"I'm going to the marina and tell Grant Hagan that he can go to hell. I'm not selling and I'm not leaving."
"Do you know why he's doing this?" Aryl asked.
She lifted her shoulders. "I have no idea. I looked through the archives; I found an interview with him months ago about the annual artist's ball, but nothing else."
"Well, I know why," Aryl said, leaning closer. "I'll tell you, but you have to tread very carefully from this point on."
She nodded, wide eyed and waiting.
"It appears Mr. Hagan has been skimming money from the city. He thinks you know about it and his attempt to drive you out of business was to protect his secret."
Her mouth dropped open.
"So, what we need to decide is how to move forward," Aryl continued. "In this case, if you want to save your paper, I think you need to look past this story, as much as you'd like to bust it open."
Muzzy looked hesitant. "He's embezzling."
"And he'll get himself caught, eventually. That's not the issue right now."
"Ignoring a story like this goes against everything I stand for," Muzzy said.
"I know. But if you want to keep reporting, you might just have to this one time."
"What should I do?"
Aryl thought. He could ask Jonathan and Caleb to come with him to Grant Hagan's office, but he doubted they would want to get in this deep, even for Muzzy. Truth was, he didn't want to get overly involved, either. But ignoring the fact that Muzzy was about to lose everything wasn't something he could ignore.
"Why don't I meet with him tomorrow afternoon?"
"Alone?"
"Yes. Your job is to continue doing what you do. But it's imperative that you look the other way with this story. You have to promise me."
She writhed. "When it busts open on its own, I can be all over it, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay. I'll do it."
***
Aryl thought it best to fill Jonathan in on what was happening with Peter. In a week he'd be joining them on the boats again.
It had happened perfectly earlier that afternoon. William was waiting, tucked in a pullout alongside the road that led into Rockport. The other runner looked back just in time to see Peter get stopped and slowed down. William played along perfectly, throwing Peter in the car quickly as the other guy stole one last look and then sped off.
They sat in Jonathan's living room while Aryl tactfully explained the situation to Jonathan, who looked increasingly more anxious. Amy and Jac were playing together on the floor, Jean watching them over the edge of a book across the room and Claire and Ava in the kitchen hoping to plan for that Saturday's winter market.
"It might snow again tomorrow," Ava said with warning.
"Snow we can handle. A blizzard on the other hand might shut us down for a week."
"Honestly, I'm wondering if we shouldn't consider canceling this Saturday. Besides the weather, I don't know if Arianna will even be able to make it with Emily leaving tomorrow. Who will watch the children and Ethel?"
"Caleb."
"Caleb? But they work on Saturday."
Claire clamped her lips and dropped her eyes.
"What do you know?" Ava asked.
"I'm not supposed to say anything. Not just yet. Promise not to say a word, alright?"
"Of course. What's going on?"
"Well, I stopped by Arianna's yesterday and she told me that Caleb is coming back home."
"Because Emily is leaving?"
"That, and she said Jonathan doesn't seem to be looking for anyone else like he promised. He's grown impatient and desperate. Now that Arianna needs him as much as the farm does, he's decided he's done with the boats once and for all."
"Oh, really?"
They both spun around and found Jonathan standing in the doorway. He looked both shocked and angry.
"When was he planning on telling me this?"
***
Jonathan glared down at Caleb before he even boarded the boat. It would be a short day, threatening clouds loomed. But they had to try to get something in.
"I had to hear about your leaving from Claire," Jonathan said. Caleb met his eyes and held out his hands.
"I was going to tell you," he said.
"When?"
"Today."
"When's your last day? Again." Jonathan growled more than asked.
"Today."
He threw up his arms and spun around. "No warning. Thanks."
"Hey, I barely had any warning that Emily was leaving."
"You're running home because Arianna thinks she can't handle it without her."
"We both know she can't handle my mother during one of her episodes, the chores she has to do because I'm not there and three small children," Caleb said. His tone held a warning that Aryl quickly picked up. "I only came back as a favor. You knew it was temporary."
"We still need you here," Jonathan said, glaring.
"She needs me more."
Jonathan growled a curse and took two steps away. "She calls and you come running. Did you ever think that she has you trained, Caleb? Like a dog? You've never been able to see it, but we always have. She can handle this just fine, she just doesn't want to."
"I think I know my wife and what she can handle better than you do," Caleb said, widening his stance on the deck.
Jonathan threw a dismissive hand in Caleb's direction. He could have told Caleb that he was worried to death about surviving. Fear was the root of his anger. He also had boiling anger just below the surface, frustration and resentment at his parents. They were dead, there was nothing he could say to them now; he would get no answers about his brother. He was even angry at the fate of things. Why was he born gifted and his brother so damaged?
In the last few days everyone had seemed to have forgotten about his newly discovered brother. But Jonathan hadn't. Money was so tight he couldn't afford to drive to Boston weekly to visit him. Letters were the only connection he had and he didn't feel like it was enough.
He also hadn't stopped thinking about the little boy at the orphanage and it made him angry at the whole world that he could do nothing to help him. The connection baffled him, but he couldn't deny that there was one. If he hadn't lost his money, that child would be living in his home, dressed in small tailor made suits and learning from a private tutor. Of course he wished the same thing for Jean, but at least Jean had a warm home and loving parents. All these things frustrated Jonathan beyond words. And unfortunately for Caleb, he was the only outlet for Jonathan's frustration.
"You can't just do a few more weeks?" Jonathan asked.
"A few weeks will turn into a few weeks more and then I'll never get off these boats."
"You're never going to make it, living off just your farm."
Caleb bristled. "That's my chance to take."
"I've been looking-"
"No you haven't!" Caleb yelled. "Have you taken out a single ad? Have you walked around asking? Have you contacted any employment agencies in Boston?"
Jonathan didn't answer. He only glared.
"You don't want to find anyone else. You want things to stay just how they are. And, you two have only come by one day to help me. You promised you would!" Caleb stepped closer. Jonathan's eyes welcomed a fight.
"Let's just calm down," Aryl said, stepping between them. "Jon, let him go home-"
"Let him?" Caleb asked. "He doesn't let me do anything. If I want to go home right now, I don't need to ask his permission."
"Right," Jonathan said snidely. "To do something you only need Arianna's permission."
Caleb lunged at Jonathan, but Aryl stayed firmly between them. "You two are not going to do this," he growled.
Men stared from another boat as they were readying it to take out to sea.
Aryl shoved Caleb back to put some space between them. "Both of you calm down. Caleb, you want to go home, go. We'll manage." He turned to Jonathan. "We have Peter coming next week, remember? We'll split up two and two
. He can go with Ian. He's already trained."
Both Jonathan and Caleb puffed angry breaths from their nose. Caleb's eyes slid over to Aryl. While his eyes were afire, his voice was overly calm. "These are your boats. Don't forget that. He likes to be the boss, the one making the calls. But you and I know that his calls aren't always right."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jonathan asked.
"You know what it means," Caleb said. "Before it all blew up we were begging you to get out. Right up until the last minute, we both were begging you. We knew what was right. You didn't want to lose money by selling early. But by waiting you lost it all. For all of us. If you had listened to us, we might still have something in this world." Caleb leaned forward. "You called it dead wrong," he said quietly.
Jonathan became very still. Frighteningly still. Aryl took Caleb's arm and turned him around, breaking his pointed stare at Jonathan.
"Why don't you go ahead and go home," Aryl said. "We've got it from here."
Caleb lumbered off the boat and Aryl followed, walking with him to the end of the pier.
"You know I'm right," Caleb said.
"Yes, I do."
"Don't ever let him tell you to do something when you know it's the wrong call."
"I know they’re my boats, Caleb."
"He was wrong that day in October, he is wrong about how he is running these boats and he's wrong about Arianna."
"Go calm down, Caleb and this will all blow over."
Caleb stopped and looked at him. "Will it?"
***
A short day it was, with Jonathan and Aryl wrapping things up just after lunch time.
"You go on ahead. Get this sold and then go home. I'll finish up here."
Normally Jonathan would never leave with work still to be done, but he was still upset over the fight with Caleb and needed to take a long walk before going home to Ava. He was sure she'd have some comforting words for him.
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, provided this storm isn't too bad." He hoisted the crate with their catch and walked with wide steps down the pier toward the buyer.
***
Aryl worked steadily keeping one eye out for Hagan. He was early, pulling up in a black Ford. He didn't roll the window down or get out. His head stayed on a swivel, looking out for Muzzy. Aryl finished putting the boat in order and then jumped down to the pier.
Walking toward the car, Hagan noticed him and just as quickly dismissed him. A few other fishermen were both wrapping up their day or just pulling in.
Hagan jumped when Aryl knocked on the window. He rolled it down a crack.
"Can I help you?" he asked, looking somewhat annoyed.
"I'm here to discuss your offer to buy the Rockport Review."
To say Mr. Hagan was surprised was an understatement.
"Why don't you step out so we can talk." Aryl's tone left no room for negotiating.
Hagan moved slow and cautious. He very much looked like he wanted to say something, but had no idea in which direction to take the conversation.
"It's okay if I do all the talking," Aryl said, grinning. Yes, he'd learned to read people very well. He knew men like this. Skinny snub nosed men who wore delicate spectacles and though they were awkward, they tried to move with grace and authority. Every single one of them felt bold when making anonymous threats, but when confronted by a real man, they cowered.
"Muzzy shared with me the notes she's been receiving and let me say first, your offer was insulting. Surely a man with access to the city's money could have coughed up a bit more."
"I...I don't know what you're talking about," Hagan stammered.
Aryl grinned. "Sure you do. After all, that's why you want to get rid of the paper, right? To keep Muzzy from poking around, finding out your secret?"
Hagan's eyes darted and he licked his lips nervously.
"The thing is, Muzzy doesn't even know. But I know," Aryl said, answering Hagan's questioning look. "How? A friend. No one at city hall, rest assured."
"What do you intend to do?" Hagan asked, trying to stand tall.
"Nothing," Aryl said with a shrug.
"Nothing?" Hagan's eyes narrowed. "What do you want then?"
"For my silence? Leave the paper alone. She has no idea who you are, what you want or why you want it. Let's keep it that way."
"How do I know she won't find out?"
"The only way anyone will find out what you're doing is if you continue to be messy and paranoid. You look away from the paper and I'll look away from what you're doing. It's that easy."
Aryl could tell this man, with his nerves raw and his eyes unsure, was in way over his head. But he was hardly a threat.
Hagan gave a shaky nod of agreement and took a step back, bumping into the door of his car. A real criminal would have made a counter threat or given some kind of warning. Hagan just stumbled into his car, shaking hands gripping the wheel and drove away.
Aryl laughed. With Muzzy's problem taken care of, that left Peter and turning him into a functional member of society. Which wouldn't be nearly as easy as this had been.
***
Caleb worked well past dark in the barn, using the money he made last week to purchase seeds. He stacked bags of them along the wall and held an oil lamp up, staring at them for a moment. Jonathan's words echoed in his mind.
You're never going to make it, living off just your farm.
Through the dirty barn window he could see the house, Arianna just now turning on the lights. Deep down he knew he was taking a gamble. Still, it seemed the right thing to do. The vast back acres had rested for the last few years, the ones his father had worked so hard to improve over his lifetime. He'd cleared trees, dug roots, sifted out rocks, fertilized and cared for that land until it was as productive as any in the country. Acre farming was no easy thing in these parts, but his father had been successful and he would be, too.
He'd decided on barley and prayed it was the right choice. The prices were decent now, but who knew what they'd be come harvest. Of course Jonathan had been too wrapped up in his own troubles to spare a few minutes to talk it over with Caleb and help him decide. He'd gone into town after Aryl had ended his fishing time a day early, made a snap decision and brought home the seeds.
Now he questioned himself. Questioned everything. Including how a lifelong friend could be so cold and selfish, worried for his own endeavors and no one else's.
***
"Another snowstorm," Muzzy grumbled under her breath. She stood at the front window of the Rockport Review with all the lights off, staring out at the swirling snow. It would make tomorrow morning's deliveries that much more dangerous and difficult. She sighed, turned away and sat at her desk, sipping coffee.
The shadow of a person appeared in front of the large window, moved slowly and stopped at the door. Muzzy put the coffee mug down silently in the dark. She was confident that whoever was standing outside couldn't see her where she was. She waited for the mail slot to open. A knock came instead. One that made her nearly jump out of her skin. She reached under her desk and grabbed a stick before moving to the door.
She leaned in close. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice faltering.
"It's Peter."
Muzzy dropped both the stick and her shoulders. "What do you want?" she asked, upset with herself for being so easily rattled.
"I need to talk to you."
She debated for a moment and then unlocked the door. He stepped inside with a hard shiver, shaking snow off his hair and shoulders.
"What are you doing out in this storm at this hour?" she asked. He looked to the large clock on the wall and saw it was nearly midnight.
"I was out riding when it started snowing," he flashed a charming smile, glancing at her sideways.
While she hadn't gone blind and still appreciated Peter's good looks, they no longer had the effect on her that they used to. There were questions standing between him and her fluttering heart. Back at her desk she picked up her mug and dropped down
into her chair.
"Want some coffee?" she asked.
"I'd love some."
Muzzy thumbed over her shoulder. "It's in the back room. Mugs are on the shelf."
He couldn't help but grin as he passed her. In the back room he found the coffee easily enough and added a lot of cream, no sugar. As he went to leave he noticed a bedroll in the corner of the room and a trunk dragged out from the corner. It was open. He could see clothes, extra linens and an extra pair of goggles.
Back in the front he sat across from her and put his feet up on the corner of the desk. He expected her to bark at him, but she mimicked the movement and put her own up as well.
"You live here?" he asked.
"I do," she said.
He expected her to press him to reveal where he lived in return. She didn't.
"I've been away for a while."
"Have you?" she asked.
"I thought maybe you'd noticed."
In truth, she had realized she hadn't seen him around in well over a week, but wouldn't let him know that. "I've been busy. Aryl helped me with that problem I had."
He pretended to look confused.
"Someone trying to shut me down, remember?"
"Oh, right. That's all straightened out?"
"Yes. So, it's back to business as usual."
So far as Peter knew, Aryl had told her the name of the man, but she had no idea that the man was his uncle. He hoped to keep it that way.
They listened to the storm for a few minutes. It seemed to be growing more intense and both were grateful to be sheltered and warm.
"Shouldn't you be getting home soon? I think if you wait much longer you might not be able to."
He nodded slowly. "I...don't have a home. Not anymore. I was hoping I could stay here."
Her mug froze mid-sip. Amazingly, she didn't choke.
She swallowed hard. "Here?"
"I was honest when I said I didn't have anyone. I was staying at a house on the edge of town. The one you followed me to that day. I can't stay there any more."
"Why not?"
"It's a long story."
Purling Road - The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-10 Page 21