WE’D JUST FINISHED GOING THROUGH the last box of Olivia’s artifacts when my cell rang.
“Kayaks or rowboat?” Jack asked, without preamble.
“Rowboat,” I said. I knew he was finishing up a job today and I’d half expected a call proposing an outdoor activity at some point in the afternoon. I had hoped for leaf raking, but a turn around Misty Lake in a rowboat sounded much more appealing. Still, maybe I could have my cake and eat it, too.
“Could you load your gas-powered leaf blower in the truck?” I asked. “If Marydale were to bring Sprocket and Gadget over right now they’d disappear into the leaf mountain in our backyard.”
“Sure thing,” Jack said. “Be ready in fifteen.”
This is why a friendship is better than a romance, I told myself as I clicked off. If Jack were my boyfriend, I’d have been vexed by the short notice and by his taking me for granted. But he wasn’t my boyfriend; he was my amigo, my pal. And never mind that lately he was my pining heart. That was my problem and I was just going to have to deal with it. I wanted Jack Ford in my life until the end and I wasn’t about to do anything to put our friendship in jeopardy or make things awkward between us. I’d tried to think of him as a brother but that definitely wasn’t working. Forcing brotherly thoughts while admiring his blue eyes was icking me out.
Esme was planning to do the grocery shopping for the week. Having been brought up Catholic, I could have easily let myself feel guilty about running out on her, but she loved the grocery store; I hated it. She enjoyed browsing, comparing prices, and reading labels while I stared longingly out the store windows wishing I could escape the fluorescent glare and get out into the sunshine.
“Thank the Lord,” she said when I told her I wouldn’t be going with her. “Honestly, Sophreena, having you along is like taking a three-year-old shopping. You ask ‘are we nearly done’ every five minutes.”
“I never do that!” I protested.
“In your head you do,” Esme said. “Now you go paddle your way across the lake and I’ll go sidle my way through the Harris Teeter and we’ll both have a happy afternoon. Leastwise I will if Celestine will let me have a little peace.”
“More messages from beyond the veil?” I asked.
“Same message, she’s just amping it up. Hurry, hurry. Read faster. For such a gentle countrywoman she’s turning into quite the diva.”
* * *
The lake was smooth and untroubled and the October afternoon so warm Jack and I had both shed our sweatshirts before we even got the boat in the water. The craft was homely, scarred, and weather-beaten, but Jack refused to gussy it up. He maintained the hull, repairing and waterproofing as necessary, but otherwise tried to keep it looking the same. His father had built the boat with him when he was a boy and it helped him navigate more than waterways.
No motorized craft were allowed on the lake, but there were a few kayaks and wind sails out, and there’d be more when school let out for the day.
We lifted the boat off the back of the truck, me taking the land end, bracing myself and bending my knees to take the weight.
“No matter how many times we do this, it always amazes me you can lift your end,” Jack said. “You’re stronger than you look.”
“I watched a lot of Mighty Mouse when I was a kid,” I said.
Jack laughed as we put the boat down at water’s edge. “Well, that explains a lot. But Mighty Mouse was a little before your time, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, but my dad had movie reels filled with cartoons. He had them transferred to videotape and we’d watch them together. I liked them better than the stuff being made when I was little. I mean Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? What was that about? What was your favorite cartoon?”
“Hate to admit it,” Jack said, “but I worshipped He-Man. I was small for my age and he made me feel even more inadequate, but I figured if I could just get my hands on one of those swords I could kick ass.”
The boat rocked as I climbed in and I had to grab at the sides to steady myself. Jack laughed and underscored the taunt by taking a wide-legged stance, shifting his weight from side to side, rocking the boat wildly while maintaining perfect balance. I wanted to put my foot up and kick him overboard, but I knew he had his phone and keys in his pocket. I’d have to plot a comeuppance for later.
We settled into an easy rhythm, oars synchronizing by virtue of both muscle memory and the Martian mind-meld Jack and I have going on. With the exception of the one, rather large secret I was keeping about my feelings for him, Jack and I were open with one another.
“Any news about the investigation?” he asked.
“Not that I’ve heard,” I said. “I know the heat is definitely on.”
“I figured that. How’s Beth doing?”
I told him what Olivia had to say that morning and about how we were to pick up on her genealogy project.
“That’d be good,” Jack said. “Keep ’em busy. I know Daniel’s worried this whole thing will put a strain on his mother and slow down her recovery.”
“I didn’t realize you knew Daniel so well,” I said.
“Yeah, I mean kind of. We were on a rec-league volleyball team together and I got to know him even better when I was doing Olivia’s yard work. We’ve gone to a couple of basketball games together, did a Habitat for Humanity gig, stuff like that. I saw him late yesterday afternoon as he was leaving Bonnie Foster’s house and I was just getting home. I think he’s handling some business things for Beth.”
“I don’t know Bonnie well,” I said, fishing for how well Jack might know her.
“We’re friendly neighbors,” Jack said, “but not like pals or anything. She’s nice and scary smart. She grew up out in the mountains somewhere. She and Blaine were college friends. Reading between the lines I’d say he brought the financial backing to the business and she brought the day-to-day operations savvy.”
“I’d expect she’ll be able to keep the store, right? They probably had some kind of partner-survivor policy. Most business partners do that so they won’t lose the business if anything happens to one of them.”
“Yeah, I think so. Bonnie insisted they take out a policy to protect her when Blaine took up rock climbing a few years back. She said if he wanted to dangle off the side of the mountain and endanger himself that was his call, but he wasn’t going to take the business down with him. She’s got everything she owns invested in the place.” Jack frowned as he studied something on the opposing shoreline.
I looked over to where a cluster of kayaks and paddleboats were circling. I saw a flutter of torn yellow tape on one of the dock posts and realized this was the spot where Blaine’s body had been found. “Oh God, looky-loos,” I muttered.
“Morbid curiosity,” Jack said. “It’s a human condition.”
“You know, I always thought Blaine and Daniel got on pretty well,” I said, “but the last time I saw them together it was Tension City.”
“Back when we were playing volleyball Daniel would bring Blaine along sometimes and I know they played tennis together. But I think they’d kind of gotten crossways of one another over time.”
I told him about Blaine’s refusal to invest in Daniel’s restaurant. “Maybe that’s what soured things.”
“Don’t think so,” Jack said, paddling extra strokes to align us with a bend in the shoreline. “Things were already mucked up with them before that happened.”
“Daniel seems to have it in for Peyton, too,” I said.
“Now that I don’t get,” Jack said. “Peyton’s a good guy, and a great coach. The kids at Morningside High all think he walks on water. He’s really good with them. Doesn’t lose his temper like a lot of coaches do. He’s an easygoing, mellow guy.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen him last week,” I said. “He got into an argument with Beth and he was—well, whatever the opposite of mellow is.”
“An argument with Beth? I can’t even imagine that.”
“Me neither, except Esme and I saw it with our own four eyes. I was mildly curious at the time but after all that’s happened, I’d really like to know what it was about.”
“Wait, you’re not thinking it’s anything to do with what happened to Blaine, are you?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? It was strange, and when something like this happens, anything out of the ordinary pricks up your ears.”
Jack paddled alone, alternating the paddle from side to side, while I ate cheese and crackers and drank a bottle of water. When I was done, I took over and passed him the snack bag.
The sun, apparently jealous of the autumn leaves, was gathering in reflected glory and painting a swath of sky, the golden orb drifting slowly and gracefully toward the horizon. We’d need to turn soon or else we’d run out of daylight. And while moonlight boating could be lovely, it could also be creepy.
I thought of the young kayaker who’d come upon Blaine’s body. As it happened he was one of Peyton Branch’s football players. The poor kid had already been unhinged by finding a body and he’d completely freaked when he found out it was his coach’s brother.
We were on the east side of Misty Lake, which is for regular folks. Bike and hiking paths snake along the shoreline and most of the small piers are shared by neighbors or owned and maintained by the town. Olivia’s house was an exception. The house was situated at the end of the public space and had a long, steeply sloping yard that ran down to the lake, with a small private dock at the bottom. Olivia’s house may have been modest, but her lot was as luxurious as any surrounding the mansions on the west side of the lake along Crescent Hill.
“That’s funny,” I said, as we came even with Olivia’s dock. “She just told me a few days ago her boat was stowed up in the garage loft. Now it’s tied up at the dock.”
“Maybe she’s ready to start taking it out again.”
“Maybe,” I said. There was no mistaking Olivia’s boat. It was a flat-bottomed skiff like Jack’s, but Olivia’s was distinctive. She’d made two small kinetic sculptures and attached them on each side aft. As we disturbed the water with our oars the ripples went out and set the metal pieces chiming.
In healthier days Olivia had routinely used the boat to visit Beth, whose house was on an almost direct east-west line across the lake. It was quicker by far than driving around the lake, and Olivia enjoyed being on the water.
As we came closer I noticed flattened vegetation and slickened streaks of mud near the water’s edge. My mind flashed back to Olivia’s stained pants and muddy shoes on the afternoon she’d tested herself by walking down to the lake.
“I wonder if she took the boat out,” I mused, not realizing I’d spoken aloud.
“When?” Jack asked.
“The day Blaine was killed.”
“Maybe she did,” Jack said with a shrug. “What does that matter?”
“Good question,” I said, staring out across the lake to the group of looky-loos still circling Blaine’s watery grave.
* * *
Denny was sitting at the kitchen table watching Esme cook. She’d decided a home-cooked meal was just the ticket for reducing his stress levels. Maybe, but the meal she was whipping up would do nothing good for his cholesterol levels. Pork chops, mashed potatoes with gravy, big slabs of Winston’s sourdough bread with butter, broccoli smothered in hollandaise sauce, and, in a token nod to healthful eating, a small green salad. Plus, given Denny’s notorious sweet tooth, I was sure there was a pie or cake cooling somewhere.
Denny’s immense body seemed in danger of melting over the sides of the kitchen chair, he was in such a slump. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Anything new?” Jack asked.
Denny leaned on the table and drew his hand down hard over his face as if ironing out the bags under his eyes. “Not a whole lot,” he said. “We’re learning more on background about Blaine Branch’s life, but none of it’s been useful in finding who killed him. Not yet, anyway.”
Over the last few months Denny had become an adjunct member of our club, though he hadn’t been read in on everything. He wasn’t working on his own family history—yet, though I think we’ve stirred the notion for him. And he didn’t know about Esme’s gift. But he’d learned to trust our discretion and he claimed talking things through with us was helpful, so I had no reservations about asking questions.
“What have you found?”
“Nothing damning,” Denny said. “I think everybody knows Blaine had a wild streak when he was younger. He got into trouble in his college years, usually over stunts his idiot frat brothers put him up to. Some of those hijinks look very un-PC now and I’m sure he wouldn’t have liked them bandied about after he’d become an upstanding citizen of the community, but none of it was too serious.”
“Could it have been something as simple as a robbery?” Jack asked. “I mean, everybody around knew Blaine had money, and more than a few knew he had a habit of carrying a lot of cash on him just for show.”
“You got that right,” Denny said. “Blaine liked having a roll to flash. Not smart and totally unnecessary nowadays, when practically everywhere you go they take credit or debit cards. But no, for sure not robbery. His wallet was still in his pocket, plenty of cash in it, and he was wearing a pricey watch.”
“Olivia told me you’ve cordoned off Beth’s house,” I said. “What’s that about?”
“We don’t know where it happened. We’re trying to trace Blaine’s movement on that day. And we found blood out in the yard at his and Beth’s house. We’re assuming it was Beth’s from where she fell and hit her head, or whatever happened with her. Still,” he said, turning a palm up, “we’ve gotta cover all the bases. There’s something off about the place. And Beth won’t be much help unless she gets her memory back. Jen was over there this afternoon with a crew going over the yard again. We’re also looking at the fishing wharf behind The Sporting Life. That’s near the spot where Potter’s Creek feeds into the lake and the current is strong there; it could have carried a body out to where the kid found him.”
“What makes you think he might have been killed there?” I asked.
“Slim evidence, really. But according to the timeline we’ve got so far that’s the last place someone remembered seeing him that morning. We had the tech guys out there yesterday and they found trace amounts of blood on the wharf, too. But the store had a fishing gear clinic there last week and it hasn’t rained since. Could be fish blood or maybe somebody got a barb in the finger or something. Anyhow, it’s in the testing pipeline.”
“But he was, for sure, at the store that day?” Jack asked. “I thought Bonnie said she didn’t see him at all.”
Denny nodded again. “Same thing with the store employees, but two people saw him in the parking lot. There’s a door from the lot into a hallway that leads to his office, so could be he didn’t check in with anybody, or never got a chance to. All I can say is that’s the last sighting of him we’ve got. And this was from two different people who say he was there around eleven a.m.”
“Do you know any more about how he was killed?” I asked.
“We know he was struck on the back of the head with something hard and flat, and we know he was hit with considerable force. So the how we know. Now all we’re missing is the who, the why, and the where.” He sighed and Esme set a glass of iced tea in front of him and patted his shoulder.
“It’ll all come clear,” she said. “But for now you need to give it a rest for a while. Sophreena, you and Jack want to join us for supper? There’s plenty.”
“Love to, Esme, looks great, but I’ve got a meeting with a client,” Jack said.
I decided Esme and Denny deserved some privacy. “I ate already,” I said, figuring cheese and crackers counted so it wasn’t a lie. And I could always sneak in for midnight leftovers if there were any. “Jack’s gonna help me with the leaves until he has to go to his meeting, then I’m gonna see what I can find out for Olivia.”
“All right, then, you two have fun,” Esme said.
I watched, astounded, as she served up Denny’s heaping plate. “Bon appetit, y’all,” I said. “And maybe a brisk walk after supper would be in order, else I might come back and find you both in a food coma.”