Wuthering Kites Read online

  “Thank you, Sunny. I was ready to throw a dinner roll at him,” Claire said. She ventured a smile, and I was happy to see Dustin join in.

  He pulled out his phone and checked it. “No message from Allison. If she doesn’t make it tonight, maybe she’ll stop by Rock Point after the funeral.” He looked around the table with a mischievous smile. “She hasn’t seen my yacht yet.”

  “Your yacht?” Claire said, eyes widening.

  He hitched his thumbs in his belt loops and leaned back. “Why do you think I suggested coming to Rock Point before the funeral? I sailed up from Big Sur.”

  “A yacht?” Jack echoed his sister.

  “It’s docked at the marina. We can go for a cruise after dinner, if you’d like.”

  Again, I gave Sunny the side-eye. Sunny returned my glance. My guess was that it included a calculation of net worth based on the words “yacht” and “Big Sur” with “Dom Pérignon” thrown in.

  “Tell me, Dustin,” Sunny said, her voice all silk. “What do you do?”

  “He’s an inventor,” Claire answered. “He holds a bunch of patents.”

  Dustin’s fair skin pinkened. “Just some commonsense stuff. No big deal.”

  “Big deal,” Matt said. “That is, if you’re in the wine industry.”

  Sunny watched Dustin with interest, and Claire watched with something more—at least, that was the impression I was getting—but, again, Jack looked away.

  “Did you invent a new way to crush grapes?” I asked, glancing at Jack. Was it Dustin or Matt who irked him?

  “Dustin figured out how to remove water from grapes. It’s called a seching machine,” Claire said.

  “The weather’s so unpredictable in the Willamette Valley that sometimes it’s tricky to decide when to harvest,” Dustin explained. “If you harvest too soon, you don’t get the full expression of the grapes. If you harvest too late, you risk grapes getting waterlogged from rain. The seching machine takes away that risk.”

  “The prototype’s at my winery,” Matt said.

  “That must be nice,” I said. “Working together as neighbors.”

  “It would be more than that, if I had my say,” Matt said, his voice picking up intensity. “I’ve spent the past two years trying to convince Gus to sell me the hilly plot adjoining the vineyards. It gets perfect afternoon sun. I told him I’d pay a good price.”

  “Maybe we can save that conversation for a better time,” Jack said. By now I knew how to read irritation in the way Jack clenched his jaw.

  “I’m sorry,” Matt said. “You’re right.”

  “Besides,” Dustin said. “Dad didn’t need to worry about money. I’d made sure that never happened.”

  Sunny’s head swiveled to Dustin. “You must be loaded.”

  I tried to kick her, but she had deftly pulled back her calves.

  “I’m comfortable,” he said.

  “Don’t be so modest,” Claire said. “Dustin has made a lot of money, and he’s generous with it.”

  “And apparently spends a bit on, um, yachts,” Jack added.

  “One yacht,” Dustin said. He watched his glass fill with bubbles as the waiter poured. He cleared his throat. Poor guy, he was actually embarrassed at the talk about him. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about Rock Point.” As if remembering something, he looked straight at me. “I heard there was some excitement at your kite shop this morning.”

  For a few luxurious minutes, I’d actually forgotten I’d found a dead woman in Strings Attached. Now it all came back. I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “I thought we’d agreed before we went to Strings Attached not to bring this up,” Jack said.

  I put a hand on his arm. “No, it’s okay.” I turned toward the others. “I was supposed to be interviewed by a reporter from Sunrise magazine this morning. Instead, she turned up strangled in my shop. No one can figure it out.”

  “No kidding,” Matt said under his breath.

  “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t believe it when Jack told us,” Claire said.

  “Why the shop, I wonder,” Dustin asked.

  “Don’t know. It’s a good question. The doors were locked, too. She wasn’t supposed to arrive for another few hours, but somehow, overnight, she picked the locks, went in, and died.”

  “We don’t have to talk about this. Really,” Jack said.

  “Thanks, Jack.” He had my back, and I appreciated it. “I’ve told you pretty much all I know, anyway.”

  “If you’d like, I can help you with security systems,” Dustin said. “I’m good with things like that.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at his concern. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “When are you going to reopen the shop?” Sunny asked. “Everyone in Rock Point is going to drop by to nose around, you know.”

  I groaned. “I know. If I get up the nerve, I’ll open the day after tomorrow.”

  “Do you want to spend tonight with me and Avery?”

  Claire’s eyes moved from me to Jack and back. We weren’t at that point in our relationship yet.

  “I’ll be all right alone,” I said.

  “I thought—,” Dustin began, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by two waiters bearing food, which was fine with me. Whatever Dustin had “thought” could wait. I was through with thinking. All I wanted was to forget the morning had ever happened.

  chapter five

  The restaurant was nearly empty when the waiter brought us our check.

  “I’ll get this,” Dustin said and pulled the little tray bearing the bill his way.

  “No, Dustin. Let me,” Jack said.

  Claire pushed the tray toward Dustin again. “I say we let him pay, on one condition.”

  “What?” Jack said. His hand and wallet rested on the table.

  “That we go with him for a moonlit cruise. On his yacht.”

  Everyone turned to Dustin. “I’d love to take you all out. I mean, if—”

  Claire clapped her hands together. “Oh, let’s do it.”

  “That is, if you don’t have to get up too early for work tomorrow.” Dustin looked at his watch. “It’s already ten o’clock. I don’t want to keep anyone up too late.”

  “I’m game. I’m not expected anywhere tomorrow,” Sunny said, “if Strings Attached won’t be open.”

  I nodded. “I have three kites to finish, but I can start anytime.”

  Matt rose and pushed in his chair. “I’m sorry I can’t come along. I have to get back to the winery.”

  “Oh, come on, Matt,” Dustin said. “We won’t be out for more than an hour.”

  “It’s a long drive back. How long will you be in town? Maybe I can come out later.”

  “All week.” Dustin embraced Matt and patted him on the back.

  That left Jack. I expected he’d jump at the opportunity to be on the ocean at night. He loved kayaking with Dave, and he never passed up the opportunity for a hike. He could have followed up on his engineering degree by getting a good job with one of the high-tech firms in Portland, but he said he’d moved to Rock Point to live between the forest and the ocean.

  “Come on, Jack. What do you say?” Dustin said.

  “You’ll come, won’t you?” Claire asked.

  Jack’s smile widened at his sister’s plea. “All right. Sure. We don’t have to leave for the funeral until after breakfast.”

  Outside the Tidal Basin, we all fastened our coats. The moon, filtered through a haze of clouds, cast pale blue light over the ocean. Without saying a word, Jack unwound his wool scarf and wrapped it around my neck.

  “The boat’s down there.” Dustin pointed to the marina’s new dock a block away.

  Rock Point hugged a shallow bay, at the center of which was the old dock, a rickety wooden structure fastened to solid but weather-beate
n piers. Local families and most of the fishermen docked their boats there. A few years ago, with the tourist trade building, a developer built the new dock, a modern affair with a guardhouse, wide slips, and all the conveniences a serious amateur sailor would want. Rock Point’s tourist fishing excursion set out from the new dock.

  During the winter, most of the boats here were sealed up with pristine tarps snapped tightly across them. In contrast, the boats on the old dock were used all year, no matter the weather. Some puttered up and down the coast, while others became hangouts for teens or family members who wanted to get away.

  We walked down the new dock, the lights shimmering on the night-blackened sea. Thanks to the thick shroud above, we wouldn’t exactly have a moonlit cruise, as Dustin had suggested. But at least it didn’t look like rain. And the ocean was blissfully quiet, its waves lapping the dock as if it were breathing with the night.

  “That’s it. A 1957 Chris Craft.” Dustin stopped in front of a vintage mahogany-and-white boat that put the old dock’s tubs to shame. I could easily imagine Gilligan’s Island’s Thurston Howell III standing on its prow, cigar in hand.

  “Oh, Dustin! Look everyone.” Claire pulled Dustin in by his arm and then released him.

  “Claire de Lune,” Sunny read the bow. “He named it after you.” She shot me a look.

  “It’s a play on Sea Star, too, isn’t it?” Claire said. “My tattoo shop.”

  “That’s it,” Dustin said.

  “That’s quite a tribute,” Jack added.

  “You sailed it all the way from Northern California?” Sunny asked. “By yourself?”

  “I hired a guy to sail with me. I took sailing lessons, but I learned a lot along the way, too. Don’t worry, I’m perfectly competent to take us on a quick cruise.”

  The yacht felt even bigger inside than it looked from the dock. We crossed its auburn wood deck into a cabin large enough for a seating area on one end, with a bar, table, and chairs, and a couch and row of electric guitars in stands at the opposite end, near the entrance to the helm.

  Dustin set the neon kite on the table. “I’ll hang this in the cabin. The color will be great in here.”

  “Wow,” Sunny said, ignoring him. She picked up one of the guitars. “Nice.”

  Dustin lifted it from her hands. “Careful with that. It belonged to Jimi Hendrix.”

  “You’re kidding.” Jack stared in amazement. “Shouldn’t it be in a museum?”

  “Maybe it will be someday. But it would be a shame to have it locked up. You can’t imagine what it’s like to strum the same guitar Jimi did.”

  While you’re on the deck of your moonlit yacht, I added silently. Wow.

  “What’s below?” Claire asked, looking at the stairs toward the yacht’s front.

  “Two bedrooms, plus another one for crew near the engine room.” He opened the door connecting the cabin to the bridge with its steering mechanism and a panel of dials. “You guys make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll get us moving.”

  I stayed inside with Jack and Sunny as we pulled away from the dock. The boat’s engine was quiet. Through the window to the helm, I saw Claire and Dustin standing close together. Dustin pointed at something, and Claire laughed in response. Rock Point’s lights grew smaller and smaller until they were a twinkle on the horizon.

  “Isn’t it funny how much drama there is on land? Out here, it’s so quiet,” Sunny said.

  “Listen to you, the philosopher,” I said.

  She punched my arm lightly. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes.” I thought of the reporter on my shop’s floor, and her family, who would soon learn about her death.

  “Well, yes, but other things, too,” Sunny added quickly, as if she’d guessed my thoughts. “Like the city council election.”

  I punched her arm back. “Thanks, Sun. I know you’re trying to take my mind off this morning.”

  “Do you think we’ll elect Marcus to the city council? Tibbetts has been in office for so long.”

  “I hope Marcus wins. I adore Tibbetts, but let’s face it, Rock Point is changing,” I said.

  “I saw Tibbetts at the ShopRite last week,” Sunny said. “He was shaking hands and waving to everyone while his wife tossed groceries into their cart.”

  The yacht’s engine dropped to a purr, and the cabin door opened. “You should come on deck and enjoy the view,” Dustin said. “The ocean seems to go on forever.”

  Claire pushed her way past Dustin into the cabin. “It’s cold out there. I’m sitting in here for a while.”

  “Fine,” Dustin said.

  For a moment, the cabin was quiet. Even Sunny seemed distracted—or comforted?—by the boat’s gentle bobbing.

  “I hope Allison keeps the farm,” Jack said out of the blue. “We had so many great years there.”

  “Would she inherit it?” Sunny asked. “I thought you said she was your ex-aunt.”

  “It’s funny. They’ve been separated almost a year, but not divorced. I think Uncle Gus always hoped they’d get back together.”

  “I did, too,” Dustin said.

  “At least he died hopeful,” Claire said. We all sat for a moment, letting that sink in, before she added, “If Allison wants to sell, she’ll have no problem finding buyers.”

  “Like Matt.” Jack stood and stared at the ocean. Besides the pool of light around us, the ocean was dead black. “He harped on Uncle Gus for years to sell him the land.”

  “It will be nice to see Allison, anyway. We spent a week at Big Sur over the summer, but I miss her,” Dustin said. “Maybe after the funeral she’ll want to come back to Rock Point. We can have a sort of family reunion.”

  “That would be great,” Claire said. “Jack has Grandpa’s old house. There’s lots of room there. You’ll come, too, won’t you?” She looked at Sunny and me.

  “I’d love to,” Sunny said.

  “We could invite Dave and Avery,” Jack said. “Maybe a potluck?”

  “Then definitely invite Avery,” I said. “We’ll be guaranteed a stellar pie.”

  After a quarter hour of party planning, Dustin reluctantly agreed we should head back to Rock Point. As the town’s lights grew nearer, I joined Jack on deck. He opened his jacket and put an arm around me to keep me warm. Sunny was on the other side of the boat, and her chatter danced around the soothing hum of the yacht’s engine and the lapping of the waves.

  “You’ll be back tomorrow night?” I asked Jack.

  “Mm-hmm,” he said. “Uncle Gus’s funeral is in the afternoon. Then we’ll have dinner at the farmhouse. I’ll drive back with Claire after that.”

  “Nice,” I said and leaned against him. “I hope things go well tomorrow, but I’m looking forward to having you home. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of death.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Jack walked me the four blocks home. We were quiet for a while, and Rock Point was quiet, too, seagulls bedded down for the night, and the lights out at the few vacation rentals along the beach.

  “Claire seems attached to Dustin,” I said finally. “I mean, more than cousin-wise.”

  “You noticed. She is. Has been since she was a kid.”

  “I can imagine looking up to him, since he’s a bit older.” Sand crunched on the sidewalk underfoot. A good rain would wash it away, but it always found its way from boot to asphalt sooner or later. “They look good together. What about Dustin? Do you get the sense he returns her feelings?”

  Jack made an uncertain noise. “Lately, it seems like he might. We spent a lot of time together as kids, mostly Claire and me following Dustin when he’d let us. Then he went off to college, and Claire and I only saw him at holidays. I guess he’s finally coming around.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “It’s crazy.”

  “What is?”

&
nbsp; “That he’s doing so well. I mean, a yacht, Jimi Hendrix’s guitar . . . You never would have believed it if you could have seen him ten years ago. He was always getting busted for drinking or goofing off at school. I knew he was mechanically inclined, but I was surprised he went to college at all, let alone to get a degree in engineering.”

  The pale blue shape of Strings Attached down the block looked almost gray under the streetlamp. “You don’t sound overly happy about the idea of Claire and Dustin.”

  For a moment, he didn’t reply. Our steps fell in unison. “You’re right. I can’t really say why, either. Dustin’s a good guy.” He squeezed my hand. “Claire would say I’m jealous.”

  “Why’s that? Because he’s rich?”

  “Because we both came from the same background and both got engineering degrees. Now Dustin’s a millionaire, and I run my grandpa’s old kite shop.”

  I laughed. “Don’t knock it. I hear kite shop owners have a sweet life.”

  He smiled and squeezed my hand again. “I don’t knock it at all. This is the life I want.”

  Warmth ran through my veins. I hoped I was part of that life, part of what he wanted. “Then what’s the catch? Are you worried Dustin will hurt her somehow?”

  “He’d never hurt her intentionally.”

  “Then what is it?” Home was less than a block away now. The house stood dark and quiet. No one else was on the street. It had been just like that last night, too. Only that time someone was strangled and left dead. The murderer would have easily been able to slip away without anyone seeing him.

  “I like Dustin, I really do. I’ve known him all my life, and he’s solid. Maybe it’s just that he’s so distracted. Claire’s my sister. I’m protective.”

  I thought of Sunny. “Yes.”

  “I don’t want him getting involved with her unless he intends to make good on it.”

  “You sound more like her father than her brother.” I decided to press my luck. “Will it be uncomfortable to have your aunt Allison at the funeral? I mean, seeing that she and Gus were separated?”