Page 44 of Death at the Deep Dive

“I don’t think so. I don’t know. But the thing is, I don’t want to go back into acting. I love my life. I’ve never been happier than I am now.” He wiped his nose. “Well, maybe not at this minute, but the last few months. I do want the money, though. And it would be kind of fun to make a movie that actually has a budget and top players. The role probably won’t be very demanding. It could be a couple of days, maybe one day, and I’d be out of there.”

“Or not.”

Ellery sighed. “Or not.”

Jack nodded, but that seemed to be more at his own thoughts. He said wryly, “I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

“Me neither.”

“But whatever you decide, I support your decision.”

“Thanks.”

“And…if you do decide to make another movie, or three, it won’t change anything between us.”

Ellery nodded. When Jack pulled him in again, he wrapped his arms around Jack’s shoulders and kissed him long and hard, kissed him with all his heart.

He knew Jack sincerely meant every word. He just wished Jack sounded more convinced of what he was saying.

And he wishedhefelt more convinced of what Jack was saying.

Chapter Thirteen

Barring the rare police emergency, Ellery and Jack spent most Sundays together.

Before the professional renovations at Captain’s Seat had started, they either went diving or worked on the house, but it was starting to get chilly for water sports, so that Sunday afternoon they hiked out to the site where the original Deep Dive once stood overlooking the white-capped waters of Old Harbor.

“I didn’t realize there would be so little of the building left.” Ellery gazed down at the surprisingly small foundation of the pub. Grass and wildflowers grew through the broken stone and cement footprint. A few charred timbers lay scattered over the hillside.

“Were you hoping for a skeleton beneath the floorboards?”

“At the least. Or maybe hidden behind the bricks of a crumbling wall.”

“Life is full of disappointments.” Jack was kidding. But maybe not entirely?

Though maybe Jack thought that was a little heavy too, because he said, “The fire started at two thirty a.m. It was summer, a hot and dry June in 1965. The flames ripped through these old buildings like tinder.”

“Where did the fire start?”

“The Hotel Royale.” Jack’s mouth curved in a humorless smile. “There were rumors of arson. Rumors the hotel was torched for the insurance.”

“Was it?”

Jack shrugged. “It’s possible. But the hotel was built in 1915. It was in seriously bad shape by then, so it’s also possible that it really was just a grease fire.”

“A grease fire at two thirty in the morning?”

“By that time, rooms at the Royale were being rented out as cheap housing, so yeah. You had all kinds of safety-code violations going on.”

“Ah.” Normally, Ellery would have teased Jack about his preoccupation with health and safety protocols, but not today. Jack had been a little… Not distant, but just a bit reserved that morning. It was nothing Ellery could put his finger on. Jack had been funny and affectionate—his normal Sunday morning self—yet there was something.

“Was anyone killed?”

“No,” Jack said. “Miraculously, nobody died in that fire. That was the good news. The bad news was everyone on this side of the harbor lost their homes and businesses. Even the businesses that weren’t burned, they couldn’t survive as isolated shops. The old pier burned down too.”

“Where the heck was the fire department?”

Jack gave him a cynical smile. “That was the question of the hour, and one reason the rumors started. Coincidentally, another mysterious fire had been set on the other end of the village. Pirate’s Cove’s fire department was already busy when this fire broke out. A lot of valuable time was lost in getting over here.”

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