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)

by Michael Lindley

  “Hello, little brother,” he said with a slow, muffled voice.

  Jonathan saw an empty pint of whiskey at his brother’s side and another in his free hand. He didn’t know what to say or what to do, then a growing anger came over him. “Luke, you need to tell me how you could have done this?”

  Luke put the bottle to his mouth and threw his head back, taking a long drink. He grimaced as the whiskey burned. “Some things are just meant to happen, little brother.”

  “You killed her, Luke!”

  “From the day I was born, I’ve been headed t’wards this, Johnny.”

  “That’s bullshit, Luke. We all have choices.”

  Luke struggled to his feet, stuffing the bottle in the front of his pants. He staggered over and leaned against a bench filled with tools. “You gotta help me get outta here, Johnny.”

  Jonathan felt a pain rip through his gut. How many times had he wished his brother would have asked for his help, or accepted his help? “I can’t do anything about this, Luke. It’s gone too far.”

  Luke grabbed the bottle and held it out for Jonathan, an offering across the wide divide of two brothers torn apart. Jonathan shook his head no and watched as his brother took another drink.

  “You know Pop and me could just never see eye to eye,” Luke said slowly, as if he was only half-conscious. “I never could measure up for that old sonofabitch!”

  Jonathan just stood and listened, his thoughts racing on, thinking about what he could do for his brother.

  “So now the old bastard’s gone, and you and Mom are stuck with this piece a shit boatyard. So, big war hero, you ever think you’d be varnishin’ boats here for the rest of your life?”

  “Luke, why don’t we go in and get some coffee and we’ll talk to Mom, and then you and me can go downtown.”

  “I’m not goin’ ta jail, Johnny…” he mumbled. “I’m not gonna rot in any damned jail!” He took another drink. “You and that Compton girl… she’s quite a piece of ass, Johnny. Too bad your ass is gonna be stuck here in this boathouse and she’ll be off to the big city. You know, I coulda killed her too, last night.”

  “Luke, put the bottle down. I’m gonna drive you down to the sheriff’s office.” Jonathan moved closer to take the bottle away.

  Luke placed the bottle down on the tool bench and staggered a bit to keep his balance. He reached out for something else that lay on the bench.

  Jonathan saw him turn and stood frozen as his brother lashed out, a big pipe wrench in his hand. He put his arms up to block the blow, but he was too late and felt the sharp pain shoot through his shoulder and heard the sound of cracking bone. He staggered back holding his shoulder, trying to keep his head up. The second blow seemed to come from nowhere and caught him across the side of the head. He felt like his head was exploding, and then he staggered as his consciousness clouded over and he felt himself falling.

  Fragments of images crept back into his brain. A crushing pain ached in his head and his arm as he opened his eyes. He saw stars above him and realized he was lying in the dirt outside the boathouse. He tried to sit up, but the pain pushed him back down into the dirt. He sensed a strange smell and then realized it was smoke. He lifted himself up on his good arm enough to look over at the boathouse. Through the open doors he saw the light of flames flickering against the inside walls. Smoke was just beginning to seep out through the top of the door, wafting up through the clear sky.

  Then, there was a small explosion inside and the flames burst out across the floor of the big building and quickly spread to the far wall. In the light of the flames and the big light overhead, Jonathan saw the tracks from his legs being dragged through the dirt out from the boathouse. He tried to get to his feet again, but couldn’t stand the pain shooting through his body.

  The flames were now rolling out the top of the open doorway and up the face of the building. The door was almost totally engulfed.

  “Luke!” he yelled out helplessly. “Luke, where are you!”

  A window on the side of boathouse exploded loudly from the heat of the flames.

  He heard his mother’s voice off in the distance. “Jonathan, Jonathan… oh my God!” she yelled and he saw her running down the path from the house. Then, he sensed movement and turned to see Luke standing in the doorway of the big boathouse. His face was illuminated from the flames. He stood there with the whiskey bottle in his hand.

  His mother came up beside Jonathan and knelt next to him, horror on her face from the shock of the fire and the blood all over her son’s face. She saw her oldest son in the doorway and yelled, “No… Luke!”

  Jonathan watched as a strange smile came across his brother’s face. He looked on helplessly as Luke took another drink from the whiskey bottle and then he turned and threw it into the burning building. He started walking through the door, slowly at first, dragging his bad leg along. He was just a few feet into the building when there was another loud explosion from inside. Luke looked up as a large piece of the rafters, roaring in flames, crashed down on his head. He crumbled under its weight and lay trapped, motionless beneath it.

  Jonathan’s mother screamed a sickening wail and he watched as his brother’s clothes caught fire. Within moments, another large piece of the roof came crashing down in flames and sparks, and Luke was lost in the growing inferno.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Gwen Roberts came up the walk to Sally’s house. It was just past eight in the morning and the sun was coming up through the trees across the street. The porch light had been left on from the night before. The door was unlocked and she walked in.

  She stood for a moment, taking in the familiar feel of her friend’s home. Listening for sounds of Sally, in the kitchen, or maybe upstairs; she heard only a few birds squawking out on the back patio through an open window. Walking back to the sun porch, she looked out over the early morning calm of Lake Michigan. A half empty glass of wine rested on a table next to the couch. A lamp was still turned on.

  Then, she heard a floor board creak from upstairs. She turned and walked down the hall and up the steps. Looking into the bedroom, she saw the bed had not been slept in. She noticed the door in the back to Sally’s studio was open and a light was on.

  As she walked through the door into the studio, she saw Sally standing in front of a painting resting on an easel. Her back was to Gwen and she hadn’t noticed her walking in.

  “Good morning,” Gwen said quietly, trying not to startle her.

  Sally turned and simply said, “Hi.”

  As Sally moved away from the easel, Gwen saw she was working on the portrait of her daughter, Ellen. The soft smile of the young girl looked back from the canvas. “She’s so beautiful,” Gwen said.

  Sally looked back at the painting. “I had to finish this,” she said simply.

  Gwen walked over and stood by the canvas, looking at Sally. “I heard Alex and Megan are leaving this afternoon.”

  Sally nodded, still staring at the painting.

  Chapter Thirty

  News traveled fast through the small town of Charlevoix that my sister and her unborn child’s killer was also dead. Luke McKendry had taken his own life in his final act.

  The fire in the boathouse spread to two outbuildings and destroyed them all, sparing only the small apartment residence that was the McKendry’s home. Several large boats were also lost before the firefighters could arrive and bring the blaze under control.

  As the sun came up that next morning, a large black cloud of smoke still hung low over the waters of Round Lake and up into the town. Many walked from town to view the destruction, or passed by the docks in their boats. The charred rubble stood in stark contrast against the hillside thick with trees and adjoining houses and boathouses.

  Jonathan had been brought into the hospital shortly after the fire department arrived. His arm was badly broken and he had a serious head wound across the back of his skull. They rolled him into my room at about six that morning. He was still unconscious from
the anesthetic. Emily had arrived earlier and told me about the night’s horrible series of events while Jonathan was in surgery to repair his arm.

  Luke McKendry had taken so much from all of us. In the end, perhaps not without purpose, he also gave new hope.

  A week after the fire, Jonathan stood in the small bathroom of the McKendry home and looked at himself in the mirror. His mother tied his tie for him since his left arm was immobile in a large cast up to his shoulder, resting in a sling around his neck. The stitches in the back of his head were mostly covered now by his hair. He was wearing the pants and sports jacket he had worn back in Ann Arbor when he went out to dinner with Emily Compton. With the cast, he was only able to wear one sleeve and he had draped the coat over his other shoulder.

  He still felt a little unsteady on his feet. He had been in bed almost the entire week since the fire trying to regain his strength and allow his body to heal. He woke in the hospital to find both George and Emily there waiting for him. George had been released later that day and had come by the house each day since Jonathan had been home to check in on his friend. Emily had also been by his side and had been helping his mother care for him.

  He felt a nervous hollow feeling as he thought about the coming evening. Emily had invited him to attend a party with her family on the EmmaLee. The thought of facing her parents and their friends was not something he had been looking forward to. She had insisted he needed to get out and move beyond the events of the past weeks. He also knew her father had been furious with Emily for hiring a lawyer and going so far to help him. He worried he would be on display all night, standing out as some poor freak.

  Emily told him she would pick him up at six. He still wasn’t able to drive. He heard her car coming down the drive and he went out into the kitchen and hugged his mother with his one free arm. She smiled back at him.

  “You have a nice time with all those fancy people tonight,” she said. “Watch your manners.”

  “I just hope I don’t fall overboard. I’m still a bit tipsy.”

  “You’ll do just fine,” she encouraged.

  He kissed her on the cheek and went out the back door.

  Emily was waiting by the car, holding the passenger door open. He walked up to her and tried his best to return her warm hug.

  “Are you sure this is what you want tonight?” he asked.

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  Her smiled warmed him and reassured him, just a little.

  As they made their way

  slowly down the walk to the ship, Jonathan leaned heavily on Emily for support, both physically and emotionally. The great ship lay ahead, resting calming in the harbor waters of Round Lake, tied securely to the pier alongside the Compton’s boathouse. Lights had been strung high above the deck in the riggings and she seemed lit up like a Christmas tree in all her glory.

  Two crew members met them at the gangway along with other guests who were arriving. Jonathan thought back to the day when he had been doused by the swab bucket of two of EmmaLee’s crew as he walked by. It seemed a thousand years ago now after all that had happened.

  Looking up at the top of the ramp, Jonathan saw Emily’s parents meeting guests as they came onboard ship. All he could think was to try to remain calm and not do anything to embarrass Emily. Mr. Compton saw them coming up the ramp. His glare was less than welcoming.

  “Father, I know you’ve met Jonathan McKendry when we got my boat a few summers ago,” Emily began.

  Jonathan reached out his hand and the elder Compton slowly put his hand out. He looked directly into Jonathan’s eyes with a piercing gaze. His grip was crushing. Jonathan returned the favor.

  “Yes, McKendry. Sorry to hear about your father. Our deepest sympathies.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Compton, I…”

  Compton turned to his side, “I’d like you to meet my wife. Honey, Emily’s friend, Jonathan McKendry.”

  She turned from the couple she had just been talking to. “Well, Mr. McKendry, you’ve had quite a summer,” she said. “I must say we were quite relieved to hear you had been exonerated in that horrible case.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Compton. It was awful for everyone involved. I’m just glad it’s behind us now. Your daughter has been a tremendous help for me and for my family.”

  “Yes, she certainly has,” Stewart Compton said sternly.

  “Daddy, please…” Emily scolded.

  “You both have a good time tonight,” her mother said. “We’ll see you a bit later for dinner.”

  Emily guided him past and they made their way over to a bar set up on the foredeck. She picked up a glass of wine and a beer for Jonathan. They walked across the smooth teak deck of the ship to the far rail, looking out over Round Lake and the many boats at anchor, or tied up at the docks around the lake.

  She raised her wine glass in a toast, “To freedom and new beginnings.”

  “Amen.” They touched glasses and took a drink.

  “Have you talked to your mother about the business, after the fire and all?”

  Jonathan looked down the lake to the charred remains of his family’s business.

  “I’m afraid we’re not going to be in business anymore,” he said, turning back to her.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Jonathan raised his glass again, “Like you said, to new beginnings.”

  “Jonathan?”

  “My father had a good insurance policy on the business. We’ve decided to sell the property and what’s left of the business. My mother is going to move down to Detroit to live with her sister and help take care of her kids. There will be enough money for her to live comfortably for a very long time.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said and paused letting her smile slip away. “And what will you be doing?”

  “There will also be enough money for me to go to school along with money from the Navy. I’m going to enroll in the engineering program down at Michigan this fall.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “I am so excited for you and your mother. And how did you happen to decide on the University of Michigan?” She smiled.

  “You see, I have this guardian angel who lives most of the year down in Ann Arbor. I thought I would make it more convenient for her to take care of me.”

  They both laughed and brought their glasses up again in another toast.

  “Jonathan, I can’t tell you how excited I am about this,” Emily said.

  “Yeah, well wait until your parents hear about it.”

  “I’ll take care of my parents.”

  Music started playing from the rear of the ship. They turned and saw a small band set up along the stern rail. They also saw Connor Harris making his way across the deck towards them.

  “Oh great,” Jonathan whispered.

  Conner was dressed in dark slacks and a white dinner jacket. His hair was combed wet straight back. He had a drink in his left hand. He still walked with a slight hesitation from the head injury he received from Luke McKendry those many summers ago.

  “Ah, the guest of honor. McKendry, you clean up pretty good,” Connor said. “I must say you look a lot better than in those prison stripes.”

  “Connor, let’s not start,” said Emily, moving between the two of them.

  “So, it was your brother all along,” he said. “That boy just had a mean streak. Damn near killed me, too.”

  “Connor, that’s enough!” Emily shouted.

  Jonathan moved around Emily to face Connor Harris. “You think running around with his girlfriend helped the situation?”

  “I thought she was your girl,” Connor said, laughing.

  “Connor!” Emily jumped between them again.

  Jonathan felt his anger burn hot. He tried to keep calm. He had promised himself he wouldn’t embarrass Emily. “Harris, if you have anything else to say about this to me personally, I would be glad to get together later tonight to… discuss things.”

  His tone was perfectly clear to Connor Harris. “Oh,
I’m through discussing things with you McKendry boys. A person could get himself killed.” He laughed and walked away.

  Jonathan stood there shaking his head, letting his anger settle. He noticed several of the guests on deck were staring at him and then whispering among each other. He thought about all the times he had wished he could be up on this ship with Emily Compton. Now, here he was and everything seemed to be heading towards trouble.

  Emily interrupted his thoughts, “I’ve been friends with Connor Harris since I was a little girl coming up here to Charlevoix. Our parents are best friends. I just keep asking myself how I ever saw him for anything other than a total asshole!”

  Jonathan turned in shock, “Emily, what kind of talk is that for a lady?” He started laughing out loud and she joined in.

  Later at dinner, twenty guests were seated around the long mahogany table in the dining cabin. Servants hovered, bringing in the many courses of food, keeping wine glasses full. Stuart Compton sat at the head of the table with his wife to his left. Emily was at his other side with Jonathan sitting next to her. Jonathan had met many of the other guests as they were all asked to come below for dinner. Most had been polite, but clearly uncomfortable meeting the young man who only a few days before had been in jail on charges of rape and murder. They also weren’t used to a “local” being on the guest list for any of their parties.

  Emily kept her smile and good spirits up, in spite of the other guests. She was doing all she could to make Jonathan comfortable and allow him to try to enjoy himself. She had showed him around the ship earlier. He had been fascinated by the bridge and all of the controls and mechanisms. The captain had taken him through, explaining the ship’s workings.