Chapter 3

Zack closes his eyes to block out the flashes of the cop car’s lights. He and Nola and Lamar have been standing here for half an hour. First, waiting for the deputies to show up after Nola made the call. Then explaining how they found the boat. Now just standing. Not sure what else to do.

Red and blue splotches attack the backs of his eyelids. He gives up and opens his eyes again. A small crowd has gathered around the washed-up boat. Zack sees some locals he recognizes, plus a smattering of tourists. Walking stereotypes in Hawaiian shirts and hats that say I Heart Wardwell. Zack feels vaguely embarrassed for them.

His phone buzzes. Dad. Zack had texted him twenty minutes ago, asking him to pick up Ben and Leah from the book store. Just saw your text. Will pick up B & L. You OK?

He replies Yeah and puts his phone back in his pocket. One of the deputies walks back to the cop car. She’s carrying a clear plastic bag with a few lumpy, dark objects in it. “You kids are free to go,” she says. “Thanks for calling this in.”

“Did you . . . find anything?” asks Zack, eyeing the evidence bag.

The deputy gives him a sad smile. “There’s nobody onboard, as you know. But we’re still having a look around.”

“Do you think he just fell overboard?” asks Zack.

Nola shoots him a confused look. “What do you mean? Obviously that’s what happened.”

Zack stays focused on the deputy. “I mean, like, there wasn’t evidence of—foul play?”

The deputy’s eyes widen in surprise. But only for a split second. Almost instantly, they narrow into suspicious slits. “Did you expect there to be?”

“I—no! I just . . .” He shrugs. “I watch a lot of TV.”

“Apparently.” The deputy purses her lips. “We can’t say more until the Coast Guard folks get here. But there’ll be a thorough investigation. I can assure you of that.”

Nola takes Zack by the arm. “Thanks, Officer. Good luck.” To Zack, she adds, “Come on. No point hanging around here gaping like this.” Zack lets her guide him away from the scene.

Lamar falls into step on the other side of him. “You okay, Zack? You look a little sick.”

“I’m fine,” Zack mutters. “It’s just pretty awful, you know?”

“It is,” Nola agrees. “But what on earth made you ask about foul play? Nobody gets murdered on Wardwell Island. The crime rate is literally zero. And the guy went out in that boat by himself.”

“To be fair,” says Lamar, “somebody could’ve pulled up alongside him in another boat.”

“And then what? Thrown a harpoon at him? Get real. The poor guy probably lost his footing on the wet deck.”

“I heard one of his friends say he was an experienced sailor . . .” Zack starts.

“Accidents can still happen. Or maybe he had a heart attack or a seizure or something and just fell over the side.”

“But doesn’t something about this seem . . . off to you?” Zack demands. “Like it isn’t that simple?”

“No,” says Nola flatly. “It’s awful, but it’s not suspicious.”

“Well, what about the anniversary thing?” Zack presses. “What’s that about?”

“Anniversary thing?” Lamar echoes, confused.

Zack explains. “Back at the store, Eliza said something about an anniversary. Something like, having a tourist disappear felt spooky, because of some anniversary. Do you know what she meant?”

Lamar frowns and twists at his ring. “I can’t think of anything . . .” He trails off as his phone starts buzzing.

“Neither can I,” says Nola. “That is kind of weird, actually. I guess we can go back to the store and ask Eliza about it . . .”

“Uh, no, we can’t,” says Lamar. “Li just texted me to say she’s closing up early. Now that is weird.” He starts typing on his screen. “I’m asking why. Also, babe, it’s almost six.”

Nola swears quietly. “If we’re late to dinner, Grandpa will cook us and eat us as his appetizer.”

“Huh,” says Lamar, staring at his phone. He’s clearly not reacting to what Nola just said. “Li says she’s feeling sick. She was fine an hour ago . . . Oh, and Zack, she says to tell you that your dad just came by and got Ben and Leah.”

“Tell her thanks,” Zack says. “And that I hope she feels better. If you guys need to run to dinner, I can catch you later . . .”

“No, come with us,” Nola cuts in. “Grandpa likes you. I mean, as much as he likes anyone. And he always makes too much food.”

“Plus,” says Lamar, “if anyone knows anything about that anniversary . . .”

Zack almost smiles. “It’d be Weird Hal.”

***

Weird Hal is a living legend. Technically, his name is Felix Halwin. Former mayor of Wardwell, founder of the island’s most popular B&B, board member of every local organization. Wardwell’s biggest street is named after him. So is an ice cream flavor. The souvenir shops sell mugs with his face on them. He also happens to be Nola’s grandfather.

His house sits on the western slope of Moray Hill and has one of the island’s best views. All the outside walls are glass, from floor to ceiling. Same with most of the interior walls. Standing outside, you can see the entire living room and kitchen. The first time Zack got invited here, when he was about ten, he and Hal discussed this.

Zack: “Mr. Halwin, why is your house made of glass?”

Hal: “Have you heard the phrase ‘People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones’?”

Zack: “Um, I have now.”

Hal: “Well, that’s why. It’s a good reminder for me.”

By now Zack’s used to it. And nobody else lives on Moray Hill, so it’s not as if nosy neighbors will be spying on tonight’s meal. Still, the structure looks extra exposed tonight. Zack wouldn’t mind some brick or even some concrete, something solid to block the outside world.

Nola lets them all inside with her key. Weird Hal is in the kitchen, making some kind of soup. Judging by the smells, he’s used all the spices in his cabinet. Hal is what you’d call an adventurous cook. You’d call him that because you can’t call him a good cook.

“Cutting it close, young lady,” he says gruffly without turning away from the stove. “Did you bring Mr. Wyatt with you?”

“She did,” says Lamar. “Good to see you, Mr. Halwin. Thanks for having me.”

“I brought our friend Zack Silver too,” Nola adds. “If you don’t mind another person?”

“Does it matter if I mind? I can’t exactly throw him out now that he’s here.” Hal finally looks over at them. For a guy who’s in his eighties, he has an amazing energy in his face. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was angry. But he’s just intensely alert. The thick eyebrows are always furrowed, like they’re waiting for birds to nest in them. The eyes are always sharp and watchful. It’s half impressive, half terrifying. “Mr. Silver, make yourself useful and help Nola set the table. Mr. Wyatt, taste this. Tell me if it has enough salt.”

Five minutes later they’re sitting in the dining room eating. Hal quizzes each of them in turn about school, sports, jobs. Zack waits it out. You don’t try to steer a conversation with Weird Hal. You let him ask the questions, wait for him to leave you an opening.

The full-length glass walls look out onto the endless Pacific. Zack suddenly notices that Hal has no family photos on display, no artwork or maps, no certificates or plaques. The guy doesn’t need to decorate his walls, because the walls are also windows. Zack has never thought about this before. It feels sad to him for some reason.

“What’s the matter with all of you?” Hal finally demands. “Something wrong with the food?”

“No, sir,” they all say.

“It’s just been kind of an upsetting day,” Nola begins. She launches into the story of the lost tourist. Hal keeps eating, but the spoonfuls move more slowly. When Nola finishes, he doesn’t comment.

Zack drops a question into the silence. “When’s the last time there was an accident like that on Wardwell Island, Mr. Halwin?”

“Oh, probably seventy-some years ago,” says Hal dismissively. “But I’m not surprised to hear that it’s happening now.”

The present tense—happening—surprises Zack. But he focuses on the more important part. “Why aren’t you surprised?”

Weird Hal takes a long, slow slurp of soup. He seems determined to suck every drop off his spoon. “Because this island is cursed.”