The Body in the Kelp ff-2

by Katherine Hall Page

  “You seem to have gotten pretty interested in this island in the short time you've been here. I don't deny that a lot has happened to you that sort of dragged you in. But sometimes it isn't always good to know too much about a place too fast.”

  Faith was startled. Was this some kind of warning? Did Freeman know about the clues in the quilt? Or was it the normal reaction of someone who liked her to the fact that she had come upon two corpses and had her house broken into in less than a week?

  She spoke slowly. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, but I certainly don't mean to push myself in where I'm not wanted."

  “Now, now it's not that. Not that at all. Just take it slow, Faith." He smiled broadly at her. "Since you're so interested in things, I'll tell you what we say about Paul Edson around here. He's what we call a `self-made man,' and that lets the Almighty off the hook. Now I'd better dance with my wife or the whole island will have me in divorce court on Monday." He gave her hand a squeeze as they walked over to Nan. Faith felt as if she had been stood in the corner and given a star all at the same time. She greeted Nan. "Thanks for the loan of your husband. He's a treat to dance with."

  “He's a treat, all right," Nan said as she glanced lovingly at Freeman. "You can borrow him anytime. He's awful good at weeding the garden and chopping wood too."

  “Now Nan," protested Freeman. "One female slave driver is enough!”

  The three of them laughed and Faith went back to her chair. She had told the girls that was where she would be if they needed her for anything, and she didn't want to desert her post for too long.

  Nobody asked her to dance, and the next half hour dragged a little despite the excitement of the raffle drawing. Sevenyear-old Missy Sanford drew her own grandmother's name and everybody cheered as Missy solemnly presented her with a large canned ham and got a big kiss in return.

  Faith's chair was near the door, so she saw Eric before he spotted her. He was wearing spotless white Levi's and a navy polo shirt open at the throat. He looked cool, crisp, and very handsome. She automatically looked for Jill, but he appeared to be alone. Maybe he was meeting her at the dance. He certainly seemed to be looking for someone, standing in the door and letting his eyes travel across the crowd. At last they landed on her, and he smiled and made his way over.

  “Faith! What on earth are you doing here all by your lonesome?"

  “Gooseberrying. You know, the honorable role of 'chaperone.' Pix is having one of her allergy attacks, so I'm here to keep Samantha and Arlene on the straight and narrow. A pretty easy job."

  “Poor Pix. This smoke would have been murder for her. I always stink after one of these things.”

  He was speaking clearly, but Faith had the definite impression Eric had been drinking. It was the way he shaped his words—precisely and with extra care. He asked her to dance and stumbled slightly as he gallantly reached for her hand to pull her to her feet.

  “Love the band, don't you? Good beat and easy to dance to. I give it a seven and a half." He laughed.

  Maybe Jill didn't like to dance, Faith thought. Or maybe Eric liked to have a few beers and go solo. As was often the case with Faith, to speculate was to query.

  “Where's Jill tonight?"

  “We're not married, you know," Eric answered peevishly, then modified his tone. "Not yet, anyway, but I hope it will be soon. This is strictly entre nous, Faith, not even Pix. She'd be arranging showers and trousseaux or what have you if she knew."

  “I'm so pleased, Eric. For both of you. It's been such a difficult time for you, and you deserve some happiness.”

  He pulled her closer and said, "Thank you, Faith. Thank you for understanding.”

  The band was playing and Eric hummed along. He pulled Faith a bit nearer, and while one part of her was definitely enjoying the feel of his lean, muscular body, another was slightly uncomfortable at the increasing proximity and the fact that he was slowing down to a standstill. She could count on the band, though, and as they zoomed into "Twist and Shout," Eric broke away abruptly and began an extremely athletic version of the old classic. After a few minutes Faith said, "I've got to sit down, Eric, and it's getting close to eleven. The girls will be looking for me. That is, they'd better be looking for me."

  “Go do your duty, my beautiful duenna," he replied, and walked over to the wall and grabbed the first woman he saw. She looked pleased and began to match him step for step.

  Definitely feeling no pain, Faith reflected in amusement. It was good to see him letting loose and having some fun.

  Samantha and Arlene were dancing at last. With the two boys from the "Lady of the Lake" square dance. Ten more minutes. Faith was sure they would be good about going, and she was ready to leave herself. The band decided to continue the frenzied momentum they had created and started in on "Louie Louie." Eric was still dancing with the same partner. Sonny and Margery gyrated alongside. Both couples were not far from where Faith was sitting.

  Suddenly Eric seemed to register the fact that Sonny was there. He turned and said something to him that Faith couldn't hear. Sonny said something back, and the two women seemed to be trying to keep the men dancing. Margery put her hand on Sonny's arm, and he angrily shook it away. The couples around them gave them a wide berth.

  Sonny was shouting at Eric now, and Faith could hear Eric calling him a "son of a bitch.”

  “Motherfucker" was next, and Sonny tried to land a punch, but a number of men had closed in and were swiftly escorting them into the parking lot.

  Samantha and Arlene came running over to Faith.

  “Do you think Eric's all right?" Samantha asked.

  “I think the men who took them out will take care of things, but maybe we should go and see if he needs a ride home"—and see what's happening, Faith said to herself, although the part about the ride was true. Eric should definitely not be driving in his condition.

  The philosophy on the island seemed to be to let the men fight it out, just get them away from the women and children, and to a place where they couldn't do damage. When Faith and the girls walked into the parking lot, Sonny and Eric were rolling on the ground. Margery was standing to one side. Faith went up to her.

  “This is ridiculous. They could seriously hurt each other. Can't we do something about it?"

  “I think `hurt each other' is what they have in mind, Mrs. Fairchild, and if I could stop Sonny, I would. Besides, if they didn't do it here, they'd do it somewhere else.”

  But some of the men seemed to think enough was enough. Freeman was among them.

  “That's it," Faith heard him say, and he waded in between them. They were still screaming at each other. Eric's white pants were covered with dirt and streaked with blood from a cut on his cheek. Sonny's nose was bleeding and looked a little crooked. "Fuckin' faggot!" he yelled as he tried to get away from the two men who held him. Margery walked over and stood slightly behind him.

  Faith didn't know what to do. Eric was in no condition to drive, but she was unsure how to approach the situation. Freeman must have had the same thought and was offering Eric a lift. "I can drive myself, thank you," he replied with exaggerated politeness and crawled into the front seat of his car. Freeman pushed him to the passenger side and they took off. Nan climbed into their car and followed.

  Faith took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you girls had to see this."

  “Don't worry, Mrs. Fairchild," Arlene assured her. "We have fights like this at every dance. They drink too much, then they get rowdy.”

  Eric wasn't going to feel very rowdy in the morning, although he probably would feel a lot of other things, Faith thought. They walked toward the Woody, passing Sonny and Margery with a cluster of friends and relatives around them. Sonny was slumped against the side of his car, but he didn't seem to be injured. Margery had pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and was busy holding a handkerchief to his nose. As they passed, Faith paused to say something, couldn't think of an appropriate remark, and kept going with a brief nod and slight smile to Marge
ry that vanished immediately when she got a closer look at Margery's left wrist.

  She was wearing Faith's bracelet.

  The silver cuff bracelet Tom had given her.

  The one missing after the break-in.

  Faith gasped and increased her speed, almost pushing the girls into the car. Although it was possible that Margery had bought one like it from the same silversmith on the island, it was not possible that she had deliberately made a scratch on it. No, Ben had done that with a fork when Faith had left the bracelet on the kitchen table one day.

  Faith's mind was in a whirl. Margery and Sonny the burglars? It seemed reasonable if they had known about the quilt, but how did they know about the quilt? The image of Margery standing in the Frazier's doorway flashed into Faith's mind. Of course, she had overheard them discussing "Seek and Ye Shall Find." But to wear the bracelet to the dance, what gall! Of course she would not have expected to see Faith there. And she had been wearing long sleeves. Faith tried to remember. Was it overactive hindsight, or had Margery tugged on her left sleeve when Faith had sat next to them?

  She was driving fast, but Arlene and Samantha, already beginning the dissection of the evening that would be the main topic of conversation for the next few days, didn't notice. She had to finish identifying the quilt squares. The Prescotts might not know she had made photographs, but Arlene could let something slip, and it was only a matter of time before they would. Then there would be another break-in—or worse.

  Driving back along the causeway after dropping the girls at Arlene's, Faith didn't see a single light. There were only two streetlights in the village, and then you were plunged into darkness. She slowed down. There were no other cars on the road and she didn't know whether to feel relieved or anxious. The last thing she wanted now was a pair of headlights following her down the long dirt road that led to the isolated cottage. But Pix would be there waiting, and she relaxed when she remembered.

  Pix and the dogs.

  Faith let herself in quietly. The dogs barked dutifully and briefly once they recognized her. Only the porch and kitchen lights were on, which meant Pix must have gone to sleep. She debated waking her, but decided to wait until the morning. She wanted some time to think what it all meant. Eric's behavior at the dance, then the fight, and the bracelet. She looked in on the two children soundly asleep in Ben's room and took a peek at Pix, who was also soundly, but more noisily, asleep.

  She got into bed and revolved the various scenes of the evening around her brain. In less time than it takes to go Loupty Lou, she was asleep too.

  Asleep, that is, until she heard the dogs begin to bark.

  8

  Dusty had been joined by Henry and Arthur. Pix never liked to leave the dogs home alone. Surely she must be awake with all the barking! Faith quietly crept out of bed and moved quickly to the door, pausing to pick up the brick doorstop that had been disguised with needlepoint. Then she ran down the hall into Ben's room. She had no time to waste.

  The children were sleeping peacefully. She closed the door and positioned herself behind it with the brick raised in her hand. She'd have the element of surprise on her side. Whoever it was downstairs would have everything else. She couldn't hear any footsteps, and the dogs had calmed to occasional whimpers of delight, as Pix had predicted. Maybe the intruder had brought snacks.

  The house was quiet again and she waited. She had time to be afraid now, and she was terrified. Finally the boards on the stairs creaked. The intruder was coming up.

  She heard the hinges groan as the door to her room was pushed slowly open. Then nothing.

  The steps began again and moved down the hall past the room Pix was in. They were making straight for the nursery. The doorknob turned slowly. She watched it, hypnotized with fear. The door began to move. Faith got ready. "Faith," came a soft voice, "Faith, are you in here?" She yanked the door open. It was Tom.

  “What the hell do you mean giving me a scare like that!" she whispered angrily at him, then threw herself into his arms.

  “I tried calling, but there was no answer. I'm sorry, honey, but I was getting too edgy down there. They didn't need me tonight or tomorrow, and I wanted to see my family. Intact, as it were."

  “You were the one destined for injury," Faith said as she dropped the brick that had become cemented into her palm.

  “Why don't we go to bed and you can tell me everything in the morning?" Tom suggested as he lifted Faith up in his arms and walked toward their bedroom. "Just one question. What are all those dogs doing here?"

  “I'm beginning to realize there are few easy explanations on this island, but this one is fairly straightforward. Pix had one of her allergy attacks, so she stayed here and I took Samantha and Arlene to the dance tonight. Of course, the dogs couldn't stay all by themselves at the cottage.”

  Tom lowered Faith onto the bed and started peeling off his clothes preparatory to following her. He started to climb in and stopped. "I didn't even look at Ben. Just a minute, darling, I'll be right back.”

  And he was. In seconds.

  “Faith Sibley Fairchild. There are two children in Ben's room! Would you mind telling me where you got that other baby?”

  Faith gasped. Surely she had mentioned to Tom that she was taking care of Zoë, hadn't she?

  “Oh Tom, I'm sure I must have told you I was taking care of Zoë until the police can find out who Bird was and if she has any family."

  “No, you omitted to mention that fact." Tom started to laugh. "Of course it's fine to take care of her, but you have to imagine what it is like to bend over Ben's crib and realize there is a fairly new baby in a cradle by the side. Nice cradle, too."

  “I'm glad you like it. It's ours. I got it at the auction.”

  Tom beamed. He wanted a big family. "That's great, sweetheart. Now, why don't we do something about filling it? Presuming, of course, that Zoë is not a permanent resident."

  “Well, it would make life simple, and what if they can't find any relatives? I do feel responsible."

  “Because you had the misfortune to find the body? Why don't we wait and see what happens." Tom reached over and turned out the light. "We've had enough surprises for one night."

  “Don't be so sure," Faith said as she began to kiss his ear. She was very fond of his lobes.

  Sunday morning dawned fair and fine. Pix left after consuming a stack of blueberry pancakes. She hadn't heard a thing the night before and vowed never to take an antihistamine again, no matter how miserable.

  “What if it hadn't been Tom? I would have been useless!" she wailed.

  “I don't think this particular situation will arise in the near future, and I'm sure you can sleep safely with or without your hay-fever medicine," Tom said.

  “No, if I can't even hear the dogs or the phone, it's too strong. I'll have to get something else from Dr. Kane when I get home." Pix was adamant. "I have to get Samantha now. See you in church.”

  They waved good-bye from the porch and settled down on the lawn with more coffee and the two children.

  “Okay, Faith, tell all. I want to hear everything you've been sticking that pretty little nose of yours into." Tom sounded firm.

  Faith felt it was a bit unfair to accuse her of idle curiosity when both bodies had virtually found her. But she started from the beginning and told him everything. Or almost everything. She glossed over the quilt, sticking it in the midst of Bird's murder and making only a vague allusion to the map and treasure. It was, after all, supposition. To assuage her guilt, she mentioned the break-in. Tom got up and paced around the yard.

  “I really wish you and Ben—and Zoë if you feel you must—would come back with me. It's only a few days, and I'd feel much better knowing you were safe. We can still be here for Labor Day."

  “I am safe, Tom. Sgt. Dickinson was sure it was kids looking for liquor and it's not likely to be repeated. Remember, they picked a time when I wasn't here. And what would I do down there? You'll be busy and I'd rather not attend the workshops
."

  “There's a beautiful lake and you could sit on the beach with the kids," Tom pointed out.

  “All day? No thank you. And what about the food? You said yourself it was abysmal," Faith protested.

  “Food isn't everything, Faith."

  “Bite your tongue!”

  They glared at each other a moment; then Faith took Tom's hand and stroked the back of it gently. She loved the fine reddish hairs that grew there. "I know you're worried and I love you for it, but I'm a grown-up too. If I thought it was dangerous, I'd leave."

  “Promise?"

  “Promise.”

  They went inside, got ready for church, and were in good time for the service. The bell, hung high in the pointed steeple of the small white clapboard church facing the harbor, was just starting to peal as they drove over the hill into Sanpere Village. Ben and Zoë were deposited in the child care overseen by volunteers, among them Samantha and Arlene, who reached for the children delightedly. Faith raised an eyebrow at Tom. "And what about baby-sitters in New Hampshire?"

  “All right, all right, I've already given in. Put your life in danger just so you don't have to search for a baby-sitter.”

  “Women do it all the time, Tom.”

  Faith sat contentedly in a pew. The sun streamed in the long, plain-glass windows. The only ornament was a large bouquet of flowers on the simple altar in front of the cross. Prize gladiolas from someone's garden were mixed with ferns from the woods, Queen Anne's lace, and other wildflowers. The glads, never Faith's favorite, looked definitely outclassed.

  The sermon was as unadorned as the church, and Faith enjoyed the service. A few well-chosen words, a rousing hymn or two, a quiet moment for prayer, then they were out in the bright sunshine greeting friends and neighbors. In Faith and Tom's case, this meant saying hello to Pix again and nodding to Nan Hamilton. She came over and Faith introduced Tom.

  “I'm afraid my husband is not a great one for church, Reverend Fairchild."

  “There are many ways to worship," Tom said.

  “Now, that's just what Freeman always says. You two ought to get together sometime."