“Is Bucky okay? You found him, right?” asked Katie, from the passenger side. She still hadn’t registered that Bucky was truly missing.
“We didn’t. We, uh, we didn’t. I’m sorry. We’re on a full-scale search and rescue mission. We got the bay constable, the Coast Guard, some of his friends in boats, all looking. We may find him tonight.” He looked sternly at Katie. “But it’s dark now.”
“Oh my God.” Katie put her head on her knees, not believing this could be happening.
Poppy waved her arms frantically behind the officer’s head at both Katie and Luke. She put her index finger up against her mouth. She opened her eyes wide, beseeching them to obey her. “Do what Officer Monroe says, please, kids.”
“He was with me!” Katie said to the officer. “Luke Forrester was with me. At 6:00 p.m. In the cottage, then we saw his father who can also confirm . . . he wasn’t on a dock this early evening at all.”
Poppy raised an eyebrow.
“Do you have proof, ma’am? It looks a bit like the water sports camp was involved in his disappearance. They may have left the scene, as clients go out with an instructor only. We all know about the sandbars and jetties in Peconic Bay. How would Bucky even start the motor on a Jet Ski on his own without a key? I’m going to need proof from you if you’re going to contend, Miss, that Luke Forrester was with you.”
Katie looked at Luke, who nodded at her to save him with the good old, tried and true, romp in the hay alibi.
“I do. I actually have physical proof that Luke Forrester was with me this early evening. If you want to get very personal with DNA samples of his, you know, his, well, his . . .”
“I get your meaning, Miss . . .” Officer Monroe stated, acting official, but elbowing his hometown friend who’d nailed a hot chick for once in his life.
“It’s Miss Katie Doyle.”
“Well, if you’d like to attempt to exonerate your, uh, your friend here, you can come down to the station as well. Kona and Kenny are already there.”
Poppy Porter raised the other eyebrow.
Chapter Sixty
Station Stop
Luke and Katie arrived at the station, Luke in the backseat of a police cruiser belonging to his local pal, and Katie driving the old Volvo right behind them. Both of them were dazed and baffled.
Luke prayed that hothead Jake Chase hadn’t actually hurt Bucky Porter vigilante-style. He wouldn’t do that. Or would he? And where the hell was Jake now?
Officer Monroe placed Luke and Katie in chairs beside his desk. He sat at his desk looking for his notes. “A man’s missing and we don’t have a ton of time here. It’s now dark, he’s out there somewhere. And if you think you can guide us, save his life, help him or us, we’d like any more information.”
Katie spoke first. “Luke was, he was . . .”
Luke shook his head at her, “no,” and cast a look at his two buddies behind glass doors of two different offices. He wasn’t letting Kenny and Kona go down just because he had an alibi in Katie.
“Luke,” Katie pleaded. “I just, if I have something to say, I gotta . . .”
“You have nothing to say,” Luke answered. “Nothing. We’ve just got to wait. Do what Poppy told us. There’s someone else who’s part of this story.”
“Luke,” said Officer Monroe, rolling the chair wheels closer with his feet. He placed his elbows on his thighs. “I know Kenny and Kona are your friends. They’re in the other room now, separated, guarded. We can’t have you all talking together.
“A man is missing. If this woman knows you had nothing to do with it, that’s important. Kenny and Kona will find their way, right or wrong. The truth will come out. The faster our force can get a hold of what’s going on here, the faster we can find the missing person. I’d rather keep this a search and rescue mission of a live man, than a search and recovery mission of a dead man.”
Luke shook his head confidently. “Katie Doyle has no information for you. Sorry, Officer. We have no idea where Bucky is. That’s the truth.”
An hour passed. The men stayed silent. Stale Sanka coffees in Styrofoam cups were passed around several times. Stale Girl Scout cookies were offered from one of the officer’s daughter’s sale. The couple didn’t budge. Katie protested again, but obeyed Luke.
Finally, the front door of the small Southampton station banged open. A man growled at the rookie front desk clerk, “You know how much fuckin’ taxes I pay for this building? That shiny uniform you’re wearing was funded by the revenues from the powder room alone in my ocean home. It’s called Pine Manor, six acres, fuckin’ six-figure tax bill. You can’t even let me in to talk to my friends without signing some goddamn . . .”
“Sir, there are rules, there is protocol, there . . .” the clerk protested.
“I don’t have time for forms,” Jake Chase yelled.
“Dad, please, it’s a police station, not a restaurant.” Evan grabbed the clipboard and brought his hotheaded father to a row of vinyl chairs. He filled the forms out himself, shaking his head at his father. “You should know better, Dad. They’re policemen. Jesus.”
On his other side stood Jake’s latest bromance crush, a certain bartender of the Seabrook Club, Mr. Henry Walker. “Your son’s right,” he said. “Just do what they say.”
After the forms were completed, Jake Chase, Evan Chase, and Henry Walker were led back to Officer Monroe’s desk. It stood among six other old wooden desks in the center room of Southampton police headquarters. At this hour, three detectives sat at their desks working the phones. Fluorescent lights buzzing above, they called neighbors, vendors, and club members to see if anyone at all had seen Mr. Bucky Porter after 6:00 p.m.
“Can I pull over a seat, sir? And this one, and this?” Jake placed three chairs alongside Katie and Luke, before he got an answer. “I understand, Officer Monroe, you are in charge of this investigation?”
“I am. You look like you got some things you’d like to tell me.”
“That I do.” Jake rubbed his hands together fast. He was really, really excited about all this mess.
“Well, what do you got?” Officer Monroe leaned back in his chair with his hands firmly holding the armrests. He noticed this guy’s lavender shirt matched his girly lavender moccasins.
“Henry Walker and I’ve been stalking this guy Bucky Porter all day, that’s what we got. Actually, what, Henry, we’ve been on his case two weeks now? You and I?” He punched Henry too hard and went for a fist bump and let his fingers explode out. “Henry and I got this, right?”
“Yes, sir, that we do,” Henry answered elegantly. It was excruciatingly difficult for him not to roll his eyes.
Jake went on. “Okay, everyone, listen to me very carefully.” He clapped his hands together like he was coaching a sports team.
“We are, sir.” Officer Monroe raised his eyes at his partner scarfing down Thin Mints. This was going to be very interesting, he thought to himself, as he grabbed a half dozen Lemon Chalet Crèmes.
“I’m tellin’ ya,” Jake said. “Bucky Porter is a piece of shit. And, by the way, he’s not missing. He’s on the fuckin’ Appalachian Trail with some underage girlfriend by now.”
“And he would leave town, as you say, Mr. Chase, because . . .” Office Monroe was very intrigued, as were the three other officers who had been working the phones. They now stood behind Officer Monroe, hands on their hips, curious about this mismatched trio who’d ambled in like cowboys.
“We got footage of Bucky Porter with his dirty paws all over my daughter,” Jake yelled loudly, sweat bouncing off his balding head. His face was getting redder as his rage exploded. “We got photos from his iPhone of underage porn, which, by the way, just this afternoon, I made very clear to a certain Mr. Bucky Porter what I had in my fuckin’ possession!”
“No!” Katie said out loud. Luke patted her leg and gave her an I told you so glance.
“You talked to him today?” Officer Monroe asked.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t say t
alk,” Jake said. “I’d say I ripped him a new asshole. I also told him if he didn’t skip town he’d be shamed and jailed.”
“So, you threatened him,” Officer Monroe stated calmly.
“I told him I’d fuckin’ impale him. Is that a clear enough answer to your question, Officer?”
“Uh, yes, loud and clear.” Officer Monroe looked back at the other officers. Never a dull day in summer with the city people running amok in his town.
“And also, put simply, Mr. Henry Walker here,” Jake explained, spitting now, “he got some video he shot on his iPhone of a certain Mr. Bucky Porter helping himself to a Jet Ski after he’d had a lesson with these guys. In a plank of a hidden wood piling on the docks, Bucky got a key that went into a little metal box on a pole, and then on video helped himself to a camp Jet Ski, took one out for a ride.” And then Jake leaned over and whispered, very slowly, for effect, “Alone.”
“Alone? You sure of that?” Officer Monroe asked. “We’d definitely like to take a look at it.”
“Yeah,” Jake said, rubbing his hands more, “I got motive to disappear. You know, statutory rape and child porn isn’t the greatest image for a clubby guy who wants to go on the town board. And, I got him on tape getting the hell out of Dodge. Where is he now? I’m not sure, but he’s not sleeping with the fishes, I assure you. I bet that Jet Ski isn’t even dented.”
“It wasn’t.”
“The guy’s fuckin’ fine.” Jake smacked the front of Luke’s chest enthusiastically. Luke coughed to catch his breath. “You know that. I know that. He’s just long gone. And he’s framing some local dudes, just because he’s a rich fuck.”
Strange choice of words, thought Officer Monroe, coming from a guy in head-to-toe lavender.
And with that, Jake fist-bumped Henry Walker again, who, in turn, smiled, but this time winked knowingly at the local officers gathered before them.
Epilogue
November
The wind-whipped sand crunched under Katie’s boots on the same beach that, months before, had swallowed her bare summer toes. She wrapped her scarf tighter against the chill of the autumn air. The changing season made the ocean murky, turning it from azure to a silvery green. The sea grass reeds swayed wildly in the wind. On fall days with an open midday hour, the sea beckoned as if Neptune himself called to her through the waves.
Julia walked beside Katie. She’d come out for the day to help her settle into a second-floor loft above an old water mill in Bridgehampton. In her new apartment, the light spilled through the triangular windows of the two-story living area. Luke had painted the wood floors a glossy white that made the sunlight reflect off it, illuminating the room even more. Katie was grateful to have the girlfriend help as well. Ashley tried to coach her on fabrics on the phone from three thousand miles away, but it wasn’t the same as touching them, putting them out together.
“You know what I’m going to say, what it needs,” Julia said.
“I actually don’t, which is why you’re here. I’ve put all my stuff in, but it’s missing something.”
“Think about the local environment,” Julia said. “Think of the sea you’re drawn to. Copy that inside. You have sunlight that’s blinding on your white couches. If you want to soften it up, we need to add the deep blue of the ocean with the white frothy wake. I brought a bunch of indigo throws from Bali. That’s pretty much all you need and we’re set. It’ll be cool and relaxed, like my place.”
“I know you think your house is really chill, just like Kona and Luke would love, but it isn’t,” Katie said, smiling. “It’s a huge, fancy, out of control estate.”
“No, it’s like . . .”
“Please. You live on another planet,” said Katie, now laughing at Julia’s naiveté. “My apartment is nothing like your house, but I’m happy with it, it’s my little Pluto.”
“Okay, your new loft is smaller for sure—I’ll give you that—but no less chic. Let’s get it a little bohemian.”
“I’ll take the throws gladly. I can’t thank you enough. I know I’m not going to find anything so special,” Katie said. Julia would solve the warmth issue in the apartment in about three minutes, and she was grateful. “And Huck’s space is done. You saw it, it’s a weird corner room, but it’s boy everything. We took his exact room back from Hood River and replicated it here, even with his bulletin board he constructed in his second-grade woodworking class.”
“Did Luke help enough?”
“He put together Huck’s bunk bed before anything, so his friends could stay. He’s already had half a dozen sleepovers in the first weeks of third grade.”
“I’m liking all of this: your kid happy, your feet firmly planted in this sand. Luke, cute, single . . .”
“Well, Luke’s been amazing.”
“You’re seeing him how much exactly?”
“A lot and not. Both. Two days in a row, then not for a few. I won’t let him sleep in my room yet, because I don’t want to get Huck’s hopes up. He still sneaks out by seven in the morning,” Katie explained. “But then he comes back with coffee and muffins for us fifteen minutes later, as if he happened to drive by. You know, we’re both in the same school system, teaching often on the same days, so it’s hard not to bump into him. He’s in deep, I think.”
“And you?”
“I think I am, too. To be honest, I think I even knew it from the first night I saw him in a store in town. But, still I’m taking it cautiously.”
“Just don’t push him away.”
“I was so duped by Bucky,” Katie told Julia. “You can’t call that run-of-the-mill philandering. I’m glad the police investigation is continuing into his activities with women of all ages, frankly. I can surely cooperate; that is, if they find him. I feel punched in the stomach. I’m still not totally accepting he was hiding this life from me, from all of us.”
“Look, we all hope he’s brought to justice someday. My husband wanted Bucky run out of town immediately because he didn’t want to involve Alexa in any protracted prosecution, you know, just get him out of the picture for good type of thing. But I hear the police are onto his scent anyway, he’ll be brought in soon enough. But remember, you were always a little tentative about him; you weren’t as clueless as you let on. I remember our first car ride to that exercise class. You told me then you were taking it super slow,” Julia reminded her. “You didn’t wait idly for his calls. When he didn’t get in touch, you were more pissed than whimpering in the cottage. Don’t forget that sense of caution you felt.”
“I wish I’d listened to that a little more,” Katie said, looking down. “I’m not the kind of person that doubts myself and I was constantly questioning something—not about coming here, but about coming for him.”
“Exactly my point. You never fully committed to coming here for him, you always knew something was up.” Julia stopped in the sand and grabbed Katie’s shoulders and stared her down. “So just leave it at that. You’re a brave woman who battles the wind, salt, and waves on that windsurf. You shield your son on your own like a warrior. All on your own.
“I can’t imagine raising a child without Jake’s help. He knew something serious was up with Alexa the night of our Memorial Day party. Way before I figured it out. And he took action.”
“That’s for sure.” Katie shook her head at the memory of Jake explaining to six officers how to take a man down.
“I don’t know how you do it all without a father for him, but he’s a great, happy kid,” said Julia. “With this change to another coast, you took a chance. Now it’s time to move on and sink deep in, but not so slowly you lose Luke in the process.”
Katie shook her head confidently. “He’s not going anywhere. He’s loyal. He makes his wishes very clear.”
“He’s so open and direct with the kids, and I’m sure to his students,” Julia answered. “So I can see that. But, most importantly, he’s kind to you and Huck.”
“And how’s Alexa?” asked Katie.
“S
he’s calmer, thank God,” Julia answered, looking out at the sea as if to summon an otherworldly force to support her. “We’re trying, Jake and I are on it like you can’t imagine. He’s so good with her, and she tells him everything. I know Jake seems crazy, but there’s nothing like it when he shines his love on you. I can tell she’s happy to remember that her parents have her back, now that we understand how far she could go if we weren’t watching as carefully as we should have been. She’s going to be fine, just, Jesus, it was all a little hard to accept.”
“Of course she is. And with all that’s going on, you’re so good to come out just for me.”
Julia kicked her couture winter boots in the sand, the salt-and-pepper laces picking up the colors in her gray hunting jacket. “I’d like to say it was just for you, but . . .”
“Oh, God. Julia. Tell me.”
“I had to talk to Kona. In person. It was just too mean on some level.”
“Mean? Kona’s got like four hundred women he’s shuffling, though, I don’t think he. . . .”
“It was mean to Jake. Kona goes on and on texting me proposals, with this Kipona Aloha bullshit, which means ‘deep love no one else can penetrate’ or something. He probably cuts and pastes the same texts to several women at once.”
“So what did you say to him this morning that changed any of that?”
“I told him to stop. This past summer, I just wanted to screw with his head a little because I thought he deserved it. Then, I started liking the game a little.”
It Happens in the Hamptons Page 31