B000FC1MHI EBOK (10 page)

“Yes.”

“So. What do you think? Is there a murderer involved here?”

Noah averted his eyes. “I’ve been looking for someone to blame, and that’d do it. But it’d only be a diversion. Wouldn’t change the outcome any.” Chewing on his cheek again, he set off for his father’s grave. The men were finishing up. He watched them shovel the last of the dirt onto the mound. When they were done, he shook each hand. He continued to stand there after they left.

Julia watched quietly, until she began to feel awkward. When she turned to leave, he said, “Hold up. I’m coming.”

“There’s no need. This is your time with him.” She was barely past the cemetery gate, though, when he was walking beside her. Seconds later, a beautiful red-and-white dog bounded up the hill from the road and danced excitedly around his legs.

“Is he yours?” she asked.

“Yes. His name’s Lucas. He’s probably thrilled the old man’s gone. They were never the best of friends.”

“He’s a striking dog,” Julia said, admiring a feathered tail, white bib, silky ears, and freckled nose. “What kind is he?”

“A Nova Scotia duck tolling retriever.”

“That’s a big name for a medium-size dog,” she said with a curious smile. “What’s a ‘tolling retriever’?”

Noah stopped walking and bent to scrub the dog’s ears. The dog raised adoring eyes to his. “Tollers are a breed of dog used as decoys for ducks. They jump around onshore to distract the duck while the hunter takes aim. Since we don’t hunt ducks here, it means that this one’s forever running back and forth, up and down the dock, in and out of the boat. It means he likes the water, which can be a problem when he goes after a gull and finds himself in rough chop.”

The instant he straightened, the dog shot off down the hill after the departing cemetery truck. The only two vehicles left were Zoe’s little Plymouth and, down the road a bit, Noah’s dark blue pickup.

They started walking again.

Julia watched the dog. He followed the cemetery crew for a minute, was distracted and chased a bird, was distracted again and made for the woods. “Does he ever stop?”

“Now and then. He probably slept through the service in the bed of the truck.”

They walked toward the bottom of the hill. Noah seemed deep in thought, but the silence was a comfortable one. The sun had come out, warming the ocean breeze to a perfect temperature. Birdsong came from the trees, close enough not to be drowned out by the surf. Julia took a deep breath and relaxed.

They were nearly at the car when Noah spoke. “I keep thinking about what his friends said. You know, about the kind of man he was. I wonder what they’d say about me, if I was the one who had died.”

Julia wasn’t surprised that his thoughts mirrored hers. It went with the territory of missing death by a hair. “What would they say?”

“Nothing interesting. I’m an average kind of guy.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“Actually, there is,” he said with feeling. “I could be more.” He stopped speaking. Julia waited for him to go on, but he was frowning, lost in thought, eyes focused on the road below. Suddenly, he looked at her. “What about you? What would they say?”

“Loyal. Loving. Able. Obedient.” The words were fresh in her mind.

“Obedient?”

“I’m a very docile person. Or was,” she added with a half smile. “I’m not identifying with that woman at this moment.”

“How not?”

“Being here on Big Sawyer, for one thing. I was breaking new ground when I decided to visit Zoe for two weeks. I’ve never left my husband for this long. He’s… dependent.”

“Physically?”

“No.” She was about to say emotionally, but Monte wasn’t really that. “Custodially,” she finally said. Not caring to elaborate, she rushed on. “My mother thinks I should hurry back to New York, because of the accident and all. But I want my time away.” She smiled in self-deprecation. “That’s out of character. I’m not a very independent sort. But you all are. Maybe there’s something in the air here. I’m feeling a little like a stranger to myself.”

It was an opening. She might have liked to talk more about that, because Noah was the only other person who had experienced what she had. Well, Kimmie Colella had experienced the same thing. But Kimmie wasn’t talking.

Noah didn’t pursue the issue. Her disappointment was short-lived, though, because he smiled. It was a gentle smile for a man who seemed rock-hard and somber.

“Maybe it’s Zoe’s clothes,” he suggested.

Julia wore Zoe’s slacks and sweater. She plucked at the latter. It was charcoal angora, shot with ribbons of blue at random spots. “The sweater gave me away, huh?”

“Her things are distinct,” Noah said with respect. “Maybe you’ll feel more like yourself once you have your own clothes.”

But Julia didn’t think so. More to the point, she didn’t know if she wanted to feel like her old self. Looking back at the woman she’d been, she knew she wasn’t a very interesting person. Interesting people weren’t content to play second fiddle all the time. They didn’t fade into the woodwork or defer to their husbands. They didn’t always play it safe.

Looking back at that woman, Julia found her wanting.

She was saved from confessing this to Noah, though, when Zoe’s truck rumbled up the road. After bucking erratically, it came to a stop.

“Sounds like gear trouble,” Noah said, which reminded Julia of gear wars, which she wanted to ask him about but instantly forgot, because Zoe wasn’t the one climbing out of the truck. It was a petite young woman who, with one marked exception, looked very much like Molly.

“It’s not gear trouble,” Julia said in a rising voice. “I believe that’s my daughter, who doesn’t have a
clue
about driving a stick shift.” She set off across the grass, walking at first as she stared in disbelief, then running when she realized that, despite the boyish haircut, it really
was
Molly.

By contrast, Molly was frozen in place, one foot on the running board and one on the ground. She was looking in Julia’s direction, her expression registering something akin to horror.

By the time Julia reached the truck, her excitement had turned to concern. Molly had Julia’s blonde hair and slim build, but she was less fair-skinned, and she had Monte’s dark eyes rather than Julia’s hazel ones. That skin was washed of color now, and the eyes were red-rimmed.

Julia took Molly’s face in her hands and spent only the briefest seconds looking at that startling short hair before focusing on her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Who’s that man?” Molly asked.

“Noah Prine. He survived the accident with me. This funeral was for his father. What’s
wrong,
sweetie?”

There was a tiny pause. Then a tense, “Nothing.”

“Yesterday morning you were in
Paris
!” They had talked then. “And what is this?” she asked, moving hands lightly over Molly’s head.

“It’s the rage there. I thought it looked great.”

“It does. I’m just startled. You’ve always had long hair. I wasn’t prepared.”

Molly shot Noah another glance before refocusing on Julia. “That makes two of us. It’s weird seeing you with a man who isn’t Dad.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Men are so bad.” Seeming to simply crumble, she wrapped her arms around Julia’s neck and, weeping softly, held on more tightly than she had done in years.

Julia’s mind went in a dozen different directions at once. “What happened?”

“Nothing
.
”

Julia held her back. “If it was nothing, you’d still be abroad. How did you… when…?”

“Last night,” Molly said, brushing at tears with the palm of her hand. “I kept thinking that my job stunk, that my boss sucked, that my roommates were totally selfish and unfriendly, and here you were nearly killed, and how could I stay there when someone should be with you? Only they routed me through Chicago,” she wailed, crying again, “and the plane back to New York was two hours late, and by the time I took a cab home it was after one, and Dad didn’t know I was coming, and we had a big fight.”

“About the hair?” Julia asked uneasily. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Noah heading for his truck. He raised a hand;
talk later,
it said.

“About
men,
” Molly cried. “The things they do. They were just so disgusting at the restaurant, Mom. I could have been someone walking in off the street, and they would have been nicer. It’s like they were doing me a big favor letting me watch them work—which they were— but they were also supposed to let me work, too. I mean, there I was, their
slave
for the summer, doing an internship for
no pay,
and they were rude. Like
I
was the one who offered to sponsor an internship. I haven’t spent the last two years at culinary school just so I could smile and nod and say,
‘Vous êtes brilliant, monsieur’
!”

Julia was oddly relieved. “Why didn’t you tell me things were so bad?”

“Because I kept thinking they would get better. Dad kept insisting this was going to be a worthwhile summer, quote unquote, and I kept reminding myself of it, but then I kept thinking that I’d had a choice. I wanted New York, but Dad thought Paris would look better on my résumé. Well, I don’t care about my résumé. What’s a résumé worth if you’re miserable? And I was, Mom. That was
not
where I wanted to be.”

Julia smoothed that short blonde hair. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I wish you’d told me.”

“What good would it have done? I accepted the internship, and I probably would have stayed, because
God forbid,
” she drawled sarcastically, “Dad should think I’m a quitter. Then you were in the accident, and it changed everything. I had to see for myself that you were okay.”

“So you flew to New York by way of Chicago. But how did you get up here?”

“I flew to Portland and took a bus the rest of the way.”

Julia wasn’t surprised. Molly had always been resourceful, particularly when she wanted to do something that one or both of her parents did not want her doing. Julia took pride in Molly’s independence. Now, she also felt relief. It was nice knowing that Molly could take care of herself, in case something had indeed happened to Julia. “Did Dad give you money?”

“I didn’t
ask
Dad for money. I used my bank card. Dad doesn’t know I’m here. I just showered, packed a bag, and left.”

Julia’s unease returned. She wondered if there was more Molly wasn’t saying. “Did he see you leave?”

“Yes, but we didn’t talk.”

“Didn’t he ask where you were going?”

“Yes, but I didn’t answer.”

“He’s probably worried sick,” Julia said.

“I doubt it.”

“Why do you say that?”

Molly leaned against the truck. With her short hair, three earrings per lobe, and the angry look on her face, she seemed uncharacteristically rebellious. “Because he has a busy life, and that life revolves around him. It always did. Remember the time he was supposed to be looking at colleges with us? Or the time he was supposed to be vacationing in Washington, D.C., with us? Or the time he was supposed to be chaperoning my senior prom? Or the time—”

Julia put her fingers to Molly’s mouth to stop the flow. “We’ve been through this before. But he loves you. I’ll call him as soon as we get back to Zoe’s.” She looked again at that hair; it was going to take some getting used to. “I’m sorry about the job. It sounded like such a good opportunity—and you were getting academic credits for it. What’ll you do now?”

“Go back to New York with you and look for something else,” she said. “I know it’s late. But I can talk my way into things.”

“You certainly can.” The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Molly might have Julia’s sensitivity, but she had Monte’s drive—and his tongue. “Only I may stay here a little longer,” she added. The idea of extending her stay had been a germ, floating around without concrete form until now.

Molly frowned. “I thought the deal was for two weeks. One’s gone.”

“Deal?” Julia echoed with a puzzled smile.

“Plan.”

“It was. Then the accident happened. I haven’t done much of what I thought I’d do.”

“Like photography? But if your equipment is lost, how can you do it at all?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure things out. It’s been an emotional week,” she said with a glance up the hill.

“Not much fun? Nor for Aunt Zoe. She looked pretty stressed when I saw her. I mean, I couldn’t believe she was there at the dock when the ferry pulled in. I saw our car back on the mainland, only I didn’t have the keys, and then I stepped off the boat at this end, and there she was. I thought, like, she just… had a vision of my coming. Then she explained that she was meeting someone else.” Her voice lowered, taking on greater weight. “Mom, the guy who died wasn’t much older than me.”

“I know.”

“And his brother wasn’t much older than him. Zoe borrowed another truck and made me take hers. She told me you were here.” She glanced up at the cemetery, much as Julia had just done. “Can we leave now? This place freaks me out. Besides, you need to call Grandpa. I talked with him while I was at the bus station. He said he was waiting for you to call.”