Ring of Lies (31 page)

‘
I
—I
don’t know.
I’m assuming she has a mortgage like everyone else. Anyway, w
e’ve never discussed her income.
It’s considered the height of rudeness
and ignorance
to ask
someone what they earn in Britain
.
’

‘
Okay, no need to go on the defensive.
Eat your pasta
before it gets cold
.
’

Grace pushed a forkful of linguine round her plate.
She no longer felt hungry.
Jack’s questions
about
Catherine
made her
realize
that
her sister
still hadn’t returned her calls.
She glanced at her watch, it was too late to call now, but
she’
d
try again
in the morning, assuming there was a phone in the house.

‘
You’re not eating,
’
Jack said, breaking into her thoughts.

‘
Sorry, I was just thinking about
my friend, Olivia.
She’
s
due to have her baby in
few
weeks
’
time
.
’
Grace
stare
d pointedly at Jack, with the hope that
he’d
tell her about his daughter, but his expression remained unchanged.
She
looked down at her plate but
felt his eyes watching her
.
She
scooped up a forkful of pasta and made a show of enjoying it, even though it was cold.

As they lingered over coffee a
tall
, thin
man
with
jet-black
hair, tied back in a
ponytail
,
approached their table.

‘
Hey,
Mrs.
Lattide.
I didn’t know you and Lionel were back on the island.
’

Caught off guard, Grace sat there
d
azed and shaken.
She put down her cup and looked at the stranger.
Dressed Bermuda shorts and a brightly
multi-
colo
u
r
ed T-shirt, he looked no different than any of the other dinners.
It was only when Jack nudged her foot with his own that she managed to mutter,
‘
I
-
I’ve only just arrived.
Forgive me
.
I’m not very good with names
.
’

‘
That’s
okay;
we
only met once
.
I’m Pete
Jacobs
.
I
run
the
island
seaplane charter.
I
fl
ew
Lionel down to the Keys a couple
times
when he was last over
.
’

‘
Then you
w
on’t know that Da
…
that
Lionel
is dead
?
’

‘
Wow.
I’m
really
sorry
to hear that
,
Mrs.
Lattide.
What a shocker.
I had no idea.
How’d it happen?
’

‘
He died in a
car accident
.
’

‘
That’s tragic.
He was such a fun guy, you know.
Always laughing and joking.
He was one of my best customers.
I’ll miss him.
Well, if there’s a
nything I can do for you, you let me know, you hear?
’

‘
Thank you,
I will.
’

Nervously, Pete backed away and sped out the door.
Grace
slumped over
the table
, her face contorted with worry.
She didn’t want to believe what she’d just heard, didn’t want to think she’d
spent ten years living a lie.
But she couldn’t deny the facts any longer.

‘
All along
I’ve
thought this
is some sort of
nightmare and
that
I’ll
wake up and
find
everything
has returned
to normal.
That Daniel is still alive.
Now
,
I don’t even know who I married.
Lionel
Lattide
or Daniel
Elliott
?
’
She smiled sadly at
Jack
.
‘
I feel dirty, used.
W
ho
was
Daniel
?
I don’t have any idea.
Isn’t that terrible?
’

Jack reached across the table and took her hand in his.
His grasp was war
m
and comforting.
His fingers slipped around hers with assurance.
He squeezed her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘
This isn’t the place for such a profound
discussion
.
You sound
like you’re having a hard time breathing
.
D
o you need your medication?
’

‘
I’m—
’
H
er voice broke, so she shook her head.

‘
Then l
et’s get out of here.
’
He downed the last of his coffee, and
threw some cash on the table
.

Grace staggered to her feet.
Jack
slipped his arm around her waist and
escorted
her to door.
She
leaned into him
.
He felt solid, reassuring
,
yet s
he knew she ought to pull away
.
She
felt her pulse
quicken
, her instinctive response to him so powerful
that
she stumbled
again
.

Jack’s grip on her waist tightened.
A sigh escaped her lips
. I
f only
she hadn’t had such strong principles and
he
wasn’t married, things could be so different.
As it was…
she pushed the thought from her mind.

The
streetlights
cast amber
colo
u
r
ed halos into the early evening dusk as they
returned to
his
car
.
Jack
helped Grace
into
t
he passenger seat,
then walked
round to the driver’s side
,
and climb
ed
in behind the wheel.
F
ive minutes later,
he
drove through the gates of Sand Dollars and down the
dark,
tree-lined
circular drive.

When n
o lights came on
and n
o dogs barked
, he
opened the
driver’s door
and
strode
up
to
the
house
.
The porch light came on, triggered by a motion sensor, but the solid oa
k door remained firmly closed.

Grace
stepped
out of the
vehicle
to t
he
distant
sound of waves crashing upon the shore and the tang of salt filled air.
She gazed up at the house, reluctant to enter.
One and a half storeys high
,
surrounded by trees
and
a
lush tropical garden filled with hibiscus and palms
, it stood in
semi-
darkness,
the large bay windows shuttered
and bare.
A screened porch ran down the side of the house towards the sand dunes
behind
.