Beach Thriller(54)

“Huh? Whatta you talkin’ about? Jade’s with you?” This woman was also blotto. All her words ran together.

In the background, Holly heard a gruff man yell: “Hey—who is it? Is that a telemarketer? Tell ’em to fuck off.”

Jade stood to the side. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but her expression implied she knew how it was going. Holly heard loud footsteps in the background. Suddenly the man’s voice was blaring in her ear.

“Hey, fuck off, all right,” he spat. “We don’t need whatever shit you’re selling.”

Holly grimaced. “No, I’m with your daughter, Jade. She’s okay. I simply wanted you both to know that, and—”

“Put her on. Put that bitch on.”

Holly blinked hard. His harsh words stole her breath. She wanted to reach through the phone, grab this jackass by the neck and wring it until he cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry—what did you just say?” Holly practically spit out the words.

“You heard me. Put that bitch on.”

Holly handed Jade the phone, though she second-guessed whether she should.

Jade, bless her heart, put the call on speaker.

“You took two hundred dollars from the dresser. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Good lord. Those are the first words out of this horrid man’s mouth? How dare he!

“So what if I did?” Jade clapped back.

The man grunted like cattle. “So it’s not your fucking money to take, Jade.”

“Then I didn’t take it.”

“You’re such a liar.”

Holly thought of calling the police to report this abuse, but what would they do? Naturally they’d try to find a safe place for Jade to stay—but she had one already.

Holly had heard enough. She took the phone back. Jade might well have stolen the money, but if she had, whatever she took wasn’t nearly enough to cover the damage this monster had inflicted. Holly’s tone was fierce when she spoke, her words clipped like shears. “Mr. Jensen, sir,” she barked, the term of respect delivered mockingly. “Jade will be staying with me for the foreseeable future. I’ll leave it up to her to decide when, and if, she’ll contact you again. I thought I should inform you that she’s safe and cared for. That’s all I have to say. I’ll get your address from Jade and send you the two hundred dollars so you have no reason to get in touch. Goodbye.”

She ended the call with a tap of her finger, half expecting Buck to call back, but he didn’t. Thank goodness for small miracles. Maybe he’d use her number to track her down, but Holly doubted he cared enough to bother.

“What a horrible human being,” Holly said.

“He’s that and more,” said Jade, exhaling with relief. “Thanks for sticking up for me, but you don’t have to pay him back. I mean, yeah, I took the money—I couldn’t have left town without it. That’s actually when I found my necklace, going through their stuff looking for cash. But Buck’s a total piece of shit who deserves a lot worse than losing a couple hundred dollars.”

Holly couldn’t agree more. “True, but it’s better if we settle the books with him,” she said. “And you can stay here as long as you’d like. You might need to chip in a little for food, but not until you start getting paid. Sorry, money is tight here, too. And we do need to get you a new phone. I don’t want you at the Carmichaels’ with no way to call me if there’s an emergency.”

Jade beamed with relief. Her joy was so palpable it could have hugged Holly on its own.

“Thank you, thank you—and I’m happy to contribute whatever I can,” she said. “But I have one request. Since I came clean, I think you should, too.” With a glint in her eye, she produced an old photograph from her pocket and handed it to Holly.

“This was taken at Maeve’s last Barefoot Beach Ball, celebrating Conrad’s engagement to a woman I didn’t even know existed until today. You told me you hadn’t worked there, and that Beach Thriller was pure fiction. Want to explain?”

Jade pointed to a figure in the background of the photograph, a young woman in a caterer’s uniform holding a silver serving tray. “Does she look familiar?”

Holly didn’t answer, but the truth was written all over her face.

“That’s you,” Jade said. “I’m sure of it. And did you know there was also a guesthouse on the property? What a coincidence. Now it’s nothing but ruins. It looks like it burned down.”

Holly finally found her voice. “Where are you going with all this?”

“You found it strange how my story mirrored that GoFundMe page. Well, I find it odd that you’re a caterer in this photo at Conrad’s bougie engagement party, just like you wrote in Beach Thriller. I suspect there’s more truth to your fictional tale than you’re letting on.”

Holly swallowed hard. She couldn’t meet Jade’s eyes.

“Okay, you got me. The book is based on some real-life events,” she admitted.

Jade flashed a victory smile. “I knew it—and to me that makes the story even better.”

Holly shrugged off the encouragement. “Doesn’t matter, I can’t finish it.”

“Writer’s block?” Jade tossed out the term like she’d experienced it herself.