The House on Mermaid Point

Chapter Eight

They stood wedged into the main cabin of the houseboat surrounded by closed doors and built-in cushion-covered ledges that were supposed to pass for furniture. Moving would have required orchestration or at least a game plan, neither of which any of them seemed able to muster.

Troy and Anthony were pressed against the bulkhead recording their first sight of their floating barracks. To say that it was a tight fit was like saying that the Atlantic Ocean, on which they bobbed, was just a little bit damp.

“Well, it’s compact. And kind of ingenious, really,” Maddie said, running a hand over the galley’s ancient Formica countertop.

“I feel like a sardine,” Nicole said. “And it smells kind of fishy here, too. Does your glass really always have to be so . . . half-full?”

“I can’t believe they think they’re going to get away with this.” Deirdre was pressed against a door that Nicole hoped led to a heretofore-unnoticed second bathroom. A cosmetics case was locked in Deirdre’s arms. The rest of her luggage was piled up on the deck.

“They already have. And last time I checked there was no ‘no houseboat or island makeover’ clauses in any of our contracts,” Avery said. She gave Deirdre a look. “Unless your agent managed to slip one into yours?”

Deirdre remained silent.

“Didn’t think so,” Avery said.

“Well, the kitchen is small but it seems to have pretty much everything,” Maddie said.

“Yeah,” Kyra said. “It kind of reminds me of that Barbie Dream Kitchen I had. Or wait, maybe that was the Easy-Bake Oven I’m thinking of.” She’d sat Dustin on the dining room table, a Formica rectangle surrounded on three sides by a vinyl-covered banquette. The space was so small that hiding him from the camera was pretty much out of the question.

“Well, at least there’s a blender.” Nicole eyed the small, if ancient, appliance on the counter. “And I have a bottle of rum in my bag. Did anybody bring anything to blend with it? Not that I wouldn’t consider drinking it straight from the bottle right now.”

“No, but I’ve got Diet Cokes in the cooler and some snacks,” Maddie said. “Let’s see what we’ve got and figure out the sleeping arrangements. Then we’ll take some food and drink upstairs and watch our first Keys sunset.”

In addition to the built-in dinette, a compact kitchen ran along the hull, forming an L in the corner. Shallow cabinets were arranged around a narrow rectangular window and beneath the counter. There was a built-in microwave, a cooktop, and a compact refrigerator. A very small, very ancient television sat in a cubicle.

“I’m pretty sure that the dinette and the couch convert into beds,” Maddie said as if this were a good thing.

“I’m going to hold out for something that resembles an actual bedroom,” Nicole said. She’d slept on the floor when they renovated Bella Flora and in far worse circumstances as a child; a bed and a door meant something to her.

“Okay,” Avery said. “Let’s see what lies behind door number one. Can you all move so I can get that door open?”

They inched to their left so that she could reach the door closest to the kitchen counter. Avery pulled it open as far as she could, given the wall of bodies in its way. “It’s a shower room.”

“By itself?” Deirdre asked. “Is that all that’s in there?”

“Well, there are two hooks on the wall.”

“Great.” Nicole groaned.

“And door number two?” Maddie asked.

“Sink, vanity with mirror, toilet.”

Maddie managed to peek over Avery’s shoulder. “Gosh, that’s small. I mean, compact. Or is that ‘efficient’?”

“Well, at least the shower and the toilet/vanity area are separate. That means more than one person at a time can be doing something,” Avery said.

“But there are five of us,” Kyra said. “I never thought I’d say this, but thank God Dustin is still in diapers and won’t need to get potty trained in here.”

“If there’s not another bathroom tucked away somewhere I may have to start wearing diapers myself,” Nicole said. “I will not be using that port-o-let.”

“It’s not like we’ve never shared a bathroom before,” Maddie said.

“Yeah,” Avery conceded. “I never thought I’d be nostalgic for the bathrooms at Bella Flora or the Millicent. They were a wreck, but they were real bathrooms.”

“And they were on land,” Nicole added. “A distinction I never fully appreciated before.”

They thought about this while Avery pulled open the remaining doors.

“That’s it for bathrooms,” Avery said. “But it looks like there are three sleeping spaces—I’m not sure they deserve to be called bedrooms.

“The first one has a set of bunk beds. And . . .” She peered in the opposite doorway. “This one has what looks like a full-sized platform bed. And a couple of built-in cubbies on the wall.”

The room that adjoined it had no door, just an angled opening. “This one has a double bed, too. But there’s pretty much no storage.”

“This place gives the term ‘bare bones’ a whole new meaning,” Deirdre muttered.

They shifted again so that Avery could climb up the small ladder that ran up the wall. She remained on the steps as she looked around. “Two platform beds divided by a low partition. Two small windows—one of them has an AC unit in it and there’s a door onto the upper deck.” She disappeared into the space. When she backed down the ladder she turned to face them. “It’s tight and the ceiling’s low. I can just stand upright.”

“Dibs on the ‘penthouse,’” Deirdre said, sounding pleased. “We’re compact. It’ll be perfect for us.”

“You might as well enjoy calling it that while you can,” Avery said, “because once you see it you’ll have to stop.”

“Shall I pass up my luggage?” Deirdre asked.

“No. It’s probably better to carry it up the outer stair, but you’re on your own with that,” Avery said to Deirdre. “There’s a couple of hooks and a built-in set of drawers. Other than that there’s no storage in the ‘penthouse.’ Every inch is pretty much spoken for.”

“But where am I supposed to put my things?” Deirdre asked.

Avery shrugged. “You can sleep with them, as far as I’m concerned. Anything that ends up on my bed or in my way will be sleeping with the fishes.”

Deirdre harrumphed.

“Why don’t I take the bunk room?” Kyra suggested. “I can put Dustin on the bottom bunk and put cushions on the floor. That way Mom and Nicole can have their own rooms.”

“That sounds good,” Maddie said. “And I don’t mind having the room without the door. That way I can keep a better ear out for Dustin.”

“Thanks,” Nicole said, relieved that no matter how cramped her space, it would belong only to her.

“Well, at least no one has to sleep on the dinette or couch,” Maddie pointed out.

This was true, Nicole thought as she stepped into the tiny fiberglass-walled space that would be hers for the foreseeable future. There was no privacy here and even less storage, but at least this time out everyone would have a bed of her own.

By the time they carried drinks and snacks and the deli sandwiches Maddie had found in the refrigerator to the upper deck, sunset was in full flame. They sat on the built-in bench seats that ran down both sides of the deck, resting the food and drinks beside them. “Dinner” had been laid out on two of Deirdre’s hard-sided suitcases. The drink of the night was rum and Diet Coke.

“I can’t believe you remembered to bring Cheez Doodles!” Avery said to Maddie as she took a handful from the industrial-sized bag.

“We wouldn’t want to see you in Doodle withdrawal,” Deirdre said drily. “I understand getting those artificial cheese cravings out of your system can be almost as difficult as getting the orange dye off of your skin.”

“All we need is a couple of tables and maybe a few folding chairs and we’re in business,” Maddie said.

“Yes. It’s a little disconcerting how ‘attached’ everything is,” Nicole said. She’d been on yachts that felt more like moving five-star hotels, back when Heart Inc. was thriving, and on Joe’s speedboat in Miami all fall and winter. This houseboat was a whole other animal.

They faced westward as they nibbled on their sandwiches, gazing across the Overseas Highway to the Florida Bay, where the sun was in the process of turning a deep bloodred. Stray bits of music floated on the breeze. The houseboat rocked gently beneath them.

“Just look at that sky,” Maddie said.

“It makes me wish I could paint.” Kyra’s video camera was aimed at the display.

They sat in silence, breathing in the salt-tinged air. Nearby a small fish jumped. Insects hummed quietly.

“It’s so peaceful here,” Avery said.

“It is beautiful,” Nicole agreed. “I’d think it was even more beautiful if we were staying in the main house. With actual bathrooms and solid ground under our feet.”

“Solid ground would be good,” Kyra agreed, offering Dustin a small piece of meat wrapped in cheese. He clutched a sippy cup of milk in his hands. “Bathrooms and closets would be even better.”

“I don’t really see why we can’t stay in the house. It’s certainly large enough that we wouldn’t be on top of him,” Deirdre said.

“Not that being on top of William Hightower would be such a horrible thing.” Nicole laughed. “The man looks good for his age. And he’s still got massive name recognition. I could fix him up with someone equally high profile and put Heart Inc. right back at the top of the matchmaking heap.”

“She’d have to be wealthy in her own right,” Deirdre said. “Given his reaction to our presence it’s pretty clear we wouldn’t be here if his bank account was as large as his name. And I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that he just came out of rehab for the fourth or fifth time.”

Maddie nodded her head. “His brother OD’d really young. And you don’t get a nickname like William the Wild for no reason.”

“Maybe we’re really here to get him back in the headlines so that he can stage a comeback,” Kyra said.

“I don’t think a padlocked studio is a sign of someone planning a comeback,” Maddie said. “And he doesn’t seem any more interested in attracting the press than we are.”

Nicole poured another round of drinks. The snap of the can and the hiss that followed sounded downright explosive against the surrounding quiet. She raised her glass. “To Mermaid Point. And camera-free sunsets.”

They clinked plastic cups and drank.

“Well, I vote that we defer our nightly ‘one good thing’ until we have a chance to get . . . acclimated,” Avery said. “I’m kind of afraid to commit until we see the inside of that house.”

“Good thinking,” Nicole said. “We don’t want to waste a good thing. I have a feeling they might be really hard to come by.”

They looked at Maddie, who claimed she wasn’t the “good enough” police but who absolutely was.

“I’m fine with that,” Maddie said with a yawn. “But I’m sure there’ll be plenty of good things to toast once we get situated.”

Dustin lay back in Kyra’s lap. One thumb went into his mouth. The sippy cup dangled from his other hand.

“I don’t see any sign of Troy and Anthony on the other houseboat and they don’t seem to be skulking in the bushes,” Kyra said.

“I bet they’re over on Islamorada,” Avery said.

“At a restaurant,” Deirdre added.

“Eating something that didn’t come wrapped in plastic,” Nicole said.

“It wouldn’t surprise me one bit,” Kyra said. “They’re not the ones who are supposed to look like shit on camera. That’s why I’m shooting everything, too—in case we ever need to show things the way they really are.”

“I almost feel sorry for Will . . .” Maddie said in a musing tone. “I mean . . . William. They’re going to use him the same way they use us.”

Kyra looked at her mother in surprise. Nicole wondered if she’d missed Maddie’s reaction to William Hightower. “He’s a grown man,” Kyra said. “I’d rather they focus on him than on Dustin, but I’m sure they have instructions from Lisa Hogan to shoot the hell out of both of them.” She looked down at the child in her lap. Dustin was asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“I think it’s time to put Dustin to bed.” Maddie yawned. “It’s been a long and surprising day.” She began to gather up the cups and trash. The rest of them followed suit.

“And it’s going to take a while for all of us to wash up and get ready for bed seeing as how we’ll be doing it one at a time,” Avery pointed out.

They glanced at each other then made a beeline for the steps that led down to the main cabin.

By the time Nicole had a turn in the too-small bathroom, made up her bed, and fell into it, she was far too tired to respond to Giraldi’s good-night text other than to feel relief that there appeared to be cell service on their tea-table-shaped island.

The foam mattress wasn’t particularly comfortable and the “walls” were definitely too thin, but the subtle rocking motion and the sound of water lapping against the hull weren’t bad. Her last thought as she finally drifted off to sleep was that it would take a nuclear blast to get her up in the morning.