Smits continues, speaking to me now. “I have expressed some concerns about Mr. Vandergriff, but I want to assure you, Sam, that they are not the sort of concerns that would affect him staying the night.”
Ben mutters under his breath and then says, “That’s his roundabout way of saying that whatever horrible crimes I’ve committed, they don’t include stalking, molesting, or assaulting women.”
“No physical violence of any kind,” Smits says. “Nor any actions against women.” He turns to Josie. “Would you have any concerns about Ben staying here?”
“Of course not,” she says. “But I also think I should do it.”
“Then maybe you two can switch shifts tomorrow. For now, you’ve had a long day and Mr. Vandergriff has not. He will stay. You will come home and rest.”
Eighteen
So I have Ben Vandergriff camping in my yard. Maybe I should have the guts to refuse, but I don’t have the strength. Also, if I insist, Josie will stay. I don’t have any cause to reject Ben. Even the sheriff—who obviously dislikes him—has no issue with him staying.
Whatever Austin did to me, I’ve never gotten a hint of those vibes from his brother. Ben’s just here making sure I don’t cheat and, honestly, if I think it through, that’s probably for the best. Ms. Jimenez is correct that I don’t want the will challenged. If anything goes wrong, I’d rather have Ben on board as a hostile witness to grudgingly admit that I didn’t fake a threat.
It’s just past ten when I walk back outside. Ben’s in his tent. I head for the beach and barely make it five steps past his tent before he’s calling, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I look back to see him standing there. “I won’t get close to the water. I’m just… looking.”
“Come back. Now.”
I turn, crossing my arms against a chill breeze. “I’m not five, Ben. I won’t get close enough to get pulled in by an undertow.”
“There’s no fucking—” He bites it off. “Come back.”
I peer at him through the darkness. “What do you think happened?”
“I have no damned idea, but you shouldn’t be here.”
I turn toward the beach and keep walking.
He’s in my path so fast I jump. He backs up, keeping a respectful distance. “What are you doing, Sam?”
“Trying to figure out what happened.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I will only go—”
“I mean you shouldn’t behere.On this property. Not when something has obviously happened to your aunt, and it isn’t a damn undertow. Whatever bullshit game your grandfather is playing, it should not require you staying under those circumstances.”
Does he mean I should be able to leaveandget my inheritance? That was what he suggested earlier, though I figured I’d misunderstood. Now, though, I realize it’s not that improbable. As long as I’m here, his life is on hold “caretaking” both the property and me. As long as I’m here, he needs to put up with the sheriff’s shit. As long as I’m here, he has to face me and all the reminders of his brother’s death.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know this is difficult for you, and it’s not fair.”
“I’m not—” He throws up his hands in frustration. “Whatever. You know what? Let’s fix this, Sam. Offer me a payout again.”
“What?”
“Offer me a cut of whatever you make off this place.”
“I… don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand? Offer me money, Sam.”
I glare at him. “If you’re trying to make a point by turning me down—” I stop as a chill runs through me. Our voices are rising, and I swear I feel the wind pick up. Just like last night, when I argued with Gail.
I’m being silly. I know I am. But my gut whispers that I shouldn’t argue with Ben. Not here.