Chapter Twenty-Four
(Wednesday, Late Morning—Owen)
The Hermit had scowled horribly at the prospect of four houseguests aboard the Nameless, but nevertheless invited them all aboard. Shadow, of course, had been wriggling with excitement since the Hermit’s boat had come into view, and jumped aboard so quickly he’d almost fallen in the water. Not that the dog would worry about that. He’d just expect the Hermit to rescue him.
In spite of the dog’s continued traitorous behavior, Owen enjoyed watching Martina’s reactions as they drew up to the seemingly trashed houseboat, were greeted (if that was the word) by the Hermit, gray of hair and beard and wearing his usual tie-died T-shirt, and invited into the clean and well-kept interior of his home.
The Hermit caught Owen at it and turned to glower at Martina. “Not as bad as you thought it would be, is it?”
She smiled at him. “Teak and holly and brass, expensive china inside…old trash and junk piled outside…I think it’s exactly the way you want it to be.”
“Hell,” he said, grimacing at her. “It’s home.”
“That was a smile,” Owen put in helpfully.
The Hermit transferred his glower back to Owen.
“Well, she might not have recognized it,” Owen pointed out.
“So, boy,” the Hermit said, his brows still gathered together. “What have you brought me?”
“Trouble,” Owen said, glaring back at him. “And lots of it.”
“Well, you brought it to the right place then, didn’t you?” They held their expressions for a moment longer, then laughed. The Hermit saw the others were staring. “He’s always been trouble,” he explained.
Owen got a beer from the well-stocked refrigerator. “Anyone else want anything? Old George here’s generous enough, he just doesn’t want to admit it. He’s rich, too, so he can afford it.”
Martina shook her head. “Looks like you two have spent way too much time together.” She and Andrea smirked at each other.
Aaron, enthralled, sidled toward the refrigerator.
“Ah,” the Hermit said, “it’s just been a little while. Look at the whelp, he’s barely out of diapers.” He accepted a beer from Owen, who was waving it at him. “Seriously, I didn’t expect to see you folks together. What’s been happening?”
“Nothing good.” Owen sobered. He’d deep-frozen most of his mind, operating until now in the few still-functional areas toward the edges. But the Hermit’s question brought up a memory of Shawna, laughing right here on the Nameless just a few weeks ago, and that melted Owen’s self-control into a morass of guilt and sorrow. God, he wanted to take his kayak out away from everybody and get some space to think. And grieve. Or at least get rid of everybody but the Hermit, who would understand if he didn’t have much to say for a while.
But this—still—wasn’t the time or place for any of that. He intercepted Aaron and gave him a Coke. Aaron took it, looking disappointed. Owen also gave Shadow a bowl of water before anybody else could do it. They probably would have given him beer, though. Shadow really liked beer.
“So tell me about it,” the Hermit said. “Here,” he said to Andrea, “help me pull up a couple of chairs and we can all sit at the table.”
Owen started with what had happened to Shawna. The Hermit grunted, looking troubled and suddenly closer to his real age—whatever that might be—but waved irritably for Owen to keep talking. That led to his interaction with Gordon, and the night he’d found Leon. Owen filled in his encounter with Viktor, his visit to CyberLook, and the gist of the conversation with Johnny Opiela. It became clear the Hermit already knew about Andrea’s and Aaron’s dual natures. It didn’t surprise Owen under the circumstances, but he wished somebody had told him about it earlier. Last, he brought up Carl’s eco-terrorist theory, and looked directly at Andrea.
Her eyes widened. “What?” she asked.
Owen shrugged. “I saw some Save-the-Whales stuff in your apartment and I wondered how it related to the rest of this.”
“That’s dumb,” Aaron said loudly.
Andrea nodded slowly. “I see. You thought we might be responsible for what happened to Junior and Leon?” She seemed more thoughtful than offended.
So maybe he’d been wrong. “Maybe, for a while,” Owen said. “Remember, I didn’t know you at all. I guess I can think of some reasons why you might have sympathy for whales.”
“Sympathy?” Aaron asked, grinning. “They don’t need that. Now take dolphin-free tuna, that’s one of my all-time favorite causes.” He looked thoughtful. “Hey, if I pretend I’m offended because you’re asking about this, will you let me get a beer?”
Andrea smiled at him, then turned back to Owen. “I just wanted to know more about, well, people. So I looked into an environmental group I thought I might understand a couple of years ago,” she said. “I got on their mailing list, and they’ve never let me go.”
“So there’s no connection?” Owen asked. “Are you involved with any other groups?”
“It would be really useful,” Martina put in, “if you had a connection there. Junior was apparently a target to some degree. If you know anything at all, it might be worth pursuing.”
“Sorry,” Andrea said. “I can’t think of anything. Like I said, I didn’t really get into that stuff.”
Martina nodded. “So what we’ve got is at least three murders, a strong effort to frame Owen for all of them, FBI involvement, and probably government influence at CyberLook. Probably the FBI is tied into whatever’s going on there.”
“I don’t know,” Owen said. “The police this morning were talking about a kidnapped girl, and the FBI might be involved because of her. But that’s all I know. Aaron came, and the cops left, right after they mentioned it.”
Martina’s chin came up. She blinked. “Kidnapped girl? I saw something on TV about a girl who disappeared just outside Police Headquarters downtown this weekend. I wonder if that’s who they were talking about?”
“If so,” Owen said, “it’s really odd that it’s connected to the rest of this. It’s almost as if there are several things going on independently, but that’s not a very logical assumption. They almost have to be related.” Or maybe everybody was crazy, and there was no point in worrying about any of it.
The Hermit cleared his throat. “Sounds to me as if, contrary to my standard policy regarding the police, you might need to get together with these guys and share your information.” He glanced at Andrea. “With certain reservations.”
“We need a place to do it,” Martina said. “Andrea, could we use your apartment? It’s closest to the marina. Would you mind if the police found out you were helping Shawna? We could say she stayed there.”
Where had that come from? “There’s no need for that,” Owen interrupted before Andrea could answer. At least Martina hadn’t suggested inviting the police out to the Nameless…but why endanger Andrea like that? “I’m sure Gordon and Faulkner will be able to come up with a place to meet. If we can figure out what’s safe to tell them.” He thought for a moment. “You know, we should bring Carl into this too. He may know something else by now, and even if he doesn’t he’s good at coming up with ways to get information.” He glanced at the brass marine chronometer above the table. “Maybe I should head back to land and give him a call.”
He turned to the Hermit. “It’s getting on toward lunchtime. Anything I should bring back, given the size of the crowd here?”
“We could come up with a list,” said the Hermit, “and at some point we’ll need to stock up. But, Owen me lad, it’s past time you remembered what century we’re in.” He got up from the table. “Back in just a wee bit.”
Owen turned to Aaron. “Hey, kid. Can you get me another beer? And feel free to get another Coke for yourself. I noticed yours is empty.”
Aaron sneered at him, but complied cheerfully. Andrea leaned over to Owen. “Pecking order?” she murmured.
Owen grinned at her. She was quiet, but didn’t seem to miss much. Hey�
�did all this mean he should take that Wiccan stuff seriously too? He started to ask her if it was for real or just something she liked to read about, but the Hermit returned, a small black object in his hand.
“Here you go. Modern technology.” He offered it to Owen.
Owen took it gingerly. “What kind of Hermit has a cell phone in his boat?”
“Who cares?” Aaron asked. “Just call the guy.”
“And Gordon too,” Martina said. “Maybe we can all get together somewhere.”
Owen nodded, looked at all the faces around the table staring at him, and took the phone outside.
He called Carl first, but got voicemail. He pushed some buttons, gave up, stuck his head back inside, and asked the Hermit for the phone number he was calling from. Then he redialed and left a message asking Carl to call back. He didn’t give his name. Carl would recognize the voice.
He thought for a moment, wondering how bright it was to use the Hermit’s phone for this, then shrugged and dialed Gordon’s cell.
“Gordon, CCPD.”
“We spoke briefly this morning.” Owen suddenly wanted to bite his tongue. Why had he said that? Not using his name probably wouldn’t make a difference if anyone were actually listening in. Maybe he was going a little nuts.
“Sure. You found a place?”
At least Gordon hadn’t laughed at him. “Um, yeah. Listen, I’m with some other people, and we’ve been talking about this. We were wondering if we could meet you someplace and pool information.”
Gordon was silent for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said. “Jon and I are looking into some things that might help, but right now we also have some stuff going on for another case. And I hafta say I’m not crazy about telling what I know to a whole gang of people when for all I know one or more of ‘em might be involved.”
“Oh.” Owen hadn’t thought about their working on other cases. “Sounds reasonable. I guess I should have realized you’d be busy with other things too. But about these people…I’m pretty sure they’re all okay.”
“And you’re probably right,” Gordon said. “Tell you what. Why don’t you guys talk amongst yourselves and figure out what you can. Then give me a call tomorrow morning and we can figure out a way to get together if we need to.” He paused. “Is there anything I don’t know that I need to know before then? Any new developments?”
“Not that I can think of.” Excluding stories of porpoises and sharks walking around town. Owen felt a little foolish.
“Okay. Give me a call in the morning. And listen, don’t worry about all this. Just lay low. We’re on it.”
“Thanks,” Owen said. They hung up.
Inside, Owen returned the phone to the Hermit. “I left a message for Carl, and the cops want us to talk things through ourselves and give them a call tomorrow morning.”
“So what now?” Martina asked.
“I don’t know.” Mostly he wanted to take a nap. “The way I see it, we need more information about CyberLook, the kidnapped girl, possible eco-terrorists, and whatever’s going on with the FBI. But I don’t see a good plan of attack. We’ll talk to Carl when we can and call the police tomorrow. Maybe something new will come out of that, but right now I’m out of ideas.”
“So,” the Hermit said, “let’s make lunch. And take the rest of the day off from all this.” He saw Owen staring at him. “What? You just said there’s nothing to do.” He spread his hands. “So okay, let’s give doing nothing a shot.”
Owen and Martina looked at each other. She appeared about to object, but gave up and shrugged. “He’s right,” she said. “I saw some trout in the fridge.” She looked around. “I assume everybody likes fish?”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “I’m going for a swim.”
Owen looked at him. “Ah…you have a suit?” He remembered the screams when Aaron and Andrea had changed shape in the surf the night before. He wasn’t sure he would ever want to hear them again.
Aaron grinned. “Why? You like the way I look when I don’t? I noticed you kept staring at me.” He laughed at Owen’s expression. “Yeah, the Hermit has swimsuits. Don’t worry, nothing too scary today.” He got up, patted Owen on the shoulder, and left the room. Andrea smiled at Owen, shrugged, and followed them.
Martina watched them go, a faint crease between her eyes. “You know, I really do want to see that sometime.”
Owen shuddered. “I could do without it for a while.”
Shiver on the Sky Page 38