Jill seems to collect her thoughts for a moment. ‘He just… lost his balance,’ she says. ‘The boat was pitching something awful, and waves were washing across the deck– it was slippery. One minute he was there, at the back of the boat, and then the boat dipped suddenly, and he just went over. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I think I screamed. Ted and I tried to find him. We looked and looked. Ted dropped the sails, circled around, and I threw out the life rings, but the waves were so high, and Ted could barely manage the boat. I thought we were going to capsize.’
Lara is transfixed, imagining it.
‘We radioed the Coast Guard for help, but it seemed like forever before they arrived.’ She hesitates, and says, ‘I wanted—’ But she stops.
‘What?’
Jill continues reluctantly. ‘I wanted to turn back to shore after a few minutes– there was no way he survived– but Ted wouldn’t leave him till the Coast Guard arrived. He was absolutely frantic.’
Lara shudders involuntarily at the horror of it. ‘I’m so glad you and Ted made it back safely,’ she says. She reaches for a biscuit and asks, ‘So, what happens now?’
‘I suppose they’ll call off the recovery effort soon.’ Jill admits,looking uncomfortable, ‘We’d been drinking a bit too, earlier. Champagne. Maybe Greg had more than he should have.’
Lara looks down into her coffee cup. She’s not going to ask what she really wants to know. She wants to know who gets the money. It must be at the top of Jill’s mind too. How can it not be? But she’s not going to say anything, out of delicacy. It is too soon. Neither of them mentions it.
Once Lara has gone, Jill takes the tray with the remaining biscuits and empty coffee cups– Lara’s rimmed with lipstick– into the kitchen and sets it down on the island with a clatter. She notices that her hands are shaking. She knows they weren’t shaking when Lara was here, but now that she’s gone, so, it seems, is Jill’s self-control. What an effort that was, to tell Lara her story as planned, as if she didn’t have the sword of Damocles hanging over her head. She presses her hand against her mouth, as if to keep her terrible secret in, imagining what’s on the cameras.
Finally, she takes the cups and puts them in the dishwasher, moving automatically. She reflects on her interaction with Lara and doesn’t think she gave anything away. Lara suspects nothing– why would she?
But she can guess what was on Lara’s mind. She probably wanted to know about the money. That’s all anyone is going to want to know about soon enough. When the news gets out about the money, people will talk. Jill and Ted know that, they expect it. She wonders if Lara will be jealous, if she will be suspicious.
Jill tells herself that she can do this– as long as there were no fucking cameras on the boat.
Chapter Fourteen
AT FIVE O’CLOCK,two representatives from the Coast Guard regretfully inform Ted that the search for his brother’s body has been called off. They again offer condolences, for which Ted graciously thanks them. He also thanks them again, sincerely, for the rescue of him and his wife the previous day, and for their tireless efforts to recover his brother’s body. He can’t thank them enough.
He just wants to go home. His stomach is full of acid from the endless crappy coffee and the hours of dread watching the investigators study Greg’s boat from afar. He wonders what they’ve found. He texts Jill.Recovery effort called off. Am coming home now. Love you.
She answers.K. Come home. Love you too.
The two men are still on theFortune Seeker. As Ted leaves the marina, he hesitates, then turns and walks toward the slips until he is standing in front of his brother’s boat. Agent Ramirez is crouching down on the deck and lifts his head and sees him.
‘How’s it going?’ Ted asks, feigning nonchalance.
Ramirez stands up and walks over to the edge of the boat. Ted doesn’t see the other man; perhaps he’s gone below. He is unsure of what to say; he obviously doesn’t want to ask about the cameras. But as it happens, he doesn’t have to. Ramirez looks down at him and says, ‘In case you’re wondering, we didn’t find any cameras.’
He nods casually, as if it’s all the same to him, but as he begins to turn away, his knees weak with relief, Ramirez says under his breath, ‘I bet that’s a relief.’
Ted turns back and says, ‘Excuse me?’ But Ramirez has already turned away and is disappearing down the hatch. For a brief moment Ted’s not sure he heard it at all. He stands there flatfooted, both relieved and unnerved. Ramirez must have picked up on their alarm this morning when he mentioned the cameras. So he suspects them. But there is no evidence. There is no way they can be charged with murder, not without proof.
His mind races as he drives home from the marina in Lower Manhattan and over the Brooklyn Bridge to Brooklyn Heights. He must tell Jill the good news. They are safe.
When he arrives home, closing the door behind him, Jill comes to meet him in the foyer, looking anxious. He takes her by the arms, looks into her eyes, and says, exultant, ‘There were no cameras!’
He moves past her into the front room and heads directly for the sideboard. ‘I need a drink.’
‘How do you know?’ she asks urgently, following him.
He pours her a drink and hands it to her. ‘They were searching the boat all day– I saw them. Special Agent Ramirez and someone else from the Coast Guard. I watched them from themarina. They spent hours on it.’ He tosses back his drink; it mixes uncomfortably with the acid in his stomach. ‘But as I was leaving, I went down to say hello, and Ramirez told me there were no cameras on the boat.’
‘And you’re sure he was telling the truth?’ she asks, her voice tense.
‘Yes.’ He doesn’t tell her that Ramirez had seemed… disappointed. Doesn’t tell her what else he said.
‘Thank God,’ Jill breathes, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, they’re shining.
‘We’re in the clear,’ he says. Jill looks like she might faint from the relief.