“Wait. We do need to talk.”
Roland nodded. “Good. Let’s walk to the end of the dock. I’m expecting a delivery.”
The two sat with their feet dangling over the water. There was still enough chill in the air to put goosebumps on Adele’s arms. If Roland was cold, he didn’t show it.
“What delivery?” Adele asked.
“It’s a surprise. A big one.”
“You sound excited.”
“I am. It’s been a long time coming, but today is the day.”
“Does it have anything to do with New York?”
“No. Well, sort of. Who told you about the purpose of my trip?”
Adele stared at the watery reflection of Roland and her sitting together. “Tilda heard something through the financial grapevine.”
“And you’re upset I didn’t tell you first?”
“Is it true? Are you selling the bank?”
Roland didn’t answer right away. From somewhere in the distance an unseen ship blasted its horn. “It’s looking that way,” he finally said. “We hammered out most of the details at the meeting in New York.”
“Why? Why give up something that’s so tied to your family’s history and the history of these islands?”
“I’m tired, Adele. I know that probably sounds like the comment of a spoiled rich kid, but it’s true. I’ve been working nonstop for a long time to make something bigger and better of myself. To outgrow my family’s shadow. Over the years, I’ve lost thousands and thousands of hours analyzing data, numbers, and financial statements. All that time sitting at a desk in front of a computer monitor cooped up in my office. Recently I decided I was done with all that. None of us really know how long we have. We’re all living and dying in our own personal versions of hospice care. I don’t want to waste any more time trying to prove anything. I don’t want to waste any more time period. I’ve done it. I grew the business. I nearly lost it to the Russians. Then I put it back on solid financial footing, and now the time feels right to step away and do something else. Owning that bank isn’t who I am. It never was. I won’t ever be happy pretending that it is.”
“Do you understand why I’m upset that you didn’t tell me any of this before?”
“Sure. I do now. And I also admit that I shouldn’t need you to have to remind me. I apologize. I get it. You run the local newspaper. This is a big story and you don’t want to see it scooped by a Bellingham or Seattle news source. That said, I didn’t want anyone to know about it until I was sure it was going to happen. Now I’m sure and now you know. If you want to run a story on it, you have my blessing. I’ll even give you an interview if that’ll help you to forgive me.”
“I’m not just talking about the sale of the bank, Roland. You never told me anything about you being so tired and wanting to do something else. I thought by now we were close enough to have those kinds of conversations. Sometimes getting to the truth with you is like pulling teeth.”
Roland put his arm around Adele and squeezed her shoulders. “I know. I’ll work on that. I plan to work on a lot of things. You’ll see.”
“You’ve always been such a strong advocate for maintaining local control of the islands. A lot of people around here are going to be upset seeing your family’s legacy gobbled up by some big bank conglomerate.”
“The world keeps spinning. Time moves on. They’ll get over it.”
“You sure about that?”
Roland shrugged. “They will or they won’t. Either way I don’t care. I don’t owe them my destiny and I damn sure don’t owe them my happiness.”
“The purchase price—it must be a lot of money.”
“It is a lot of money. Likely more money than my grandfather would have ever thought possible the day he took his first deposit. It’s the kind of money I can do a lot of good with.”
Adele turned her head to look up at the construction site behind the resort. “You mean like the new home you’re building on the top of the hill?”
“Fact is that home is partly the reason I’m selling the business. I paid extra for the lot to keep the transaction quiet and the construction costs are already close to 30% over budget. It’s getting obscene. If I’m not careful everyone is going to start calling it Roland’s folly.”
“You’re hurting for money? I thought you said the bank was back on strong financial footing?”
“It is—which makes it a very good time to sell.”
The same horn blast from earlier repeated itself but this time sounded closer. “Let’s go have a look at the house,” Roland said. He stood and then helped Adele up. “Do you have time?”
Adele nodded. “Sure.”
When they walked past the hotel Adele knew Tilda was somewhere inside watching them. “You-know-who isn’t too happy about your new house,” she said.
“Tilda Ashland isn’t too happy about a lot of things.”
“You don’t worry about making an enemy of her?”
“She’ll come around.” Roland looked down at Adele and grinned. “They always do.”
The construction crew had already left. Roland took Adele by the hand, walked her up to the unfinished top floor, and pointed to a floor-to-ceiling opening in the wall. “That space there is for a custom-designed window I’m having imported all the way from London. It’s the same craftsman who does glass repairs for the properties of the Royal Family, including Buckingham Palace.”
“All that for a window?” Adele said.
“It deserves nothing less. Come here and check out the view. It’s why I bought the property. Be careful though. Don’t get too close to the edge. It’s a long way down.”
Adele could see the rooftop of Tilda’s hotel, the marina docks, all the boats both great and small, including her own, and beyond that the deep waters of Spieden Channel and the brown-scarred northern tip of Spieden Island. A pair of bald eagles soared overhead not more than a hundred yards from where Adele stood.
It was all undeniably beautiful.
“See what I mean?”
“It’s something, Roland. It really is. When do you think you’ll be moving in?”
Roland grimaced. “Not soon enough. I’m really hoping before the end of the summer, but with all the delays already who knows? I have a contingency plan though.”
“What’s that?”
The same horn Adele had heard twice before sounded for a third time. Roland, his eyes gleaming, pointed through the opening in the wall.
“There she is.”
Adele leaned forward and blinked several times, not believing what she saw. A glistening white Burger yacht slowly made its way into the harbor. “That’s your boat,” she exclaimed. “The one that burned down. How’s that possible?”
“Not quite the same. The one coming into the marina now was delivered here from Florida. It’s a 1957. Same builder. Same floorplan—75 feet. I won’t even tell you how much I spent having it restored to better than original condition. Thankfully the proceeds from the sale of the sailboat I purchased last year covered most of the cost. I’ll be living on it full time until the house is completed. You and me—we’re going to be dock neighbors. You’re welcome to stop by and borrow some eggs any time you want. And I wouldn’t say no to a sleepover should you be so inclined. I could cook you up those eggs in the morning. I make a mean scramble.”
“A new home. A new yacht. Selling your family business. That’s a lot of change, Roland. I don’t know if I can keep up.”
“And I haven’t even told you about the trip I’m planning.”
“Trip?”
“Yeah, that’s partly why I purchased Scaparre. That’s Italian for escape, which I thought was appropriate given how I intend to use her. I plan to take her up the Inside Passage next month and then, hopefully, by the time I get back, the construction on the house will be just about finished. Oh, and there’s one other thing. More of a favor really. You don’t have to decide now. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. Instead, take a few days to think it ove
r.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Well, I was hoping for some company on the trip. Someone I could share the experience with. What do you say?”
“Me? Oh, Roland, thank you, but I can’t just up and leave like that. I have work. The newspaper doesn’t write itself.”
Roland crossed his arms and frowned. “That’s not entirely true. Jose handles layout, the ads, most of the repeatable content like the community calendar, and the all-important web page. You could send him the content from the boat. I had an entire state room converted into an office with high speed satellite internet. I was thinking you could use the trip as a travelogue for the paper. Your readers would love it.”
Roland was right about Jose. In just a few years he had gone from delivering the paper to overseeing its day-to-day operations. It’s why Adele had made him a part owner. He worked hard, he worked well, and the paper likely wouldn’t exist without him.
“Huh. It seems you know as much about my business as I do.”
When Roland’s face took on the look of dejected Basset Hound Adele immediately felt bad. “Hey, I’m grateful that you considered including me. I’m sure it would be a wonderful trip. It’s a very nice gesture.”
Roland held his hands up in front of him. “Don’t give me an answer yet. Think it over. I’ll be around.” He smiled as he again pointed at the arriving Burger yacht. “As in I’ll literally be about a thirty-second walk from your slip.”
Once again Adele had to secretly admit to herself that she could never manage to stay mad at Roland for long. No matter how much she thought he deserved that anger, despite his secrecy and his bouts of inconsiderate selfishness, there was something warm, inviting, and intelligent that was always there just beneath his I-don’t-give-a-damn exterior. It both infuriated and fascinated her.
He’s complicated sexy. There, I said it.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Adele flinched. “What?”
Roland was still smiling. “You looked like you were thinking pretty hard about something.”
“I was.”
“Yeah? Want to tell me about it?”
“No.”
Roland chuckled. “Fair enough.”
Adele heard a noise outside and looked down. An overweight old man dressed in a dark blue track suit was shuffling along the concrete walkway.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up.
The old man looked up.
Adele felt her heart skip a fearful beat. “Oh no,” she said as she drew back from the opening.
Roland reached out and touched Adele’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s him,” Adele whispered.
“Who?”
“He’s right outside. I think he saw me.”
Adele inched forward and looked down again. The old man waved. His sausage-like fingers were covered in gold rings. “Hello again, little girl,” he gurgled. The sound of his voice made Adele feel sick. “And I see you as well, Roland. Come down here. There are matters we must discuss.”
Yuri Popov had returned to Roche Harbor.
7.
B y the time Adele and Roland reached Yuri at the bottom of the hill Tilda was already there. Adele had to jog to keep up with Roland who was nearly running toward the Vancouver mob boss.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Roland barked.
Yuri ran a hand over the thin strands of oil-slick hair that was combed back over his age-spotted scalp. “Roland-Roland-Roland,” he said in his thick Russian accent. “Is that any way to greet an old friend? Although I must admit I nearly didn’t recognize you with all of that fur on your face.”
“I’ve already called the sheriff,” Tilda declared.
Roland stood directly in front of Yuri with his fists clenched. Adele worried he was about to throw a punch at the much older man. Yuri tilted his head and smiled at her. “There is the newspaper girl with all of her remarkable stories. I never miss a new edition.” He turned toward Tilda. “You called the sheriff, yes?”
“That’s right,” Tilda answered. “He’ll be here any minute.”
Yuri nodded. “Good. It will save time. I’ll be able to speak with all of you together.”
“I asked what you’re doing here,” Roland said. “You better tell me now or I swear to God I’m going to throw you into the water and let the crabs have at you until there’s nothing left.”
Yuri laughed and then pointed at Adele. “Just like your story a couple years ago, yes? The poor young woman who was murdered and put into the crab pot near Ripple Island. How remarkable that one so young as you repeatedly finds herself in such trouble. You must truly have a nose for it.”
When Roland reached out and grabbed a handful of Yuri’s tracksuit, the Russian’s lips drew back like a dog issuing a warning to a potential intruder. “It is not wise for you to touch me like that, Mr. Soros. See?”
Yuri pointed at Adele. Roland turned and then gasped. A red laser dot marked an area directly below Adele’s chin.
“I come in peace,” Yuri said. “But I didn’t come alone. Now take your hand off me while we wait for the sheriff to arrive.”
As soon as Roland let go and stepped back the laser on Adele’s chest vanished and Yuri’s smile returned. “That is better, yes? We can all be friends again now that we understand each other.”
“Hey now, what’s all this about?”
Tilda rolled her eyes. “Mr. Kearns, I told you to stay inside the hotel.”
Fin kept walking until he stood next to Adele. “Everything okay? You all look like someone just pissed in your soup.” He stared at Yuri. “That is except for you, old timer. You’re all smiles.”
“Who is this?” Yuri said.
“I’m Fin. Who are you?”
“Fin? Like fish?”
“No, like me, Fin Kearns. And you are?”
“I have business with them not with you. Please shut up.”
“Shut up? That’s not nice and it’s no way to greet someone you just met. How about we start over? My name’s Fin. Who are you?”
Yuri nodded at Roland. “Tell this strange man who I am so he knows that when I tell someone to shut up, they shut up.”
“Tell him yourself,” Roland replied.
“Yeah,” Fin said, grinning. “Now go on. Tell me yourself.”
Yuri’s mouth moved like he was trying to grind his molars into dust. “I am Yuri Popov and I am not someone you would wish to make angry. So, I will tell you again to shut up.”
Fin wagged his finger. “You forgot to say please.”
Adele pulled him behind her. “He’s a mob boss,” she whispered into his ear.
Fin’s eyes got big as he put a hand on each cheek which made him look like he was trying out for a Home Alone reboot. “Oh nooooo!” Then he started laughing. “I know all about Yuri Popov. I read about him in your articles. And now here he is in the flesh. And boy oh boy is there a lot of flesh.”
“I asked you to shut up,” Yuri snarled. “I asked you nice. And yet you talk, and you talk, and you talk.”
Adele took note of two things at that moment. The first was that, despite his age and poor health, Yuri Popov could still pull a weapon on someone quicker than most. The second was how Fin didn’t appear bothered by having a gun pointed at his face. Then she noted something else; the laser dot was on her chest again.
Roland stepped between Yuri and Fin. “Everyone calm down. Yuri, you need to put that away or Sheriff Pine is going to haul your ass off as soon as he gets here. Is that what you want?”
“I am not afraid of your island sheriff. Let him come. I am tired of waiting. And he will wish to know what I have to say. All of you will.”
Roland put his hand on Yuri’s gun and gently pushed it down. “I don’t think you want the first thing Lucas sees when he arrives to be you threatening someone. He’s taken out one of your men before. I have no doubt he’d do the same to you.”
“There you are,” a female voice cried out.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
All heads turned toward Marianne Rocha as she somehow managed to maintain her balance while scampering across the paved parking lot in her heels.
“Crap,” Roland murmured.
Yuri licked his lips. “Oh, very pretty lady, Mr. Soros. She is yours?”
“No, she’s not mine. She’s . . . I don’t really know what she is.”
Marianne called out again as she frantically waved like a lost child being reunited with their parents. “Roland, it’s me.”
“What are you doing here?” Roland asked.
“I travel all the way from Seattle and that’s the greeting I get? Come on. Let me have a hug.”
The awkward hug turned into an even more awkward kiss as Marianne took Roland’s face and drew him toward her. When he pushed her away, it looked like she might slap him. Then she smiled, pulled her sweater down tight, stuck out her chest, and shook her head.
“Stop being so shy. We’re all adults here.”
Roland was caught shooting a glance at Adele. “Hey,” Marianne hissed. “I’m talking to you. Me. Not her. Isn’t there someplace we can go to be alone?”
“Marianne, this isn’t a good time. You should have let me know you were coming.”
“Let you know? You don’t think I tried? You wouldn’t return my texts, my calls. I was worried, Roland.”
“I’ve been busy, and I don’t have time to talk right now. Perhaps tomorrow?”
“Busy with who?” she said, pointing at Adele. “With her? Why does it always have to be about her, Roland? I’m sick of it. There are plenty of men I know who would die to have my attention.”
Yuri’s laugh was like thick mucus dripping down a hot radiator. “Oh, what do we have here? The kitties will fight, yes? And such attractive kitties they are.”
Marianne’s head snapped toward Yuri. “Wait, I know who you are—Yuri Popov, the Vancouver crime boss. I did an expose’ on you and your associates last summer.” She looked around at all the faces staring back at her. “What’s going on here?”
“I am sorry.” Yuri shrugged. “I did not see your report. Like Mr. Soros today, I was busy then. Also, I do not watch much television. I prefer to read. Like Ms. Plank’s newspaper on the computer. I read that all the time. It is very good. You should read it. It manages to be informative yet entertaining. Not at all like the regular news.”
Roche Harbor Rogue Page 5