“I feel so badly about putting you in this position, about forcing my way into your life,” he said. “But on the other hand, I’m so grateful we’ve had this chance to come together and to get to know each other. I just want to take the time we both need to work through all this.”
She felt overwhelmed by the conflicts in her mind and in her life. It was too much to sort through on this night, at this small table. She thought about Gwen and where she might be tonight and what she must be thinking and trying to work through. She felt an incredible guilt for what she was doing to this woman who she had loved for so many years. She found herself trembling a bit. “I just don’t know, Alex. There are no easy answers here.”
“I know.”
“You’re being terrific about everything and it would be so easy to just keep flying down this roller coaster ride together with you, but…”
“I’ll tell you what,” he interrupted. “Let’s try to leave the ‘buts’ behind us for a few more days.”
Sally noticed someone approaching. She turned to see two women making their way around the tables toward them. She recognized them and waved as they came closer. They were two friends she and Gwen had met years ago in the gallery. Friendships had developed and they had remained close for many years. Fran and Susan lived together and owned a sportswear shop here in Leland. Sally knew at once how awkward this was going to be.
“I thought that was you, Sally,” said the tall brunette woman. She was dressed casually in tan linen shorts and a peach polo shirt with a white sweater around her neck. “Fran, how are you?” said Sally, standing to greet her friends. “Hi Susan.” She gave them both a hug and kiss on the cheek. Susan was taller with reddish brown hair. She wore a navy workout suit with a golf hat that said ‘Arcadia Bluffs’. “Ladies, this is my friend, Alex Clark.”
Alex was also standing as they came up and he reached out his hand to both of them. “Very nice to meet you,” he said.
Susan let her hand linger in his. “Would you be the owner of that fabulous boat offshore there?”
“Yes, that’s the EmmaLee. We’ve been out on the big lake cruising for a few days.”
“Sally, we heard your grandfather’s boat was up in Charlevoix for the festival,” said Fran. “She’s magnificent, Alex. How long have you owned her?”
“I’ve just recently had her restored and this is her first trip out from the East Coast. Can you two join us for a glass of wine?” he offered, motioning to the two empty chairs at their table.
Fran and Susan shared glances at each other, then Fran said, “Only if we won’t be intruding too much.”
“Not at all,” Alex replied. “Please,” he said pulling out a chair for her. They all sat down and Alex motioned for the server to bring another bottle of the wine they had been drinking and two more glasses.
Sally was trying to make herself comfortable with this gathering of old and new friends. How long now until they ask about Gwen?
“So, Alex, tell us how you’ve come to meet our Sally here?” asked Susan.
“We were introduced when we arrived in Charlevoix last week. Sally’s been nice enough to share some of her family’s history with the ship with my daughter Megan and me while we’ve been up here. I asked Sally to join us for this little cruise down the lake this week so she could spend some more time on her grandfather’s old ship.”
Fran had a devilish look in her eye that Sally recognized. “And where is your daughter… and Mrs. Clark?” she asked.
“Fran, please,” injected Sally. “What’s with the inquisition of the poor man?”
“It’s fine, Sally,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand and reassure her. The two new guests couldn’t help but stare at their intimacy. “Megan decided to stay onboard tonight. I think she’s getting homesick. I couldn’t pry her away from the internet and her friends on instant messaging. And my wife… my wife passed away a few years back.”
Fran was obviously terribly embarrassed. “Alex, I’m so sorry…” she offered.
“No really, you couldn’t have known.”
The wine arrived and Alex supervised the tasting and offered to pour for everyone. “So, you are all old friends?” he asked.
Susan answered after tasting her wine. “Fran and I were up in Charlevoix shopping years ago and we stopped into Sally and Gwen’s gallery. We were so taken with their collection we ended up talking for hours and having dinner later that night. We’ve all been friends ever since.”
At the mention of Gwen’s name, Sally looked over at Alex to see his reaction, but she detected no change in expression as he listened intently to Susan’s story. Sally wondered suddenly how coincidental this meeting seemed to be, or was it? Leland was a small enough town it was very likely for them all to run into each other. She couldn’t help but wonder though, whether this had all been somehow orchestrated.
“Speaking of Gwen,” Fran said, “we just heard from her the other day. She was back in New York visiting, as you know. She called to see if we might be able to sneak away to the city for a few days. You know how the summer season is though, don’t you Sally?”
Clearly, they knew everything that was going on, Sally thought to herself.
“How is your summer going?” Sally said, trying to change the subject. “How is the shop doing?”
“Probably our best season ever,” Fran answered. “This town just seems to attract more and more people every year.”
“Are you open year-round up here?” Alex asked.
“Yes, but we have another shop down in Sarasota and we head south in the fall,” answered Fran. “Winter is dreadful here. We have a local girl who runs the shop for us while we’re away.”
“What a nice arrangement,” he said. “The gulf coast of Florida is beautiful.”
“Yes,” said Susan, “we’re already looking forward to getting down there.”
There was a momentary lull in the conversation and they all tasted their wine.
“I see you’re sampling some of our local vintage,” said Susan.
“Yes, it’s quite nice and I understand you have several good vineyards up this way.”
“If you could stay over tomorrow, we’d love to take you on a wine tour. It’s beautiful country and the wine’s not bad either,” offered Fran.
“No, Alex needs to get back to Charlevoix,” said Sally, almost too quickly. “He has someone coming in for a meeting.”
“Oh, that is too bad.” said Fran. “Maybe on your next cruise through the area?”
“Thank you,” he said. “Hopefully, we’ll be back again next summer.” He looked over at Sally with a grin. He looked at his watch. “You know, it’s not too late. Would you two like to come out to the ship for a tour and maybe another glass of wine?” he offered.
Sally felt like kicking him under the table, but she knew he was just being polite.
Fran and Susan looked at each other and without hesitation, nodded enthusiastically.
After they finished their dinner, the launch was waiting for them at the docks. Alex helped the three women onboard. As they approached the EmmaLee, her lights and profile shined brilliantly on the still water. Flags were still flying and soft music could be heard coming from the bridge. Sally listened to her friends converse with Alex as he described the work that had to be done on the ship. They both seemed to be handling all of this quite well considering they had probably gotten an earful from Gwen about her partner’s infatuation with the handsome rich guy. She just hoped to herself they would continue to behave themselves. She knew they both had a devious sense of humor.
The stairs were lowered alongside the hull of the ship and they all made their way up to the deck. Alex sent one of the crew off to fetch a bottle of champagne to be taken to the rear deck. He was told that Megan had turned in for the evening.
With glasses full of sparkling wine, Alex led the three ladies throughout the ship on an extensive tour, relating more history of the vessel and weaving in stories of t
he Compton family he had learned since arriving in Charlevoix. He was taking so much time that Sally was beginning to get the idea he was trying to avoid being alone with her again tonight. He probably needs as much time as I do to sort all of this out.
When the tour was finally complete they returned to the deck of the EmmaLee and a carafe of coffee was waiting for them on the serving table. They each helped themselves and sat down in a semi-circle in the large cushioned deck chairs. The sky was clear and even with the ambient light of the ship, they could see stars shining brightly overhead and a thin slice of a crescent moon coming up over the hills onshore, reflecting back to them on the water.
They all sat in silence for a few moments enjoying the quiet and the spectacular view. Fran broke the stillness, “You are a wonderful host, Mr. Clark.”
“Thank you, Fran. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you and Susan tonight.”
“Sally, did you tell Alex about the tradition we have up here in the North Country on clear starlit nights?” Fran continued.
“Tradition?” Sally asked, thinking this could only be trouble.
“Well, I’ve already survived the Venetian Festival. What else can you locals throw at me?” Alex asked.
Susan picked up the conversation. “Alex, we believe that on a night like this, swimming in the nude has marvelous medicinal powers.”
“You mean skinny-dipping?” he answered.
“You two clearly need more wine,” Sally said.
“Come on, Sally,” said Fran, “you know how good it is for the mind and body.”
“So, this is a regular event for you all up here?” he asked Sally, laughing.
“I wouldn’t describe it as a regular ritual, but it’s safe to say we’ve taken a dip or two, purely for medicinal value,” she said, unable to hold back a smile.
“Well, I’m certainly game,” Alex said. “We’ve been known to take a dip or two out east you know. The good thing is, we don’t have to worry about sharks here in the fresh water.” He got up and brought the coffee pot around to fill everyone’s cups. “Now I’m not a particularly shy person, but I really don’t know you all that well, yet. How would you propose that we all, ah ….get wet.”
Susan jumped in with her best southern drawl, “We assume you’re a gentleman, Alex, and will give us ladies a head start while you avert your eyes.”
“And what about you when it’s my turn?” he said.
“You can count on us to do the right thing,” Susan answered.
Alex put the coffee pot down and went over to an intercom system on the wall. He ordered a supply of towels, robes and float cushions be brought up on deck.
“You all are absolutely crazy,” Sally finally said in disbelief. “Do you know how cold that water is going to be tonight?”
“It will feel wonderful, Sal,” Fran answered. “Warmer than the air. You’ll see.”
The towels and such arrived and the crewman disappeared down below again. Alex turned his deck chair around to face the rear of the ship. “Ladies first. I won’t look until I hear three splashes.”
Sally watched as her friends picked up a towel and float and began walking up along the side rail. She shook her head and followed along. Why the hell not!
The three women found a darker shadowy spot along the cabin wall and all disrobed quickly, wrapping themselves in the big white towels and moving over to an open section of the rail near the stairs. Fran went first, throwing her towel down on the stairs and her cushion well out into the dark black of the water, and then jumping with a wild holler out into the air, naked arms, legs and other parts flying in all directions. Sally and Susan couldn’t help but laugh and had to hold their sides as they watched their friend splash down into the chilly dark abyss.
“That’s one!” they heard Alex yell from the back of the ship.
Fran popped up to the surface and they could just make out her form in the dim lights from the ship. “Oh, it’s marvelous, hurry up you two.”
Sally looked at Susan, reached for her hand and they both ran together jumping out into the night, their towels dropping behind them on the stairway. Their screams and splashes echoed out through the darkness.
Sally came back up to the surface and was amazed at the comfortable temperature of the water. She heard Alex calling out, “I’m not sure if that was two or three, but here I come.” She saw him walk to the open rail with a towel around his waist. “Well, I don’t hear any screams of pain, so I assume it’s not absolutely ice cold.”
“Alex, it’s wonderful. Hurry up and get in here,” Sally coaxed. She let the cool of the water and the giddiness of the night wash over her. “Come on now!”
“I can see three pairs of eyes staring up out of the darkness at me now. You all do the right thing and turn toward shore,” he admonished.
Sally found her float and rested her arms across it. She paddled over next to Fran and Susan and they all laughed and turned away at the same time. Sally heard Alex’s scream and then moments later felt his splash as he landed just a few feet away. He came up with his hair swept back and a huge grin across his face.
“Yeeow!” he yelled. “Now I’m awake! Wow, does that feel good!”
“Didn’t we tell you?” Fran said.
“Alex, you’re going to wake up the whole ship and the town,” Sally scolded.
They all formed a circle, resting their arms on their cushions and kicking their legs softly. “What time does the coast guard run their patrol through these waters?” Alex pondered with a smile. “I can see the headlines…Ship’s Skipper Arrested with Three Naked Women.”
“You could do worse things to your reputation, Alex Clark,” Sally said and laughed. She realized she hadn’t felt this crazy and unburdened in years. She threw her head back and washed the hair away from her face and looked through the darkness at this man named Alex Clark.
Chapter Twenty-four
Albert Truegood was an eighty-two-year-old Native American who had lived in Charlevoix his whole life. I’d been told his ancestors had been in the area for hundreds of years. He lived out north of town in the woods in a small shack in behind the dunes.
He had worked odd jobs most of his life, sometimes more steady over at the lumberyard down in Boyne. He kept mostly to himself, even on the nights he walked down to Lee’s Bar to have some beers. No one could ever remember him causing any trouble, but in those days, well, he was just different and most people gave him a wide berth.
When he came forward and told what he’d seen that night on Bridge Street with my sister, people at first weren’t inclined to believe him. Sheriff Potts himself told me the man might just be making up a story to cover his own crime. I reminded the sheriff there was no good reason for him to come forward if Jonathan was already going to take the blame, unless he was just damn crazy.
For a while, that’s what most people thought.
Sheriff Potts had completed his second long interview in two days with Albert Truegood and had just let him leave. Emily Compton and David Krupp now sat with the portly sheriff in his office along with the county prosecutor. The sheriff’s cigar sat half gone and smoldering in a dirty ashtray. The single window in the office had an old blind with layers of dust letting very little light through.
“Did you learn anything more about the car, or who may have been inside?” Krupp asked.
He shook his head, “No, and there’s a lot of big black cars in this town.”
The prosecutor, Andy Neeland, leaned forward, “Sheriff, what makes you think this old man is even telling the truth?”
“Well, I’ve known Albert since I was just a kid around town here and I’ve never known him to be anything but an honorable man… poor, mind you, but honest.”
“You don’t think he’s trying to cover his own guilt?” the prosecutor continued.
“Hell no! Catherine Hansen could run away from the old man, even as drunk as she apparently was that night. Albert don’t move much past a snail’s pace these days.”
Krupp broke in, “Sheriff Potts, I know you don’t have another suspect identified yet, but I’m going to ask you again why you can’t release Jonathan McKendry. It’s perfectly clear to see he had nothing to do with this.”
Neeland pounced, “It certainly is not anywhere close to clear. We’ve got an old man who’s been drinking all night; sees a car pull up and take the girl away. He can’t identify the car or the driver. We also have Bud, the bartender down at The Helm who’s told us McKendry and the girl argued at the bar that night when she told him she was pregnant with his brother’s baby. That spells motive. He had opportunity and we sure as hell don’t have anything else solid to consider.”
“So, you think Truegood’s lying?” asked Emily.
“I think there’s just as good a chance he was too drunk to remember what he saw. The bartender over at Lee’s said he had at least six beers and probably a few before he got there,” answered Neeland.
“I’m afraid the boy stays locked up until the preliminary hearing next Monday,” Sheriff Potts said with finality.
Emily Compton walked through the side door into the kitchen of their house. She could see her parents out front on the porch drinking some tea. She thought about heading straight to her room to avoid another confrontation, but her mother saw her through the window and waved for her to come out.
When she got out on the porch, she noticed Connor Harris was sitting there with her parents sharing some iced tea.
“Hello dear,” her mother said. “I thought you’d like to say hello to Connor.”
Connor jumped right in, “Hello, Emily. I wanted to stop over and see how you were holding up through all of this McKendry mess.”
Emily bristled. “This is not a McKendry mess at all and you know that,” she said, not trying to hide the irritation she felt.
The Seasons of the EmmaLee: One grand ship. Two love affairs, decades apart. An idyllic summer resort town torn apart by betrayal, murder and shattered dreams. (The Charlevoix Summer Series Book 1) Page 23