I tried to get information from Garrett about the harassment he’d been experiencing from the men aboard the Persuader, but he said it was no big deal and not worth discussing. His friendly manner was gone, and I felt that he was seeing me as a police officer who had not yet earned his trust.
He secured his floppy hat by tightening a chin strap. “I think I’m going to head back to base camp.”
“I’m going to stay a little longer if it’s all right.”
“I promised Stacey I’d guide you safely home.”
“I’ll try not to step on any bombs.”
I felt bad that I’d let righteous anger get the better of me. The next time Goodale and Beckwith returned, Garrett Meadows would have to face them alone. I hoped I hadn’t created problems for him by my combative attitude. I worried that I had.
As the breeze died, it sucked the oxygen from inside the observation blind, and the box began to bake. I pressed my face to one of the openings. The air shimmered above the sun-scorched rocks, and the smell of guano became overpowering. Buzzing flies found me in the blind and settled on my exposed skin to lap at the salty sweat.
I had lost my desire to watch birds.
Hunched to avoid aerial attacks, I made my way along the central trail. Chicks peeped unseen from the cover of the raspberries and beach roses. Fewer adult birds were around to harass me, and I assumed it was because they had flown out to sea to fish.
I paused at what seemed to be the highest point on the island. I wanted a 360-degree view of this cursed place. To the southeast, I could see the abandoned lifesaving station—a white building with a red roof—across a rippling field. To the southwest, I could see the backside of a billboard. It must have been the sign Garrett had mentioned, the one warning boaters not to land because of the unexploded bombs.
A flurry of gulls was swirling over the base camp. The birds weren’t diving but turning in tight circles as they do above a crowded beach.
Stacey and the researchers were gathered at a picnic table on which they’d stretched a plastic gingham tablecloth. There were plates with sandwiches and a big pitcher of lemonade that was drawing yellow jackets desperate to drown themselves in the sugary water.
“Hillary’s made her special lobster rolls,” Kendra said.
As a native Mainer, I was a snob when it came to lobster. I took a tentative bite of the sandwich Hillary put before me.
“This is the best lobster roll I’ve ever had!”
Stacey covered her mouth because she couldn’t stop chewing to speak. “What’s crunchy in it?”
“Crushed salt-and-vinegar potato chips. It’s my secret ingredient.”
“Eat up,” said Kendra. “We have lobsters coming out our ears. Luckily, there are a few fishermen around who like Hillary more than they hate Maeve.”
“Enough, Kendra,” said the intern. “Enough, OK?”
Garrett seemed to be holding himself above the bickering. He had made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Unfortunately, I’m allergic to seafood,” he explained. “That’s another thing I should’ve considered before taking this job.”
“I’m allergic to cats,” said Kendra.
“Cats won’t kill you,” said Garrett between bites of his PB&J.
“You’ve obviously never lived with a cat,” said Stacey.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “Where’s the best place if I want to try to send a text?”
“The highest spot on the ridge trail,” said Kendra. “You just came that way.”
“Mike’s worried about his wolf.” Stacey knew me too well. “He’s having separation anxiety.”
“You own a wolf?” said Hillary, hazel eyes widening.
“Own is the wrong word.”
Stacey threw her elbows on the table. “You should see him, Kendra. Shadow is this beautiful, powerful animal with a flawless black coat. Aside from Mike, I’m the only one he lets touch him.”
Garrett pretended to choke on his sandwich. “Shadow?”
“I didn’t name him,” I said quickly. “I confiscated him from two meth-heads who’d traded drugs for him. He lives in a wooded pen behind my house.”
“A cage, you mean?” said Kendra.
Too late, I remembered Stacey telling me that her roommate had been a militant animal rights activist at the University of Vermont.
“I let him inside occasionally,” I said, hoping that would placate her, knowing it wouldn’t.
“They’re buddies,” said Stacey. “Shadow slept in the bed one night and pushed Mike onto the floor.”
“Wolves are wild animals,” said Kendra, sounding like she was back at a campus protest march. “It’s a mistake to treat them like domesticated dogs.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said.
“Then why is he your house pet?”
“Ask fate.”
Garrett angled his upper body across the picnic table the way a chess player might lean across a board. “Now that’s an intriguing comment.”
“Fate brought Shadow and me together. I can’t explain how or why. All I can say is he’s supposed to be in my life.”
“Show them some pictures, Mike,” said Stacey.
I got out my cell, pulled up my photos, and passed the phone around.
“He’s beautiful!” said Hillary. “Oh my God, I want one.”
The sight of the wolf affected me with worry. I hadn’t left Shadow alone for the night since December. Logan Cronk, the son of my friends Billy and Aimee, was watching him for me. I always had misgivings, leaving the animal in the boy’s care.
Kendra scowled across the table at me.
Hillary rose and began collecting plates and cups.
“Let me help you,” I said.
Inside the cookhouse, Hillary was quiet, maybe because she was still smarting from Kendra’s jibes. In the awkward silence, I couldn’t help but become aware of the screaming gulls outside.
“Stacey told me the birds keep up that racket all night,” I said, drying the dishes after she washed them. “It would drive me insane. How did you get used to it?”
“Earplugs.”
“I can’t sleep with them. I feel like I’m making myself vulnerable. I need to be alert.”
“Like your wolf?”
Kendra’s disapproval had made me disinclined to discuss Shadow. “I understand you’re studying ornithology at Cornell, Hillary.”
“I was,” she said. “But I’m switching majors.”
“Oh?”
“It was so romantic being out here last summer, on this beautiful island with all these incredible birds. And Evan. But I was naive about a lot of things. I guess I don’t want to end up miserable like Maeve or…”
Kendra.
“‘There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path.’”
She stopped rinsing a bowl. “Who said that? You’re quoting someone.”
“Stacey’s mother.”
“Really? That’s so wise.”
I let out a laugh. “She was quoting Buddha, I think. But Ora Stevens is one of the wisest people I know.”
After we’d finished the dishes, I drifted outdoors again, expecting Hillary to follow, but she remained inside, pretending to neaten the shelves. I sensed she wanted space from Kendra. Maybe space from all of us.
“I almost forgot,” Stacey was telling Kendra and Garrett. “On our way out, we saw a puffin flying in with butterfish in its bill.”
Kendra groaned.
“What’s wrong with butterfish?” I asked.
“It’s a southern species that’s been moving into the Gulf of Maine due to global warming,” Garrett explained. “Puffins evolved to eat skinny fish like herring and sea lances. Butterfish are shaped like silver-dollar pancakes. The chicks can’t swallow them, and consequently they starve.”
“I’m telling you, Stevens, the end is nigh,” said Kendra.
Hillary came rushing out the door, letting it slam behind her. She appeared flushed.
“Maeve just called on the radio. She said she’s heading back to the island later this afternoon. She wants to beat the rainstorm. You know how she hates driving in the rain or dark.”
“Did she say where she is?” Kendra asked.
“No. Just that she was heading back.”
“Well, did she say what she’s been doing?” Stacey asked.
“Running around the state, meeting with people, trying to raise money. She said she thought we knew. She said it never occurred to her that we’d be worried.”
“That’s bullshit,” said Kendra.
“How did she sound?” I asked. “Matter-of-fact? Impatient? Anxious?”
Hillary brought a hand to her mouth and spoke through her fingers as if she hoped not to be heard. “Tipsy.”
“This evening should be fun,” said Garrett, sighing as everyone rose from the table.
I expected a wisecrack or a lament from Kendra, but she didn’t speak as she pulled the cloth from the table and shook off the crumbs. She wadded the plastic under her arm and stalked off toward the laundry shed. She limped slightly without the help of the black walking stick.
Stacey made a pained face. I heard a series of big waves break hard against the boulders behind us. Then the gulls descended.