Page 14

FOURTEEN

GAbrIEL

Wednesday

“Don’t mind Casey,” Elton said after he’d climbed slowly out of his truck again when they were back at his house. “He’s good people.”

Gabriel ignored the comment, instead realizing he wanted to find the older man a massage therapist, a set of portable stairs for his truck, that cane Ranger Man mentioned—anything to make moving his body easier for him.

Not your problem, Chance.

Gabriel normally managed to keep his concern for others hidden—even from himself. A confidence man?—

I prefer con artist, Chance.

—manipulated people’s inherent trust in humanity. Con artists do not trust others. But dammit, Gabriel already trusted Elton.

There is something about Elton, yes. I never did figure it out.

After Elton’s arrival at the docks, Lundin had shot Gabriel yet another stern look and strode off with the dog trotting by his side. Gabe stared after him. Fucking catnip. No matter a person’s gender, Gabe was always drawn to a good stern smolder. He shook his head, willing the attraction to evaporate. He could not be distracted from the real reason he was on Heartstone.

Why did he think this was going to be difficult to focus on if Ranger Man was hanging around?

No accounting for taste, Chance. He has a beard.

Lundin and Bowie had then walked all the way to the end of the dock, where the most seaworthy of the sailboats was moored, and climbed aboard.

“The actual fuck,” Gabe had whispered. It wasn’t possible. The universe could not be this outrageous. And yet.

The boat had rocked back and forth under their weight as they’d disappeared inside it. Gabriel had smothered the stab of jealousy at the fact that the Barbara was in much better shape than The Golden Ticket .

Were they—Gabe winced at the thought—neighbors? Now, that was a fucking ironic thought. He fucking hoped fucking not but also suspected that, as was often the case, his hope was fucked. And moody Ranger Lundin might be a stickler for rules, but he could stick his request to see the title up his ass. Being possible neighbors would not change Gabe’s allergic reaction to following rules.

Gabe wasn’t on Heartstone to be liked. He was there to stay alive.

“Ranger Lundin seems to have a problem with me,” Gabriel commented as he followed Elton to his front door. He’d stewed about the encounter for the entire three-minute drive back to the mobile home. He may not have been on the island to be liked, but he also wasn’t there to be harassed.

Elton shook his head while twisting his key in the lock. “Casey is a good person, feels protective of our little community here. He grew up on Heartstone and both the people and the environment are important to him.”

And, once again, Gabe was reminded he was an outsider. He’d been an outsider all his life. Until recently, that status hadn’t bothered him.

He shoved away the uncomfortable thought that he might want to belong.

Casey Lundin was dedicated to his job, that was clear. And good at it. But then Gabe remembered the trespassing violation and was annoyed all over again. Re-annoyed.

Asshole.

“Why is Lundin a ranger and not a cop?” Gabriel asked. “He sure seems to like enforcing rules.”

The front door swung open under Elton’s touch, and they stepped inside. Gabriel shrugged out of his coat and got a whiff of something unpleasant, abruptly aware of just how badly he needed that shower.

“You’d have to ask Casey that,” Elton replied as he hung his coat up on a wooden three-prong rack behind the door.

Great.

Not gonna happen.

Lying low was not getting tickets and being reported to whatever random law enforcement agency was around Heartstone. No way was he opening a can of worms by asking Lundin what his problem was.

“Does that offer of a shower still stand?” he asked, pushing thoughts of Lundin aside—again.

Elton eyed him, his gray eyes glittering with amusement. “If you think you’re sitting at my table without cleaning up, you have another thing coming, son. While you shower, I’ll give Gordon another ring and see what happened today.” He frowned. “The bathroom’s down the hall.” Elton pointed a crooked finger. “First door on the right. And the spare room offer is still open.”

“Alright, if you insist. I don’t know that I could manage sleeping on the Ticket tonight,” Gabriel said with a grin. “I’ll be right back. I’m grabbing my go-bags out of the car.”

When he returned, Elton was at his table and poking at his phone with a single finger, presumably finding Gordon’s phone number again. Gabriel kept moving.

The bathroom was, unsurprisingly, small. There was no tub, only a corner shower. Privacy was provided by a utilitarian vinyl curtain and behind that was a showerhead low enough that Gabriel knocked his head against it multiple times as he soaped up and rinsed off not just once but twice. At least he missed hitting the still sore spot on his forehead. Finally, he was clean enough and warm again.

By the time he turned off the water, the small room had completely steamed up, becoming a tiny sauna. Even better, the mirror above the sink was totally fogged so he didn’t have to look at his reflection.

After he’d toweled off, Gabriel tugged his final pair of clean Levis over slightly damp legs, noting that the still tender gash in his thigh seemed to be healing well. He could cross tetanus off his mental list of worries. From one of his duffles, he pulled out a black long-sleeved pocket-T and a faded Mariners sweatshirt to complete his ensemble.

With one last swipe of the towel across his head, Gabriel hung it on the rail and grabbed his bag. He debated shaving but decided against it, regardless of the silver specks. For one, he hated to shave, and for two, his stomach was trying to gnaw its way out of his body.

Gabriel followed his nose past mismatched placemats on the table in the main room and peeked in the tiny kitchen where Elton was stirring what Gabe assumed was the famous chili .

“Thanks, Elton,” he said, setting his bags down near the end of the couch before stepping over to lean his shoulder against the kitchen door frame. “That was a religious experience.”

Elton glanced at him. “You could have done that yesterday. Stubborn like your mom, I guess. Do you want the works? Cheese, sour cream, onions?”

“Sounds excellent.”

“That stuff’s in the fridge. If you don’t mind grabbing it and putting it on the table, I’ll bring this out.” Elton shuffled over to the cabinet where he stored his dishes and pulled out two bowls.

Gabriel did as he was told, even if he wanted to grab the heavy pot instead, and have Elton get the toppings. His assistance, he suspected, would not be well received.

“So,” Elton began once they were both sitting and had steaming bowls of chili in front of them, “Gordon never returned my calls.”

“Is that odd?”

Elton spooned a bite into his mouth and waggled his head back and forth as he chewed and swallowed. “Eh. He has property out of town, up The Valley, and sometimes reception is bad—maybe he needed to check something? But I am surprised he didn’t call back.”

“Did you leave a message?” A stupid question, but he couldn’t take it back.

“Twice. Number went straight to voicemail both times.” Elton sounded worried.

“Is he,” Gabriel asked carefully, “a flake? Generally unreliable?”

“I wouldn’t say that he’s a flake, not really.” He scooped more chili onto his spoon. “But not much I can do today anyway. You need the deed of sale for The Golden Ticket ? I heard Casey asking you for it.”

“Yeah, I guess do. ”

“I don’t have it,” Elton informed him after chewing and swallowing.

Gabe froze in the middle of a bite and had to remind himself to finish before responding. “Shit, that complicates things.”

“Not much. It’s just going to take a bit longer than the twenty-four hours Casey gave you. Don’t worry about the timing, I’ll sort it out with him.”

Gabe set the spoon down with a clatter. “If you don’t have it, then who does?”

Elton grimaced and shut one eye, as if whatever he had to tell Gabriel would be better if only one of his eyes were open.

“Your father’s aunt. I’ve just been the caretaker all these years. Nobody’s ever asked me for the deed before.”

“My father’s aunt,” Gabriel said, forming the words slowly as if they were foreign to him. Because they fucking were. “Why the fuck—and I do mean fuck—does family keep popping up out of the fucking blue?”

Elton nodded, watching him over the top of his glasses.

“Heidi really never said anything to you?”

“That’s a big fat nope.” Gabriel swallowed a bit of chili. “Am I meeting this aunt—er, great-aunt?”

“Dunno,” Elton said. “I left a message with her nephew while you showered. We’ll see, I guess. Wouldn’t be surprised either way.”

“Are you going to tell me her name? Or is it a state secret?”

Elton’s lips stretched across his face. Gabriel couldn’t decide if the result was a grimace or if the old man was amused by what Gabriel didn’t know about his blood relations. Maybe Elton felt sorry for him, which, if Gabe was being honest, was the worst of the options.

“Not a state secret. They’re… an interesting family. I think can understand why Heidi never said anything to you. ”

“You’re ahead of me. There’s so much about Heidi I still don’t understand,” Gabriel replied, shoveling more chili into his mouth and abandoning the subject of his mysterious great-aunt for the time being. “Pretty much everything. She never talked about family, never introduced me to anyone biologically related, never mentioned her past. If she and you were cousins, you’re the first bio family I’ve ever met.”

“Like I said, Heidi is the one who said we were,” Elton reminded him. “I never had reason not to believe her, but I don’t know that it’s factually true. But how about we just go with it, and we can be family. Not that I’m giving you access to my bank accounts,” the old man added with a laugh. “I knew Heidi Karne, and I damn well wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Probably for the best,” Gabriel agreed, letting the idea of “being family” slide for now. He did feel a weird need to defend his mother’s actions or at least try to explain her motivation. What Gabriel understood of it anyway.

“But she wasn’t completely morally reprehensible,” he said.

“Repre-what?” Elton wrinkled his nose.

“Reprehensible—”

“I know what reprehensible means, son, I was just screwing with you. Keep talking.”

Gabe scraped the last of the chili out of his bowl onto his spoon and popped it into his mouth, considering what he wanted to say.

“Mom’s motto was something along the lines of, why not relieve a fool from his money, or jewelry, or bank bonds, or whatever? If she didn’t, someone else would. She was good at it. She never conned someone who couldn’t afford it.” Gabriel took a sip of water.

“She supported herself and me and, ironically, put enough into savings that she was able to retire and live in one of those fancy senior villages. Taught me everything I know, then spent her last years playing penny poker with other senior sharks until she got sick.”

Gabe paused, realizing he’d basically admitted he was also a con man. Had been a con man.

Oh, for Christ’s sake, Chance.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Ugh, how could Gabriel explain that he didn’t feel like he’d lost someone close to him? Not without sounding like a sociopath. Heidi hadn’t been a PTSA mom, but she’d been there for him. Mostly. But she’d kept him at arm’s length, even as a child.

Heidi Karne had made sure Gabriel had a roof over his head, food for his stomach, and clothes to wear that didn’t put a nerd mark on his back at school. And she’d brought Gabriel up knowing the con. He was taught early how to spot weaknesses and take advantage. But Heidi had never invited Gabriel to confess his deepest fears to her, not even as a kid. He rarely acknowledged his qualms. Doubts could be used against a person. Fear, hesitation, misgivings, they all made people weak—and that ruined the con.

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. A massive yawn he’d been suppressing managed to escape from him. He was so tired. And being exhausted made him let his guard down, talk more than he should. Which was not a good thing.

“How about I take care of these dishes?” he said. “Then I think I’ll head to bed if that’s okay with you.” The fatigue had officially stopped creeping up on him and was now leveling a full-on assault; he could hardly keep his eyes open.

“I’ll take care of them tonight, son. There aren’t many. Tomorrow you can do your part.”

Gabriel wanted to argue, but a yawn overtook him again.

“Thanks for dinner and the bed.” There would be plenty of time to argue tomorrow, and the subject probably wouldn’t only be dishes.

In the bedroom, Gabe undressed and pulled on a clean t-shirt, leaving his clothes in a semi-neat pile on top of his go-bag before he crawled under the covers. Out in the main area, he could hear Elton moving around and doing whatever he did to pass the evening. Maybe he worked on that puzzle. Turning onto his side, Gabe pulled the pillow over his head and shut his eyes.