Fox Island (19 page)

“Whoa, stress city. Tell me about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What
do
you want to do?”

“I think I’ll go into the bedroom and
cry.”

“What do you want
me
to do?”

“Cook dinner.”

“Are you kidding?”

Price pounded through the living room toward
the bedroom.

Tony guessed she wasn’t kidding.

Lord, the woman’s almost fifty. Doesn’t this
every month moody thing ever come to an end?

Maybe he should have stayed and chowed down
with the Navy.

Tony finished cooking supper when the phone
rang. He left the receiver on the counter and tiptoed to the master
bedroom. “Hey, babe?”

“I’m in the bathroom washing my face.”

“Mr. Bennington’s on the phone. He said he
was supposed to call Melody at this time, but Melody’s not in her
loft. Do you know what’s going on?”

“Oh no!” She cried again.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know where Melody is,” she
wailed.

“Is she lost?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you want me to tell
Bennington?”

“I don’t know!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

When Tony hung up, Price emerged, eyes red
and puffy, hair damp, no dimples. “Did you fix things with
Bennington?”

“It’s all set. I persuaded Bennington to
give me his number at the hospital. Melody can call him tonight or
tomorrow. How are you doing?”

“Better. A good cry and a face wash can help
almost anything.”

“Do you want to tell me about your day?”

“Not really.”

“Are you hungry?”

“What did you cook?”

“I slaved all afternoon over your favorite
stir-fry.”

They ate at the counter as Tony related his
experiences at the Acoustic Lab and aboard the U.S. Navy
submarine.

“They really are developing cloaking devices
to throw off the sonar?” Price asked.

Tony’s waved his hands in a big
circle. “Yeah and working on machines to pick up sound when the
cloaking devices are on. It’s incredible. Sort of like
Hunt for Red October.”

“How much of that can you use?”

“All of that is public knowledge. But it
makes me wonder what they’re keeping secret.”

Price cocked her head. “You think it will
fit into the flow of the book?”

“Don’t know. Most of it sounds too
technical. But I was able to pick up declassified Navy info from
the 1940s that includes proposed defense plans for the possible
invasion of Puget Sound. The data has been cleared by the Freedom
of Information Act. It’s all cataloged and computerized. I was able
to pull out everything that mentioned Fox Island.”

“You mean stuff like checking out Harvey
Peterson’s Japanese invasion claims?”

“Exactly. I haven’t had a chance to look
through it yet, but isn’t that great? There’s got to be something
in there that will make the book really zing with authenticity. I
don’t even think old Harvey has seen some of this yet.”

“I’m glad one of us is having a good
day.”

He touched the chin of her drooping face.
“How you doin’, babe?”

“Oh, I’m all right, except for spending most
of my time trying to keep myself under control. All of a sudden
this stuff spews out. It’s extremely humbling.”

“Which reminds me, I had another idea about
how to handle chapter five. But maybe now isn’t a good time to talk
about it.”

“I’m fine, really. What’s your idea?”

“How about you editing it down to
twenty-five pages?”

“You’d let me edit it, my way?”

“You work on it, then I thought we’d take a
look together.”

“Are you doing this because I’m on a crying
jag?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’m glad it has at least some minor,
redeeming value. I’ll start tomorrow.”

“Meanwhile, what should we do about
Melody?”

“Her mother said she left her house about
3:00. She thought she was headed back to the Island.”

“Maybe she had car trouble. Should we go
looking for her? She is a grown woman. She could call if she had
car trouble or something.”

“What would you do if she were one of your
daughters?” Price asked.

“Go look for her.”

“Maybe I should stay here, in case you miss
her. I could tell her to call Bennington.”

“I’ll drive toward her mother’s at Gig
Harbor. That VW should be easy to spot.”

Price let out a deep sigh. “Thanks, Tony.
Sorry I’m having such a bad day.”

“Babe, you on a bad day beats any other
woman I know on a good day. And, lady, when you are having a good
day ... wow! You make my whole life zing.”

“You always were the absolutely craziest guy
I ever dated.” She gave him a full dimple smile.

“And you’re the prettiest one I ever
dated.”

“I’m the only one you ever dated.”

“That, too.”

Tony drove to Barbara Mason’s house, but
didn’t go in. He headed back to Fox Island and reached the bridge
when he remembered Price’s suggestion to check at Kim’s and Jessica
Reynolds’ convalescent home. By dark he hiked up the overgrown walk
to the white caulked log cabin on Gibson Point. A four-totem pole
peered from behind overgrown shrubs like an ancient grotesque
sentinel.

To reach the front porch, he rolled aside a
four-foot wagon wheel, which slid into a groove in the dirt that
seemed to be its permanent position. Only a screen door separated
him from the cluttered front room. Walls crammed with darkly
painted unframed artist’s canvases. On the floor, paint tubes
scattered around three separate easels.

He knocked. “Excuse me? Anyone home?” Surely
no one would wander off and leave everything turned on and opened
up. “Kim? Are you home?” He heard a rumble from the back of the
cabin.

“She ain’t here!”

“Kim’s not here?”

“That’s what I said. Go away.”

“Have you seen Melody Mason?”

“No!”

“Who are you?”

“Amigo.”

“Hey, Amigo, I’d like to talk to you.”

A tall man with shaved head and wearing only
jeans finally emerged in the dim light. The left side of his entire
body was painted black, the right side blue. “Yeah? What are you
staring at?”

“Your suntan.”

“What about it?”

“I’m looking for Melody. When Kim comes in,
could you please ask her to phone the Shadowbrooks at Melody’s
grandmother’s place?”

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Are you
Melody’s old man?”

“No. I’m her... I’m sort of like her
father.”

“No foolin’?”

“And no foolin’ around. Understand?”

“Si, yo comprendo.”

“Bueno. Adios, Amigo.”

Tony didn’t spot the VW bus at the
convalescent home, and didn’t bother asking if Melody had been
there, not wanting to disturb Jessica Reynolds. Finally, he
returned home to find a brand-new black Dodge pickup blocking the
driveway. He parked on the lawn. “Great. We’ve got company.”

Fast, high-pitched female voices caught his
attention as he hung his cowboy hat on a hallway peg. “Price?” he
called.

She stepped to the hall, her face reflecting
a blend of tanned Arizona charm and professorial dignity. “Melody’s
here. We’ve got lots of news for you.”

Inside the kitchen, he saw Melody and
another girl about Melody’s age, in jeans and blue-and-black plaid
long-sleeved shirt, auburn braids twisted on top of her head. She
inhaled Diet Coke and potato chips. Melody’s dark hair pulled back
in a wavy roll on the sides and hung down long with ringlets in the
back.

“Hi, Mr. S. Sorry I caused you to worry.
Actually, it feels sort of nice to have someone worry about me.
It’s been a long time. This is Kim.”

Olive-skinned Kim hopped down from the
counter stool and held out her hand. A little shorter than Melody,
Tony noticed a small rose tattoo on the back of her right hand.
“Mr. Shadowbrook, Mel has told me so much about you. I feel like I
know you already.”

“I believe I just met a friend of yours at
your place.”

“Who?”

“Amigo.”

“Not at my place?”

Tony nodded.

“Is he in the cabin? Or out front?”

“He’s definitely inside.”

“What color was he?”

Price handed Tony a Coke.

“Black and blue.”

“Oh yeah, right, sure. Today he decides to
be black and blue. But he spent the last two weeks orange and
purple. Well, it’s too late. He already ruined it for us.” Kim
swung around to Melody as one of her braids dropped out of its
nest. “I’m staying with you tonight. I’m not about to go home if
he’s black and blue.”

Tony turned to Price whose eyes narrowed as
she shrugged. “Is that your new pickup, Kim?” he asked.

“It’s mine,” Melody piped in.

Tony’s head jerked toward the window.
“Yours?”

“See, here’s the thing. I did a pretty good
job with stock trading this past quarter, so I treated myself to a
new vehicle. Sure I’ll have payments, but what with the teaching
job, I figured I could do it. After I visited Mom, I picked up Kim
and we drove to Tacoma and I bought that sucker.”

“That’s great,” Tony replied, “but why a
truck?”

“You said my VW looked like the ultra
radical tree huggers’, so I wanted something to express my
personality better.”

“What expression does a a new black Dodge
pickup make?” Price asked.

Kim giggled. “That she’s looking for a
cowboy.”

Melody grinned from earring to
earring.“ He doesn’t have to
be
a cowboy. He just has to
look
like one.”

Kim crunched an empty bag of chips. “Mel,
let’s go cruising.”

“On Fox Island?” several voices echoed.

“Nah, let’s drive up to Bremerton and
Silverdale.”

“Yeah, let’s do it. Dr. S., you’ll have to
fill in on the call to Mr. Bennington. Don’t stay up for me. Mr.
S., can I borrow one of your cowboy hats?”

Tony handed her his old gray hat with a
slight rip in the brim. “Take good care of it.” He shook his head
as Melody and Kim roared up the driveway. “Well, Mother,” he
drawled, “our little girl is growing up.”

“Sometimes it does seem like we’re raising
her.”

Tony grimaced. “As long as she doesn’t move
back to Scottsdale with us. And to think, we’ve only known her
seven weeks. Come on, kid. You’re looking a lot better. Tell me
about the conversation with Bennington.”

Tony and Price settled onto the sofa. The
light from the kitchen reflected into the darkened room. The open
curtains of the front sliding windows revealed a few stars
flickering through the nighttime reflections. Price cuddled close
to Tony in the shadows.

“You feeling better, darlin’?”

“Yes, thank you. Oh, I guess I’m a little
envious.”

“Of whom?”

She laughed. “Of Melody’s new pickup.”

“Women and pickup trucks. It’s a western
tradition, isn’t it?”

“Or a statement of independence. Anyway, was
this Amigo guy really painted black and blue?”

“Yep.”

“No wonder Kim doesn’t want to go home.”

“I was just wondering what we’d do if one of
our girls brought home a guy with body paint.”

“He’d probably get to see the barrel end of
her daddy’s gun collection.”

“Tell me about Bennington.”

“You were right about his health. He doesn’t
think he has many weeks left. There’s no way he can come back to
the West Coast.”

“Did you find out why he came out?”

“He explained it all to Melody, so I got it
second-hand. He met her mother’s Auntie Jill in Boston in May of
1942. Jessica had just eloped with Mr. Reynolds. Jill went to a War
Bond rally to hear Benny Goodman. The war was raging in Europe and
the Pacific, and Bennington knew he would be called up any day. So
a bunch of them, guys and gals, went to New York for one last
fling. And... he and Jill... well...”

“Had a good time?”

“That’s one way to put it. Anyway, she
called him a few weeks later to tell him she thought she was
pregnant and she wanted to talk to him about it. They were supposed
to meet at a certain cafe. But he panicked and didn’t show.”

“He stood her up?”

“That’s about it, except he told Melody he
wrote a note to her at Radcliffe later on, but it was returned
marked undeliverable. After the war he went back to college on the
GI bill, then got into trading stocks and bonds.”

“And now he’s with CMI?”

“He’s chairman of the board.”

“You’re kidding.”

“That’s what he claims. When he found out he
was dying of cancer, he suddenly became acutely aware of the
failures in his life. His wife died a few years ago, and his only
child, a daughter, lives in Rio.”

“Brazil?”

“Yes. He said she hasn’t spoken to him in
years.”

“So, he’s a lonely old rich man, dying with
memories of personal failure?” Tony mused.

“That’s about it. He said he wrote down
twelve things he wanted to do before he died, and apologizing to
Jill was one of them.”

“He’s about fifty-some years too late for
that.”

“He was pretty stunned to learn Jill died in
1942. All this time he’s lived with the idea that on Fox Island
there was a lady and grown child who hated him.”

“And Jessica?”

“He figures Jill must have told her sister
about the pregnancy and how he ran out on her and that’s the reason
she’s still so mad at him.”

“If Jill was pregnant, then a baby died,
too, in that wreck. Another reason the thought of it haunts
Jessica.”

“He didn’t think it would help for him to
speak to Jessica. He could tell her nothing new. And if she didn’t
know Jill was expecting, he thinks it’s best not to bring it
up.”

“He’s probably right.”