In Too Deep (12 page)

“They weren't any worse than J.C. and some of the other kids from school,” someone said. We both turned toward the door. Colleen had a bucket of chalk in her hand. It was obvious that she had been listening to us.

“J.C. doesn't have a criminal record,” Mr. Duggan said.

“You don't have to have a criminal record to act like a bunch of jerks. Which J.C. and his friends do all the time when they're in here,” Colleen said. “But when they act up, you just tell them to knock it off. You don't threaten to call the cops.”

“That's because I don't have to worry that J.C. is going to pull out a knife or that he's going to come back in the middle of the night and trash the place.”

“Steven would never have done anything like that,” Colleen said.

Steven? Who was Steven?

“The lunch rush starts in half an hour,” Mr. Duggan said. “Everything had better be prepped back there, or your mom's not going to be happy.”

Colleen glowered at her dad for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Do you know of any storeowners in town who have had a positive experience with Larry Wilson's kids?”

“Not a one,” Duggan said without hesitation. “Nobody wanted those kids to move up here. Nobody wants their children hanging out with them. One way or another, this town is going to shut that place down.”

I thanked him for his time. I was beginning to understand that this was going to be a hard story to write. So far the townspeople I had spoken to came off sounding worse than Mr. Wilson's kids. Okay, maybe they had some grievances—Lucas had shoplifted, albeit clumsily, and another kid had done some damage at the marina restaurant. But Mr. Kastner and Mr. Duggan talked about those incidents as if they were crimes of the century.

When I got back to the café where I had left Morgan, she was alone.

“Where's Sea-Doo Boy?” I said.

She gave me a sour look. “With his girlfriend, who, by the way, has obvious self-esteem issues. The way she acted, you'd have thought I was trying to steal Chris. I guess these local girls aren't used to competition.”

“Competition?” I said. “You mean you were trying to steal him?”

“We were just
talking
, Robyn. It's not my fault that he was enjoying himself.”

I stared at her.

“What?” she said.

“Billy,” I said.

“I have the cutest, most comfortable pair of boots at home,” she said. I knew the ones she meant. She practically lived in them when the weather got cold.

“Relevance?”

“Those boots are irreplaceable. Nothing even comes close. I wouldn't sell them or give them away—ever. But that doesn't mean I can't go window shopping just for fun. Anyway, I was doing you a favor.”

“Me? I'm not in the market for new boots either, Morgan.”

“But you are in the market for information about Larry's kids. When I told Chris why you were going to the marina, he said you should talk to Colleen Duggan.”

“Did he say why?”

“Colleen went out with one of those kids. The guy's name was Steven. And Robyn?” Morgan's expression was somber. “Chris said that he's dead.”

“Dead?” Lucas had told Nick that Alex Richmond wasn't the only one of Mr. Wilson's kids who had died. “Did he say what happened?”

“He got lost in the woods. He died of exposure.”

“When did this happen?”

“Last winter.”

I frowned. “Are you sure? I went through all the back issues of the
Lakesider
. I saw a story about Alex Richmond's death, but I didn't see anything about a kid dying of exposure.”

“I'm just telling you what Chris said. And I didn't get the impression that he was making it up.”

“Come on,” I said.

“Where are we going?”

“I hear they make a good burger down at the marina restaurant. And we haven't had lunch.”

  .    .    .

Al Duggan hadn't been kidding about the lunch rush. By the time Morgan and I got back to the marina, the restaurant was jammed. Colleen was one of only two waitresses, but she wasn't ours. Morgan and I ordered and lingered over our lunches. Gradually the place cleared out as vacationers headed out to one of the nearby beaches, climbed back into their boats, or strolled into town.

“Can I get you anything else?” our waitress said.

I glanced around but didn't see Colleen anywhere.

“No, we're good,” I said. After she left, I told Morgan I would be right back. I headed for the washroom but peeked through the kitchen door. No Colleen.

We paid for our meal and left the restaurant, then started toward the dock.

“Hey!” someone called.

I turned.

It was Colleen. She was behind the restaurant, beckoning to me.

“I want to talk to you about something,” she said. “I have a break in twenty minutes. Meet me at the bandstand on the beach. You know where it is?”

“I do,” Morgan said.

It took us almost the whole twenty minutes to get there. It turns out it isn't easy to walk over sand when you're on crutches.

“Three more weeks,” Morgan grumbled. “And then this stupid cast comes off.” A little later: “There's sand in it. I can feel it. It's going to drive me crazy.”

“You don't have to come, Morgan. You can wait for me at the marina.”

“Stop babying me, Robyn. I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” She didn't sound fine. “Besides, we're almost there.”

Colleen showed up a few minutes later.

“I heard you talking to my dad,” she said. “You're doing a story on Larry's kids?”

I nodded.

“Are you going to write what my dad said?”

“About Steven, you mean?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I heard he died, Colleen.”

She wiped her hand across her cheeks and drew in a deep breath.

“He was nice,” she said. “Sweet, you know?”

“Your dad said he vandalized the restaurant.”

“I know what he said. He tells everyone the same thing. But that's not what happened. Steven came into the restaurant last fall. The marina slows down after Labor Day. By Thanksgiving it closes. But Dad keeps the restaurant open year-round. There's a lot of winter sports up here—ice fishing, snowmobiling, cross-country skiing. That keeps us afloat. I usually have to help out after school and on weekends. Dad likes to keep as much money as possible in the family. Anyway, one afternoon I was there. The place was practically deserted, and this guy came in.”

“Steven?”

She nodded. “He was looking for a phone. There's an ancient pay phone just inside the door. I was sitting in a booth, doing homework. My dad was in the kitchen. I saw Steven, but I don't think he saw me at first. He was making a long-distance call. I know because he tried to reverse the charges. But whoever he was calling refused to accept. I heard him arguing with the operator. He kept saying it was important. But it didn't do any good. He hung up, but he didn't leave. He just stood there. He looked kind of sad, you know? So I got a bunch of change out of the till and I gave it to him so he could make his call.

“At first he didn't want to accept it. But he finally took the money and made his call. I couldn't hear what he was saying at first—he was hunched over the phone, and I was sitting in a back booth, you know, to give him some privacy. But I guess the call didn't go the way he wanted, 'cause he started to talk really loud.”

“What was he saying?”

“He wanted to go home.”

“You mean he wanted to leave Mr. Wilson's place?”

She nodded again. “What my dad said, about how he broke the phone, then the window? He makes it sound like Steven just came in and started smashing the place up. But it wasn't like that. Steven was begging whoever he was talking to to let him leave.”

“Did he say why he wanted to go?”

“If he did, I didn't hear it. But I did hear him promise that he'd be good, that he wouldn't make any trouble, stuff like that. Then all of a sudden he was just standing there, staring at the receiver like he got hung up on. Then he slammed it down—hard. I guess he was really upset, because he did it again and again. My dad came out of the kitchen to see what was going on, and just then Steven slammed the receiver down so hard that it broke.

“Dad grabbed him by the collar. Steven fought back. I mean, wouldn't you if someone grabbed you all of a sudden and started screaming at you? Dad was shouting, getting really scary. Even I wasn't sure if he was going to hit Steven or something. Steven tried to get free of him. I guess he pushed my dad, because Dad slammed against the window—it got this huge crack in it. But Steven didn't run away or anything like that. He tried to help Dad up. But Dad shoved him away. Steven tried to apologize. My dad wouldn't listen. He called the cops.”

“What did Steven do?”

“He didn't do anything.”

“He didn't take off before the cops came?”

“Nope. He just stood there while my dad called him a loser, told him he was going to be sorry he ever set foot in the restaurant, stuff like that. Then Chief Lafayette showed up. He handcuffed Steven and took a statement from my dad, and that was it. It wasn't the way Dad told you. I wanted you to know. I didn't want you to write what my dad said.”

“Your dad told me that Mr. Wilson got the charges against Steven dropped,” I said.

Colleen nodded. “You can't believe how angry Dad was when he heard. He made banned the rest of Mr. Wilson's kids from the place. He said he had half a mind to ban the police from the restaurant, too.” When I looked puzzled, she said, “The police station is right across the road. Chief Lafayette and his deputy are regulars. One comes in on chicken night, the other comes in whenever my mom makes her special meatloaf. My dad liked having them around. He still does. He says when people see cops eating there, they know it's a good place. A place where there's no trouble. But he was pretty mad when Chief Lafayette let Steven off with a warning.”

“It sounds like a lot of people in town don't like Larry's kids,” I said.

“That's for sure. Maybe some of those kids are trouble, I don't know. But Steven wasn't bad. A little while after he was in the restaurant, I was walking home from school and I saw Steven on the road. He was waiting for me. He wanted to pay back the money I had given him from the till. He said he was sorry for breaking the phone. If he was such a punk, he wouldn't have bothered apologizing.”

Steven sounded a lot like Nick—sure, he had a temper, but apart from that he was a decent person.

“Did you see him again after that?”

She looked away.

“I won't put it in my story, Colleen. I promise.”

“Then why do you want to know?”

I hesitated and glanced at Morgan, who shook her head.

“I went out to Larry Wilson's place a couple of times,” I said. “It seems like a good place. The guys out there seemed well behaved. They're learning all kinds of things. They work hard. But when I talk to people in town ...”

“If I tell you, you have to promise you won't write about it,” Colleen said.

“I promise.”

“Mr. Wilson lets the guys come to town once a week—usually Thursday afternoon. They mostly have to stay in pairs or groups, and he's really strict about the time. Steven said he's strict about everything. But—the guy Steven used to pair up with would sometimes let Steven go off on his own. Steven said he thought the guy was seeing someone in town. So Steven would come and see me.”

“At the marina?”

“You kidding? And take the chance he'd run into my dad? After that first time, when he paid me back, I told him I would be at the library on Thursdays. We'd meet there and then find somewhere more private where we could talk. Steven was nice. He just wanted to go home—not that he had much of a home to go to.”

“Did he have problems with his parents?”

“He didn't have parents. He didn't have anyone. No brothers or sisters. No uncles, aunts, grandparents, not a single person in the world. Can you imagine what that must have been like?”

After knowing Nick for as long as I had, I sort of could. “What kind of home did he have?”

“He was in foster care with some other kids. He was talking to his foster parents on the phone that day. But they didn't want him back. Steven said they weren't the greatest people. He said he thought they just did it for the money. They told him they had no room for him, that he was better off where he was. I think he felt like nobody wanted him.”

“Then why would he want to go back?” Morgan asked.

“He said he didn't like it out at Larry's place.”

“Did he say what he didn't like about it?” I asked.

“He didn't want to talk about it. He just said he didn't like what was happening out there and that he'd rather be back in the city, even if it meant trying to make it on his own.”

“We heard he got lost in the woods. Do you know how that happened?”

“Yeah. He told me he was going to leave. He said he'd get in touch with me as soon as he got settled in the city. After that, I didn't hear from him for weeks. I was so worried. Then I heard someone say that one of Larry's kids had run away. By the time they found him he'd frozen to death. He was such a city kid. They said he wasn't dressed right to be in the woods in the middle of winter. And it can be confusing out there if you're not used to it. All those trees look pretty much the same, and everything was covered with snow. They said he'd been walking in circles.” A tear trickled down her cheek.

“I didn't see anything in the paper about it,” I said after a few moments.

“At first Mr. Wilson didn't tell anyone that Steven had run away. I heard he was afraid how people would react. You know what they think of those kids. And then when he was found—” She wiped away a few more tears. “He was found on Mr. Henderson's resort.”