by Beverly Bird
Maddie watched him move back to the Pathfinder. She decided she liked the way he moved when his leg wasn’t bothering him. And he had a good, strong heart.
She looked down at Josh again. A child—any child— had to be hard for him to deal with after his loss. By his own admission he stayed on Candle because he didn’t want the vicious reminders inherent in the crime rate on the mainland. But for Josh’s sake, he hadn’t shied away from him.
Joe came back with tape. He made a big X across the bay window, then stood back to study his handiwork. Finally he nodded.
"That ought to do it. The big island will probably flood, too," he said, "but that’s not as likely to happen up here. The Wick is higher. Especially in this area, right next to the crest." He made a motion toward the promontory near the bridge. "You should be safe enough. Of course, when the big island floods, you tend to lose your electricity up here. Got any candles?"
Those she had noticed in a kitchen drawer. She nodded. "Good. Well." He hesitated for a moment. She had
the feeling that he was mentally running through possible reasons—excuses?—to prolong the visit, and came up with none.
"I’m off today," he went on finally, "but when the storm hits, I’ll probably hang out at the station in case anybody has any trouble. Give a call there if you need anything."
"Yes," Maddie answered. "Thank you."
"See you later." He moved down the steps, then seemed to think of something else and stopped. But when he looked back, it was at Angus.
"Want a lift down to the boats?"
Maddie realized for the first time that Angus had been inordinately quiet throughout Joe’s whole visit. In fact, she had almost forgotten his presence. Then Angus stood up.
"For fish," he said. "They give me fish."
"I know," Joe answered. "Waltzing Matilda’s in at the dock. She went out last night for cod and she’s back already."
Maddie was freshly amazed at how everybody knew everything that went on around the island. No detail was safe or private.
Angus went down the steps. "Cod. Good." He looked back over his shoulder at Maddie and Josh. "Good-bye."
"Bye, Angus." She watched them leave, impressed all over again. Even Doe Carlson had more or less ignored Angus, as though he were invisible.
Joe Gallen really didn’t belong on Candle, she thought suddenly. He wasn’t like the others at all.
Chapter 9
Maddie was just shooing Josh inside for lunch when she saw a postal truck creep up the road over the promontory. Her brows shot up when it stopped in front of her own mailbox.
It certainly didn’t take the utility companies long to get around to billing a new customer, she thought sourly. Josh went inside, and she trudged irritably down the drive again to snatch whatever it was from the box. It turned out to be a sales circular from a department store over in Jonesport, but her good mood had plummeted anyway.
She found herself wishing she had brought a coffeepot.
She tossed the circular on the kitchen counter and opened a can of soup for Josh. She wasn’t hungry. She let him eat in the living room in front of the TV because it was turning out to be that sort of day. Joe had been right. Already the perfect blue of the sky was becoming marred by an occasional cloud. They weren’t dark or threatening, but they scudded overhead on an increasingly volatile wind.
At three o’clock, the network broke into a soap opera to give the coming storm its first press. They said it was expected to hit the mainland between six and nine o’clock, with gale force winds and rain. The coast guard had issued a small craft warning.
Ho-hum, Maddie thought, and wandered into the kitchen. She made herself a cup of coffee and went out onto the back deck. She thought of Joe Galleri’s eyes again. She really would like to photograph him, she realized.
The ideas and images for her pictures had never been something she could force. It was useless to twist and wrestle the germ of a thought, trying to make it come to life. It was like watching a pot to make it boil, she thought, but it was hard not to do that just then because her head had been emptied of pictures since Rick had tried to take Josh. She’d been starting to panic a little, to succumb to a strong urge to smash the block, to break through it so she could work again.
This current urge was progress, she thought gratefully. She realized that she was no longer afraid that the pictures would never come back.
She returned to the TV, alternately watching it and watching Josh play with No-Name. He had crumpled a wrapper from the package of crackers he’d had with lunch, and the kitten batted it around the living room with devoted frenzy. Once, she almost thought Josh was going to laugh.
She wondered if she had been wrong in not letting Leslie see him until Thursday. Maybe they should be striking while the iron was hot, while he was being tugged a little bit by the presence of Angus and the kitten. Maddie went to the phone to call her, to see if she had hours on Saturday, and realized that the phone was dead.
Well, hell.
Was it the incoming storm? She was inclined to think so. The only way the phone lines could run to the mainland was under the water, she reasoned, and looking out the bay window past the tape, she saw that the sea was getting rough. Still, she felt suddenly claustrophobic. It was like a weight pressing in on her chest. She’d been there for days without a telephone and it hadn’t particularly bothered her, but at that moment she felt cut off. vaguely panicked.
Three whole months of this? No wonder everybody was so attached to the Sandbar. Maddie realized that she was already bored out of her mind.
"Come on," she called out to Josh, stepping into the living room. "Let’s go down to that diner for an early dinner." It would get them out of the house, she thought, and while they were there she could find out if the phone at the diner worked.
Josh wasn’t as reluctant to leave No-Name as she feared. Maybe he was feeling a little cooped-up, too. They went out to the car, running through rain that was just starting. They drove over the bridge, and Maddie realized that they probably shouldn’t stay on the big island very long. Joe hadn’t said anything about the bridge washing out, but the water level was already high, only a few feet below the span.
The diner was quiet. Only one booth and three tables were taken, and there was an old man at the counter. She and Josh settled into a booth, and a waitress approached.
Candle Island wasn’t so far out of the mainstream as all that, Maddie noted wryly, watching her. One side of the teenager’s head was shorn down almost to her skull, but long hair flowed over her other shoulder, and a small silver ring pierced one nostril. Maddie
saw Josh studying the girl in rapt fascination, and she smiled.
She ordered a hamburger and waited for Josh to make a selection.
"How about a turkey sandwich with mashed potatoes?" Maddie suggested when he kept staring at the girl. That was always a favorite. But before he could latch on to the idea, she went on, deliberately giving him a choice. "They’ve got ham-and-cheese, too."
Josh didn’t answer.
"Don’t he talk?" the waitress asked finally. "That’s right, they said he don’t."
Maddie’s temper swished. Come on, Josh. Please. She was already getting tired of the omniscient "they," that unseen entity who knew everything about her, about her child.
She finally sighed. "Better bring him the turkey. Wait!" she said suddenly when the waitress turned away, scribbling. "Is the phone working here?"
The girl scowled, cracking gum. "I don’t know." "Would you check, please? I mean, there’s no urgency, but could you just let me know when you bring our food back?"
"Sure."
The girl returned five minutes later with their drinks. "I checked. It’s working fine. Why? Yours ain’t?" Maddie frowned. "No."
"Well, you’re up on The Wick, right? So something probably happened to the trunk or whatjacallit running under the bridge."
Maddie nodded. "Does that happen often?"
She shrugged
. "I guess."
Such brainpower, Maddie thought, grimacing at her own uncharitable thought. "I noticed the water was high under the bridge, too. Does it ever get washed out?"
The girl shook her head. "Not too much that I’ve ever heard of."
Still, Maddie thought, maybe coming down to the big island hadn’t been a good idea.
When their food came, she ate quickly, wanting to be ready to leave as soon as Josh finished. He ate the mashed potatoes but picked at the turkey. By the time he pushed his plate away, the rain was coming down hard. It rattled against the diner windows in wind-driven bursts.
They went outside, dashing to the car, and were drenched by the time they scrambled inside. Maddie drove back up to The Wick by way of the main street. She noticed that the Pathfinder was already at the police station.
The wind made the telephone lines dance wildly. The sign in front of the cafe swung back and forth. The flag at the post office whipped and snapped, and metal jangled from the halyard, loud enough that she could hear it through their rolled-up windows. Waves crashed against the east side of the bridge, throwing foam up over the asphalt.
As she drove up onto the crest. Maddie felt something cold and oily settle into her stomach. Why did I do this? Why did I have to go out on a day like this?
A hundred more feet and they’d be in their driveway. Suddenly, Maddie felt a desperate need to reach it. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel, her fingers hooking like talons. She thought, I’m having a nervous breakdown. This is irrational, pure paranoia.
Whatever it was, it was pounding, urgent. She felt as though the shrieking wind was trying to tell her of danger but couldn’t find the words.
She turned into the drive and sat there a moment, shaking. Josh started to reach for his door handle.
"Wait," she croaked instinctively. Why? Something . . . She looked around almost frantically, squinting through the rain. And then she saw it.
She had to swallow fast and hard to keep from letting out a sound. She hadn’t turned the engine off. She threw the car into reverse and hit the accelerator hard. They bulleted out of the driveway, scraping the undercarriage of the Volvo, hurtling backward into the street.
She thrust the car into drive and they shot forward, away from the house. She was shaking badly. She looked over at Josh. He was staring at her as though she was out of her mind.
Maybe I am. Am I? Did I really see what I thought I saw?
It was borderline impossible. She’d locked the door on their way out, and No-Name had been inside, bouncing around the living-room floor.
She didn’t turn onto the bridge. She followed The Wick Road around past the big houses on the west side, up to the northern tip, and came back down again . . . but no, that wasn’t good either, because the house would be on Josh’s side of the car, and if she was right, if she wasn’t out of her mind, then she didn't want him to see it.
It could have been anything, she thought, anything small and dark. On the door?
Think, she ordered herself, and she whipped the car around in an abrupt U-turn, going north again, just in case. It didn’t make sense that someone would kill a child’s cat and nail it to the door.
She went all the way around The Wick again and passed the house fast, looking to her left when they came to it. It was still there, sweet God, it was still there. Why?
Fury finally cracked through her disbelief.
She went around The Wick one more time and drove
back onto the bridge blindly, her eyes burning, her teeth set into a feral snarl. And she wondered who had done this to him. Who would be cruel enough, petty enough, to break a child’s heart?
Rick.
"No," she whispered aloud. Nausea and her hamburger tried to push back up in her throat. "That’s ridiculous."
She was halfway to the police station before she knew she was going there. She drove blindly, like an animal in pain, seeking out a safe place to hide. She had stopped in front of city hall before she knew she could not go in there.
She could not run to Joe Gallen. The cops couldn’t do anything. The island would talk about how she’d come apart at the seams over a kitten. She pressed her hands to her temples, her teeth snicking together with her shivering. She was cold, damp, furious, uncertain.
If it was Rick, then it made all the sense in the world for her to go inside, to find Joe. Rick hated cats. She remembered how the first one had disappeared, all those years ago.
But Angus hadn’t liked No-Name either. Claws.
Gina Gallen. While you were sniffing around Maddie...
Cassie Diehl. Look what the cat dragged in . . .
Maddie made a small, moaning sound.
Then she realized, stricken, that it wasn’t just her voice that filled the car. She looked over at Josh wildly. His mouth was open and a thin, keening noise came from his throat. She followed his horrified gaze and saw a cop car come out of the parking lot. As it passed them, the lights and sirens came on. Josh screamed.
Shouldn’t have brought him here, stupid, stupid. . .
Before she could make the conscious choice to put the car in gear and drive off again, her door was wrenched open. She yelped instinctively as a strong
hand grabbed her arm, dragging her out, and she fought it without sense, turning into the big, hard body, lashing out at it before she realized that it wasn’t Rick. Strong arms closed around her with the comfort she had known she would find there.
"What’s going on?" Joe growled. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
In some still-rational part of her mind, Maddie thought that no one could accuse him of having good manners.
Icy rain pelted them, and she clawed her fingers into his flannel shirt, in the opened front of his jacket. She stopped fighting him, but Joe was still shaken by her reaction. Carefully and warily, he eased his hold on her.
A power line had gone down on the south end, and MP&E was sending a chopper over to set things right again. In the meantime, there was a live wire dancing and throwing sparks all over the pavement on Thirty-sixth Street. He’d seen Maddie’s car as soon as he’d come outside to drive down there, then he’d realized that the boy was howling. That was when his heart had hit triple time.
"What is it?" he demanded again, fighting the urge to shake her to make her say something.
Maddie couldn’t tell him. She knew better than to try.
If she opened her mouth, nothing sensible would come out. She was too upset, too furious, too stricken by her own stupidity in bringing Josh to the police station. She knew she’d utter nothing but a stammering, staccato beat of consonants, and she didn’t want to do that in front of him. Sensible or not, wrong or right, she couldn’t bear to have him see her struggle like that.
She gasped in the rain and his fingers tightened on her arms as he grew impatient. Breathe . . . in, out, okay, okay. She managed one word. "J-Josh."
|oe let go of her. "Let’s get him inside."
"No!"
He had already started for the passenger door. He looked back at her, his eyes angry enough that she could feel their heat through the sheeting rain. He was willing to help, but he didn't like not understanding what was going on.
"N-Not in there," she tried desperately. "It was b-b-because of a c-c-op that he stopped t-talking." Please, she thought, let him accept that much, and I’ll explain the rest later.
Joe finally nodded. "All right. Then I’ll follow you back to The Wick." The live wire could do without him, he decided.
He watched her take a few shaky steps around the car, toward him again. The rain had flattened her golden hair, turning it dark. Water clung to her lashes, slicked over her skin. Absurdly, he thought that she had beautiful skin.
"You have to g-get there first," she managed. "I’ll follow you."
He scowled. "Why?"
"Because No-Name is st-t-tuck to my front door, and I don’t want J-Josh to see him. I n-need you to d-d-d—" She wasn’t going to be able to get it out, sh
e realized helplessly.
"No-Name?" The cat. "Someone stuck him to the door? Dispose of him?" he finished for her.
Maddie nodded spasmodically.
"Give me five minutes. And give me your house key, so I don’t have to break the door down. I hate doing that shit."
He was rewarded when she almost smiled, when she understood that that sort of thing had never been necessary on Candle.
At least not in his tenure, Joe thought. Dave
Bramnick had once broken through her door, that same door. That sobered him.
Maddie went back to the driver’s seat and fumbled her keys out of the ignition, working the one for the house off the ring. He followed her, and she handed it to him.
"Sit tight," he said again. "Five minutes. I’ll take care of it."
Maddie closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure when she had heard sweeter words.
Chapter 10
She had been right, Joe thought, cleaning up the mess. The kitten had been nailed to the door. But he wasn’t sure that that had killed it.
Someone had slit its throat.
The blood had drained downward, pooling on the porch, enough that even the rain had a hard time washing it away. The hose on the side of the house wasn’t working. Joe found a bucket in the Pathfinder and trooped across the street to fill it with seawater. He came back to dash it across the planks.
He went inside. Nothing appeared to be disturbed, but one of the kitchen windows was open, and rain had poured through onto the old linoleum floor. He slapped through it and closed the pane, touching it as little as possible.
He was soaked to the skin. He found the bathroom and got a towel, drying his hair. By the time he was finished, he heard Maddie’s steps on the deck outside.
Joe stood where he was, staring down at the towel in his hands. She wasn’t this freaked out about a cat, he thought. There was something else at play.