Page 2 of Hargrave Health Kick (Brookwell Island)

Chapter Two

Veronica’s shopping required a bit of time and patience with traffic on the bridges but she managed to collect everything Flaxman had requested with only three stops.

Intrigued by a few things herself, she picked up some items for sister-night tomorrow.

More and more, she enjoyed the extra time with her sisters, reconnecting and bonding in new ways as adults.

They would never agree on everything—she wouldn’t want that anyway.

Their differing opinions amused her, and she often got a kick out of setting off debates between Celeste and Natalie.

She considered it a middle-sister imperative.

Of course, they would turn on her when they caught on, but the entertainment value was still worth it.

According to their new sister-night habit, she would pick tomorrow’s movie. Right now, still annoyed by their guest, she was feeling all kinds of violent action film vibes.

She needed to change-up her mood. Parking on the street in front of the Hideaway, she realized she only had a few minutes to adjust her attitude.

Deep breath. Big smile. Happy thoughts.

She sent a text message to the contact number to let Flaxman know she was here.

Then she gathered up the shopping bags and started toward the house.

Just down the street she recognized a compact pickup truck—charcoal gray with a South Carolina state flag plate on the front.

The driver would be part of the Guardian Agency security team.

She and her sisters had hired the extra security after someone had snuck onto the property and burned down their outdoor kitchen.

No one had attacked the Hideaway since, though the police had yet to identify the arsonist. Though the case remained open, the authorities admitted they weren’t sure the culprit could be found.

Personally, she hoped it was just some dumb kid who’d been bored during a vacation.

Thinking of it as mischief that got out of hand was easier for her to accept than contemplating something more deliberate or sinister.

The police had interviewed everyone with the loosest connection to the house and found no whiff of a motive.

Arson and security concerns weren’t happy thoughts.

She distracted herself with the knowledge that profits were up—even without an outdoor kitchen—since they changed up the business model to a full-house rental.

That put a sincere smile on her face as she crossed the courtyard and rang the bell at the sliding glass door that led directly to the kitchen.

Of course, Flaxman immediately tested Veronica’s commitment to happier thoughts. She yanked open the slider. “I expected faster service,” she snapped. “Don’t expect five stars or a tip from me.”

Veronica didn’t bother to correct the erroneous assumption that she was a delivery service as opposed to the property owner. “My apologies, ma’am. Enjoy your stay on the island.”

Flaxman whipped around, her gaze severe. “Do you know the owners?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tell them I am disappointed and we will not be rebooking. They’ll be lucky to get three stars from us when I leave my review. I booked this house, expressly for this kitchen, only to discover that we’re too far from any reliable stores and markets.”

Veronica managed not to mention that never seeing Flaxman again would be cause for celebration on her part. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll relay the message. Is there anything I can do while I’m here?”

“What do you know about vermin?”

“Pardon?”

Flaxman folded her arms. “I filed a maintenance complaint, but haven’t heard any reply.”

She hadn’t seen a maintenance report come through, though Celeste usually handled that kind of thing.

“That’s troubling,” she said, studying the chef.

Flaxman, in her tank top and leggings, struck her as too skinny.

She wondered if the woman was ill and the lighting and makeup hid those issues for the cameras.

“If you have time to point out the issue, I’m happy to take a look while I’m here. ”

Flaxman shouted over her shoulder and another woman hustled into the kitchen. “Marley.” She flicked her hand at Veronica. “Show this person what woke us up last night.”

Marley smiled with far more patience than Veronica would’ve managed in her place. “Of course.”

Before Veronica could step forward, Flaxman flapped her bony hands and shooed her out. “Go around. It was outside.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Marley scurried through the door. “This way.” She pointed away from the beach, toward the back of the house. As soon as they rounded the corner, she apologized for her boss. “Please forgive Susannah’s attitude. It’s been a difficult season.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Veronica replied.

“We’ve dealt with grumpy guests before.” It was easier to be nice to the assistant.

“We would love for all of you to have a good time during your visit,” she added sincerely.

“But I understand how it is when things don’t go right and it casts a shadow over everything. I am sorry she’s not enjoying herself.”

“Between you and me, I’m not sure she’d enjoy much of anything right now, but thank you for understanding,” Marley said. “You do a lot of personal training videos and post training tips on social, don’t you?”

Startled, Veronica stopped short. “Yes, I do.”

“It’s a compliment,” Marley assured her. “I’ve seen your comments on Susannah’s posts.”

“I’m a fan,” Veronica admitted.

“And that shines through.” Marley smiled. “You are one of the reasons I suggested this spot when we were looking around. I hope you’ll still be a fan after this week.”

Veronica nodded. “I’m certainly not about to bad-mouth a guest. Everyone has something going on.”

“I’m guessing you wanted to collaborate with her.”

“I’d hoped for a few minutes to connect,” Veronica admitted. “It’s okay that she’s not in that space. She’s here as a guest and that’s what matters most.”

Marley reached into the pocket of her shorts. “Please take my card. Maybe sometime in the future you and I can collaborate on a different project, without Susannah. Until then, I’ll do my best to redirect her irritation.”

“Thanks.” Veronica stared at the assistant. “She’s sick, isn’t she?”

Marley nodded, tears filling her eyes. “She came her to create some extra content for nutrition during illness.”

“Not as a cure?” Veronica asked before she could censor herself. “I sound judgmental and I’m sorry. That’s not how I meant it.”

“It’s a valid concern,” Marley murmured. “She’s giving nutritional advice, not medical advice. We’re being very careful with that. But she has found a few foods and eating patterns that helped during her chemo.”

“I get that.” Veronica sighed. “My mother had cancer. I studied every nutritional option available to help her overcome the symptoms, if not, the disease.”

It was another no-win, caught-in-the-middle milestone in her life.

She still struggled with having done her best even knowing nothing could have changed the outcome.

“I remind myself it helped her a little. Me too, by giving me some special time with her.” She marveled that her heart—crushed in the vise of emotion—could still function.

“But about Susannah,” she rallied. “What upset her last night?”

“Well, I heard an owl, and then what sounded like an all-star wresting cage match in this area.” She stopped and pointed up to the second floor. “Right under Susannah’s bedroom window.”

“Of all the places for wildlife to get crazy,” Veronica muttered.

“Exactly my thought,” Marley agreed. “At her insistence, I came out with a flashlight and heard something scuttle off into the trees.”

Veronica was confident that the trouble was wildlife related. Any human troublemakers would’ve been caught by the security team. “I’ll go ahead and poke around to see if there’s anything here that might draw more critters in. If I find anything, I’ll handle it.”

“Thank you.”

“No promises, though. Nocturnal critters have their own agenda.”

Marley smiled. “I understand. I’ve been trying to talk her down.”

Veronica sympathized with the assistant. “Just remember it’s not you. My mom had those days. Though physically she hurt more, sometimes I thought maybe my heart would break under the challenge. Take the time to be nice to yourself as well as to her,” Veronica advised.

“Thanks. We appreciate your compassion and understanding. Though only one of us will say so.”

Veronica pulled out her phone and took a couple of pictures and then rooted around behind the landscaping.

She recognized signs of a tussle. The mulch was stirred up and a chunk of rabbit tail had been left behind.

She wondered if the owl—the most likely culprit—caught the rabbit or had to start the hunt over.

Without much confidence of finding a trail, she walked from the house toward the thick stand of trees that marched along the property line. It was impossible not to remember that whoever had set the fire had tossed the fire extinguisher into those same trees.

She didn’t bother fighting the tremor that skated down her spine. Once it passed, she dialed Nash Billings, their landscaper, to ask for advice. He picked up right away and she heard the dull roar of a mower and leaf blowers in the background.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she began. Quickly, she explained what she could see and texted a picture of the fluffy tail and dislodged mulch.

A moment later, he said, “You’re right. That looks like an owl hunt.”

“But an owl wouldn’t have made any noise heading back into the trees,” she said. “I don’t see obvious tracks.” It was hard to imagine something loud enough to disturb the guests would be light enough not to leave a trail.

“Could have been a snake after the same rabbit,” Nash pointed out.

“Well, there’s an image I’ll need to forget before bedtime.”

“Sorry.” He smothered a chuckle with a cough. “Should I start calling you Indiana Jones?”

“No, thanks.”