Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach

successful and this little exchange proved why.
    "That pier gets worse every time I see it," Jon muttered, staring out the window at the wooden pier below.
    The first third of the pier was used by the restaurant for outdoor seating and seemed solid enough. But beyond the dining area with its white vinyl chairs and white vinyl tables, a barricade had been erected to close off the remaining two-thirds of the pier. A large warning sign was posted on the barricade.
    "It undulates like a snake," Jon complained.
    Devin turned in his chair for a better look. "Guess the storms got to it. Glad they've got up that barrier."
    After we each paid our checks, I told Melanie, "Jon and I are going out on the pier. I'll see you back at the house later."
    "Sure, shug . Gordon, let's take my car. I'll drive. You relax."
    I smiled to myself as I waved them off. Relax? Poor Gordon, he didn't know what he was in for.
    As we climbed the ramp alongside the restaurant, I said to Jon, "I think this vacation may rob me of my sanity."
    "Then move out," he said irritably. "I don't trust that Devin. He's trouble. Move back home. It's closer to the work site anyway and you won't have the drive into town every day."
    I stepped out onto the pier. "Oh, I know you're right, Jon, but Melanie's been planning this group-living adventure for months. She really wants me there, and, well, you know, she is my sister. I can't let her down."
    He shrugged. "Well, watch yourself with Devin."
    We had reached the barricade by then. "Danger," the sign read in big bold red letters. "Pier closed. No trespassing."
    Peering through a large opening in the barricade, I saw how the pier humped up then rolled down. A section of the railing bowed out over the water. "One of the waiters told me he'd climbed out there on a dare and it swayed under his feet."
    "The next hurricane will finish it," Jon predicted.

9

    "I'm so worried about Nick. I haven't heard from him all week," I confided in Jon as I crumbled cornbread with my fingers then devoured the crumbs. I tend to eat when I'm upset. When I'm happy. When I'm bored. I just like food.
    Usually Jon makes excuses for Nick but tonight he said, "He shouldn't be doing this to you, Ashley. I can't imagine going off and not calling my wife for a week, especially if that wife were you. But he's done this before. Remember when he was transferred to Atlanta? He was supposed to call, then he just left you hanging, high and dry."
    "But that was over a year and a half ago, Jon, before we were married. He hasn't done anything like that since. Besides, he explained about what he was going through in Atlanta, that terrible case he had to solve."
    "He neglects you, Ashley. When he isn't traveling, he's taking intensive language courses at the University. Can you honestly say that you two ever spend time together?"
    "Sure we spend time together," I said defensively. "In May we celebrated our first anniversary and shared a wonderful evening. And then in June we went out for my birthday."
    "June? That's the last time you shared an evening? I have news for you, Ashley, your birthday was over two months ago. This is not how happy marriages are made!"
    Duh! I was speechless. Was this my buddy Jon speaking?
    Our waiter approached to take our orders and I was glad for the distraction. Everything Jon had said was true, and nothing I hadn't told myself. Yet hearing it from someone else seemed -- disloyal.
    Jon had taken me out for Sunday night dinner at Savannah's Restaurant on the Causeway because he thought I had to get away from the crowd at the house, especially Devin. He told me I needed cheering up but so far he wasn't doing a good job of it.
    "What about the other times he traveled on assignment for Homeland Security? Did he call then?"
    The waiter brought the wine Jon had ordered. He uncorked the bottle ceremoniously, then poured a small amount in Jon's glass. Jon tasted, approved, and we were served.
    "Nick called faithfully. Every night. And after that month-long assignment he had with the Department of Energy at the Livermore Lab in California last October, his trips have been short. Workshops and conferences mostly in the D.C. area. He'd be gone for a few days, then back. Mostly weekends."
    Jon was frowning. He'd become very protective of me of late. I felt the same way about him. I always felt like I had to protect him from the women he got involved with, like they might take advantage of him. He was so good-hearted and guileless, wore