Page 94 of Until We Break

Dean greeted me on the steps of the cottage. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Were you fishing?” he asked. He looked perplexed.

I laughed. “I was trying to. I didn’t catch anything.”

“I think that’s what fishing is. A lot of trying with little results.”

“Maybe.” I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my shorts. “Did you come to bring me another tax bill?”

“No. No bills this time. Let’s go in.” He was wearing a charcoal suit. I was certain he was sweating beneath the pressed white shirt.

I led him in through the screen porch and into the air conditioning. I poured a glass of water. He sat at the kitchen table, withdrawing an envelope from his briefcase. It wasn’t the usual legal envelope or one of the blue folders filled with threatening letters. He slid the envelope toward me.

“This is for you.”

“What’s this?” I ripped open the top and retrieved a check from inside. The check was made out to me and signed by Island Stewards, LLC. I stared at the amount typed into the payment box. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Dean shook his head. “It came to my office yesterday. I put a call in to the bank. It’s legit. The funds are there, and it will clear.”

“But twenty thousand dollars?” I took a seat at the table. “I’ve never heard of Island Stewards, LLC. What’s this company?”

Dean took out his notebook. “I’ve tried to look into that too. All I know is it’s an LLC for another LLC. Basically, that’s a shell company, hiding the identity of the members. There was a letter that came with it.” He unfolded a printed page. “It clearly states these funds are supposed to go to you and are for the preservation of Marshoak Island’s Blue Heron Marina.”

“But who? Why?” I was stunned. Then my eyes turned to Dean. “You did this, didn’t you? I told you I’m not taking your money, Dean. I’ll figure out how to save the marina without a loan from you.”

He lifted his hands in the air. “Hey, it’s not from me. I can show you everything it came in. Here’s the letter.” He handed it to me. “My offer is still good, but I swear to you this was sent by the LLC with strict instructions for you to have the funds.”

It was hard to believe him. He’d tried on many different occasions to give me money. The legal complexities of this check seemed like something an attorney would know how to do.

“If it’s not you, then who is it?”

“I wish I knew. But it does solve your problems. You can pay the back taxes, Margot. Get the IRS off your back and there’s enough to do some of the upgrades you want.”

“But who would do something so generous and not want to be recognized?”

“Maybe you have a fairy godmother.” He smiled. “It happens.”

“Not to me. I end up with rundown marinas.” I grimaced, holding the check in my hands. If I read it enough times maybe I could garner a clue. Interpret one of the details Dean had missed.

“There’s no way we can figure out where the money came from?” I wasn’t going to let it go.

“I didn’t say that. I’m still working on it. Just because the benefactor doesn’t want to be found doesn’t mean I can’t find them. They used a bank at Pointe Harbor. My guess is there are in the area and local.”

“That narrows it down?” I slumped over the table.

“I thought you’d be happy about the money.”

I raised my head. “I am happy. I think I’m suspicious. An anonymous donor?”

“I can deposit it for you in the trust and pay the taxes if you want?”

I took a deep breath. The taxes kept me up at night. I worried nightly the IRS would show up on my doorstep one day and throw me in a van, ready to haul me off to prison. I didn’t think that’s how it actually worked, but it was a nightmare I couldn’t shake.

“Okay. Yes, pay the taxes.”

“Good. I’ll take care of it for you.”

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