Misery Bay: A Mystery (27 page)

Then she heard the familiar sound of the helicopter returning.

41

R
OLAND WOKE EARLY. IT WAS
the pattern of a lifelong man of the sea. This morning, the sun pouring through his window was a most welcome reminder that today Grace would be home alone, sunning herself.

He rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes. It was six a.m. Plenty of time to get ready. He’d have a leisurely breakfast, then call Rose and tell her he couldn’t bring her home from the hospital till the evening.

He had no idea why he had so fixated on Grace. He’d seen lots of beautiful women, even had sex with a few unlucky prostitutes who were knockouts but had lost the lottery the day they met up with Roland. They would never give him their direct number afterwards. Once with Roland was enough, even for professionals.

Perhaps it was simply because Grace was so close and yet so unattainable. Her slim, willowy body and fine features swam before him in his nightly dreams. That he only caught glimpses of her once or twice a week just made her proximity all the more frustrating.

He put on a T-shirt and sweatpants, stained from years of use on his boat, and sat in front of the computer. He wanted to check the weather and make sure the sun that both he and Grace were anticipating would actually materialize. His years as a fisherman had given him an intuitive feel for the changeable maritime climate. Sometimes, he could almost smell changes in the systems that hurled themselves at Nova Scotia’s rocky coast in bewildering and ultimately unpredictable patterns.

The early morning sun was no assurance that the fine weather would continue throughout the day. Indeed, the satellite image for the Eastern shore looked decidedly more iffy. A heavy fogbank sat just offshore and there was a gale forecast off Sable Island. Warnings were already out for fishermen and small pleasure craft, predicting four- to eight-foot swells.

Not a good day to go to sea, though he had experienced worse. But it just might be a good day for bird-watching …

By nine o’clock, it was warm if not hot, and he was already ensconced up in the trees with his binoculars, his camera, and his zoom lens. He’d even hauled a plastic chair up into the woods so he could be comfortable. At a quarter past nine, he heard the door to his neighbor’s house open and close a number of times. Then he saw a car slip out of the driveway with Leo and Ingrid aboard, heading for Halifax.

It was just the two of them now. It almost felt like they were connected somehow. His anticipation was palpable.

At nine-thirty, she came out onto the deck, but he was surprised to see she didn’t have her bikini on. Instead, she was dressed in warm clothes, pants, a long-sleeved top, and a shell jacket over that.

He stared at her. What was she up to? This wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

Grace went back inside and reappeared in a few minutes with a backpack. She carried it down the porch steps and over to one of the solo kayaks they kept ever ready on the shore. She threw the pack and a water bottle inside, slipped on a life jacket, and pushed the boat into the water, where she clambered aboard and headed out to sea.

Roland couldn’t believe his eyes. Where the hell was she going? He sat in the trees for twenty minutes, watching as Grace paddled straight out toward the first archipelago and disappeared into the maze of rocky spits and spruce-covered islets.

He was beside himself. What a day for Grace to decide to go for a paddle. She was home alone, the sun was out, and by all rights, she ought to be basking right now in front of him, maybe even slipping off her top to soak in the rays.

Could she be planning to sunbathe on one of the offshore islands? Maybe she and the others suspected what he was up to in the woods. That had to be it. Grace was heading where she knew she could have some real privacy.

Well, it wasn’t going to work. He went back to the house and put together a few supplies of his own. Then he walked down to the wharf and fired up the boat engine. He was nearly an hour behind her and knew it might be hard to find her in the maze of islands. But he was determined. He knew where all the best places were for tourists to picnic and sunbathe. He’d taken enough groups out over the years. He would check them one by one. The bright orange kayak wouldn’t be hard to spot unless she actually tried to hide it, and there was no reason for her to do that.

He’d find her. No problem.

He motored into the first maze of islands, throttling back so his boat would make as little noise as possible. The upgrade he’d been forced to give the engines following the sinking of his boat at the wharf had made them run much more silently than they used to. At least something good had come out of that fiasco. Still, he cut the engines back even further until he was just trolling along. They made very little sound, though out here in the quiet of the offshore islands, even a little bit of noise could carry a long way.

He maneuvered in and out of the endless collection of spits, rocky beaches, and plunging cliffs, checking several secret bays he knew about, each time easing around points, prepared to back off if he spotted her boat. After an hour of this, he’d still seen no sign of her. He decided to move on to the outer islands. She just might be crazy enough to go out that far, even though the weather and fog made it foolhardy.

The outer islands, called the Gull Islands, were two elongated, spruce-covered ridges. There were several rocky beaches where one could put ashore. Maybe that was where she’d gone.

As he cruised slowly along one of the islands, he suddenly caught sight of the bright orange boat, pulled up above the high-water mark in a small, rocky bay. It was no place for sunning oneself, and he almost hadn’t seen the craft, for it was clear she’d made an effort to push it into the brush. There was no sign of her. He turned his boat around and made for a secluded bay nearby, where he anchored and took his dinghy in to shore.

After securing the craft on shore, he carried his binoculars and camera and began to cut across the interior, hoping to come across her from a direction she wouldn’t expect. It was hard going. The woods were thick and full of roots that caused him to stumble continuously. His uneven gait through the tightly packed trees made for slow going. After just a couple of minutes he was wheezing heavily, his heart pounding. He was out of shape for this sort of thing. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have a heart attack.

Finally, he came to a small fisherman’s hut. He watched it for several minutes before deciding no one was around. Beyond the building was a trail that led up to the highest point on the island, from which, he knew, there was a spectacular view down a line of islands to Lighthouse Point in the distance. If Grace wanted a view and an open spot to sunbathe, this was the best one around.

He approached the top cautiously, stopping and listening continuously. He didn’t want to stumble upon her. That would ruin everything. If she saw him, she’d pick up, put on her clothes and head for home.

But at the top, there was no sign of her. He cursed his luck. Then he saw another fishing boat pulled in close beneath him at the base of a steep, rocky cliff that plunged into the sea. He’d never seen the boat before, which was pretty strange. He thought he knew all the boats in the area. It bristled with antennas and was fitted out with the latest equipment.

He took out his binoculars and swept the boat’s open deck, stopping abruptly. There she was. Grace stood on the deck talking to two men. One of them appeared to be a police officer. He wore the belt, hat, and gun and had a badge of some sort on his shirt, though it was difficult to make out clearly. It almost seemed like some kind of rendezvous. He stared at them, completely puzzled.

He could see Grace clearly. She still wore the shell jacket she’d had on when she left. She held her backpack and spoke earnestly to the men. They bantered back and forth for a while.

What on earth was she up to? He scanned the boat for a name or call numbers but there weren’t any. That in itself was illegal.

Then, suddenly, it all became clear. One of the men handed Grace a small plastic bag. She opened it and stuck her finger in, then pulled it out and sucked a white powder off it, smiled, and put the bag in her pack. She took a tightly bound packet of something green and gave it to the men. They nodded and shook her hand. Then one of them helped her into a small rowboat and rowed her back to land.

Roland watched her head straight into the brush to cross the island back to where her kayak was. He put down the binoculars and stood, thinking. Unless he was completely nuts, he’d just witnessed a drug buy. He’d seen them before, on the waterfront in Halifax. There was no doubt what he’d seen. Grace had scored some serious drugs.

He could hardly believe it. For all the back and forth he and Rose shared about the women’s druggy, city friends, he’d never really believed it. It was just an excuse to spread bad rumors about them. But here was the proof. He almost felt disillusioned. He’d never feel quite the same way about Grace. She was no better than the prostitutes he spent time with who were always drugged up. In fact, once they met him, many of them took drugs right in front of him to help them through the ordeal.

But the discovery gave him something else to think about. He had something on his neighbors now. Something serious. He looked down suddenly at his camera and zoom lens and swore. He could have photographed the entire exchange and hadn’t thought of it.

Still, he knew their secret. He’d report it to Garrett, though absent proof, he knew the Mountie would do nothing. Gar would just think it was one more effort on Roland’s part to discredit his neighbors. And there was one other thing. There had been an officer involved. Roland’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to imagine the ramifications. It was hard for him. He wasn’t a deep thinker.

He was still a little disappointed about not getting to see Grace sunbathing. But all in all, it hadn’t been a completely wasted day. Not by a long shot.

He hiked back along the shore to avoid the dense spruce, rowed the dinghy back to his boat, and headed for home by the long way in order to make sure Grace didn’t see him.

It was late afternoon when he got back to the house. The phone was ringing as he entered and he picked it up. It was Rose’s doctor in Halifax.

“Mr. Cribby, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your mother passed away about two hours ago. We thought she was making real progress with her breathing, but her heart just gave out. I’m very sorry.”

Roland didn’t hear another word. He stood motionless, holding the phone to his ear, as the doctor continued with further details and apologies. None of it registered. Finally, he put the phone down not having said a single word to the caller.

It was the moment he’d been dreading for most of his life. The only person in the world who cared about him was gone. He felt a wave of loneliness surge through him. Rose might not have been anyone’s idea of good company, but she was virtually the only company he’d had throughout his forty-odd years. He knew there would never be anyone else, no matter how long he lived.

Suddenly, the house seemed deathly quiet. He’d enjoyed the quiet while Rose was away, giving respite from her constant wheezing and complaining. Now, the very walls seemed to close in on him. He walked into Rose’s room and surveyed her space, the chair where she sat, the mounds of craft supplies, several projects almost finished, only waiting for final touch-up to the painting.

He placed one slim, callused hand on a partially painted wooden lighthouse and started to cry.

42

“
T
HIS IS SO AWESOME,” SAID
Lila. She bounced up and down on the couch next to Ayesha, the first real friend she’d ever had. “We’ll have a great time. You’ll see.”

“It’s only been approved for a month,” Garrett warned. “Then they’ll do an evaluation. If anything negative comes up, it could kill the arrangement.”

“We’ll be the best-behaved girls you ever saw,” Lila said. Then she and Ayesha went outside to walk along the beach and dig for clams.

Sarah watched them through the window, then went over and kissed Garrett. “I’m not sure this has helped our situation any, Gar. Now we’ve got to work around
two
live-in companions.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” he said. “But seriously, I think this will be good for both of them. Thanks for agreeing to it. My friend in Halifax has her doubts, though. She thinks girls like Lila are often lost causes.”

“What about Kitty? Have you heard anything at all?”

He hesitated. He didn’t really want to tell her his greatest fear, that Kitty was in the hands of some truly despicable people. But she read his hesitation instantly.

“You know where she is,” she said.

“We’re pretty sure Lloyd sold her to Madame Liu.”

Her look was indescribable. “He sold her … ? What is this, the fourteenth century?”

“And then Liu sold her again to someone else. Someone we believe could be connected to or maybe even
be
the CEO of Global Resources.”

“If you know all this, why aren’t you doing something about it?” Her accusation hung in the air like morning fog.

“It’s just not that simple. We think we know where they have her, on the offshore oil rig where you picked me up after the storm. But there are two problems. First, if we get anywhere near there, they’d probably just fly her out in a helicopter. Second, the rig is outside Canadian territorial waters. Technically, I have no authority.”

She was shaking her head. “They kidnapped her for purposes of sexual slavery and you tell me there’s nothing you can do about it? I won’t accept that, Gar. Maybe she’s outside Canadian territory now, but she was kidnapped on Canadian soil. That makes it a crime under Canadian law in my book.”

He nodded. “I agree. I think we can get around the territorial issue once we have proof of what’s happened. But we don’t have proof. And if they fly her off somewhere, then we’ve just lost her again.”

“Why can’t you send in the entire goddamned Navy? Just take over the rig and have Air Force planes ready to prevent any helicopter from going anywhere.”