Innis Harbor

by Patricia Evans Cox

  “Really?” This was from the second detective, Carson, who from the look of him, would rather be in the gym. “Because I think you do.”

  “Then why don’t you just save us both some time and tell me?”

  Amir knew as it came out of her mouth that she was tanking her chances of getting out of the room before her hair turned gray, but she was tired, covered in paint, and a friendly game of déjà vu just wasn’t what she was in the mood for.

  Detective Barton tapped his pen on the table. Amir wondered after a few seconds if he was even going to speak. “There’s been an allegation of sexual assault made against you in Innis Harbor.”

  Carson leaned in, locking his gaze with Amir’s. “Again.”

  “Who said I assaulted them?”

  “Well,” Barton said with a glance at his partner. “Let’s start with the most important factor. The alleged victim is fifteen, so she’s underage.”

  “Way underage.” Carson cleared his throat. “Again.”

  Fuck. It was happening again. This would push the life she’d built since the last time over the edge of a two hundred-foot cliff. Amir sat back in her seat and rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand.

  “This is bullshit,” she said. “I can’t do this again.”

  “Here’s a newsflash, sunshine.” Carson leaned forward on his elbows and spit the words across the table. “We’re all sitting here because you can’t seem to learn to keep it in your pants or whatever your kind wants to call it. There’s a shit ton of other things I’d rather be doing today, too, so let’s stop wasting each other’s time.”

  “Look.” Barton leaned back in his chair, his belly testing the limits of the cheap, translucent buttons threatening to pop off and ricochet around the room like bullets. “I’m gonna be straight with you about this. This girl is alleging that you came into her bedroom at her parents’ home in Innis Harbor, stripped her naked, and forced yourself on her.”

  “Oh, my god.” Amir closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning and leaned back in her chair. When she felt tears burning behind her eyelids, she counted the tiles on the ceiling until she could talk. “I’ve never, never forced any woman to do anything sexual. And if you’re talking about Charlotte Clancy, she came on to me.”

  Carson slapped his hand on the table hard enough to make his notebook shudder.

  “Well, you should have told us that! That makes it completely okay to have sex with an underage girl.” He narrowed his eyes and locked them onto Amir. “Look, I don’t care whether she gave you an engraved invitation and handed you her clothes on a silver fuckin’ platter, she’s a child.”

  “I can’t do anything but tell you the truth.” Amir leaned forward in her chair. “I didn’t do this. It’s her word against mine, but I would never do that to anyone, especially a child.”

  “That’s touching.” Carson held his hand to his heart and dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve. “That really gets me right here.” He tapped his heart and glanced at his partner, who shot him back a look. Then he opened his bag and pulled out an iPad. “But maybe we should just watch the tape.”

  Loch woke to the sun streaming into her window and Skye standing by her bed, dangling a hoodie over her face.

  “Wake up, sleepy butt.”

  Skye dropped the hoodie onto Loch’s head and sat beside her, handing her a cup of steaming black coffee she’d put on the nightstand.

  “What time is it?”

  “Time for you to get your ass out of bed.” Skye stood and opened the curtains wider, filling the room with light. “Graham is at the door waiting. He only eats diner food when he gets out of the city, so he’s been talking about bacon since he woke me up at six this morning.”

  “Oh, lord. I forgot about that.” Loch traded her undershirt and boxers for a pair of faded skinny jeans and the Columbia swim team hoodie that Skye had dropped on her. “He counts every freaking calorie when he’s working, but god help anyone who gets between him and a patty melt outside of Manhattan.”

  She pulled on her boots and looked up at Skye, who was winding a hair tie around a slick of blond hair falling through her fingers. “What am I going to do if this is true?”

  Skye pulled on one of Loch’s hats and pulled her ponytail through the back of it. “Do you love her?”

  Loch nodded, biting her lip and jerking on her laces harder than necessary. “I can feel myself falling in love with her, so that makes this even worse. How could I not have seen this about her?”

  “Listen.” Skye sat on the bed beside her and pulled a tissue out of the box on the nightstand. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you. It could turn out that she’s not who you thought she was, but we don’t know that yet. And if you feel this strongly for her, you owe it to both of you to find out what’s really happening.”

  Loch and Skye looked at the door when they heard the clomp of boots hitting hardwood. Graham peered around the corner and tapped his watch.

  “Um…I know models don’t eat, but I’m planning on eating a stack of pancakes the size of my head this morning.” He raised one perfectly shaped brow. “So, let’s go.”

  The diner was busy as they pushed open the smudged glass door, but only two old ladies in the corner even bothered to look up when they came in.

  “I can see why you like it here, my little hermit.” Graham took off his sunglasses and settled into the booth farthest from the windows. “It appears no one gives a shit who you are.”

  “Yes, thank god, not a camera in sight.”

  “It is kind of refreshing,” Skye said, sliding her silverware out of the little white paper bag next to her coffee cup. “I can’t say I love being constantly referred to as the ‘fat twin.’”

  Graham lowered his menu long enough to give her a look. “Please tell me you don’t actually let that bother you.”

  Skye flashed him a wide smile and winked. “Hell no. I’m fabulous. And all this muscle means I can kick anyone’s ass in the pool.”

  They were all studying the menu as Cara came over to take their order, pen in hand. She glanced at Loch as if to ask if she’d heard, and Loch nodded.

  “Well,” Cara said. “I guess you know what’s happening.”

  “Pancakes,” Graham said. “Pancakes are happening. Then we can figure this steaming pile of shit out.”

  Cara laughed and got out her order pad, raising an eyebrow at Graham’s lengthy order. Finally, Loch and Skye told her what they wanted, and Cara took it to the window, returning in a few minutes with the coffeepot. She filled everyone’s cup and one for herself, then slid into the booth beside Loch, who introduced her to Graham and Skye.

  “So, here’s the latest.” She softly bumped Loch’s shoulder with her own. “Hamid was just in here on his way to see if he can bail her out of jail, so she should have access to her phone at some point today and be able to call you.”

  “What did they charge her with?” Graham poured the fifth packet of sugar into his cup and looked up at Cara.

  “Aggravated sexual assault.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Loch pushed her coffee cup away. “What even happened?”

  “That’s a good question. Even Hamid didn’t know. All we know is that Amir did a one-day job on the Clancys’ deck a few days ago, and now Charlotte is saying she assaulted her.”

  “Who the hell is Charlotte?” Skye looked around and lowered her voice. “Do you know her?”

  “Yeah, and she’s a piece of work. She goes to some fancy boarding school in Boston. I think she’s just back for the summer.”

  “How is Hamid?” Loch said, then remembered to explain to Skye and Graham who she was talking about. “Hamid is Amir’s older brother. He’s a great guy.”

  “He is a great guy,” Cara said. “But he’s pissed as hell. He just wants to make this all go away and he can’t.”

  “So,” Skye said, glancing over at Loch. “I hate to ask this, but I read in the media yesterday that Amir has a previous conviction for rape. I
s that true?”

  “Wait a minute,” Cara said, lowering her voice. “No one even knows about Amir’s arrest yet, where the hell did you read that?”

  “In a celebrity blog out of New York. It’s been shared over two hundred thousand times at this point. It’s everywhere by now.”

  Cara got up quickly when she heard the cook slam his hand on the bell and start to load up the plates in a precarious stack at the window.

  “Wow,” Graham said. “She really doesn’t have a clue who you are, does she?”

  “It’s a small town. No one really follows celebrity news like they do in the city,” Loch said quietly. “And that’s my favorite part of it.”

  Cara came back and handed out the plates, making sure everyone had what they needed before she sat back down.

  “I had no idea anyone even knew about that beyond her family,” she said. “Why the hell does someone in New York City care what’s happening in Innis Harbor?”

  Graham held up his iPhone with one hand and poured a lake of syrup across his plate with the other. Cara took it and scrolled through the images, one by one, until she finally looked up at Loch. “Holy shit, is that you and Taylor Swift?” She looked closer at the picture of Loch and Taylor from an awards show the previous year. “You’re an actress?”

  “No,” Loch said, pushing her plate away. “I’m a model.”

  “Okay.” Cara handed the phone back to Graham. “Now this is starting to make sense.”

  All three of them looked up at her, even Graham, although he did continue to stuff his face with pancake as he listened.

  “The other day, this guy came in with the biggest camera I’ve ever seen and asked about Loch.”

  “What did you say?” Skye asked, stealing a piece of bacon off the edge of Graham’s plate since she’d already eaten her own.

  “I said you came by for coffee every once in a while, so he waited here all damn day. He asked where you lived, and I told him to fuck off.” She flashed an angelic smile. “Nicely, of course.”

  “That’s how they got that pic of you and Amir in the diner window.”

  Skye met Loch’s gaze and pushed her plate back toward her with a pointed look.

  “I’m sorry, girl,” Cara said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Loch shook her head. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. They always find me anyway.”

  The door opened, and Amir’s foreman Chris walked in wearing paint-splattered clothes, heading for their table when he saw Cara.

  “Hey,” he said. “Have you seen Amir? There was a group of guys up at Loch’s house with cameras just now, and Amir hasn’t shown up yet. I’ve worked for her for the last nine years, and she’s never even been late.”

  “Holy shit, are you talking about Loch’s aunt’s house?” Graham said. “What did you tell them?”

  Chris looked confused. “What, the dumbasses with the cameras?”

  Cara laughed. “Yeah, them.”

  “Well, the house is empty because we’re repainting, so I opened the front door and asked them if it looked like anyone lived there, then told them to get the fuck off the property.”

  Graham put down his bacon and stared at Chris. “I know you’re straight, but, Christ, that’s sexy.”

  Skye shot him a look.

  “No offense, of course,” Graham added, trying his best not to smile.

  “None taken.” Chris winked in his direction. “Best compliment I’ve gotten in a while, actually.”

  “Do you think they believed you?” Loch asked.

  “Yeah, the place looks deserted, and there’s no visible furniture or cars parked outside, only the work trucks, so they left.” Chris looked at Loch and Cara, but no one spoke. “Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Cara reached over and dragged a chair from one of the tables. “Have a seat. This may take a while.”

  Amir watched the black and white video start playing and leaned in to read the date on what looked like security footage.

  “Is this the day I was there to fix the step on his back patio?”

  “So, you’re admitting to being in the Clancy home on June 1, 2019?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Amir said. “Mr. Clancy is a real estate agent, so he and my dad have worked together on a few houses they’ve bought and flipped over the years. Our families know each other. He asked me to come fix a broken step on his back patio.” She looked closer at the images on the screen. “Is this footage from their home security system?”

  They didn’t answer, so Amir kept her gaze on the screen and watched herself come into the house and start setting up for the job. She’d brought in her tools from the truck, taken a look at the back step, then stopped to read a note left for her on the kitchen counter.

  “What were you doing right there?” Barton asked, popping the top on a Dr. Pepper someone had just handed him through the door. Foam bubbled up and threatened to spill over the edge of the can, and Carson shot him a look, finger poised over the pause button.

  “You ready now, Detective?”

  Barton nodded, and they watched Amir turn the note over and read it again, then start up the stairs.

  “What did the note say?”

  “It asked me to take a look at the bathroom faucet in his daughter’s room.”

  He looked back at the tape and pointed to Amir on the stairs. “Then why didn’t you go up there with any tools?”

  “Because I hadn’t even seen what the problem was.” Amir tried to ignore the feeling of being swallowed by slow-moving quicksand. “I didn’t know what I’d need.”

  She shook her head as she watched herself walk down the hall and enter Charlotte’s bedroom. Detective Barton stopped the tape. “Do you want to tell us what happened after you went in, or should I just press play?”

  “Nothing happened,” Amir said. “Before I even got to the bathroom, Charlotte came out of the bathroom in a towel, so I apologized and started to leave.”

  “Funny,” Carson said, turning his pen through his fingers. “Because this footage shows that you definitely didn’t come right back out. In fact, you didn’t come back out that door for twelve minutes and seven seconds.”

  “She said to just go ahead since I was there, so I went in to take a quick look while she was in her walk-in closet.” Amir rubbed her temples slowly, listening to the noise in the hall outside. “In hindsight, I should have just left.”

  “Well, that’s the understatement of the year because Charlotte says you locked the door and assaulted her on the bed.”

  “You gotta be kidding me! What she did was come into the bathroom, drop her towel, and ask if I wanted to touch her. I said no, but she was between me and the damn door. I couldn’t leave.”

  “What else happened?” Barton asked with a glance at Carson.

  “She tried to kiss me, but I kept telling her no. I eventually got past her and left.”

  Carson pulled a folder from the stack in front of him and pulled out a glossy photo the size of a sheet of paper. “Then how the hell did this happen to Charlotte?”

  Loch pushed through the glass double doors of the Bar Harbor police station and saw Hamid sitting in one of the white plastic chairs that lined the waiting area, staring into the silent TV in the corner. She sank down in one of the chairs next to him, and he pulled her into a hug.

  “How are you holding up? I know this has to be stressful for you.” He looked like he’d been there all night.

  “I’m okay, but I’m sure it’s worse for you. Any news?”

  “She was arraigned early this morning, and I’m just waiting to be able to post bail for her. It’s taking forever.”

  “I need to ask you something.” Loch felt suddenly as if she was about to cry and pulled at a thread on the cuff of her hoodie until she could go on. “Does Amir have a previous conviction for rape?”

  Hamid sighed and sank back in his chair, rubbing the deep lines in his forehead with the heel of his hand.


  “She does. And she should have told you.” He looked over at her and saw the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Loch.”

  Loch shook her head, staring at the half-full coffeemaker in the corner until she felt steady enough to speak. “What were the circumstances?”

  “She should really tell you herself,” Hamid said. “But it was a long time ago.”

  “This is so surreal,” Loch said, her world fading into black and white around her. She watched the last shards of colors shatter at her feet before she heard herself speak again. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

  She put her sunglasses on and walked back out the doors, fading slowly into the glare of the sun.

  It was two weeks before Amir stopped leaving messages on Loch’s phone. Four weeks before her mother spoke to her again. And six weeks before Amir felt the stares of everyone in town start to wane. Most of her crew had never come back to work; Chris was the only one who stayed on, which allowed her to complete the projects she had contracts for, but calls for additional jobs had slowed to less than half her usual number of projects. The trial was set to start in another week, so she’d told herself maybe that was better anyway. She’d tried to bring it up one day as she and Chris were setting up for a painting job, but Chris had cut her off before she got her sentence out.

  “Look, boss, I don’t care what everyone in town is flapping their gums about. I don’t believe that shit for a second. You and I have been working together for nine years, and I ain’t stopping now.”

  “But I just wanted to explain—”

  Chris tossed her a paintbrush and pulled his cap down over his head. “Nothing to explain.” He flashed her a smile and switched the radio to country music. “Now shut up and paint.”

  Now Amir was starting her last job before the trial, and as she got out of her truck, the midsummer sun shimmered off the water just past the docks, and tourists lined the sidewalks. Her truck door slammed shut, and for the hundredth time, she wished she could stop into the café for coffee. She’d tried once, weeks earlier, but as she’d walked in, the conversations at the tables had suddenly stilled, and she waited at the counter for her coffee in near silence, trying not to notice the icy stares following her as she left.