Bulls Island (28 page)

“Good question. Well, there’s just no good news anywhere, is there?”

“No. Apparently not.” J.D. took off his sunglasses and I took off mine. We looked at each other long and hard. Each of us was confident of the other’s ability to stay cool while we got everything straightened out.

“J.D., we need a plan to secure this place. Pronto.”

“Got one. My guys are bringing two trailers over on a barge. We were gonna do that anyway, for office space. But I got four of the guys to agree to start sleeping out here and they have shotguns. We’re gonna post signs and run fencing around the equipment with barbed wire around the top. And of course the SC Wildlife men are gonna do another gator roundup.”

“Yeah, I thought the gators were all gone to Capers.”

“They were, but somebody forgot they can swim.”

“Clearly. Right. Of course they can. Did you talk to the press?”

“I just told them that Langley and Triangle deeply regretted the terrible trauma caused by the criminal actions of the radical environmentalist group who destroyed our private property. And I told them that we had not decided whether or not to press charges. Personally, I think he suffered enough. What do you think?”

“I think it would be seriously lousy to put that guy in jail. But the ones that ran away? I say, let ’em hang.”

“Whoo! That’s cold, Betts. Better let me do the talking. You know, in the interest of public support?”

“You’re right. That’s probably best.”

Oddly, the press was not that interested in talking to us. I watched as the reporters spoke to their cameras, pointing to the spot where the alligator had attacked the trespasser. Their eyes grew wide with ex
citement as they recounted the event, gesturing to the marsh and the birds of prey overhead. It seemed that they were more concerned with the
human-interest
story of the poor idiot who almost lost his life in the name of industrial sabotage. And they were clearly painting Bulls Island as a dangerous place. I had little doubt we would be thoroughly vilified in tomorrow’s papers and on the evening news. But they pretty much shot their footage, got back on the ferryboat, and left.

I took some digital pictures to send to Bruton so he would be in the loop before the story went out on the wire. I could have sent him pictures from my phone, but they wouldn’t have really explained the situation as well as an e-mail and a phone call outlining the steps we intended to take to correct the problem. I knew Ben Bruton well enough to know he wanted his problems to be delivered soaked in solutions.

J.D. was busy with the construction foreman for a while.

“How long is it going to take to clean all this up?” he asked.

“Well, we gotta get a barge over here. That’s gonna take a day, maybe two…”

“Then we have to wait for new backhoes and trucks?”

“Yeah. That’s not gonna be all that complicated. We already made some calls.”

I listened, and soon, when it was apparent there was nothing more we could do until replacement equipment arrived, it was time to leave. We got in a Langley truck for the short drive to the dock.

“Well, this is a setback,” I said.

“Yeah, but almost predictable. So, listen,” he said, “you haven’t told me anything. How was your trip to New York?”

“Almost as much fun as my impromptu get-together with your mother this morning.”

“What? Where did you see her?”

“She was waiting at my office this morning when I got there.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted us to remain celibate until your wife is completely stable. J.D., what’s going on with Valerie?”

“Ah, shoot.” He cocked his head to the side, screwed his lips up, and I knew he was going to take a minute before he continued. “What did she tell you?”

I told him and he said “ah, shoot” under his breath about ten times.

“Look, here’s what happened. I flushed all of Valerie’s medications down the toilet and she went crazy. Totally, completely, lost it. Ever since then she’s been screaming, blaming you and me, saying we’re ruining her life. First, she promised to go seek help and then she apparently changed her mind. Over the weekend, she was out till all hours and it appears that she has acquired another source for her drugs—probably from some street dealer because I found a bunch of pills in a baggie.”

“Did you throw them out?”

“No, it was just this morning that I found them and then the phone call came about the vandalism, and besides, it wouldn’t do any good because she has a new source. She’ll just go buy more. No prescription required. I have to think this thing through.”

“Well, it’s not going to help Valerie get her bearings if we appear to be involved in any capacity other than professional. My firm was not pleased by the papers from last week.”

“I’ll bet. So what did you tell them?”

“That it was not the sordid business it appeared to be, but pretty much I told my boss the truth.”

“So is your job in any kind of jeopardy?”

“No. He’s coming down with two of the partners. He wants us to launch a full-fledged campaign for public awareness and education. Talk about a timely idea? Wait till he hears about this flipping alligator almost eating this idiot alive! They’re not gonna like this at the home office, you know.”

“As if it was my fault?”

“J.D., no one blames you. I’d say Mother Nature takes the hit for this, right?”

I reached over and patted his hand the same way I would any other colleague and he stopped the truck. Of course we
had
arrived at the dock, so it made perfect sense to stop the truck, but he took my hand in his and started to pull me toward him.

“Betts?”

“Not now, J.D. I…I promised your momma.”

“My momma?”

Then we started to laugh more from nerves than anything else. And once again, the anticipation of being together had been ratcheted up to a higher level. One way or another, we would find our way through the morass of weeds and traps and we would be together. Maybe.

I had to wait to see what toll honesty would take. Waiting. Waiting for the players on the chessboard to assume their new positions, castles to tumble, knights to make a wrong turn, the king to fall, the dark queen to be captured…the future had become a terrible balancing act between confusion and surety. The stars were almost perfectly aligned, but so far there was no relief in sight.

On the boat ride back to the mainland, we would look at each other and say “your momma” or “my momma” and shake our heads, incredulous that Louisa had the cheek to take a moral stance about anything. The rest of our conversation was punctuated with groans over the man in the hospital and how this additional trouble was going to play itself out. Would some environmentalist group perhaps file a motion for an injunction to stop the work? Or for a civil suit against us? After all, Gatorzilla did constitute the epitome of a hostile work environment. Nah, we agreed, too far-fetched. But somewhere out there, we knew there was a lawyer trying to scheme an angle to make money out of this.

“What an awful mess. I guess I’ll see you later?” I asked, climbing out of the boat.

“Sooner is better than later,” he said. “What do you say we just happen to bump into each other at Sela’s? Have a fast drink around six?”

“I say let’s not tempt the devils. We’ve got enough trouble as it is. Besides, I promised Dad I would bring them dinner. So after I give New York the news, send them updates on everything, and close up the office for the day, I have to run to the butcher and the grocery store.”

“So you can cook, too?”

“Cook? Me cook? Of course I can cook! I can cook anything!”

“Liar. Your eye is twitching.”

“Shut up!”

“Well, it is…see you tomorrow?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Try not to poison your family!” he called out as he got back into his truck.

“Yeah, and that’s not an option with yours either!” I called back. Too bad it isn’t, I thought.

Given the nightmares of the day, we were in pretty high spirits.

That is until about fifteen minutes after Bruton got my e-mail and my phone rang.

“McGee? I am beginning to doubt the worthiness of this deal. I mean, are people so opposed to the development that they would be willing to die for it?”

“It’s a small group of radicals. I’m sure of it. Ben, obviously I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I think we have seen the last incident of this type. The good news is that everything is covered by insurance and that there are more backhoes in South Carolina than you can count. We’ll have then all replaced this week. We will only miss a day or two.”

“So, you think the risk–reward factor is still there?”

“Yes, most definitely. And listen, we’ve still got Gatorzilla on our side.”

“Some secret weapon. That poor son of a gun. Last time he’ll go vandalizing a work site. Think he’s gonna make it?”

“Who knows? I wonder if he’ll even
want
to make it when he realizes what’s happened to him. I’d sleep with a light on for the rest of my life, at the very least.”

“Okay, then. Thanks for the update and keep those memos coming.”

We hung up and I looked at my watch. Somehow the day had slipped away and it was after four. I called Joanie on her cell.

“Hey! It’s me.”

“You think I don’t know your voice?”

“Right. You still want Ginger Evans to straighten out your haircut?”

“Oh, why not? It can’t look any worse than it does.”

“I’ll call you back.”

“Whatever.”

I could tell you why Joanie had never been within spitting distance of an altar and it would be a very brief conversation.

“Okay. Stand by.”

I clicked off and looked at the phone. Then I called Sandi.

“Please, do me a small favor, will you? Call the spa at Stella Nova and ask if Ginger has had any cancellations for a cut and a blowout. Tell her it’s for my sister and she looks like the mad professor whose head got struck by lightning. Twice.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Don’t ask. She went to the wrong groomer. I think it was inspired by meeting your brother.”

“The German shepherd? The thought of him having a relationship with anyone is so bizarre…this weekend he asked me for Joanie’s number, by the way.”

“Ah, come on. He’s a nice guy. I hope you gave it to him.”

“Of course! Yeah, he’s nice enough, but he lives like a dog. Anyway, I’ll go make the call…”

“Thanks.”

I was having an attack of narcolepsy from reading an engineer’s report on water and sewage when Sandi buzzed me.

“If she gets over there right now, they can take her.”

“You’re an angel!”

I dialed Joanie and told her to move herself as fast as possible.

“Oh, who cares?” she said.

“Listen to me, you want Cam Wilkins to romance you? Move it!”

“He called me.”

“Good. I want to hear all about it. Meanwhile, people drive here from Charlotte and Atlanta to see Ginger Evans and it takes
months
to get in, so hurry!”

“How did you—”

“You’re wasting valuable time. I’ll tell you tonight. Now go! Run!”

I hung up on her so she couldn’t tell me to cancel the appointment. Honestly, besides Louisa, Joanie was the most frustrated and the most frustrating woman I had ever known. Ever. Really.

A few hours passed and then I was back in my dad’s house with sacks of groceries. I had bought the ingredients for a Bolognese sauce, salad, and garlic bread. Soon the air was perfumed with garlic and onions, sautéing in olive oil. I set the kitchen table the same way I had seen Joanie and Dad do it, not wanting to offend anyone by suggesting we clean up the dining room and use it as the good Lord intended.

“Can I make you a drink?” Dad offered.

“I think a glass of wine would be better for the sake of the cook’s sobriety. I bought a Barolo. It’s a pretty good one.”

“Well, thank you. Now, where is my jigger?”

“Right here, Dad.”

Of course it was right where it had been the last time I was in the kitchen. But just because he didn’t see it at once didn’t mean he had dementia.

“Ah! Thanks.”

He was mixing his drink and I could see by his expression that he was worried.

“What’s wrong, Dad?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You have an expression of concern on your face. That’s all.”

“Well, I heard about that whole ballyhoo out on Bulls Island and I was just thinking that I hope you are being very careful, that’s all.”

“Don’t worry about me, Dad. I’m very careful and safe.”

I added some chopped bell pepper to the sauce and stirred it around, giving it a shake of salt and a couple of grinds of pepper.

“Okay, if you say so. Cheers.”

We touched the rims of our glasses and he looked at me with watery eyes.