Page 45 of What Happens in Paradise
“What does it mean?” Rooney asks in a way that makes it clear he isn’t sure what it means. He’s sitting in the velvet-upholstered bergère chair, holding court now. “It means they conduct business without obeying the tax code. We’re talking money-laundering, numbered accounts at banks in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands, shell companies, dark money, terrorists, drug dealers, human traffickers…”
Irene shoots a look at Ed Sorley. The Cayman Islands?
Jayne emits a nervous laugh. “Rooney, stop,” she says. “You knew Russ. He was…well, he was the nicest man in the world is what he was.”
“I second that,” Dot says.
“Sometimes it’s the nice guys who are the worst criminals,” Rooney says. “Because they’re the ones you’d least suspect of anything.”
Irene stands up. “I’m feeling a little worn out,” she says, and everyone takes the hint.
Monday afternoon, Irene’s ferry pulls in among the powerboats and catamarans moored in Cruz Bay, and Irene scans the crescent of white sand that’s home to a string of open-air restaurants backed by palm trees. She feels like she can breathe again. It’s bizarre that the place her husband conducted his wild and massive deception has become her refuge. Irene doesn’t want to overthink this and she doesn’t want to fight it. She’s now experiencing the emotions one should feel upon arriving on St. John: anticipation and joy.
Both of her boys are here, and her grandson. It feels like an embarrassment of riches, all of them choosing to be together this time, choosing to be in the paradise Russ unwittingly brought them to.
Cash had texted Irene the night before to let her know that today was his first day as a crew member aboard Treasure Island. He thought he’d be back in time to pick Irene up, but if not, he’d send Baker. However, when Irene steps off the ferry and grabs her luggage—two rolling suitcases that contain sundresses, sandals, plenty of bathing suits, and some old fishing shirts that she used to wear out on Clark Lake—she doesn’t see either Cash or Baker, and she’s annoyed. Have they forgotten her?
“Irene!”
Irene looks around. Huck is in the parking lot, standing in front of his truck. Irene can’t believe the feeling that overcomes her. She ducks her head so he can’t see her smiling.
Get a grip! she thinks. It’s just Huck. “Oh, hi,” she says. She grabs her luggage and starts rolling it over to his truck. “Are you here for me?”
“Baker took Floyd to the Gifft Hill School and Maia wanted to show them around,” Huck says. “So that left me free to pick you up.”
Things are really happening, then—Cash started a job, Floyd will go to school. Irene opens the passenger door to Huck’s truck.
“Wait a minute,” Huck says. He strides over and puts his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye. “It’s good to see you, Angler Cupcake. I’m glad you’re back.”
Irene feels herself reddening. “Stop it,” she says. “You’re embarrassing me.”
On the way to Russ’s villa, Irene thinks it best to fill Huck in on what’s been happening.
She says, “I’ve had a visit from the FBI.”
Huck says, “I’m afraid that might have been my fault. I had a call from an agent down here right after you left to let me know that they’d opened an investigation into the crash—”
“Yes,” Irene says. “The boys and I received calls as well—”
“And then I contacted Agent Vasco myself last week to let her know that…well, we found money in Rosie’s room.”
Irene gazes out the window, trying to focus on the views. The vista of the neighboring islands across the turquoise water is nothing short of spectacular. Less than a month ago, Irene made the same drive but she saw nothing, noticed nothing.
Money. “How much?”
“A lot.”
“How much, Huck?”
“A hundred and twenty-five grand.”
A hundred and twenty-five grand. A hot, nauseating panic rises in Irene’s chest. “In cash, you mean?”
“Yes, in cash. Bricks of it.”
“And they took it?”
“They took it,” Huck says. He lights a cigarette and blows the smoke out his window. “And I heard they paid a visit to Welcome to Paradise Real Estate.”
