David lowered his head in acquiescence, but his right hand was clenched in a fist. “You wanted to stay close to Castlemara while it’s under construction. This was the most convenient.”
Regina continued, “Daddy left me the old decrepit thing…” She looked around the sitting room, then continued. “As soon as they tear the damn thing down, I’ve been promised a five-month completion on my new pied-à-terre.”
Castlemara was a gorgeous, oceanfront Spanish Colonial mansion built in the early twentieth century, around the same time as the Indialantic, and was situated east of A1A, ten miles south of the hotel. Liz glanced at the bamboo dining table. On top were unrolled architect’s plans, showing a three-story box of metal and glass. Liz admired modern architecture, but the renderings for Castlemara’s replacement were more akin to a suburban office building than a beach house and it looked like the perimeter of the proposed structure would gobble up most of the property’s natural terrain. Once, when Liz was on a book signing tour in California for Let the Wind Roar, she’d stayed at a friend’s Malibu beach house. When Liz opened the blinds in her guest room for a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean, she was stunned to see the couple in the glass box next door, sharing a shower. Talk about awkward.
Liz couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You’re not thinking of razing that beautiful mansion, are you? Didn’t Ponce de León land on the beach near Castlemara? I thought it was about to get historical status?”
Regina said, “Not anymore, thanks to a fabulous stable of New York City lawyers. Now, get on your way. I am having a private conversation with my husband.” Regina looked at Aunt Amelia. “If we must stay here, I will make up a list of things I need. Also, do you have a girl you could loan me for our stay?” She glanced around the room, then stopped on Liz’s face. “And I don’t want her.”
Liz turned and walked through the open door and into the hallway before saying, “Good. Because you couldn’t afford me!”
Chapter 4
Liz waited for Aunt Amelia near the staircase going down to the lobby. When her great-aunt finally appeared, her cheeks were the same shade as her hair. “That woman! I’m so sorry I got you involved, my pet. Iris should have been there instead.”
“Auntie, why are you letting them stay? Since you’ve been collecting rent on the emporium shops, I thought you were okay for the time being. It’s too much work for you now that you’re…”
“Now that I’m what?” Aunt Amelia put her hands on her wide hips, made famous by a Hula-Hoop commercial she’d starred in that had all the women in the sixties Hula-Hooping to create trim waistlines above their wide, baby-boomer-bearing hips. “Don’t even go there. I feel as good as I did forty years ago. As Wayne Dyer once said, ‘If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.’”
“How does that apply to your age?”
“I don’t look at things as an eighty-year-old. I look at them as a forty-something.”
“Well, you’ll always be eternally young in my book. Can I make you a sandwich from the leftover prime rib?”
“No, no, dear. Think I’ll turn in. I wish I knew what happened to Iris. Maybe you can ask your father if he’s seen her before you head home?”
“Will do. Sweet dreams, Auntie.” Liz kissed her soft, powdery cheek.
Aunt Amelia put a hand on either side of Liz’s face. “Listen to me, young lady. Don’t you ever let anyone make you feel less than the wonderful, giving, precious child I see by pointing out superficial flaws. When you are ready to talk, you know I’m here.”
“Of course, I know that. We’ll talk soon. I promise. Now, give me the list Regina gave you and I’ll take care of things until we find Iris.”
Aunt Amelia handed her the list. “It’s a doozy. Maybe they’ll find a place tomorrow. I thought having a Harrington stay here might bolster our popularity rating a bit. Regina’s father, Percival, was the nicest man. He did so many wonderful things for our little barrier island. Also, I feel sorry for the poor wee thing.”
Liz said, “I know Regina’s father died recently. He died of natural causes. Right?”
“Elizabeth Holt, what are you implying?”
“Oh, nothing. But I wouldn’t feel sorry for her. Regina’s not ‘wee.’ She could trample us both in her six-inch heels and keep on walking.”
“I was talking about Venus.”
“What is Venus, anyway? Cat? Dog?”
“Not sure yet. But why should it suffer? Every creature needs shelter.”
“Okay, what television character were you thinking for David Worth?”
Aunt Amelia fingered one of her curls and looked up at the ceiling, “That’s a hard one. There’s something familiar about him. I feel like I’ve met him before, just can’t remember where. Maybe the actor Jack Webb, who played Sergeant Joe Friday on Dragnet? I’ll have to sleep on it. You?”
“I’m not sure about him, but her, it’s as clear as day—Joan Collins with long hair.”
“Hmm...maybe. I was thinking Regina looks like Morticia from The Addams Family.”
“She does resemble Carolyn Jones.”
“Did I ever tell you about The Addams Family…?”
“Yes, you did. It was the episode called, ‘Cupid Aims for Fester,’ and you played Miss Carson, the Avon lady whom Uncle Fester mistook for his dating penpal. Now, get to bed, Auntie. It’s getting late.”
Aunt Amelia shuffled down the hallway toward her four-room suite in kitten heels affixed with lilac feathered pom-poms. Liz wouldn’t have been surprised to hear a scream when her great-aunt looked in the mirror and realized she was wearing only half of her eye makeup.
As Liz walked down the curving, wrought-iron staircase, she worried about her great-aunt. No matter what “psychological age” she was, Liz couldn’t help but think of her advancing chronological age and all the financial worries that seemed constant when running—yes—a run-down hotel. On top of that, Liz knew her aunt worried about her
