Sleeping Alone

by Bretton, Barbara

  The captain set the tone for the trip. If he was late, how could he expect his crew to hop to when he barked out an order? You had to set an example for young people, same way you set an example for your own kids. They had to know the rules, the boundaries, what you wanted them to do and when you wanted them to do it. He treated his crew the same way he treated his own two boys, with discipline and love.

  But that didn’t mean he was going to take any crap.

  He boarded the Kestrel and looked for signs of life. The damn boat was silent as the grave.

  They’d be shoving off in less than half an hour, and there was still a lot to do before they weighed anchor.

  “To hell with the lot of you,” he muttered after a moment. He didn’t need anybody to help him pilot the Kestrel. He’d do it himself.

  * * *

  It was a little after eleven when Alex and John finally left. John helped her into the truck, and Alex fastened her seat belt. They hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with each other since the meeting ended. The images and words of his presentation lingered with her as John drove down Ocean Avenue, and she felt as if she were seeing the town’s potential for the first time. A heavy fog had rolled in off the ocean. It tumbled across the road, softening the harsher realities, making it easier for Alex to imagine Sea Gate the way it used to be.

  The way John wanted it to be again.

  There would never be a good time to tell him about the baby, same as there would never be a good time to tell him that his brother was behind Eagle Management’s plans to turn Sea Gate into a giant parking lot.

  The one thing she knew was that if she didn’t do it now while she had the nerve, she would never do it, and John deserved better than that.

  * * *

  By the time the cops arrived at Dee’s, Brian was almost foaming at the mouth.

  “Will you calm down?” Dee asked as the squad car pulled into her driveway. “They got here as fast as they could.”

  Brian was beyond rational thinking. He pushed past her as if she wasn’t even there. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like in a real emergency. “What the hell took you so goddamn long?” he demanded as Dan Corelli and a rookie climbed out of the car. “Now you don’t have a chance in hell of catching the bastard who did it.”

  “Nice talk from a hotshot lawyer,” Dan said after greeting Dee. “You wanna cool down and tell me what happened?”

  “Someone took a swing at his car,” Dee said, biting back a grin.

  “Looks like someone got a home run,” Dan observed. He glanced over at Brian. “Hope you got insurance.”

  “Of course I’ve got insurance,” Brian roared. “What the hell kind of question is that? Shouldn’t you be dusting for prints or something?”

  Big mistake, thought Dee. Dan Corelli had never liked Brian. This would really push the veteran cop over the edge. In a way she almost felt sorry for Brian. For all of his education and success, he still didn’t know the first thing about how to get along with people.

  Dan gestured for his young colleague to get something from the squad car. “All right, Gallagher,” he said, leaning against the door of the Porsche. “Why don’t you tell me how it’s done.”

  * * *

  Mark awoke with a start. The boat was listing to starboard as a wicked, wind-powered rain sluiced across the deck. He felt groggy, his brain fuzzy with sleep, but it only took a second for him to realize the Kestrel had broken free of the dock and was drifting away from the marina.

  The boat’s lights blazed, although he couldn’t remember switching them on; he wasn’t even sure he knew how. He jumped up, and his feet nearly slipped out from under him on the wet deck. Heart pounding, he tried to peer through the rain and fog. He thought he could make out some lights toward port, but he wasn’t sure. Eddie had told him a long time ago that weather could play tricks on even an experienced sailor, make him think he saw things that weren’t there.

  Could it make you hear things, too? The sound of wood splintering filled the air. The fog was so thick he couldn’t see the other side of the boat. He moved slowly across the slick wooden deck in the direction of the sound. His heart thudded at the base of his throat, in his ears, behind his eyes. A form began to take shape near the prow.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, feeling like he’d been kicked in the gut. Eddie... it was Eddie... Eddie swinging an axe in a wide glittering arc overhead... bringing that axe down into the side of the boat—

  “Eddie, stop it!” His voice rang out. “We’re taking in water.” It swirled around his ankles, lapping up toward his calves.

  Eddie brought down the axe again. It slammed into the wood with a sickening crack. Splinters exploded in every direction. One bounced off the old man’s cheek, but he barely seemed to notice. Nor did he seem to know Mark was there. He grunted as he raised the axe again. Mark tried to lunge for the handle, but Eddie dodged him. The air next to Mark whistled as Eddie swung the axe. Mark was so scared he almost peed his pants.

  “You’ve gotta stop this,” he cried out as the water reached his knees. “The Kestrel’s gonna sink, Eddie. You’re killing her!” He could hear the sound of dishes and pots crashing to the floor of the galley down below as the boat listed to starboard.

  Eddie pushed him hard, and Mark fell against the railing. “I didn’t raise my son to talk to me that way,” Eddie roared. “Bad enough Brian broke his mother’s heart. I won’t have you bringing her shame, too.”

  “I’m not John,” he cried, desperate for Eddie to recognize him. “I’m Mark, Eddie! I’m Mark!”

  Eddie looked at him with wild, drowning eyes. He raised the axe overhead, then started for Mark.

  “Jesus, Eddie, stop! I’m Mark... I’m Dee’s son, Eddie. Please don’t—” He ducked as Eddie lunged forward, slipped on the slick deck, then tumbled over the railing into the icy black water.

  Mark’s mind went blank. He called Eddie’s name, but there was no answer.

  No! He refused to believe it. Not Eddie. Not like this. There had to be a chance for him. For both of them. There had to be something he could do. Mark made the sign of the cross, then followed Eddie overboard.

  * * *

  “We need to talk,” Alex said as John swung his truck into her driveway.

  Her words didn’t surprise him. Neither did the sense of sadness that seemed to hang over the two of them, as thick and impenetrable as the fog rolling past the windshield.

  “Seems like I did nothing but talk tonight,” he said, turning off the engine. “Didn’t you hear enough of me?”

  “You were wonderful,” she said, “but that’s not what I meant. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Your roof’s leaking and you want to move back in with me.”

  Her smile was gentle and sad, and it made him want to kiss her until she forgot everything but him. “So talk,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

  “Not here.” She opened the door to the truck. “Inside.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “It is,” she said, her voice soft. “Very serious.”

  He climbed out of the truck, then went around to the passenger side and helped her down. “I’m not getting a good feeling about this, Alex. What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

  “Inside,” she repeated. She turned away, but not before he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

  He followed her to the front door and waited while she rummaged in her bag for her keys. The urge to throw her over his shoulder and head for higher ground was almost too strong for him to resist.

  He looked out toward the marina. It hardly seemed possible, but the fog had grown even thicker. A slight movement caught his eye, and he felt an answering stab of apprehension in his gut.

  “Alex.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look over there. Near slip number one.”

  “John, I—” She stopped. “It’s Bailey!”

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “I thought she was home with Pop.”

  Alex
didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. They both knew that with Eddie anything was possible these days.

  “Bailey!” His voice rang out through the drizzle and fog. “C’mere, girl!”

  They heard two barks, then the sound of her paws hitting the wet, sandy earth as she ran toward them.

  “Hey, girl!” John buried his face in the fur of her neck. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Bailey licked his hand, then turned to Alex, who kissed the top of the dog’s head. Suddenly Bailey pulled away from both of them and ran full speed toward the marina.

  “Oh, God,” Alex whispered. Her hands covered her stomach in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing. “Eddie.”

  “Stay here,” John ordered, then took off after Bailey. Bad moon rising. He couldn’t get the words to the old song out of his mind. There’s a bad moon on the rise. His old man usually didn’t start sleepwalking until three or four in the morning.

  Bailey didn’t slow down when she reached the dock. John heard her nails clicking against the wooden planks as she ran.

  “Bailey!” His voice cut through the fog. He was less than thirty feet behind the dog, but he could barely see her. There were no barriers at the end of the dock, just a drop-off. If she kept running like this, she was going to tumble straight into the water.

  At least there was no sign of his old man. Nick Di Mentri’s boat was in slip three, where it had been for the last twenty years. Vince’s garvey bobbed up and down in slip eight. Everything seemed the way it should be. Bailey skidded to a stop on the slick surface, then threw back her head and let out a bloodcurdling howl that stopped John cold.

  Slip fifteen, the last one before the end of the dock, was empty.

  The Kestrel was supposed to be in there. Eddie had claimed that spot the day he bought the boat, and he’d never relinquished it to anyone. The Kestrel should have been there right now.

  “Eddie!” The fog curved John’s voice right back at him. “Where are you, Pop?”

  The only other sound was Bailey’s keening cry.

  * * *

  If John actually believed Alex was going to stay put, he didn’t know her half as well as he thought.

  She loved Eddie almost as much as he did, and if the man was in trouble, she wanted to help. He’d opened his house to her, a total stranger, and made her feel as if she was part of a real family. It was something she would never forget. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

  “Eddie!” John’s cry pierced the fog. “Where are you, Pop?”

  The ground was slick with rain and badly rutted from the long hard winter. The fog curled around her ankles and calves, making it impossible to see where she was walking. Twice she’d barely managed to save herself from a nasty fall.

  She cupped her hands around her mouth. “John! Where are you?”

  “Go back home, Alex. Eddie took out the Kestrel. I’m going after him.”

  “No!” She broke into a run. “It’s too dangerous. Let me call the police.”

  The lip of the dock knocked her off balance, and she fell to one knee. A sharp pain knifed its way up toward her hip, but her fear outweighed her pain.

  “Please stop, John!” She scrambled to her feet and ran down the dock in the direction of his voice. “Let the police handle it.”

  He stepped out of the fog toward her and grabbed her by the forearms. “I have to do this,” he said, gripping her tightly. “I can’t lose him the way I lost Libby and the kids....”

  “But it’s not the same thing,” she protested. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  He untied Vince Troisi’s boat from its mooring and jumped in. “Take Bailey back to the house and call for help. I’m going to find Eddie.”

  He vanished into the fog before she could say another word.

  Twenty-two

  Dan Corelli was finishing up his report when the call came in.

  “Shit,” said Dan, a frown pleating his forehead. “There’s trouble at the marina.”

  That piqued the rookie’s interest. “Vandalism again?”

  “Not this time.” Dan looked from Dee to Brian. “Looks like your old man decided to take the Kestrel out in this mess.”

  “Oh, God!” Dee said. “Is he all right?”

  “Don’t know,” said Corelli. “John called for help. “

  Brian’s neutral expression twisted into a scowl. “Surprised he didn’t start swimming out to the boat to save the day.”

  “Brian.” Dee’s tone was sharp. “This is your father we’re talking about.”

  “I know who we’re talking about,” he said, not at all chastened or embarrassed. “I’d say I’m the only one who sees the situation for what it is.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dee demanded, aware of Dan Corelli’s interest. The conversation would be all around town by morning, but she didn’t care.

  “The old man’s lost it,” Brian said bluntly. “We’re not talking normal behavior here.” He listed some of Eddie’s more recent midnight rambles, a few of which Dee hadn’t been aware of.

  “Who told you about his sleepwalking?” she asked.

  “Sleepwalking?” He laughed out loud. “Is that what they’re calling it?”

  “That’s what Dr. Benino called it.”

  “Benino’s an old-timer who doesn’t know his butt from a hole in the ground. Maybe it’s time to put Eddie in a home. I offered Johnny the money, but he didn’t seem to see things my way. Too bad. I don’t offer twice.”

  She raised her hand to slap his face, but some shred of reason stopped her at the last second.

  “Smart move,” he said, his voice steely.

  “Smarter than you’ll ever know,” she shot back.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Corelli said, a half-smile on his face, “but we’re gonna have to save this for another day. We’re on our way to the marina.” He looked at Brian. Even though his expression never changed, his dislike was clearly visible. “Don’t suppose you want to come with us?”

  The telephone rang before Brian could answer. Dee crossed the room to answer it.

  “This is Mr. Carling, Mark’s science teacher. Sorry to bother you so late, Ms. Murray, but Mark left his wallet in my car. I didn’t want him to worry.”

  “Mr. Carling?” A nervous twitch erupted beneath her left eye. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the Pine Barrens with your class?”

  Mr. Carling was silent for a good ten seconds. “I’m afraid the field trip was called off, Ms. Murray. I drove Mark home myself.”

  “Oh, God.” She sank into the chair by the phone.

  “Are you telling me he’s not there?” Mr. Carling sounded horrified.

  “When did you drop him off?”

  “About an hour and a half, two hours ago.”

  Which was right around the time someone trashed Brian’s Porsche.

  * * *

  Mark didn’t know how long he’d been in the water, but it seemed like forever. He’d given up trying to swim for shore. Every time he struck out in what he thought was the right direction, he seemed to drift farther out into the ocean. He could feel all sorts of currents pulling at him, and he worried that the riptide was going to get him. It was pitch black out there and cold as hell. He tried his best not to think about what might be lurking beneath the surface of the water. He had to concentrate on staying alive... on keeping Eddie alive.

  Eddie must have hit his head when he fell into the water. Mark had found him floating face down, right near the stern of the Kestrel. The first thing Mark did was feel for a pulse, even though it was real hard to tread water and hang on to Eddie’s wrist. He felt like crying with relief when he finally located a heartbeat.

  Eddie couldn’t die. Eddie was the most important person in Mark’s life, except for his mom. It was Eddie who’d taught him how a man was supposed to act. Eddie who’d taught him to respect the power of the sea and everything that lived in it.

  And he did respect the sea. He knew that th
e sea won almost every battle, and that you had to use your head if you wanted to survive. You couldn’t waste your energy screaming or thrashing around. You had to conserve your strength for when it mattered.

  He had Eddie in a lifeguard’s hold. He tried treading water for a while, but his muscles quickly began to tremble with exhaustion from the effort. He rolled three-quarters of the way onto his back with Eddie cradled against his chest and prayed he’d be able to keep the two of them afloat until daybreak, when he might have a chance to strike out for shore.

  Maybe if he left Eddie behind he’d be able to make it to shore right now. If he didn’t have to cart one hundred and sixty pounds of dead weight, he’d have a chance to get out of this mess. He thought of his mother and how much she’d done for him all these years, and he felt like crying. If he died, a part of her would die, too, same as a part of John had died after his kids were killed in that car crash.

  John had aged right in front of them, his face crumbling in on itself at the funeral when those little white caskets were carried up to the altar and placed on either side of Libby’s big mahogany casket. He’d never realized a human face could look like that, as if all of the pain in the entire world was right there in his eyes.

  He didn’t want that to happen to his mother. If he died, she’d be left alone. Maybe she’d even turn to that bastard Brian Gallagher if Mark wasn’t there to stop her. It wasn’t so hard to imagine it happening. Hell, he’d seen them together tonight through the living-room window.

  All he had to do was leave Eddie to fend for himself. They were out beyond the breakers. Eddie could probably float on his back for a good half hour or so. That would be plenty of time for Mark to get to shore and find help before anything awful had a chance to happen.

  That wasn’t being selfish, was it? He was only sixteen years old. He hadn’t even slept with a girl yet or bought his first car. He was too young to die. Eddie had lived his life. He wouldn’t want Mark to sacrifice himself so an old man could have a few more years.