Roche Harbor Rogue

by D. W. Ulsterman

  “Well, that didn’t take long,” Adele said.

  “Seventies party music for the win,” Tilda added.

  When Roland took a joyous Ophelia by the hand and carefully twirled her around in circles, Adele covered her mouth and shook her head. It was one of the most beautiful things she had witnessed in quite some time. After Roland started to shout the song’s refrain as he clapped and cheered and was then joined by Ophelia doing the same with even more gusto it made Adele so happy she nearly cried.

  Tilda was still grinning. “You know, sometimes life really is good.”

  Yes, it was—especially when living it in the San Juan Islands.

  36.

  A nother meeting of what Fin had earlier jokingly referred to as the Roche Harbor Round Table was underway inside of Tilda’s private residence. Roland sat with Ophelia holding her hand. Lucas, Tilda, Sandra Penny, and Adele were there as well.

  “If you really think you can get it done, I think it’s a great idea,” Adele said.

  Tilda refilled her wine glass. “We’ll get it done. I’ve already received verbal commitment for the initial $5 million payment to Roland, half of which I’m putting up myself using the hotel as collateral.”

  Adele looked at Roland. “You’re really on board with this? Five million dollars is a far cry from the $87 million you were going to get from the bank sale.”

  “Thanks to Agent Eaton and his meddling that $87 million is gone,” Roland replied. “Yet even though the money coming to me is less it’s a better deal for the community. So yes, I’m fine with it.”

  “Roland will also maintain majority interest and CEO status,” Tilda added. “And with people and businesses on the islands now having the ability to personally invest in private equity shares of the bank, they’ll remain loyal customers and partners even if a big box bank makes its way here. It’s a win-win-win.”

  Ophelia nudged Roland. “It’s good business and that’s something your grandfather always approved of.”

  Sandra cleared her throat. “I just want to say thank you again to everyone here for putting their trust in me. I’m so honored to be given the opportunity to be the president of the new Soros Island Community Bank. I also want to apologize to you, Adele. I didn’t mean to scare you like I did. I panicked and acted stupidly.”

  “Apology already accepted, Sandra,” Adele said. “I know you’ll do a great job. You’ve already been the face of the bank for quite some time. Roland is lucky to have you running things. We all are.”

  Roland raised his whiskey glass. “Here-here.”

  “How long to finalize the deal?” Lucas asked.

  “Not long,” Tilda answered. “A few months. We’ll start with the initial $5 million in shares and then go from there. The reaction from local investors has been overwhelmingly positive.”

  “It’s a brilliant idea,” Roland said. “We keep the Soros name on the building, Sandra continues to run the business like only she knows how, and I continue to pursue my interest in giving back to the islands. Tilda had it right. It’s win-win-win.” He leaned forward to look at Tilda. “Are you sure you want to leverage your hotel though? You’ve been debt-free for a very long time.”

  Tilda tilted her head upward. “It’s not debt but an investment —one that includes a joint venture between you and I and your Roche Harbor development plan.”

  Roland’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  Everyone laughed.

  A short time later, Adele watched from the hotel’s balcony as Roland walked with Ophelia to his yacht. He was going to give her a ride back to Shaw Island on his dinghy.

  “Neither of them looks like they want to let the other one go,” Lucas said as he came up to Adele and stood beside her. “Quite a thing to find out something like that—a grandmother you never knew you had. He seems to be processing it all well enough. And opening his bank up to local investors? That’s really something. I guess there’s a lot more to Roland than I gave him credit for.”

  “Funny,” Adele said, smiling. “I bet he’d say the exact same thing about you.”

  “Yeah, I suppose he would. We’re all getting older, aren’t we? More responsible, respectful, and understanding.”

  “Any news on the Vasa situation?”

  Lucas grunted. “I didn’t want to bring it up during the meeting and spoil all the good news. Agent Eaton shared something with me the other day.”

  “What is it?”

  “Eaton is positive that Liya Vasa is coming for us. He wouldn’t tell me how he knows, but I don’t think he was lying. He assured me the feds will do all they can to keep her away from here but also admitted there’s no way to guarantee our safety. If Liya intends to return to the islands, she’ll most likely find a way.”

  “And did he say anything about Marianne Rocha’s death being connected to the Russians?”

  “No, but my Interpol contact did. Apparently, there was some chatter about it in Moscow, which means Liya’s father Vlad was aware of it. That doesn’t necessarily mean he was directly involved.”

  “And it doesn’t mean he wasn’t.”

  Lucas nodded. “Right.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “We stay vigilant. We wait. And we go on living our lives.” Lucas put his hand on Adele’s shoulder. “I have to get back to Friday Harbor and start reviewing applications.”

  “Applications? For what?”

  “The county council finally gave me funding for a third deputy. I’m hoping to start interviewing candidates next week.”

  “That’s some good news.”

  “Got that right. It’ll sure be nice to have the help. Anyways, you take care, Adele.”

  “You too, Sheriff Pine.”

  After Lucas left Tilda took his place next to Adele and they both watched Roland carefully helping Ophelia to step down into the dinghy. “I don’t recall ever seeing Roland as happy as he was today,” Tilda said. “You did that you know. You brought them together and in doing so made two fractured people whole again.”

  Adele knew Tilda was right about Roland’s happiness but wasn’t comfortable taking all the credit. “I just helped them to know the truth about each other.”

  “Don’t undersell truth. It’s a powerfully important thing.”

  Tilda pointed at Roland and Ophelia as they headed out of Roche Harbor on the dinghy with their arms still around each other. “You see them together like that? Both are far stronger now because of the truth you gave to them.”

  Adele was reminded of Bloodbone’s earlier comments to Ophelia prior to their meeting with Roland:

  …Charles Soros, Delroy Hicks, Edmund Pine, they are no longer alive to do the difficult but necessary work of keeping our islands safe. The barbarians are at the gate and so it is the responsibility of another generation to prepare for the war that’s coming… I have watched our islands weather many storms, but this next one might well be the worst yet. We need to be united—all of us. If Adele is taking you to Roland so that he might finally know the true history that exists between you then well done. You’re doing your part to help make him stronger.

  Adele also felt a pang of yearning watching Roland shower his grandmother with so much affection. It was another side to him she had suspected was there but until now hadn’t really seen. He had an obvious devotion to family that made him that much more attractive to her.

  “So, are you really ready to be in business with Roland?”

  Tilda smiled as she swirled the last bit of wine in her glass. “He was going to try to change Roche regardless. This way I have a say in the matter. His intentions were noble. Now I can provide him the good conscience to go with that intent.”

  “Still, that’s a lot of change coming your way and Roland can be a handful sometimes.”

  “My life had become far too small, Adele. I was retreating further and further behind the walls of this hotel. I’m done with that. Roche Harbor is my home. I intend to keep this place right for
future generations and am now confident Roland is the one to help me to do that. I value your ability to judge good character and don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve been judging Roland Soros since you first stepped onto our islands. If he’s good enough for you he’s good enough for me.”

  Adele felt her cheeks flush. “See?” Tilda said. “Every year that passes your feelings for him go deeper and deeper. If Roland wasn’t a good man that wouldn’t be the case. I welcome the chance to work with him. Who knows? Perhaps someday in the not-too-distant future I’ll watch your children playing in the resort gardens below or see them learning to drive a boat in the harbor.”

  “Children? With Roland? I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

  Tilda shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. The winds of time are always at our backs, relentlessly pushing us forward into the waiting beyond. The difference between now and then can feel like the blink of an eye.”

  “If kids do come along someday, I’ll be sure to have them call you Grandma Tilda.” Adele thought that would make Tilda bristle, but instead she smiled and nodded.

  “Grandma Tilda? You know what? I think I might like that.”

  The afternoon sun fell across the hotel balcony. Adele closed her eyes and welcomed the warmth on her face. A breeze carried the scent of newborn spring. A few boats from the north were entering the marina. In the coming weeks there would be dozens more arriving until every slip was filled and the docks overflowed with busy summer activity.

  “You have plans for the evening?”

  Adele nodded. “I have a column to write. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time yet, so now it’s down to the wire. What about you?”

  “Oh, I’m feeling a little tired. I’ll probably go to bed early but if Roland and you want to stop by later for a nightcap just let me know. I can make a fire. Might be the last one until the fall.”

  “I’m not sure if he’s staying over at the convent on Shaw with Ophelia, but I could come by later if you want.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You focus on your work. I’ll likely be asleep by the time you’re done anyways. We can get together tomorrow.” Tilda looked out at the water. “Did you know Charles Soros, Edmund Pine, and Delroy Hicks used to regularly stand here on this balcony to discuss the news of the day?”

  “No, you never told me that before.”

  “Well, they did. Those three were such impressively interesting men in their own unique ways. Charles could be a bit reticent, sometimes even brooding, until he had his second drink in him and then his mood would lighten, and he’d be laughing at all the jokes Delroy would tell. Edmund was most often the bridge between those two. He was kind, quiet, and thoughtful—every inch of him representative of the family doctor he was so proud to be. As for Delroy, he was the same then as when you knew him at the end of his life. Everything was interesting and new and worthy of being enjoyed to the fullest. They were all so strong, so determined, so full of life.

  “Charles was the oldest and the first to pass. Delroy and Edmund continued to come here even as Edmund’s dementia took its terrible toll. It seemed no matter how bad a day he was having his old friend Delroy could temporarily lift that burden and help him to recall better days. And then Delroy was gone as well and Edmund was permanently buried under the haze of Alzheimer’s until he too left us for good.

  “The absence of those three . . . I used to wonder if a place like this could ever recover from such a loss. And then Roland took over his grandfather’s business, Lucas returned to the islands to become our new sheriff, and of course there is your arrival as well. I can’t help but now feel that the balance has been restored.”

  “I won’t speak for Roland or Lucas, but I don’t think I’m comfortable being compared to Charles Soros, Edmund Pine, or Delroy Hicks. I still have a lot more growing to do.”

  Tilda arched a brow. “Don’t we all? What’s your column going to be about?”

  “So much has happened this week I’m not really sure how to go about putting it all down in a way that’ll make sense to the reader. I want to mention the visit from Fin, the time on Orcas, and some of what we learned about Bloodbone while still maintaining his privacy.”

  “Nothing about the new bank deal?”

  “Right, and now there’s that as well. It’s going to be a long night of work at the keyboard.” Adele felt her phone vibrate. It was a text from Roland.

  Pulling into Shaw now. Ophelia is going to make us dinner. Wanted you to know how grateful I am for bringing us together in a way we weren’t before. I have family! See you tomorrow when I get back to Roche. YOU. ARE. AMAZING. -Roland

  “Judging by the smile in your eyes I’m guessing it’s good news,” Tilda said.

  Adele read the message a second time, felt that now familiar yearning to be with Roland again, put the phone away, and looked up. “Yeah.”

  It was time to get to work.

  37.

  The Island Gazette

  Ravens, and Crystals, and Bank Deals, Oh My!

  by Adele Plank

  In the last issue I promised readers some answers regarding the legend of Karl Bloodbone and the alleged powers of Orcas Island crystals. So, will I be making good on that promise in this issue of The Island Gazette?

  Yes and no.

  I did meet an older gentleman who goes by the name Karl Bloodbone. I also met Mr. Bloodbone’s pet raven, George. If you think that’s an odd combination, you’d be right, but then again these are the San Juan Islands where what normally passes for unusual isn’t really so unusual at all.

  As to how old this current version of Karl Bloodbone may or may not be remains left to speculation. What I am more certain of is his kindness, patience, and consideration. At first glance he’s an intimidating sort, all deep edges and rough angles, and there is unquestionably a great deal of wisdom and life experience residing within those dark eyes of his. Like all of us who choose to live here, he has a very deep love for the islands and wants to see them nurtured and protected.

  Ah, but what of those Orcas Island crystals? Are they the key to good health and long life? Some think so. Others dismiss such belief as misguided or even desperate. The truth is most likely found somewhere in the middle. There is an undeniable mystical-magical quality to Orcas with its fog-drenched peaks and rocky-green valleys. The earth there does talk, though what the true nature of that conversation is remains a mystery—at least to me. I’ve held some of those genuine Orcas crystals, felt their odd mix of cool warmth, and watched the light dance upon the hard surface of their multi-colored skin. After doing so did I feel healthier? Stronger? More clear-headed?

  Not really.

  That’s not to say there isn’t some truth regarding the power of those crystals, but perhaps that truth originates from a simple act of faith—that if you believe long enough and hard enough, the impossible can be made possible.

  Who knows?

  I am blessed to have met Karl Bloodbone and doubly blessed that I can now call him friend. If some choose to believe he was somehow around to give advice and guidance to men like Robert Moran and John McMillin more than a century ago, well, that’s their prerogative. That isn’t nearly so important as having Karl alive and well in the here and now. What is far more certain regarding the health and well-being of people here on the San Juan Islands is that we do, in fact, live longer and healthier lives than those in most any other place in the world. Why that is might not be anything more complicated or extraordinary than it is a place people love to be and that love then requires them to take better care of themselves to help ensure they continue to be a part of this place for as long as possible. I know that’s my own plan and I’m certain I’m not the only one.

  In other news we have not a pending bank sale but rather a pending bank transformation. The Soros Bank has long been a fixture of our island community, established by arguably the single most important architect of the region’s modern era, Charles Soros. When Charles passed away, full own
ership was transferred to his only grandson and heir, Roland. Now Roland is giving local businesses and residents the opportunity to personally invest in the bank that has already invested so much in them, an effort that will transform the Soros Bank into an even greater community endeavor that will, in turn, further help to maintain local control of our islands.

  Longtime Roche Harbor Hotel owner Tilda Ashland is spearheading the effort with the capable assistance of newly promoted Soros Bank president Sandra Penny. Roland Soros will remain on as majority shareholder and CEO. Initial interest from local investors is said to be considerable so if you want to get in on this opportunity you best do so now as the available private equity shares are limited. Please contact Sandra Penny at the Friday Harbor branch for more information.

  Finally, as spring arrives at long last to shrug off winter’s dark coat, I am reminded of some lines from Dublin poet James Stephens and his ode to the coming season and would like to dedicate it to another new friend who will hopefully read this back in Ireland.

  We all miss you, Fin, are hopeful for your return, and very sorry for the loss of your mother.

  Go, Winter, now unto your own abode,

  Your time is done, and Spring is conqueror

  Lift up with all your gear and take your road,

  For she is here and brings the sun with her:

  Now are we resurrected, now are we,

  Who lay so long beneath an icy hand,

  New-risen into life and liberty,

  Because the Spring is come into our land.

  38.

  “Y ou’re dead. It happened the moment you murdered Vlad. You just didn’t know it yet. So, tell me. Was it worth it? Or do you wish it was you who died at the bottom of the cliffs of Rosario and not my brother? At least then your friends might still be alive. Roland, Lucas, Tilda . . . they’re all gone now. Would you have sacrificed yourself so that they might live? Are you truly as noble as you are pretty? No, you don’t fool me, little girl. In the end you’re a coward like all the others who stupidly chose to cross my family. Others like the annoying Seattle newswoman who dared poke her nose in places she had no business doing so. Yes, she is gone, too, because it is what I wanted, and I always get what I want. And do you know what it is I want right now, Adele Plank? To watch the life leave your eyes. I want to see the blood pumping out of your body. I want to hear that last final death rattle wheezing from your lungs.