but she’d just follow him. Even in the light of day, the empty, lifeless yacht was creepy, like some post-apocalyptic scene in a movie. She frowned.
Would zombies swim in the sea?Dawn bit her lip.Why don’t they have the survivors of a zombie apocalypse live on boats?
“Hello?” Ben ran his hand in front of her face. “Are you still in there, or have you escaped into one of your stories?”
“Sorry,” Dawn said, shaking her head. “What did you say?”
“I said the bratty Blackwell was a regular visitor of mine in prison,” Ben surprised her by saying.
“Seriously?” Dawn looked at him in amazement. “She was so… so venomous toward you at the trial, I’d never have thought she’d visit you.”
“It’s amazing what a guilty conscience and fear of exposure will make a person do,” Ben said cryptically. “At first, I refused to see her. But, as is her nature, Bailey kept coming back until I did see her. Then she came back at least once or twice a month.”
“I’d say that was very nice of her,” Dawn said. “She obviously forgave you and wanted to clear the air.”
“Uh-huh.” Ben breathed and nodded. “Of course, that’s what you and her family believed was the reason for her endless irritating visits.” He blew out a breath. “It was such a relief when she went to England. But then she’d call or write to me and make a point of visiting when she was home on vacation.”
