“Why?” Irene says.
Finally, Marilyn looks like someone describing an epiphany. “I guess I realized I could go down with Todd or I could watch him go down alone.” She shakes her head. “Wasn’t that hard of a choice. He killed four people.”
“And he has no idea what you’ve done?”
“None,” Marilyn says. She gives Irene a rueful smile. “You might think he would be more wary of the only person who knows everything.”
“Yes.”
“But Todd doesn’t even see me,” Marilyn says. “He stopped seeing me the second my father handed over the seed money. To Todd, I’m invisible.”
Irene makes a noise of recognition. What had Lydia said during their New Year’s Day dinner at the Pullman Diner? The CIA should hire women in their fifties. We’re invisible.
“Of course, tomorrow that will change.” She places her hands on her thighs and pushes herself to standing. “I should go. I need to get ready to meet Agent Vasco.”
Agent Vasco, Irene thinks. She has completely forgotten about Agent Vasco.
Irene leads Marilyn Monroe to the front door; she wants to hug the woman. “You are…so brave. How can I thank you?”
“No thanks necessary,” Marilyn says. “I was a coward for a long time, Irene. I had a chance every single day to come clean and I didn’t, and now four people are dead. Their blood is on my hands.”
Irene says, “Do you still love him? Todd?”
Marilyn’s eyebrows shoot up; the question has clearly surprised her. “Do you still love Russ?” she asks, but she slips out the door without waiting for an answer.
Because, Irene realizes, there is no answer. Irene watches Marilyn climb into her Jeep. In the movies, this would be where Marilyn’s car explodes into a ball of fire. Irene releases a breath as Marilyn backs out of the driveway and pulls away.
Irene lingers in the parking lot across from Mongoose Junction until she sees the Mississippi pulling up to the National Park Service dock. Huck does the complicated choreography of pulling in and, at the same time, tying up.
He needs a mate, Irene thinks.
The family aboard hop off, a couple and two little kids, one of whom is screaming bloody murder. There are no fish to be filleted, so they must have struck out, even inshore. Irene watches the father tip Huck as the mother carries the kids off.
Irene smiles at her as she passes, but the mother doesn’t see her.
Huck doesn’t see her either. He’s checking around the boat, making sure the family hasn’t forgotten anything. He goes to lift the rope off the bollard, but Irene beats him to it.
He looks up. He’s wearing his wraparound sunglasses so it’s impossible to tell how her surprise is being received.
“Permission to board?” Irene says.
Any given moment can hold an infinite number of thoughts, Irene realizes. She wonders if he’ll tell her to buzz off, that he’s found someone new, Agent Vasco, that Irene has been replaced, sorry. She wonders if she’ll have to cajole her way onto the boat by telling Huck she has finally learned the whole story from none other than Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn Monroe was the woman in the black Jeep with the tinted windows. How will he feel hearing it confirmed that Todd murdered Rosie and Russ? How will it feel to know that Oscar Cobb, of all people, had tried to save Rosie’s life?
Irene travels back in her mind to the first time she ever saw Huck, which was nearly in this exact same spot. She didn’t know him, he didn’t know her, but somehow, somehow, she’d broken down his defenses or piqued his curiosity, and they became friends. More than friends. It was a long shot, Irene thinks, maybe even a miracle. Out of this whole ugly tale of deceit and betrayal, something pure and true was born.
As unlikely as it might be, the friendship is genuine.
Slowly, maybe even hesitantly, Huck spreads his arms. “Permission granted, AC.”
The rope; her shoes. When one boards a boat, there is a protocol. But in the moment, Irene doesn’t care. She jumps—and Captain Sam “Huck” Powers catches her.
St. John
April turns to May, and our high season officially ends. Rates at the hotels and villas drop, restaurants close one night a week to give their staff a much-needed rest, there are finally parking spots at both Trunk Bay and Oppenheimer—and it’s hot, hot, hot.
We also get to see one another more frequently. Did you hear?
Douglas and Paulette Vickers are going to prison for money laundering and fraud. Douglas will serve three years; Paulette, five. Their son, Windsor, is living with Douglas’s sister, Wilma, on St. Croix. He cried every night for a month, Wilma tells her friend Sadie on St. John, and then one day the crying stopped and now he’s the same sunny child he was before. He’s doing well in school, making new friends, asking for second helpings of dessert (which Wilma always gives him, poor, sweet child).
Ayers Wilson is showing a subtle baby bump. She has been to two prenatal appointments at Schneider Hospital and has had all the testing. She and Baker have decided not to find out the gender of the baby; all they care about is that the baby is healthy. Ayers is due September 23. She has opted to stay in her cottage, Pure Joy, until the baby is born. She and Baker are now dating, but they haven’t quite reached “boyfriend and girlfriend” status. Maybe soon, Ayers thinks.
Ayers’s parents, Phil Wilson and Sunny Ray, are the proud owners of a two-bedroom time-share at the Westin; they’re banking their weeks for when the baby comes. They arrive back from a seven-stop jaunt through the Caribbean—Bequia was their favorite, no surprise there—and immediately start planning a summer trip to Croatia. (Everyone raves about the city of Split.) Sunny decides that, instead of pretending to write a travel blog, she will write a travel blog. She calls it Love, Mimi. The blog takes an epistolary form; the entries are descriptive, evocative travel letters from grandmother to grandchild. As soon as Sunny’s Caribbean letters are posted, she receives sponsorship from the AARP and Road Scholar.
Things are happening over on Lovango Cay (which was named for a region of Africa, not because a brothel there in the days of piracy had been so popular that the island was dubbed “Love and Go”). The cay has been approved for fifty bungalows, fifteen glamping tents, fourteen private homes, a restaurant, and a beach club with a swimming pool that will offer daily, weekly, and season passes.
Swan Seeley has been hired to handle the resort’s marketing strategy, but when she saw the architect’s plans, she feared she’d be fired. They don’t need Swan to sell this place; it will sell itself. The design is ingenious—the eco-friendly resort will be the hottest spot in the Caribbean! Swan feels incredibly blessed to be part of it. She’d thought her life was over with the divorce, but she was wrong. The curtain is rising on her second act.
Swan is collaborating closely with both Tilda Payne, who works at La Tapa, and the guy who bought the island, Duncan Huntley. Duncan and Tilda are a couple; they walk around all googly-eyed, holding hands. He calls her mate (he calls everyone mate); she calls him Stallion, which is almost more than Swan can handle. They treat Duncan’s dog, Olive, a harlequin Great Dane that is the size of a show pony, like their child. They speak to Olive in baby talk; they constantly fret over whether Olive is hungry, thirsty, or tired, even though Olive is as chill as an ice sculpture.