by James Nelson
“Would you hike it with me?” Stephen asked.
“I’d love to. We can do it in three or four stages.”
The trail continued to climb. Finally, the trail broke out onto an overlook high above Lake Superior. Looking to the right, Stephen could see an island positioned just off the coast.
“I guess that’s where Grand View gets its name,” Stephen said.
“That’s right, that’s Grand Island.”
To the left was a view of a pristine shoreline with an unbroken forest as far as the eye could see.
“This is spectacular!” Stephen exclaimed. “All this natural beauty and not a person in sight.”
“Not exactly like New York City, is it?” Jeanette asked. “Hey, it’s going to get dark soon, we better head back.”
Jeanette led the way back down the trail. Stephen continued to admire the view, and it wasn’t all trees that he was admiring. Halfway back, Jeanette said, “See that tree with the scratches on it?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Bears. Bears mark trees like that for some reason. Maybe it’s to mark their territory or just to sharpen their claws. You can see bear markings all through these woods.”
They continued another ten minutes down the trail. After the bear comment, Stephen was looking behind every few minutes. After twenty minutes, Stephen stopped and said, “Let’s take a break.”
Jeanette pointed, “We can sit here.”
They sat on a fallen log.
“Your uncle tells me you rode the train all the way from New York City. How long did that take?”
“Over 24 hours.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Well, yes and no. I enjoyed seeing a lot of country, but, don’t think I’m crazy, but I think someone may have been following me during my trip up here.”
“What, someone followed you?”
“I know, it sounds nuts. I mentioned it to Uncle Phil, but I don’t think he believed me.”
“What makes you think someone followed you?”
Stephen related all his suspicions, from his traveling companion’s fears, his Art Institute encounter, and the sighting in Escanaba.
“It does sound pretty coincidental, I must admit. Is there a reason someone would be following you? Are you running away from something that nobody knows about?”
“No, nothing like that. That’s the problem. I can’t think of any reason someone would be following me.”
“Just like a mystery novel, eh? Or maybe you’re a secret agent?” She smiled at him. Stephen colored slightly.
“Should I start calling you Bond? Secret agent Stephen Bond?”
He smiled back, embarrassed.
“Say, maybe we’d better get going before it gets too dark.” Jeanette said, climbing to her feet.
Stephen jumped up and offered her a hand. They continued walking back toward the house.
Chapter 11
Paulie woke up and glanced at the clock radio sitting on the nightstand. It was seven thirty at night. He stretched, splashed some water on his face and opened the closet to get dressed. Damn suits, he muttered to himself. All the clothes he had taken were suits and it seemed like nobody around here was wearing anything but flannel shirts and jeans. He seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. He put on a dark blue suit, decided to forget about a tie and headed out the door.
While searching the town for the Porsche, Paulie had seen a bar on Lake Street. He decided to have a drink and maybe ask a few questions. Paulie kept his eye out for the Porsche on his drive back to town.
He opened the door to The Freighter View Tavern, headed straight towards the bar and ordered a whiskey and water. He looked around. The bar, just like the diner, seemed to have a combination of a few tourists and mostly locals. Paulie glanced at the guy sitting next to him. He was in his early twenties but didn’t look very healthy. He was kind of thin and pale looking. He was drinking a bottle of beer. Paulie took a drink and turned to the man.
“How you doing?” Paulie offered.
“Just fine, I’m doing just fine.” The man replied, a little hesitantly.
Trying to make conversation, Paulie gestured towards a photograph of a large boat, the Homer D. Williams, on the wall.
“What kinda boat is that? I never seen a boat like that before.”
“That’s an ore boat. You’ll see plenty of them around here. They haul iron ore from the mines up here to ports in Chicago, Minnesota and on into Canada.”
“Iron? I wondered where that shit came from.”
“I worked on the boats for a few years. You know, there’s not a lot to do for work around here. I got hurt and had to quit.”
The man stopped talking and took a sip of beer. He looked back at Paulie.
“What do you do? Sell insurance?”
Paulie paused. “Insurance? What the fu…” He stopped himself. “Ah, well, I guess you could say I’m in the insurance business.” Paulie chuckled. “Let me get you a drink, Pal. What’s your name?”
“They call me Moon. Moon Murchie.” Moon didn’t care for that last comment about insurance. It sounded a little sinister to him, but what the hell, a free drink was a free drink.
“And what’s your name?” Moon inquired.
“Paulie”. With that said, Paulie turned and shot Moon a look Moon interpreted as meaning “don’t bother asking for my last name.” Moon got the hint.
Moon Murchie hated his nickname. His real name was Francis but around here, nicknames were easy to acquire and hard to shake.
Francis was thirteen years old when he got saddled with the name Moon. He was fishing with two other buddies along the shore of Grand Sable Lake when they saw a boat approaching. The boat was owned by one of their friends. As the boat got a little closer, the boys decided to have a little fun. Everyone turned around and, all together, they pulled down their pants.
Unfortunately for them, the boat had been borrowed by a sheriff’s patrol out looking for a lost fisherman. The sheriff saw little humor in their prank and they all got arrested. Since Francis had previous run-ins with the law, the little prank ended his probation and he went downstate for a six-month stretch at a boy’s reform school. The other kids got a reprimand and were sent home.
That incident earned him the nickname Moon. Once he got back, he couldn’t lose the reform school past. It made locals wary of hiring him and Moon always seemed to be on the look out for an opportunity, as he was fond of saying.
Moon took a sip of his free beer.
Paulie asked, “Hey, Moonie. You live around here?”
“Yes”
“What can you tell me about a guy named Kahle?”
“Why are you asking?”
Paulie stiffened. His first impression was to grab this little hick by the throat and ask him again. Paulie wasn’t used to being asked questions. It was his job to ask the damn questions; but he did need some answers, so he took a moment to calm himself down and think of a reply.
“Ah…I’m up here looking at some property. You know, investment stuff and his name keeps coming up. I know he drives a nice car and I think he may be just what I’m looking for as an investor, so to speak.”
Moon took another sip of beer. “He’s got dough, that’s for sure. Have you ever seen his place, Cliffside Manor? He has to have a million bucks sunk into that place.”
“No, I’ve never had the opportunity.” Paulie’s heart was beating faster. “But I’d love to see it. Is it close?”
“Oh, yeah. About eight miles from here. Just when you come down the hill after the Grand View sign, you take a quick left on Pine Ridge Road and go back about two miles. There’s a big gate, so you can’t just drive in, but it’s quite a site.”
So that’s how they disappeared so fast, Paulie thought. He finished his drink and ordered another round for himself and Moon. “So what’s there to do here at night? You got any clubs? You got an Italian Social Club, something like that?”
“Oh yeah, we got the Moose Lodge.
On Fridays they cook up one hell of a fish fry. And the drinks are cheap, too.”
“A lodge for moose.” Paulie muttered, “Now that’s just goddamned perfect. All these damn trees and a lodge for Moose to go along with it. Just where the hell am I?”
“What?” Moon asked.
“Nothing, pal, nothing at all” Paulie said, shaking his head. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 12
Rain was pelting the window when Stephen woke up. He looked outside. Grey clouds were scurrying across the sky. It looked cold outside and his room felt damp. He had now been at Cliffside Manor for three days and this was the first bad weather he had encountered.
He showered, slipped on some warm clothes and headed downstairs for breakfast. The dining room was empty. Stephen glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it was already nine-thirty. He had slept much longer than usual. It must have been the soothing sounds of the rain hitting against his window.
Uncle Phillip had mentioned that he would be working in his office most of the day and Stephen knew that meant Jeanette was probably busy too. Stephen had not figured out what Britt’s schedule was. She came and went as she pleased, it seemed. Every time he saw her she always seemed to be dressed in something very flimsy and almost see through. With the weather outside being so cold and rainy, he wondered if she would be walking around in flannels today.
Stephen headed for the kitchen, which was located behind the dining room. As Stephen entered, Cora and a man were sitting at a table having coffee. At the sight of Stephen, Cora jumped up. “What can I get you for breakfast, Stephen?”
“Nothing, Cora. Sit down. I’ll find something myself.” Cora poured Stephen a cup of coffee, handed it to him and walked back over to the table.
“I’d like you to meet Bobby Blankenship. Bobby’s our security guard.” Bobby stood up to shake Stephen’s hand. He was over six feet tall and had sandy blond hair.
Stephen shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ve seen you walking outside, but we’ve never been introduced.”
Bobby sat back down, and he and Cora returned to their conversation. Stephen dug through the cupboards and found a bagel and a blueberry muffin.
Stephen wandered over to the trophy room and sat in a huge brown leather chair, worn smooth from much use. A fire was burning, and Stephen welcomed the warmth as he ate his bagel.
The night before, as he lay in bed, he kept thinking about the man who seemed to have been following him. Stephen felt a little embarrassed that he had mentioned his concern to two different people and it seemed neither of them had believed him.
With the bad weather, and both his uncle and Jeanette busy working, he thought it would be fun to check out the town of Grand View and possibly do some sketching. He could also ask a few questions, or maybe even find the guy who may have been following him. The guy certainly was big enough to spot!
Stephen heard a cough at the doorway. He turned around. It was Britt. No flannels for her. She was wearing a long sheer night gown, her hair was all tousled like she had just gotten out of bed. She was holding a cup of coffee.
“Morning, Stephen,” she said as she approached him. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, very well.” Stephen was about to ask, “and you?” but he thought better of it. He didn’t want to have a vision of her in bed.
Britt pulled a cushion off the couch, tossed it on the floor and sat close to the fire. Stephen was uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea to be alone in a room with such a sexy woman, especially with what she was wearing. Britt stared into the fire.
“With this weather, I doubt my fan club will be picketing the gate today. Such a relief. It makes your uncle so mad. I hate to cause trouble, but sometimes I just can’t sit back and be silent.”
Stephen didn’t know what to say. To disagree with her would be rude, but to agree with her would be going against his uncle’s wishes. He just silently sat there, feeling awkward. From the side, Stephen could see the full curve of her breast through the thin material of her negligee. The room he had thought felt chilly at first was now feeling much warmer.
“This cushion’s hard,” Britt said. As she stood up, Britt stepped on the hem of her night gown and fell over the arm of Stephen’s chair, landing neatly in his lap.
Stephen’s coffee, which had been balancing on the arm of the chair, went crashing to the floor at the same time Uncle Phillip walked into the room.
“What broke?” Phillip asked.
Phillip’s gaze moved from the shattered coffee cup on the floor up to the leather chair.
“Britt!”
Stephen jumped up from the chair so quickly Britt slid down to the floor. “Wait, Uncle, don’t…”
Uncle Phillip stormed over to Britt. “Get out of here. Get back to the house.”
He grabbed Britt’s arm and walked her out of the room, shooting Stephen an icy stare.
Hearing the commotion, Jeanette appeared in the doorway. “What happened?” She asked. She took one look at Stephen and could tell whatever happened was not good.
“I was sitting in here by the fire finishing my breakfast when Britt skipped into the room wearing almost nothing. The next thing I know, she fell into the chair with me.”
Stephen was watching Jeanette’s face for a reaction. She didn’t seem surprised or shocked at all.
He continued, “Before I could even move, Uncle Phillip came in and I think he jumped to a bad conclusion.”
Stephen was visibly upset and he was speaking loudly. Jeanette bent down to pick up the pieces of Stephen’s broken cup and saucer.
Bobby, the guard appeared at the doorway.
“Everything okay?” He asked.
“Yes, Bobby.” Jeanette said, “Everything’s fine.” The
guard turned and headed down the hallway behind Phillip and Britt.
“Stephen, settle down. I know this is putting you in a very uncomfortable position. Come with me, let’s go upstairs where we can talk.”
They marched up to the third floor without speaking. Jeanette pulled Stephen into the billiard room. A quiet tension filled the air.
“Do you play pool, Stephen?”
“A little. I never really played that much.” Stephen said.
Jeanette grabbed two pool cues and handed one to Stephen. She racked up the billiard balls and said, “Go ahead, break.”
Stephen hit the cue ball with a glancing blow. It hit the racked balls with only enough force to knock a few balls loose.
Jeanette took over and sunk five balls in a row. Stephen hesitated as he walked up to the table. His shot missed the ball completely. Jeanette grabbed the cues and set them back in the rack.
“Let’s go to the library, I can see your heart’s not in this game.”
Once in the quiet surroundings of the library, Stephen regained his composure.
“I can’t believe Uncle Phillip would think that I’d make a pass at his girlfriend? She’s attractive, there’s no discounting that. She’s a lot older than me. How rude does he think I am?”
Stephen was pacing the floor. “I’m only here a few days and he thinks I’m making moves on his girlfriend. I’ve got enough women problems of my own now. I don’t need any more.”
Jeanette wondered what that statement meant but decided not to ask any questions.
“What’s wrong with her, anyway, Jeanette? Parading around dressed like that in front of everybody.”
“Stephen, I’m sure you were totally innocent and probably caught up in something with a little more history than you can even imagine.”
Stephen stopped walking and sat on the arm of a chair, listening.
“Britt’s a beautiful woman, but she is not as pretty as she once was. You remember your uncle pleading with her to go back to Hollywood with him?”
“Yea, that kind of surprised me.”
“Well, she loves it here with her animals and nature, she also shuns Hollywood.”
“Why is that?” Stephen asked
.
“Probably because she’s not being offered the parts she once was. Britt got to where she was by being young and beautiful. She can see now there’s another generation of young actresses who have taken her place.”
“I never thought of that, that has to be hard.”
“That’s not easy for any woman, let alone one who has successfully used her looks and sensuality to achieve what she has become.”
Stephen pondered Jeanette’s words. “That makes sense, but why try and get me in trouble with my uncle?”
“Not to undermine your handsomeness,” Jeanette said glancing down with a quick blush, “but I think this was more of a ploy for Britt to get your uncle jealous and have him pay more attention to her.”
Stephen was trying to digest all of this.
“You were probably just a circumstantial pawn. A handsome one, but a pawn, nonetheless.”
Jeanette sighed, “I’ve worked here for years and, unfortunately, I’ve seen her in action before.”
“I hope Uncle Phillip’s not mad at me for long. I was going to get out of here for the day anyway. I was going to ask him to borrow a car and drive into Grand View.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“I wanted to spend a little time looking for that goon that may have been following me, but I can’t ask him for a car now. He’s not even speaking to me!”
“Take mine. I think it would do you good to get out of here for a while and I’m supposed to be working. My car is just sitting there, so let’s go back to my office and I’ll get you the keys.”
Stephen appreciated her support and he was thankful for the information she had shared with him. He had an urge to just grab her and give her a big hug, but he didn’t want his uncle to pop in and get the wrong idea about that too!
Stephen controlled himself, thanked her for the use of her car, and slipped quietly out of Cliffside Manor, not wanting another confrontation.
An hour after Jeanette handed Stephen her car keys, Phillip appeared at her office door.