He’s a relic of the days when men took casual attire seriously; when appearance mattered more than anything. When transgressions were hidden from view, and family secrets were swept under the rug or shoved into the closet or ignored.
I am not of those days.
My family, the Winstons, were town founders as well, but we didn’t fight for prestige. My father was obsessed with Wall Street, and when I was young, he moved to an apartment on the Upper East Side of New York City where he still lives almost year-round.
My mother was a “Hamil-townie.” She raised my two younger siblings and me here in this “wholesome” village, in a nice house I now own, and until the day she died, she taught us to value hard work and honesty.
We have as much money and “culture” as the van Hamiltons, but I was never part of the spoiled, silver-spoon crowd. The one time I visited my father in the big city, I wasn’t impressed—not with his flirty female assistant nor with the kids my age and younger. They struck me as desperately bored, filling the void with meaningless sex and mindless parties, or pulling the wings off butterflies.
They were either entirely corrupt or thoughtlessly cruel.
I disliked them intensely, except for her. She was different. Still, I can’t imagine Blake wanting to be here.
“Sorry for the heat.” Hugh tugs the crocheted shawl tighter around his arms, on top of his tailored three-piece suit. “Ever since my last round of chemo, I’ve had a hard time maintaining any body heat.”
He’s practically a skeleton, and it hurts me to see him this way. This man has become like a surrogate father to me through the years. He’s not perfect, but who is these days? I help him as much as I can, and he’s given me advice the two times I asked for it.
So, I try to lighten the mood. “Next time I’ll wear shorts and carry a Yeti full of hard seltzer.”
“Heavens.” He chuckles, shaking his head, and affection warms my heart. “Don’t insult me.”
“Judging from this favor, I’m trying to figure out what kind of pied piper you think I am.”
“Blake will come home because I asked her to.” He shakes his head and adds quietly, “Hana will do whatever her sister tells her to do.”
The last time I saw Blake, she was a striking sixteen-year-old with long, dark hair and fierce, silvery blue eyes. She didn’t starve herself to fit some WASPy stereotype, unlike her pale, younger sister Hana. Blake was independent, beautiful, tough, and when I saw the way her mother’s accountant looked at her, a man twenty years her senior, my vision went red.
I went to her mother, who immediately shipped her off to a Catholic boarding school I recommended. It was the best move to keep her safe, but I know she hated me for it. I saw her eyes right before her mother ended the call. She would’ve killed me if she’d been in the room.
“She won’t be happy to see me.” My tone is somber.
Hugh arches an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t think you cared if people were happy to see you.”
“I don’t, but I also don’t go looking for trouble.”
“Sometimes you have to manage a little trouble to get what you need.”
“She’s the type of trouble I don’t need. If you don’t give me a reason, she’ll slam the door in my face.”
“It’s better if I don’t tell you my reasons, but trust me. They need to leave the city, at least for a little while. Ignorance is protection.”
His words make the skin on my neck tighten. Hugh has known me since I was a teenager, since before I retired from the Marines and became a private investigator, and the last time he wouldn’t give me a reason, I was staring at a dead body in the trunk of his chauffeur’s car.
As a PI, I’m not required to report my clients to law enforcement, but I do my best not to take on more than I can handle. “That’s not how the law sees it.”
“It’s how the people who matter see it.” He walks over to a mahogany bar trolley waiting at the glass wall. “Can I offer you a drink? I can’t have alcohol anymore, but I can watch you enjoy it.”
“I’m not much of a day drinker, thanks.”
“By the book. Good man.” He nods, turning from the trolly. “I have to say, I wasn’t sure about the beard, but it suits you. It adds to your persona.”
I automatically scratch the scruff on my cheek, unsure if he’s giving me a compliment or a dig. I’m not sloppy. I’m not a suit guy, but my black jeans and boots, navy Henley and Carhart jacket are appropriate for my work.
“Blake and I haven’t spoken in seven years. Does she even consider this place her home? She’s never lived here.”
“I sent her a letter. It’s possible you might not need to do anything at all, but if a week goes by… Don’t give it a week. If she doesn’t come here in a few days, I need you to follow up. My grandniece is a smart girl, but she thinks she can control her world, and she can’t.”
I know the truth of that statement.
Stepping over to a potted tree, I lift an enormous, dark-green leaf. It looks fake, it’s so shiny, and as I lean closer to get a better look, a bead of sweat tickles along my hairline. I take a handkerchief from my back pocket and wipe it away as I return to where Hugh stands beside a table.
He’s using tiny scissors to trim what looks like a miniature oak tree, and he glances up to see me sweating through my shirt. “Norris will bring you ice water if you prefer.”
“What I’d prefer is a straight answer. The last time you withheld information, I overlooked a dead body in your trunk. You still haven’t explained that one.”
“I told you it was self-defense. My security guard handled it.”
“Yeah, that’s what you told me.”
Only problem was the dead man appeared to be eastern European, and he had no identification. When I ran his prints, nothing came back, which as a former Marine, leads me to believe he was a spook, or a foreign spy. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since.
Hugh places the small pruning shears on the table. “I trust you, Hutch. You’re a straight shooter, and you know when to sit on things.” His bushy gray brows furrow so the two become one. “I need you to protect my nieces. You’re the law. You can do that.”
“I’m not the law.” I exhale a chuckle. “I’m only a detective, and your nieces are grown women. This isn’t a police state.”
He dismisses my argument. “People listen to you, Hutch. You’re a natural leader, and they trust your judgment.”
All traces of laughter leave my tone. “I’m not so sure I deserve that.”
“Which makes me trust you even more.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, and we start walking towards the door. “Everyone makes mistakes, but I know you’ve lived a decent life. I’ve witnessed it firsthand. If you have to go to them, tell Blake I asked you to do this. Tell her it’s my final wish. Hana will follow.”
My brow furrows. “Your final wish?”
His tone immediately lightens. “As in the last thing I’ll ask of them. Don’t be morbid, my friend.”
“I’d say the same to you, but I’ll tell you. I can’t commit to this. I’ve got Pepper now, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing there. I don’t have time for more females to worry about.