by Jodi Thomas
“What’s wrong?” I knew he wouldn’t be here unless something had happened. Willie liked to fish after dark, but even he wouldn’t have gone out tonight.
“Trouble,” he yelled as he tugged off his hat. “I didn’t know where else to go. I thought you might could get a fire going out by the dock, but in this rain it’s not likely.”
“What trouble?” I said the words slow as if I could keep whatever it was smaller.
Willie scrubbed his hand across his face. “I found Timothy’s boat bashed against the north shore. The little motor he uses when he’s out late was still running.”
My first thought was that the boy had finally decided to fall in, but that didn’t make sense. He rowed out every day to think about killing himself, Luke said. But tonight he’d used a motor because the water was so rough. A man who had all day to fall in wouldn’t hook up a motor so he could do it in the middle of a storm.
Tonight he’d looked happier than I’d ever seen him. He’d even teased Mrs. Deals about getting fat because the old lady had asked for a big slice of the second round of Nana’s pie.
“Maybe it just came untied?” I said. The instant the words were out of my mouth I knew they didn’t make sense. No one ties a boat up with the motor running.
At least, that’s what I think. But, then again, I don’t think there is a manual for suicide on water.
“No, it didn’t come loose from nowhere.” Willie shook his head, swishing water like a dog. “He ties it up here under your dock when the wind gets up as he’s afraid it won’t stay on that broken-down dock of his. Tonight, he took Mrs. Deals home. I almost offered my motorboat because I could see the storm just waiting on the edge of the horizon and that little motor he has ain’t much more powerful than a mixer.”
“Maybe he’s still at her place?” I glanced at the clock by the register. After midnight. Not likely.
Willie confirmed, “No, I stopped by her place and woke her up. She said he left there hours ago. She said the wind was getting up and she told him to stay close to the shore and circle around the dam instead of crossing the lake.”
I nodded as if the plan made sense. “Maybe he flipped the boat and swam to shore.”
Willie shook his head. “I checked his house. No one is there. Plus…”
Luke came through the kitchen door from the back and finished Willie’s sentence, “…Timothy can’t swim.”
The vision of Timothy’s sad eyes closing as his body drifted down into black water crossed my mind and I blinked as if I could keep more bad thoughts out. “We have to do something.”
Luke nodded in agreement. “Willie, pull a life jacket on and get that spotlight out of the shed. We’ll cross to the north shore and start following the path he would have taken.”
“Could he have had a vest on?” I could picture him, wet and frightened as he bobbed in the water.
“Might have.” Willie pulled his hat back on as he moved to the door. “Mrs. Deals makes me wear one when she rides with me. If he had it in his boat, he may have used it.”
Luke met my eyes. “I’ve never seen him wear one.” He didn’t turn away, but shared my fears even though neither of us said more.
An old Cadillac pulled in from the road. We all stood on the porch and watched as Mrs. Deals and Mary Lynn climbed out. Mrs. Deals looked like death’s grandmother in her black cape of a raincoat and black galoshes. Mary Lynn wore a bright pink slicker and mustard yellow boots over her stretch pants.
Mary Lynn ran around to hold an umbrella over Mrs. Deals as they sloshed through the mud. The rain was coming in sheets now.
“What’s being done?” Mrs. Deals shouted as she moved into the store. “We can’t leave that boy out in this.” She looked straight at me. “Get all the lights turned on in this place, girl. If we can’t build a fire it’ll be the next best thing.”
I jumped into action.
Luke swore under his breath as if he considered the women far more bother than help. “We’re going out to search. Don’t worry. He probably pulled to shore when the storm got bad and didn’t tie the boat down. We’ll find him standing somewhere waiting for a ride.”
No one believed him.
“If he did, he’s somewhere along that stretch where the fire was, and there ain’t no one out there.” Willie tried the next lie. “There’s a good chance if he was following the shoreline that he wasn’t in water over his head even if the boat flipped. Most places along the north shore there’s fifty feet before the shallow falls off.”
“Not at the dam.” Mrs. Deals snorted.
I’d seen the dam. The water looked deep there and the dam was too high for a man to pull up on. Anyone in the water along that side would have to swim. Even if Timothy could swim, I wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to cross to land in choppy water.
Luke grabbed Willie’s arm and pulled him into the office. I heard him whisper, “We may have another problem, Willie.”
I moved closer so I could hear better.
Luke looked at me as if trying to push me back with a stare.
“I’m staying,” I said as I straightened, daring him to try to shove me away.
He growled, but continued, “I think that fire was set by men making drugs. If Timothy made it to shore, he might have stumbled upon more trouble than the storm.”
To my surprise, Willie looked like he was following Luke’s logic. “I got a flare gun in my boat. I’ll keep it ready. If there’s any trouble of that kind I’ll stay out of the way and let you handle it.”
Luke nodded once. “Then we go. Drugs or no drugs, Tim might need our help tonight.”
He turned to me. “You stay here. If the rain stops, try to find enough dry wood to start a fire.”
He moved to the door without looking at me again, but when he passed, his hand slid along my back in a light touch no one else would have noticed.
“Stay put folks, we’ll find him.” Luke raised his voice to all of us. “Have coffee and blankets ready. If we’re not back in an hour, drive over to Mrs. Deals’s place and call the sheriff. Tell him we need a team out here.”
“I already thought of that. The storm knocked my phone out.” Mrs. Deals looked angry. “Find that boy.”
Luke nodded once and followed Willie out.
I felt helpless. All I didn’t understand would fill a moon crater. Why had Willie said he’d step aside and let Luke handle trouble? How did Luke know about the drugs?
We all huddled around a table and drank coffee. Mary Lynn’s dog yelped when Paul pulled up in his Jeep. He’d remembered Willie talking about signaling with a light and came as soon as he spotted it on the lake. With his hair uncombed and wearing an old pair of jeans, he almost looked like he belonged among the Nesters.
As the storm pelted the windows, I washed new thermoses and filled them with coffee. Fishermen drifted in, drawn first to the light on the lake, and then the lights at Jefferson’s Crossing. Those who had motors on their fishing boats paired up and headed out to crisscross the lake. All were familiar with the danger of being on the lake, even with the storm dying. All wanted to help.
“I’ve got to do something,” Paul said as the third search team left. “I’m doing no good here.”
“No,” Mary Lynn whispered. “You don’t know the lake well enough.”
He touched her shoulder. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll be in no danger, Mary. I can drive back and forth over the dam road. If he did get tossed out of the boat, he probably made it to shore and decided to walk home. I can pick him up along the road and be right back here.”
When I handed him a thermos, he whispered, “Stay with Mary Lynn. She’s worried about the boy.”
“I promise.”
Once he closed the door, the air in the store seemed heavy with worry. I sat with the women, feeling jumpy. Finally, my eyes met Mary Lynn’s stare.
“We have to help,” she whispered. “I know of one place to look that has not been covered by the boats or Paul’s car on the road. I
f Timothy did make it to shore, he might be by the old lodge, and if the men making drugs tried one cabin, they might try another. If he stumbled in on them, they might not kill him, but leave him tied up. Or he could be hurt, unable to see Willie’s light or make it to the road to flag down Paul.”
She’d thought of even more bad news than I had.
“We could go look, but neither of us can handle a boat across the lake at night, even if we had one,” I answered.
“Take my car,” Mrs. Deals snapped.
“But that road down to the cabins is terrible. It would probably ruin a car.”
She shrugged. “I need a new one anyway. Take it. There are flares in the trunk. Set one off if you find him and the men will see it.”
“Then I’m going.” Mary Lynn stood.
I ran for my clothes. “I promised Paul I’d stay with you, so I’m going along.”
Mary Lynn collected flashlights and a few blankets. “If he’s there, he’ll be wet and cold at the least.”
When I glanced back at Mrs. Deals she nodded once. “Nana and I will be right here when you get back. Don’t worry about us.”
My last thought before I climbed in the Cadillac was that Luke wasn’t going to be happy about us leaving.
Chapter 26
The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time we reached the north boundary and turned into the area where the dilapidated lodge now haunted the shoreline. The road was as bad as I remembered it, only the Cadillac took the hits like a true fighter.
Mary Lynn hadn’t said a word. The blackness of the trees around her must have spooked her as bad as they did me. If we’d been in an old black-and-white horror movie, I had the feeling we were headed straight for the monster’s lair.
Finally, Mary Lynn said in jerky little sentences that matched the bumpy ride, “I remember when I was real little. This place was still open. Lots of church groups came out here to sit around the campfires and sing. Kids stayed at the lodge and meeting house, couples rented those tiny cabins. They walked around the lake on group hikes. I’d come over at night when my father preached.”
“That must have been fun.”
Mary Lynn nodded. “It was. I believed in him then.”
“Your father?” I’d heard the sheriff’s version of Mary Lynn’s heartbreak, but I didn’t want to let on.
“Yes,” she said. “I grew up believing everything he said, but then he left surrounded in questions.”
I guessed she didn’t want to talk about it. For a while we were silent. I tried to imagine what that kind of loss could do to a girl. No wonder Mary Lynn was so shy.
We reached the cabin closest to the road.
I jumped out and ran to an open doorway and into a single room. After one wide circle with the flashlight I ran back to the car. “Nothing.”
Mary Lynn shoved the Caddy into gear like a seasoned getaway driver.
We hit the next cabin, and the next.
The blackness pushed in on the flashlight’s beam, giving me the feeling that something waited just outside of the light. Its foggy breath blurred the light now and then. I fought to keep my hand from shaking.
As we rolled to the next group of cabins, Mary Lynn whispered, “My father said that when he was little they used to have parties here. Big ones as festive as any county fair. He told me that a little circus even stopped here once and stayed a few weeks. Then the Baptists bought out the place and the parties stopped.”
I blinked, praying none of the descendents of circus animals lived in the thick trees. I could almost hear them in the roar of the wind. “I wish I’d left my imagination at home.”
Mary Lynn laughed. “I know what you mean.”
We pulled deeper into the night.
The next cabin’s roof had fallen in. I had to climb over rubble, but I did my search, even calling Timothy’s name.
Nothing.
When I walked back to the car, I stared across the lake, letting the tiny lights of Jefferson’s Crossing ground me.
We moved closer to the water and circled around the burned cabin. I thought I saw Willie’s light far up by the dam. The beam moved slowly along the water, telling me he hadn’t found anything yet.
The next cabin was farther back in the trees. Mary Lynn got as close as she could and parked. “Should we skip this one, or walk the rest of the way?”
“Walk,” I answered, knowing it was unlikely if Timothy were hurt that he’d go so far, but if we were going to search, we needed to be thorough.
We climbed out and held hands, steadying one another as our flashlights bounced their beams off the trees and brush. After about ten feet of eroded path, the ground leveled and we walked the last twenty feet or so to the cabin. Perhaps because it had been protected by so many trees, this cabin looked in better shape than most. Its door and windows were still intact.
I moved to the corner of the porch and shined my beam along the side of the cabin. A little inlet of water fingered into within a few feet of the back steps. The rain off the porch overhang plopped water into tiny sandy pools on the side of the house.
I retraced my steps and shoved on the door. The knob fell off in my hand. The door didn’t move.
“Timothy?” I yelled, doubting he would have had the strength to shove this door open after he’d crawled to shore. Thunder drowned out my second call.
“The storm’s getting worse,” Mary Lynn whispered as if the weather could hear and respond.
“We’d better hurry,” I whispered back.
Mary Lynn, standing on her toes, held a light to the only clean pane in the window.
I turned. “Let’s try the next.”
“No,” she whispered. “I just saw something move in there.”
I didn’t even want to guess what animal might be holing up inside, but I shined my light and yelled above the rain, “Timothy!”
For a second the wind seemed to hush, then I heard, “In here.”
Mary Lynn and I rushed to the door and both shoved hard. It didn’t budge.
“Let’s try the back.” I yelled, “Tim, we’re coming.”
We splashed down the line of sand puddles to the back door.
It was open. A moment later, we were inside.
“Timothy? Are you all right?”
The cabin must have been used for storage because chairs, boxes, and parts of boats were scrambled like some kind of garage sale salad all around us.
“I’m fine,” he said, sounding out of breath, “but I think he’s hurt.”
Mary Lynn shoved her hood back and knelt. It took me a minute to get my flashlight to focus on the floor.
Timothy knelt, fighting to shelter something wet and black that had curled in the fetal position. Rain dripped from a leak in the ceiling.
I circled the beam of light until I saw Tim’s face. He shivered, wet and frightened but unharmed.
I moved the flashlight to see what he was shielding. I could hear Mary Lynn stripping off her coat. Her flashlight lay on its side, reflecting a muddy floor spotted with bright red drops of blood.
Shifting the light, I saw legs, then a hand, then a body curled on the floor.
“Hold the light high, Allie,” Mary Lynn ordered. “I have to see where he’s hurt.”
“Who?” I stared at the shadow that was Timothy.
He looked up and I could barely make out his thin face filled with an overload of sadness.
“Dillon,” he said calmly. “I saw him jump off the dam.” Tim sounded like he’d been crying. “By the time I got to him, he was floating facedown. I pulled him up by the back of his letter jacket. He gulped for air, then went limp again. I couldn’t pull him all the way into the boat, but I held on to him and tied a rope around the handle of the motor. I thought I could make it back to Mrs. Deals’s house.”
“Hold the light steady,” Mary Lynn said. “He’s bleeding and may be going into shock.”
I adjusted my flashlight to shine on the floor by Timothy, but I couldn’t follow the beam
and see where Mary Lynn worked. I forced myself to keep looking at Timothy.
“I hit a bad spot on the water and flipped the boat. It went wild, circling around and slamming into the dam wall.” He sounded as if he’d aged since dinner. “We were in shallow enough water when it all went to hell. I managed to get him here. But something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.”
Mary Lynn blanketed her coat over Dillon. “Allie, we need help fast. I can’t tell how badly he’s hurt.”
“Can we get him to the car?” Dillon was no small boy. He outweighed Timothy by thirty or forty pounds. I wasn’t sure all three of us could carry him, and if we managed it wouldn’t be easy to cross to the car without someone to hold the light.
Mary shook her head. “Run to the beach and keep blinking your light at Willie’s boat.”
I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my flashlight and ran out the door. For a second, I thought of crossing back to the car and looking for the flares. But there wasn’t enough time because even if I found the flares I’d still have to find the path to the shore.
I splashed through the water at the back door. This would be easier and probably safer.
I stepped into knee-deep water and took big steps, hoping I didn’t plunge into a five-foot-one-deep hole.
As soon as I saw Willie’s big light, I began flicking my flashlight on and off, continuing to move out away from the trees.
The water had reached my waist by the time I saw the boat turn and head toward me. “Help!” I yelled. “We need help!”
I turned and guided them down the inlet. The boat was even with me when we were within ten yards of the cabin’s back door.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” Luke said, low and angry.
“Did you find Timothy?” Willie shouted over Luke’s comment. “Is he alive?”
“He’s fine,” I answered as Luke jumped from the boat and bumped into me. “But he’s got Dillon and the boy is hurt.”
“Dillon Fletcher?”