Ginger Fox

"Isn't it time to head back?" I rest my face on the towel spread on the sand and look at Jon, who is sitting next to me.
I check my watch, and it's almost 6:30 PM. I'd be fine staying on this sand all night, just to remain hidden from Jonathan's view.
"I think we can stay a little longer. Do you want to go back already?" He shakes his head, smiling at me.
"No. I want to see the sunset before we head home." I give him a weak smile, turning back to watch the evening sky.
"I was thinking we could have dinner around here. Junk food, sweets, soda, what do you think? There's no need to head back so soon..."
"Gim, we left the mansion at nine in the morning." His laughter grows as he buries his feet in the sand.
"Yeah, we did..." I sit up, removing my sunglasses and shaking my foot in agony.
Damn it! I had dragged Jon out of bed at 8:30, already packed, letting him have only a quick coffee, keeping my eyes locked on my toast while feeling his blue eyes burning into me from across the table. I wanted to die of rage, rubbing Baby's face in the jam when she made a stupid joke.
"What do you want for dinner? I have no idea what to tell the cook." Aunt Charlote turns to Roy while spreading butter on her bread.
"Do you want more juice, Jon?" I fill my glass with juice, looking at him. He shakes his head, refusing and rubbing his sleepy eyes.
I put the pitcher back on the table, bringing my glass to my lips, stealing a quick glance at his scowling face. As soon as I see his pupils staring at me, I quickly look away.
"Maybe a roast beef, I don't know..." Aunt Charlote continues her search for the evening menu.
"Whatever you choose is fine, Aunt." The hairs on the back of my neck stand up just from the deep timbre coming from his throat. I push my juice further away, refusing to look in his direction.
"I think Jonathan will prefer a roast rabbit tonight." The juice that was going into my mouth goes down the wrong way, and I almost feel my brain freeze from the pain as Baby shoots her words, bursting into laughter.
"Oh, my God!" I look at the cheeky blonde with anger as she laughs, patting my back.
After coffee, I nearly dragged Jon to the garage. We were both far away in a matter of minutes. We visited some historical sites on the island, then had lunch at the marina club. We spent most of the afternoon walking in the fishing village, talking and laughing, but inside my head, I was breaking apart, trying to figure out how to avoid going back to the mansion so soon. By late afternoon, when the sun was no longer so harsh on Jon's sensitive skin, we decided to hit the beach, but with each passing second, I grew more agitated.
"Jon, do you know where your grandmother went?" I ask the first thing that comes to mind to get out of these thoughts. I tried calling the number Baby gave me, but no one answered.
"No," Jon answers quickly, without taking his eyes off the sand.
"Strange. Baby has been trying to call her for days, but she doesn't answer."
"We still haven't been to the lake house." Jon turns to me, speaking calmly, which lets me know he doesn't want to talk about his grandmother.
I smile, shaking my head at him. I don't fully understand Jon's relationship with his maternal grandmother, so I remain silent and let the topic drop.
"That's true, you haven't shown it to me yet." I feel a thread of hope, wondering if I can hide there. "Do you think we can spend the night there?"
Jon blinks in confusion, laughing even more.
"Like camping?" It has potential as an escape plan, this lake house.
"Yeah, something like that!" I raise my hand to him, feeling the slap he gives me in return for the high-five. "But tell me, what's in that house?"
"Actually, I've never been inside. Sometimes I see Uncle going there." My arms shrink. Now I know it's a bad idea to want to hide in the lake house. "Don't you want to go anymore? You look disappointed..."
"No, I do want to," I answer quickly, smoothing out my disappointed expression so I don't upset him. "So, are we going to eat something around here, or do you want to have dinner at the mansion?" He stands up, taking off his shirt and dropping it next to me.
"I don't know! Let's stay here a bit longer. Do you want to go into the water?" I look at the sea, standing up quickly.
I remove the loose dress, leaving it with Jon's shirt. I check that the bikini is properly arranged and covering everything. I release my hair from the bun, seeing Jon adjust the string of his swim trunks. I give his shoulder a gentle push, making him stumble.
"I'll get there before you, skinny!" I sprint ahead of him, laughing and hearing his grumbles as he tries to catch up.
We almost arrive together in the cold water. Jon pushes me, making me dive, but before I fall, I pull him with me. For this moment, I have no more agitation; it's just me and Jon, with him being a normal teenager for his age.


***


"Bruce Springsteen?" I dry my hair and turn toward the voice behind me, near the car door.
Detective Dexter pulls a lollipop from his mouth, pointing to the car's stereo. "The song that's playing. The singer's name is Bruce Springsteen." He gives a weak smile, putting the lollipop back in his mouth. Looking at the car, I throw the towel onto the back seat of the jeep, grab the dress hanging on the vehicle's door, and quickly put it on.
I don’t need him to tell me who sings "Dancing in the Dark." I grew up with my dad playing Bruce Springsteen’s music at home, making it one of his favorite songs. When the upbeat rhythm started playing, I turned up the volume a bit while I waited for Jon to buy his milkshake across the street. I turn to check if the skinny guy is still oblivious, picking his flavor.
"I know who sings it," I say, looking back at the man, wondering how long he’s been there. "What do you want?"
"Well, I was waiting for you to call me." I breathe calmly, pulling my sunglasses from the dashboard and putting them on.
"Look, I said everything I needed to say. I'm really sorry, but I don’t know what else you want me to say; I’ve already told you everything." God! I try to believe I'm not lying completely, after all, I did talk about what I saw that day, just not that I suspected Bob might be a pedophile.
"What is your actual connection to the Roy family, Miss Fox?" Dexter puts his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow as he annoys me with his questions.
"I just work. I’m Jon’s companion..."
"Don’t you find it odd that a boy his age needs a babysitter?" I curl the corner of my mouth, preferring not to give my opinion.
"Well, what I find odd is you hovering around an employee." I grip the car door with my fingers, shaking my leg to ease the agitation that’s returning.
"What was Miss Roy's relationship with Bob like?" My leg freezes when I realize what he wants to know, remembering what Baby told me about Bob's mother thinking she was having an affair with that jerk.
"Distant. Baby hardly ever talked to Bob. To be honest, Bob wasn’t the most pleasant person anyone would want around." I see him laugh, shaking his head as he pulls the lollipop from his mouth.
"I admit I'm not a fan of the kid, but his mother wants answers, and many of them remain unanswered."
"I understand her, but look, I’m not the one with those answers, and neither is Baby." I close my expression, shifting my weight to my other leg, which is now tingling. "How is Bob? It’s not because we didn’t get along that I don’t care about him."
"He’s still in a coma, in critical condition. When he had the seizure, his vomit went into his airways, worsening his aspiration pneumonia." He shrugs, with no trace of concern for the boy.
And that seems even stranger. If he’s not anxious about Bob’s coma, why is he so insistent on getting answers?
"Why are you still here, Mr. Dexter?" His face turns toward me, letting me see his curious eyes.
"Too many loose ends, Miss Fox. For my profession, it becomes irresistible." I think that of everything he could have said, this was the only truth that came from his lips. "Well, I'll see you around. When you need to talk, just call me, and I’ll come."
"How do you get on and off the island?" I’m intrigued by this. Maybe Baby is wrong, and Roy doesn’t control who arrives and leaves the island by the ferry.
"Let’s say Mr. Roy’s restrictions can’t be enforced if I own the boat. That’s why I rented one." I widen my eyes. Jonathan really banned him from using the ferry.
"Gim, don't you want any? It’s delicious!" I turn to Jon, who approaches the car but remains silent, watching the man standing next to us.
"No, Jon. Come on, get in; it’s time to go back." I watch him get into the car and fasten his seatbelt.
"Weren’t we going to stay here a bit longer?" I shake my head, sitting in the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut with force.
"No, we’re going to the mansion." I start the car, releasing the handbrake and looking at the silent man on the sidewalk. "Goodbye, Mr. Dexter!"
I drive off, keeping my eyes on the rearview mirror, watching the man standing there, staring at us.