The Butterfly Forest

TWENTY-EIGHT

I’d been working on Jupiter for five days, sanding, painting, and replacing zincs on the props when my phone rang for the first time. I couldn’t remember where I’d last seen my cell. I set a can of marine varnish down and picked up the cell from a dock chair. Elizabeth Monroe said, “I just wanted to thank you for all of your help. Molly and I are most appreciative to you, Sean. Anyway, I’m glad they found Soto.”

“Maybe they’ll find the reason he attacked you two.”

“I’m praying. I feel so much better knowing he’s behind bars with bond denied.”

“He’ll stay there for a very long time if they can build a case against him with forensics in connection to the death of that girl.”

“I read her name in the papers, Nicole Davenport. She was only seventeen. Poor girl ran away from home. The news said she lived in Connecticut with her parents until one day she left home with her boyfriend. He returned after two weeks, but she apparently fell in with some cult and kept going.”

“Please give Molly my best.”

“I will. She’s so excited. The butterfly rainforest is doing a few new releases of some very rare butterflies. She’s been so involved in all of them. She came back yesterday from a release at the Myakka State Park somewhere south of Sarasota. She’s doing one more tomorrow somewhere.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We need a few more Molly Monroe’s in this world.”

She was silent for a few seconds. “And we need a few more Sean O’Brien’s, too. Look, please don’t think I’m being presumptive or somehow forward… but I thought maybe we could have dinner sometime.”

“What time did you have in mind?”

“Well, it’s not like my calendar’s full. Whenever you have some free time. No pressure just when you have a window—”

“How about Saturday night?”

“This Saturday night?”

“Happens in three days.”

“Yes it does… umm. Sure, that will be fine.”

“I know where we can get some of the freshest red snapper you’ve ever tasted.”

“Where?”

“Two boats down from mine. Nick will be back in by then. I’m betting he’ll have some snapper. I’ll select two prime pieces, make it an old Greek way, toss a salad, and serve it with some chilled chardonnay. How’s that sound?”

“I’m almost a loss for words. Do I come to your boat for dinner?”

“That would work fine, but I’ll be packing Max up Saturday morning and heading back to my shack on the river. I’ll give you the address. Be there at six, and I’ll show you a sunset that will put you at an even greater loss for words.”

“Just having a man cook for me leaves me speechless.”