“Are you talking about this bar, specifically?” he asked. “Because I don’t recall reading that in any of the island literature.”
“All I wanted was to find out if you know Adam Coulson. It’s a simple request. I’m willing to pay for the information.” Erin plunked two one-thousand-dollar Jamaican notes down on the bar, the equivalent of about twenty-two American dollars or a little over fourteen British pounds. “Is that enough to buy an answer?” Her Realtor had told her to come to Trinique’s and ask. This was Trinique’s, she was asking. So far, though, she wasn’t getting what she wanted.
The bartender turned round, pocketed the money in one swift movement, then said, “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I know Adam Coulson.”
“And?”
“And that’s what you asked, that’s what you paid for. I answered your question, the deal is over.”
“Meaning you want more money?”
“No. Two thousand was enough. And I appreciate it since I didn’t have to work hard for it.” He smiled, gave her a fake salute. Picked up another glass and started to polish.
Erin wasn’t going to be deterred by this man. Six months … she’d been working toward this for six months and nothing was going to stop her. Nothing! Time was precious now. Her father was going blind, slowly but surely. Being put off by the bartender, or by Dr Adam Coulson, wasn’t an option. “Well, I don’t appreciate it. You knew exactly what I wanted, and you took advantage of me.” She held out her hand, palm up. “Give it back. Or tell me where I can find Adam Coulson.”
He studied her for a moment, like he was weighing his options. Then he turned his back on her yet again and continued polishing. In the background, the Jamaican singer, a happy-looking young man with dreadlocks halfway down to his waist and a smile that nearly offset the bartender’s bad mood raised the level of the steel drums he was playing, causing the dozen or so people sitting at the tiny two-tops scattered around the open-style hut to raise the level of their talking.
This was a waste of time. A complete, absurd waste of time. And while so far, every islander she’d met had been friendly, this bartender, who was obviously not an islander, was the first one she’d met who was disagreeable. More than disagreeable, he was downright hostile. There was no point talking to him. She’d have to get her information elsewhere.
Without another word, Erin Glover spun around and marched out of Trinique’s, not so much angry over losing her money but over the fact that she’d been gullible, that she’d been taken advantage of. Her father had taught her better, had taught her how to get along in the world, no matter what the situation. She could almost see him laughing at her … good-naturedly. Laughing, and teaching her another life lesson … Don’t be so naive, Erin. People out there are always waiting for your kind.
Algernon Glover. Drs Algernon and Erin Glover. Adoptive father and daughter. They were an odd pairing to be sure. Full-blooded Jamaican father, full-blooded Irish daughter. As her father always said, the black and white of it. Some people considered it a pairing to stare at, but she considered it … normal. She’d met her father when she’d been five, and he’d saved her life many times since then, in both the literal as well as the emotional sense. She loved the man dearly, owed him everything she was and everything she had, and she wasn’t going to let one dimwit bartender stand in her way.
“He’s the one you want.”
Erin turned back to the door. “Who?”
“I heard the conversation. Saw the way he treated you. Shameful. But he’s got a lot on his mind these days, and he’s regretting his decision to sell his land.”
It was the singer. From a distance he looked older. Up close, he looked twenty, give or take a year. Decked out in rust-colored and blue-striped cotton pants and a white cotton shirt, he was simply standing there, waiting to give her information. And not holding out his hand for a gratuity. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said, trying to exercise the caution her father had taught her.
“Adam Coulson. He’s the one you want. You’re the doctor who wants to buy his land, aren’t you? Dr Glover? We got word from Port Wallace a while ago that you were coming here, looking for him.”
“Actually, I’m the one who already bought his land.” She was amazed how quick the news of her arrival had spread. She’d made the enquiries and word of her trip up to Regina had raced here faster than she could have gotten there.
“Well, that’s him.” He pointed to the bartender. “Over there. The one baring his teeth and growling like an angry dog.”
“Can’t be. The Adam Coulson I want to talk to is the local doctor. That guy looks more like the local malcontent.”
“One’s not exclusive of the other, you know. And that’s Adam Coulson, the full-time doctor and part-time malcontent.” He held out his hand to Erin. “I’m Davion Thomas, by the way. On my good days, I’m a singer here at Trinique’s. On my best days, I’m a future medical school student and a current paramedic being employed by Adam Coulson … the doctor, not the malcontent.” He pointed to the bartender again. “Him.”
“So when I asked him, why didn’t he tell me who he was?”
“Like I said, you’re the one who bought his property and he’s not fond of you because of that. He’s also having second thoughts.”
Erin blinked twice. “So I’m the bad guy here because I bought what he offered for sale?”
“Apparently, you are. And I’d like to tell you that he’ll get over it, but Adam’s a strong man with strong opinions. It could take him a while.”
“So, in the mean time, while I’m waiting for him to get over his strong opinion, I’m supposed to do what?”
Davion shrugged. “Stay out of his way, maybe. Let him adjust.”
“I don’t have time to stay out of his way. I’m here to complete the business transaction for my property.”
“Your property, his dreams. He’ll adjust, but you being here in person has set him off. He’s having a hard time reconciling to those dreams disappearing. That’s why he’s so …”
She knew what it was like to lose a dream and she did feel bad for him in that. But business was business, and she was on a timeline. “That’s why he’s being so grumpy,” she supplied. Watching him for a moment, she noticed that he was quite obviously avoiding looking at her. Going out of his way, in fact, to dodge eye contact. So much so it was obvious to anyone who cared to consider the dynamics. “So, he’s the doctor and the bartender?” Odd combination. In med school, many of her friends had held a variety of jobs to make their way through, but by the time they’d started to practice, most of those jobs had been discarded.
Davion stepped a little closer to Erin. Not so much as to be offensive but more like he was about to reveal a secret he didn’t want overheard. “He’s not the bartender, but he steps in when he’s asked to. He is the doctor, though, like I said. Treats everyone in Regina and all the area around it when they need medical attention. He’s a good man, Dr Glover. Takes care of us, never turns anybody away when they can’t pay, and most of the time they can’t pay. But he doesn’t want to get involved with people so much.”
Surprisingly, she had a flash of admiration for Coulson for what he did as a doctor. But as quickly as it had come, one look at his scowl and it vanished. “Look, I’m glad he has a good medical ethic, but that has nothing to do with me. All I want here is to get the deed to my property and be done with this.”
“Except he doesn’t want to sell it to you now.”
“But he already sold it. And took my money.” She liked Davion. He had a real charm about him, and a maturity well beyond his years.