“No, but we've heard quite a lot about her,” I answered.
“You can't hear about Sass-one has to experience her.” Deborah's grin was wry, but I thought I detected a flicker of pain across her features. “Aunt Sass glues this family together.”
“Blood can be as sticky as glue,” Candace offered unexpectedly. A quick glance told me she was studying Deborah intently, perhaps to see if the mention of blood rattled her.
Apparently it didn't. “Isn't blood what holds a family together?” Deborah shrugged. She sauntered up the steps; I figured she'd misinterpreted Candace's comment.
The third floor held several bedrooms-Deborah indicated her own guest quarters were down the hall, and Aunt Lolly's room was here as well. “She likes to be close to heaven,” Deborah observed while opening a door and gesturing us inside. “Here's y'all's digs. Hope they're comfortable.”
The room was nice, furnished with antique pieces and a braided navy-and-gray rug. Some undetermined wild-flower-lavender in shade-stood in a vase. A mirror, one crack scarring its surface, sat mounted on the wall like a diseased eye. A window opened up to a view over the bay. A small bathroom and large closet completed the room.
“I hope you like it. This is a room I used to stay in when we'd visit when I was little. I asked Uncle Mutt to give it to y'all special. I wanted y'all to feel welcome.” She smiled warmly.
“Thanks very much,” I said. “I'm sure we'll be really comfortable, Deborah.”
“We want you to be, Jordan,” she said softly. “I mean, I'm sure this is very odd for you. It's odd for us, as well. The family, I mean.” A sudden grip of inarticulateness made her flip her palms up, then down. “I don't have the words. I'm so very fond of Uncle Bob Don. I just am glad to know you've found him. I know he'll be a wonderful father to you.”
My throat felt tight. Found him. Wonderful father.
“You didn't tell us what you do, Deborah. Jordan's a librarian, and I run a little restaurant in Mirabeau. How about you?” Candace stayed close to me, watching my new cousin.
“Oh, I'm a nurse. In Corpus Christi. But I do get to visit Uncle Mutt and Uncle Jake a lot here at the house. Aunt Lolly I can do without.” She grimaced even at merest mention of her aunt's name.
“Nursing must be very rewarding work,” Candace proceeded. My tongue felt stapled to the roof of my mouth.
“Oh, it is. Listen, I need to get a few things done before cocktails and dinner. It's not dressy. Come as you are.” She started sidling for the door. “I am really happy to meet you both-”
“Deborah, listen,” Candace interrupted. “Would it be too much trouble for me to get my own room? I'd feel better about being here if I wasn't sleeping in Jordan's room, what with meeting his family and all for the first time.”
A prickle of anger contracted her eyes for a moment, as if Candace's request was a personal jab. Then her face softened and she said, “Of course. Bob Don had just said that y'all were quite the item, so I assumed-forgive my bad manners. There's an extra room at the end of the hall, Candace, and I'll make it up for you.”
“Oh, please, don't go to any trouble, Deborah. Point me in the direction of the sheets and I'll do the work.”
“Don't be silly. For a nurse, making a bed with fresh sheets is second nature.” She rubbed Candace's arm kindly and gave me another smile. “I'll see y'all downstairs for drinks. Tom makes a mean margarita, if you like 'em tart.” Deborah left, closing the door behind her.
“I like her,” I said, sitting down on the bed.
“I like her, too,” Candace said, “and it worries me no end.”
“Why?”
“Because right now I don't want to like any of these people.” Candace sat next to me and draped her arms around my shoulders. “Because one of these people is sending bloodied letters to my baby. I don't want to trust any of them until we know who that is.”
“We're not sure it's someone here on the island,” I offered.
“Then who else? Someone who's not at the reunion doesn't want you here? That makes no sense. And I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know who that is.”
I smiled at her determination to protect me from harm. I'm six feet two, a hundred and eighty pounds, and exercise regularly-Candace doesn't even come to my shoulders. But I pitied the fool who crossed her.
“If you're not letting me out of your sight, hon, why'd you ask for your own room?” I stretched out lazily on the bed, allowing myself to relax for the first moment since setting foot on Sangre Island. I ran a hand down her spine.
She squirmed away, playfully slapping my hand away. “First, I don't give a crap about appearances. But second, whoever's terrorizing you-”
“They're not terrorizing me, I'm not scared of that fool,” I interjected.
She forged ahead. “-will be watching you like a hawk probably, looking for a way to strike at you. Me being down the hall gives us another vantage point to watch over your ass. When you're in your room, that hallway is mine. No one's going to get near your room without me knowing.” She swatted said ass when I stood and reached for her.
“So you're baiting the trap with me and just me, while you watch from a safe distance?” I teased.
“Something like that.” She pressed herself into my arms. Her breath was short and she began to trace a fine web of delight on my back with her fingertips.
I kissed her, and the world seemed far away. I wished this house was empty and it was only the two of us alone on this island, surrounded by the comforting arms of the sea. And that we'd never heard of Goertz millions, gore-speckled letters, or murdered sailors on a beach.
5
I thought I'd seenGretchen wandering out from the house toward the scrubby trees that freckled the island, but I wasn't quite sure it was her moving in the shadows of the branches. Tired of feeling like I was hiding away from my new kinfolks, I felt vast relief when Deborah knocked on our door and offered to escort us downstairs. She'd fixed up a room for Candace, just as promised. Her hug and her reassuring smile were so welcome, I felt a pang of guilt for harboring any suspicions about her being my hate-mail fiend.
We sauntered downstairs quickly to find that the promised cocktail hour had just begun. I had thought that the rest of the family might have come knocking on our doors to meet me, the latest curiosity, but they'd minded their distance. I felt miffed that even Bob Don had not been about, to play kind introducer, but he and Gretchen had both absented themselves. Perhaps my arrival was not such a big deal after all, but at my family reunions, the family actually tended to gather.
“Feel like the Christian heading toward the lions?” Deborah joked as we went downstairs. Candace laid a hand on my shoulder, behind me on the stairs.
“A little,” I confessed.
“Don't be fretful,” Deborah counseled. “I mean, as families go, we're not so”-she paused, casting about for the correct adjective-”bad. I guess. I suppose I'm just used to them. Ignore them if they get tiresome.”
Or threatening, I silently added. I put my smile firmly on, wiped my damp palm on my khakis, took Candace's hand, and followed my cousin Deborah into my great-uncle's large den. I realized I wasn't exactly sure how she and I were cousined. She'd referred to the infamous Sass as “Aunt Sass”; there must be another sibling of Bob Don's that Deborah was daughter to.
It was a handsome room that spoke of an interesting mind. Books lined the walls, many worn with use. A collection of globes lay scattered around the room, so that the world always seemed in easy reach. A stag's head crowned a stone fireplace and its glassy eyes surveyed the assemblage. Drawings of old ships, with careful calligraphied notations, hung next to the stone fireplace. A reproduction of a Republic of Texas battle flag hung in framed honor near the window, complete with singed bullet holes. Bob Don and Gretchen were talking with Tom in the corner.