Stranger on the Shore Read online

  He got his phone out, rang information and got the number for Charles and May Chung in Syosset. He called the number, an answering machine came on, and after a moment’s consideration, he hung up. Considering how cagey all the Arlington staff members were, maybe it would be better not to give Mr. Tuppalo’s daughter advance warning that he wanted to interview her.

  He drank his beer and looked out the side window at the crowded parking lot. He thought he could pick Pierce’s voice out from the rest of the noisy crowd in the bar section.

  What was this sudden fascination with Pierce?

  Maybe it had to do with Gemma’s journal. She had mentioned Pierce several times in connection with Brian, and her descriptions of the serious, slightly awkward boy’s patience with the pest Brian had been, had amused Griff. Softened him toward Pierce.

  Or maybe it had to do with not being with anyone since Levi. Pierce was incredibly good-looking. Too good-looking, really, which didn’t change the fact that Griff found him attractive.

  Another shout of laughter from the bar. Griff glanced over, and this time Pierce happened to look his way. Pierce did a double-take. It was noticeable enough that the girl he was with followed his gaze and spotted Griff. She said something to Pierce. Pierce nodded hello to Griff.

  Griff raised his glass in a return hello.

  The girl spoke again to Pierce, Pierce bent his head to hear her better and said something in reply. Her mouth formed the words Ask him over. Pierce shook his head.

  Griff’s face warmed and he stared out the window again. It wasn’t that he wanted to join Pierce and his friends, let alone meet Pierce’s girlfriend. But once again he felt a long way from home.

  About three seconds later the chair across from him was pulled out and Pierce sat down at the table. Griff’s heart jumped and he had to work to keep his expression from giving anything more away than polite surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” Pierce was frowning, but it seemed more puzzlement than disapproval.

  “I’m on my way back to the house. I thought I’d stop for dinner.”

  “I see.” Pierce seemed to weigh this. “The food is pretty good here.”

  Griff snorted. “So glad you approve.”

  Pierce tilted his head as though considering Griff’s tone. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a little on the prickly side?”

  Griff smiled reluctantly. “I didn’t use to be.”

  Pierce’s honey-brown eyes held his. He only said, “On your way back from where?”

  “Sing Sing.”

  Pierce’s gaze flickered. “How did it go?”

  “I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know,” Griff admitted.

  “Too bad.”

  “I think it is, yeah.”

  Pierce said, “I’m not being sarcastic. I do think it’s too bad Johnson doesn’t have the decency to give the family closure. Either way he’s never getting out of there.”

  “He still swears he didn’t take Brian.”

  “Of course he does.” Pierce’s smile was more of a grimace. “Did you believe him?”

  Did he? Griff had been asking himself the same question on the drive back from the prison. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell because if it is a lie, it’s a lie he’s been telling himself so long he actually believes it.”

  “That’s a point.”

  The waitress arrived with Griff’s meal. He ordered another beer and looked at Pierce in inquiry. Pierce shook his head. “I should let you get back to your dinner.”

  But he didn’t rise. Didn’t make a move to leave.

  Griff’s pleasure died as he glanced past Pierce and saw the dark-haired girl watching them. He said, “I don’t want to keep you from your friends.”

  Pierce’s mouth curved in self-mockery. “They’re here every night. We’ll all be here every night for the next twenty years.”

  “Really? It’s just...your girlfriend keeps looking over here like she’s wondering what’s going on.”

  “My—” Pierce turned, startled, and then laughed. He turned back to Griff. “That’s my sister. Diana.”

  “Oh.” Griff wished he didn’t feel quite so delighted at that news.

  “My girlfriend!” Pierce chuckled. He stopped laughing, watching Griff and smiling oddly. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh?” He couldn’t seem to think of anything else. Pierce was still smiling that smile that gave Griff a funny, hopeful feeling without fully understanding why. Pierce’s expression was equally hard to read. Wary and challenging all at the same time.

  “I’m surprised Muriel didn’t fill you in.” Pierce added lightly, “There’s nothing she likes better than a juicy bit of gossip. And it was quite the scandal at one time.”

  “No. Nobody said anything about you.”

  Shouts and laughter from the bar. Neither of them registered it. Pierce said with quiet intensity, “But you know.” His smile was very different now. Challenging but inviting too. “You’ve figured it out by now.”

  Griff stared. He felt his own mouth curving. “I think so, yeah.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hi!” A female voice broke the spell.

  Griff raised his eyes. A tall, dark-haired girl, Pierce’s sister Diana, stood over their table. “Hi,” he said.

  She was beautiful. As beautiful as Pierce was handsome. Willowy, sleek black hair, and those same striking amber eyes. A woman who had probably been told from the time she was a child that she should be a model. The Mathers must have taken some impressive family portraits.

  “Griff, this is my sister Diana. Di, this is Griff Hadley,” Pierce said briefly.

  Diana offered her hand and Griff shook with her. She had a firm grip and an open smile. Unlike Pierce, it probably wasn’t all due to Happy Hour. “It’s a pleasure,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”

  Griff opened his mouth.

  “Don’t ask her to sit down,” Pierce warned him.

  “Can I sit down?” Diana asked.

  “Sure,” Griff said, and Pierce sighed.

  Diana slipped into the remaining chair. “How is the book coming?”

  Griff threw a quick look at Pierce. Pierce’s mouth quirked.

  “It’s coming. I’m still mostly just doing research. I think I figured out my title though.”

  “What is it?”

  “‘Stranger on the Shore.’ It was Gemma Arlington’s favorite song, and it was supposedly playing the night of the party.”

  “I remember that song,” Diana said. She hummed a few bars and looked inquiringly at Griff.

  “That’s it. I looked it up. It was actually written in the sixties, so it was the wrong time period for the party, but I don’t think that’s relevant.”

  “Probably not.” Pierce gave his sister a pointed look. She—equally pointedly—ignored him. Griff didn’t mind. He liked Diana in that instant way you did with some people. Maybe because she sort of reminded him of the girls he worked with back home. There was something comfortable and familiar about her, even if she was wearing a cashmere dress that probably cost a couple grand.

  “I think it’s a great title,” she said. “So how is the research going? Do you think you’ve managed to uncover any clues the police missed?”

  “Diana,” Pierce said. He was no longer amused, no longer joking.

  The return look she delivered was straightforward and equally unsmiling. She turned to Griff. “I used to babysit Brian.”

  “You didn’t babysit him,” Pierce said. “You were a baby yourself.”

  “I was twelve.” She continued to gaze at Griff. “I did babysit him. I don’t mean I was ever all alone in the house with him, but Gem used to let me watch him sometimes when she was busy.” She sat back and r
aised her hand to catch the waitress’s attention.

  Pierce met Griff’s gaze, and Pierce shook his head. Did that mean don’t listen to her or well, there goes that? If the latter, that was too bad because while Griff did like Diana and while he was enjoying this meeting, he had been looking forward to seeing what was going to happen next with Pierce. He had been pretty sure something was about to happen.

  Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

  The waitress wound her way to them through the increasingly crowded room. Diana ordered a round of drinks, and then rose, saying, “I’ll be right back!”

  “Sorry about this,” Pierce said as his sister disappeared into the throng.

  Griff laughed. “She’s nice.”

  “She’s okay.” Pierce’s smile was wry.

  Griff hastily ate more of his sandwich. He didn’t want to drink on an empty stomach, and it looked like he might be doing some drinking this evening.

  Pierce said, “You never explained how The Great Gatsby brought you here.”

  He probably wasn’t a bad lawyer. He had a good memory and he was tenacious. Griff said, “Actually a 1963 Karmann Ghia brought me here.”

  “Jarrett was telling me about your car. That’s what you like to do for fun? Rebuild vintage cars?”

  Griff shrugged. “I like rebuilding that particular car. I like doing other things too. I like hiking.”

  “Cars and hiking. That’s it?”

  “Reading. Writing. I work a lot.” All the time, according to Levi. But Levi seemed like a long time ago.

  “Reading. Okay. The Great Gatsby?”

  “You never read it?”

  “Maybe in high school.”

  “High school? I’d have figured you went to a fancy prep school.”

  “I did,” Pierce said. “I went to Lawrenceville. But I can guess what you think of fancy prep schools.” He was smiling, a rueful and surprisingly charming smile.

  Griff considered that smile cautiously. Yes, it did seem like Pierce was flirting with him. At least in another time and place...and with another guy... “What do you like to do?” he asked.

  “I work a lot too. I sail. I play squash. I play the piano.”

  “Do you?”

  “No.” Pierce smiled at him, and Griff thought maybe Pierce did play the piano.

  “Gatsby,” Pierce prodded.

  Griff realized he didn’t want to talk to Pierce about a book that meant as much to him as Gatsby. He was pretty sure Pierce wasn’t going to get it, given that he wasn’t even sure whether he’d read it or not. And if Pierce didn’t get it and made him feel stupid, then whatever was maybe going to happen between them wouldn’t happen.

  Granted, it was hard to picture anything happening. Except every time Griff met Pierce’s old-gold gaze he felt a certain warm awareness in his belly.

  “You know, Thursday night is karaoke,” Diana said to her brother, taking her chair once more.

  “You don’t...” Griff stared from one to the other, and Diana burst into a spluttering laugh.

  “Can you imagine Pierce doing karaoke? Oh my God. I would pay anything to see that.”

  “There ain’t enough money in the world,” Pierce retorted.

  Diana was laughing an evil laugh. “What do you think he’ll pick to sing? He’ll do it for you,” she told Griff. “Ask him.”

  “You’re insane,” Pierce told her, but he was starting to laugh too.

  “What’s your favorite song?” Diana asked Griff.

  “‘Counting Stars,’” he said at random.

  “OneRepublic? I love that song. Pierce, come on!”

  “No more drinks for you,” Pierce said.

  “Coward.”

  The waitress returned at that moment, and Pierce, expression resigned, paid for the round. Diana sipped from her glass, and rose again. “All right. Well, I need to get back to my friends. You two have fun.” She added to Griff, “We’re going to get together for lunch this week. And Pierce is not invited.” She met Pierce’s point-blank look with one of her own. “You’re not invited.”

  Diana sauntered away. She did it well. The crowd seemed to part before her.

  Pierce sipped his Black Velvet. Griff had never known anyone outside of a book order a Black Velvet cocktail. “What is that?” he asked.

  “Champagne and Guinness. Here, try it.” Pierce handed his glass to Griff, and after a hesitation Griff took the tumbler and sipped it cautiously. He could have been swallowing poison for all the attention he paid to the mixture. He was only conscious of sharing Pierce’s glass, of the implications of Pierce sharing his drink with him.

  “Not sure about that,” he said, handing the tumbler back to Pierce.

  “It’s an acquired taste.” Pierce took another mouthful. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “No. It was just me and my mom growing up.”

  “And that was in Janesville? You lived there all your life?”

  “I was born in New Mexico, but we moved to Janesville when I was about six.”

  “It’s nice to have roots, right?” Pierce was smiling, but Griff had the feeling his mind was on something else.

  He finished his meal and pushed the plate away.

  Pierce drummed his fingers in a restless tattoo. Either imagining he was playing “Chopsticks” or trying to make his mind up about something. His eyes slanted Griff’s way.

  Griff smiled.

  Pierce’s eyes seemed to darken. He said abruptly, “Do you want to get out of here?”

  Griff nodded. “I do, yeah.”

  * * *

  Sure enough, Pierce lived in a mansion in Muttontown. Not one of the old, venerable mansions. Pierce’s mansion was new construction. Seven thousand square feet of brick manor house set on two and a half acres of landscaping and woodland. Inside it was all extensive millwork, wide expanses of oak floors, and custom cabinets and fixtures. It smelled like a new house, empty and sharp with the fading scents of paint and timber and stone. There was indeed a grand piano in whatever you called that giant main room. It was too big and too elegant to simply be called a living room. Besides, it didn’t look like Pierce actually lived here. For one thing there was so little furniture and so much house.

  “I don’t entertain at home much,” Pierce said, following Griff’s gaze to the big empty spot in the kitchen where a table and chairs were supposed to sit.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever actually cooked a meal here.”

  “Good thing I didn’t come for the lamb chops then.”

  Pierce laughed and took Griff into his arms. It was easy and practiced, and Griff knew this was going to be safe sex. Not safe sex only in the context of condoms and common sense, but safe sex as in no one’s heart was going to get broken. Because no one was going to fall in love. This was plainly not anything unusual or out of the ordinary for Pierce. And that was okay, because while it was unusual and out of the ordinary for Griff, it couldn’t be anything more than that. He was a stranger in a strange land, and at the end of this week he would be going home to write his book. He would likely never see any of these people again. Certainly there would be no reason to see Pierce again.

  This was just one night. Twenty years from now he would probably not even remember it.

  Then Pierce’s mouth covered his, hot and tasting of Black Velvet, and Griff knew he was not going to forget this night. Not ever.

  Pierce kissed him with sweet expertise, his heart pounding through the fine cotton of his shirt, his cock hard through the tight and tailored trousers, but still controlled, still in charge. Griff felt the exact moment when Pierce stopped thinking and began to get lost in the moment.

  “Jesus God.” Pierce’s quiet, heartfelt groan sent Griff’s own heart rocketing,
his cock surging against the restriction of jeans and boxers...it felt like layers and layers between them, keeping them from each other. Pierce’s breathing roughened, his mouth hungry and seeking, lips nibbling, pulling on Griff’s.

  Eyes closed, hands locked on Pierce’s broad shoulders, Griff opened his mouth to Pierce’s tongue. Nobody had ever kissed him like this. In fact, this much aggression usually turned him off. But this...this heat, this insistence that felt as much like longing as force, this seemed to crackle through his bloodstream like champagne bubbles—or maybe just an oxygen bubble heading straight to his heart.

  He laughed shakily and Pierce’s lips parted from his. Pierce’s eyes looked dazed. “What?”

  Griff shook his head.

  “What?” Pierce insisted, his gaze clearing.

  “You’re beautiful,” Griff said. He blushed as the words came out, but it was true. Pierce was way out of his class. And it wasn’t because of the expensive haircut or the fancy clothes. Griff was even getting to like that heavy, perfumy aftershave, especially at this time of day when the fragrance had faded and Pierce smelled more like soap and the exertions of the day.

  Pierce smiled. The wrong smile right then could have killed the moment dead, but the corner of his mouth was wry and the skin around his eyes crinkled as though Griff had said something unexpectedly endearing. “No,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

  His hands had been smoothing Griff’s shoulders, as though learning the shape of him, but now they slid down Griff’s arms, found his hands. He laced his fingers with Griff’s. “Come on,” he said softly. “Come upstairs.”

  * * *

  Pierce left the bedroom lights on and so the room was as bright as a summer day. Even so, Griff saw nothing but Pierce. There was a bed, of course—they were sprawled on its white and cloudlike billows—but that was the extent of his awareness. So much for his reporter’s eye.

  Pierce’s naked body was strong, almost sinuous, as he pressed Griff into the mattress, sliding up and down teasingly, their cocks rubbing and bumping. He was braced on his arms, smiling down confidently at Griff. His hair fell in a black sweep over his forehead.