Ben jumped in his truck and headed up the Shore Lane. Ahead on Shipwreck Hill, an SUV pulled out of Ian’s driveway.
***
Finn hadn’t expected this. Not this. How would he ever get back to the harbour now?
He climbed out of the vehicle that had refused to budge out of this thick fudge of clay it was stuck in. He’d been stupid enough to take a shortcut, a rough clay road that would have saved him about five minutes on his way to Big Bay Harbour.
He’d lost those five minutes – and more.
The truck’s wheels were stuck deep into the clay, and nothing, it seemed, would move them.
He climbed back into the vehicle to try again. He couldn’t understand it. This was a four-wheel drive, only two years old, but it didn’t seem to be working.
There was a reason for that.
Ian never used the four-wheel drive. Over time, the shifter had seized up.
People wondered why Ian had such a heavy-duty vehicle. He wouldn’t carry wood or heavy, bulky items or waste of any kind because these would damage the vehicle’s looks. As for the four-wheel drive, it was practical and necessary in such an out-of-the-way place as The Shores, but Ian never went out in the kind of weather, or on the kinds of roads, for which four-wheel drive was required.
Finn didn’t know Ian had never used the drive. All he knew was it wasn’t working. He’d have to walk. That would take fifteen minutes at least, all for trying to save five. And he’d lost another ten messing around here.
He began the trudge, his feet sinking into sneaker-sucking clay.
He pulled out his cellphone.
Still no service.
Chapter 35
“The place looks great, Ian.” Ben surveyed the damage caused by the fight between man and bird. Pictures hanging crookedly on the wall, lamps knocked over, shattered window glass.
“You been in a bad mood, or what?”
“Yeah, but I’m feeling better now you’re here.”
Jasmine jumped off Ben’s shoulder and landed on Ian’s head. Ian winced.
“So, been up to anything lately?”
Ian grinned at Ben’s dry humour.
“Ferguson.”
“Ferguson did this?” Ben surveyed the room again.
“Ferguson and Jasmine. Bird vs. Man. Bird won.”
Ben whistled, held out his hand to Jasmine. She flew over and buried her head in his beard.
“Let me patch up that window for you. Lucky it’s summer. Then, mebbe you’d like to come stay with us overnight.”
“Ben, nice offer, but I can’t move.”
“Too right. Well then I’ll doss down here ta keep you company.”
“Ben, it’s not necessary.”
“Looks to me like it might be. Let me get a fire going and patch up the window. Like a tea?”
“I’d kill for one. Uh oh.”
“What?”
Off Jasmine went, on the “killed of course” theme.
***
Jamieson pulled out her cellphone. It was flickering between no service and one unsteady bar of reception. In between moments of fleeting service and no service, she punched out a brief text to Finn.
“Found them. Dunes shore. Alert coast guard.”
She repeated the text several times, hoping at least one would get through, that when Finn reached Big Bay there would be cellphone service, in spite of the poor reception earlier. The storm had been coming in waves – an assault of wind and rain followed by calm. A calm that might allow cellphone reception.
She was punching at her phone, angry that she hadn’t handled this better, that she hadn’t turned around and gone back to the village and alerted the coast guard immediately when she saw that the Annaben was gone. She should not have tried to play heroine and endangered them all. Had she been showing off for Finn?
She stuck the phone in her pocket, checked Dot’s pulse again. At least she had one.
“What were you two up to?” she demanded of Hy.
“I was following Dot. I thought I was following Abel, but I guess she was.”
“Abel? Not Abel? Not really?” Disbelief in Jamieson’s voice and expression.
“Yes, really. I know you don’t think he exists, but that’s ridiculous. Dot’s his daughter.”
“Like father, like daughter then? She nearly disappeared, too.”
“Yes, because she’s been following him.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know. Not for sure. But I’d bet on it. It’s about the big fish, I’m sure it is.”
“He’s gone after the big fish?”
“Yes. They think there’s a pool of them off this stretch of coast here, and Abel wants to get one.”
“They?”
“Abel, Dot, Seamus, Ferguson.”
“Seamus…?”
“The fisheries guy who sent Abel the email. I don’t think his business is strictly official.”
Jameson nodded. “And Ferguson?”
Hy grinned. “Ferguson’s probably after a Guinness record. They want the fish, and I think they hoped Abel would lead them to it.”
“Willingly?”
Hy shrugged. “Not sure. Anyway, he came here of his own free will. Like I said, I think we followed him here.”
“And –?”
“We lost him.”
Jamieson sighed.
Dot moaned.
***
Finn was back at Big Bay Harbour. He was staring at the line of boats docked on the pier. Wondering which one he’d take. Which one he dared to take. Which one he’d be able to start. Boats were different from cars. Fishermen didn’t leave their keys in the ignition. A boat was worth a lot more than a car. It was a man’s livelihood.
He pulled out his cellphone, and the service indicator showed some low reception.
He clicked. The service indicator cut out.
No service.
***
By the time Ian had told Ben the whole story about Ferguson, it was the early hours of the morning. He and Ben had tried several times to reach Jamieson to fill her in, but there was no response. Not at the police house. Not on her cellphone.
They’d phoned Finn as well. No answer. His voice mail was full.
They even tried Murdo, but his phone was on the kitchen table, and he was snuggled upstairs in bed with April.
What had started with one old man missing had turned into a list of missing people.
Abel.
Hy.
Jamieson.
Finn.
Four people missing. They ought to do something. But what?
It wasn’t as if Ian could do much at all.
***
“Finn’s bound to be at Big Bay by now.” Jamieson was standing close to the water’s edge, looking out into the dark.
“I could make us some tea,” Hy volunteered.
Jamieson turned. Her expression brightened.
“I’d kill for some tea.” It made her think of Jasmine. She could almost hear the parrot picking up on the word “killed,” and saying “of course.”
Hy prepared tea in the galley of the Annaben.
Although it was a serious situation, she felt like Robinson Crusoe, energized by the thought of taking supplies from the beached boat and carving out comfort in the wild.
She came out with a pot and three cups. She nodded over at Dot.
“I’m hoping to get some down her throat.”
Jamieson helped Hy position Dot. She held her upright as Hy gently slipped the cup between her lips and tilted it. Some of the liquid spilled out.
Hy tilted the cup some more. This time there was no liquid dripping out. Dot swallowed a tiny bit of tea. Then a tiny bit more.
Slowly, her eyes opened.
<
br /> “Thank God,” said Hy.
“Where’s Abel?” asked Dot.
***
The Cape Islander had visited every one of the islands that dotted Big Bay. Now she appeared to be returning home. Home, toward the sandbar that guarded the entrance to the harbour. When she hit it, her prow rose high in the air and the little inflatable boat came sliding off the back and into the water again.
Abel tipped his hat to her, and fired up his engine, remembering that he had a mission.
The fish. But would the fish be out in this weather?
***
The fish was circling, disturbed by the storm. The waves were upsetting its pattern. Around and around, all three hundred pounds of it circled, until it was caught in a current it couldn’t fight and drawn out into the opening of Big Bay harbour.
It smelled the man.
It smelled a fight in the offing.
The old man smelled something, too. He smelled cod. Peering out over the water he saw a circle, big and boiling, the thrusts of a mammoth fish churning up the already choppy waters. He smiled, and prepared his fishing line.
***
Finn’s cellphone had been taunting him with its service, no service signals.
Finally, he got a steady signal and was able to get his text messages. There were a few of them, but they all said basically the same thing. Jamieson had found Dot and Hy, and she wanted him to call the coast guard. Of course that made sense. Now it did, anyway. They’d been forced to try to execute a maverick rescue, because they had no cellphone reception. Now he did.
He’d better move quickly before he lost it.
He couldn’t move quickly, though. His hands were shaking and fingers kept missing their tiny targets. He made three unsuccessful attempts before he clicked on the three numbers in the right sequence.
911. Emergency.
His impatience grew as the phone rang five times before a woman answered.
He blurted out the details, and she appeared to take them in, until he gave the location. The Shores didn’t register in the consciousness of most islanders. Some didn’t know it existed. This woman might be one of them.
“The…where?” She sounded confused when he said “The Shores.” There were shores all around Red Island, weren’t there? That’s why there was a coast guard.
“Big Bay Harbour,” he spat out, despairing of explaining any more to her. They’d just have to come here, and he would direct them to Jamieson.
He did manage to convince her that it was an emergency.
He disconnected, satisfied that the woman was going to initiate an immediate response. She had assured him a helicopter would be on its way in moments. Not quite the cavalry, but Red Island’s version of it.
He felt a strand of guilt. He didn’t know who he was worried about more. His sister, Hy? Dot, the woman he’d spent the past year with? Or Jamieson, intruding on that affection, executing a powerful pull on his emotions?
Finn realized that once the helicopter came, he was going to have to get home on his own steam. The truck. Stuck. Who was going to rescue him?
There was a glimmer of light on the horizon that shone an outline around a small vessel. He squinted to see more. There didn’t appear to be anyone in it.
It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The vision was there one moment, gone the next. So fast, Finn wasn’t sure what he’d seen, if anything.
There was nothing on the horizon now except the metallic glint of the sun rising.
A sliver, shrouded in black cloud.
Chapter 36
The coast guard took Jamieson, Hy, and Dot to Winterside.
The three women had implored the pilot to circle around and search for Abel.
“He might be out there and in danger,” Hy insisted.
“Might be…isn’t is,” said the pilot in a pile up of verbs that was nearly incomprehensible.
“Unless this cop orders me, I ain’t going out over that water, even though the storm’s settled down. Who knows but it might not kick up again. That’s what they say it’s gonna do. We’re going over land. My orders concern that lady there, not some gent who isn’t where he oughta be.” He jerked his head at Dot behind him, who appeared to once again have lost consciousness.
Jamieson said nothing. She wasn’t going to risk four lives for one elusive individual.
They landed in an airfield on the old army base, where an ambulance met them and took them to the Red Island Royal Hospital Emergency. Dot was admitted immediately, and Dr. Diamante wanted to keep Hy in as well for observation, but she refused. They couldn’t give up the search for Abel when they were so close. As she was leaving the hospital she tripped and fell to the floor. She couldn’t get up right away. Couldn’t get up at all.
Dr. Diamante was there, placing a hand on her elbow to gently lift her up, his caterpillar eyebrow on the move as it arched in concern.
“Deezee?” he asked.
She shook her head and nearly fell again, despite his support. What had he said? The word spun in her mind. Finally, she got it.
“Yes, dizzy,” she said, frustrated that she would not be able to return to The Shores with Jamieson.
***
Finn had no success in getting Ian’s truck out of the rut. He pulled out his flashlight to examine it more closely, and the light sparked off something metallic behind a grove of trees.
He walked over, aiming the light at what turned out to be the snout of Nathan’s paramedic van.
Found. At least something had been found. He pulled open the driver’s door. Keys in the ignition.
Finn started up the vehicle.
In the back, Seamus shot up, woken by the roar of the engine. He’d been exhausted by the effort of pounding at the van and shouting until his throat was raw. As the van began to move over the lumpy ground, he was paralyzed. He didn’t know whether to make himself known or not. He didn’t know who was driving.
Was it the old man? Someone else? If so, he’d have to make up a story about what he was doing here. It was a story he’d have to make up sooner or later, because even if he kept quiet in the back of the van, someone would be bound to open it sometime. Or he might die in there, starving and dehydrated.
Finn had no idea of his passenger in the back. His eyes and interest were focused straight ahead, and when he arrived at Ian’s, he opened the driver door, hopped out, and headed straight for the house.
Seamus froze when he heard the driver get out, until he heard the footsteps moving away from the van. Going where? He had no idea where he was.
Finn stuck his head in the door of the house and Jasmine came flapping down on him. She sat on his head and smacked kisses on his cheek.
She was hungry.
Finn was focused on the room, reduced to a shambles by the fight between man and bird. His eyes fixed on Ian, on the couch.
“So…big party?”
“Ferguson.”
“Ferguson did this?” Finn moved into the room, kicking some shards of glass off the carpet.
“With help from Jasmine.”
“They had a disagreement?”
“You might say. He tried to kill her.”
“What?” Finn dropped down into the chair with the broken arm. “Why?”
“Killed her,” said Jasmine in that deep voice, right into Finn’s ear.
“Of course,” said Finn.
“Of course I killed her,” Jasmine chorused. “Of course, of course, of course.” She began to snore, imitating the sound drifting from upstairs, where Ben had fallen asleep. He’d stayed to help but hadn’t done much.
“What’re you driving?” Ian was looking with curiosity at his driveway, visible through his shattered front window.
“I couldn’t drive it back. Had to leave it near Big Bay. Stuck in mud. Four-wheel drive
wouldn’t work.”
Ian flushed. He liked his equipment – computer and otherwise – to be in good nick.
“So what’s that?” There was a sneer in Ian’s tone, as he jutted his chin forward and regretted it, wincing with pain.
Finn walked over to the window, crunching glass beneath his feet.
“Nathan’s van. Found it near your vehicle. Abandoned, I guess, by whoever stole it.”
“Did you check in the back?”
Finn hadn’t thought of that. “Not sure I should. Crime scene.”
“Already polluted. You drove it. Fingermarks all over the steering wheel.”
“Still…”
“What if Abel’s in there?”
“You’d have thought he’d make himself heard.”
“Not if he didn’t know who was driving, which he didn’t.” Ian paused. “Not if he’s dead, either.”
Finn went outside. He walked to the back of the van, banging on the side as he went.
“Anyone in there?”
No response.
When he saw the back door handles roped shut, he decided it was time to phone Jamieson.
No answer. Voice mail full.
***
“I always thought there was something creepy about that guy.” Ben had come down from upstairs and was making coffee. Ian found it an odd thing for Ben to say. He was such an easygoing man.
“In what way?”
“There was all that toing and froing over the lobster dinner.”
“What do you mean?”
“First he wanted lobster, then it was crab. It’s not like I had stock of my own. It’s not our season. So there I was like a fool ordering a ton of lobster and changing it to crab.”
Ian’s brow wrinkled.
“I thought the lobster wasn’t available. That’s what everyone said.”
“Yeah, I heard him say it, too. But there was plenty of lobster. He just changed his mind.”
“I wonder what that was all about.”
Cod Only Knows Page 24