In Too Deep (14 page)

“None taken.”

His eyes lingered on me a moment longer. Then, to Nick: “Come on. We'd better get back.”

He pulled his keys from his pocket and headed for the truck.

Nick tucked his newspaper under his arm and climbed up in. I waited until they had driven away before I dug in my own pocket for some change, then opened the dispenser and lifted up one newspaper after another until, finally, there it was, a folded piece of paper. I plucked it out along with a newspaper. It was only as I was closing the box that I realized that someone was watching me: Phil Varton, armored against the sun in his long-sleeved shirt and gloves, spit-polished boots peeking out from under his crisp uniform pants. He peered at me through his mirrored sunglasses. I nodded an acknowledgement, folded my newspaper, and crossed the street to the newspaper office. He was still watching me when I headed inside, wondering how long he had been out there, what, if anything, he had seen, and whether it even mattered.

  .    .    .

“I don't think it's a very good idea,” Morgan said when I climbed onto the dock after work.

“I don't have a choice. I have to go. He wants to talk to me. What if it's important?”

“He wants to meet you in the middle of nowhere.” Morgan nodded at the map that Nick had left for me between newspapers along with a time when he wanted to meet. “Why doesn't he just call you and tell you whatever it is?”

“I don't know. He must have trouble getting to a phone,” I said. The only one I had seen at Mr. Wilson's place was in the kitchen. Nick didn't have a cell phone. Bruno hadn't had one with him, either, when he had stopped to help me out of the ditch. Wilson must have had some kind of rule against them. “Or maybe he wants to show me something.”

“In the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere? The last time you were out there at night you saw a bear, remember?”

“Nick wouldn't ask me to meet him someplace that wasn't safe.”

“Maybe he hasn't heard about that bear.”

“You said that that bear was spotted around here. Are you afraid to be here alone, Morgan? Is that it?”

“Of course not,” Morgan said stiffly. Then she softened. “Well, maybe a little. But bears have legs, Robyn. They get around. I'm serious. What if you go out there to meet Nick and you run into a bear instead?”

“I'll be in the car,” I told her. “And this time I won't drive into the ditch. I'll be fine. I promise.”

  .    .    .

Later that night I took the boat across to the marina. I glanced up at Al Duggan's restaurant as I headed for my car. The Closed sign was in the door, but the lights were still on and I saw Duggan inside mopping the floor. Colleen was out behind the restaurant, putting a big garbage bag into the trash. She straightened up when she saw me, but she didn't say anything. I got into my car, checked the map Nick had drawn for me, and pulled out of the lot.

I was fine as long as I was driving. But when I pulled over at what I hoped was the right place and killed the lights, my heart started to flutter. I peered into the woods closest to me. It was too dark. If there was a bear in there, I couldn't see it. I turned to check the woods on the other side of the road, too, just in case—

I heard something crunching over the gravel.

My heart stopped in my chest.

Someone rapped on the window. Nick.

I leaned across the front seat and unlocked the door for him. He climbed in and closed and locked the door behind him.

“I'm almost positive I wasn't followed,” he said.

“How did you get here?”

“I walked.”

“Through the woods?”

He nodded.

“There are bears around here, Nick.”

“Well, I didn't see any. Look, I gotta talk fast. I share a room with this guy—he sleeps like a log. Snores, too, which is why I think I got stuck with him. 'Cause I'm the new guy. But the way it works, if your roommate goes AWOL, you're supposed to tell Larry right away. If you don't and your roommate gets caught, you both get punished. Some guys cover for each other, but I don't know my roommate well enough yet for that. I'm working on it, though.”

I still didn't like the idea of him hiking through the woods. “Isn't there a phone somewhere that you can use?” I said, echoing Morgan. “Couldn't you just call me?”

“The only phone is in the house. There's almost always someone around during the day, and at night the house is locked.”

Lights flashed in the side-view mirror. Nick grabbed me and pulled me down so that we couldn't be seen by whoever was driving by.

“Why do I feel like you're taking a terrible chance, Nick?”

He smiled. “Because you always feel like that. You worry too much, Robyn.” His face grew more serious. “But there's definitely something going on back there.”

“What do you mean?”

“The past two nights, guys have left the bunkhouse in the middle of the night.”

“Where did they go?”

“I don't know. All I know is that they left after midnight. Not sure when they got back. I tried to stay awake, but it's a lot harder than you'd think, just sitting there in the dark, waiting. I don't know how cops do it—all those stakeouts, I mean.”

“You couldn't follow them?”

“I tried the first night. But Derek was out in the yard. I told him I had just wanted to get some air, but ...” He glanced around again.

“You think he was watching you?”

“I don't know for sure. But I saw him outside the second night, too, so, yeah, maybe.”

“What about tonight?”

“Far as I know, I'm the only guy out of the bunkhouse. But it's weird, right? A bunch of guys disappear in the middle of the night and stay gone all night, and Derek's out in the yard, like he's keeping watch?”

It was weird, all right. More lights. Another car. We ducked again.

“I think you should get out of there, Nick.”

“Not yet. I have a feeling that something's going to happen. Remember I said I thought they were checking me out?”

I nodded.

“Well, all of a sudden they started asking me a lot of questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Mostly personal stuff—about my family, my past, what I did, things like that. But mostly about my family and who I know back in the city.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That I'm on my own. That I've been trying to get it together since I got out of custody. That kind of stuff.”

“I talked to my dad's friend,” I said.

Nick did not look pleased. “I said no cops. I don't want anyone saying anything to Larry about me. Especially not now. I'm telling you, Robyn. They're up to something. What if that's the reason Lucas wants to get out of there? What if Alex felt the same way? I have to find out what happened to him. I promised Seth.”

“I know. And I didn't mention you to Chief Lafayette. I'm working on that article for the paper, remember? When I talked to him, it was for the article. Nick, he's positive Alex's death was suicide.”

Nick seemed reluctant to believe it.

“Did Lucas say anything about a kid named Steven?” I said.

“Steven? No. Why?”

“There was a kid named Steven who took off last winter.”

“I heard about two other guys who took off,” Nick said. “But neither of them was named Steven. What's his story?”

“His story is that he's dead,” I said. “I was wondering if he's the guy Lucas told you about. He said there was someone besides Alex who died, right?”

Nick nodded. “But he didn't tell me his name.”

I filled him in on what Colleen had told me and what I had learned from Mr. Kastner at the record store.

“It sounds like you were right, Nick. Lucas knew that Mr. Kastner was watching him, but he shoplifted anyway. Kastner said that usually when kids steal, they're not so obvious about it and that they come in groups and one of them distracts him. But the boy who was with Lucas didn't try to distract Kastner. He didn't seem to know what was going on. The way Lucas acted was just plain stupid—unless he wanted to get caught. And that kid Steven? He definitely wanted to get away from Larry Wilson's, even though the only place he had to go was his foster home. Whatever happened to them at Wilson's, the two of them were desperate to get out of there. It doesn't sound safe, Nick. I think you should leave too.”

Nick shook his head. He could be so stubborn.

“Alex told Seth he wanted to leave,” he said. “Maybe he was scared like Lucas is. Maybe someone threatened him. Maybe walking into the lake was the only way he could figure to deal with it. And maybe they're asking me all these questions for a reason—hoping to get me involved in whatever goes on there at night. I have to find out.”

“You said Lucas sounded scared. What if there's a good reason for that, Nick? What if he—”

“I'll be careful, Robyn, I promise. And don't worry—I'm not going to run away, and I'm sure not going to kill myself. Why would I do something like that when I have you out here waiting for me?” He pulled me close to him. “Meet me back here on Friday night, okay? Same time.”

“What if you can't get away?”

“Wait half an hour. If I don't show up, I'll figure out some other way to contact you.”

I didn't like the sound of it.

“Those other two guys who ran away—do you know their names, Nick?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Maybe I could look into it.”

“How? You're not going to talk to that cop again, are you, Robyn?”

“I was thinking maybe Ed Jarvis.” Nick's probation contact. “He might be able to tell me something about those kids. I can tell him the same thing I told my dad's friend: I'm doing a story for the paper. It's not like it's a lie.”

“Okay,” Nick said. “But background only. No details. And don't mention me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He told me the names of the two boys who had run away.

“Friday night, Robyn.”

He kissed me, reached for the door handle, kissed me again, and then got out of the car and disappeared into the night.

I turned the car around and headed back to town. I hadn't gone more than a couple of miles before another car appeared in my rearview mirror. At first it was several car lengths behind me, but the gap soon closed so that all I could see in my side view was the glare of the car's headlights. I started to get nervous. There was no oncoming traffic and the road was wide enough for passing, but the car was tailgating me.

I checked the rearview mirror again. All I could see was a shadowy figure behind the wheel. I increased my speed a little. The car stayed with me.

I told myself not to panic. If the car was still following me by the time I got back to town, I would pull over at the first gas station, restaurant, or fast-food place that I came to and call Dean Lafayette.

Suddenly the car fell back a little. Then it pulled out into the middle of the road and picked up speed again. I felt myself go cold all over as the car drew parallel with me. I glanced over at the driver. It took me a few seconds—I had never seen him without his mirrored sunglasses on. Phil Varton. He looked at me for a moment, then pulled ahead of me.

Get a grip, Robyn
, I told myself.
He's a cop. He's supposed to be one of the good guys.

But Nick didn't share that opinion. He'd seen Varton talking to Larry a couple of times. Varton had also been in charge of investigating Alex Richmond's death.

His taillights got smaller and then disappeared when his car rounded a bend. When I reached the same bend, the road ahead was deserted. I didn't see another car until I reached town. But when I finally got to the marina parking lot and pulled the key out of the ignition, my hands were shaking.

I

called Ed Jarvis from my cell phone the next day during my lunch break. He wasn't in his office, so I left him a message. He didn't return my call until I got back to Morgan's summerhouse that evening. I told him about the article I was writing and gave him the two names that Nick had given me.

“I don't recognize those names,” Ed said. “And even if I did, I'm not sure what I could tell you. Anything in their files is probably confidential—to anyone, especially to the press, which, in this case, you are.”

“I don't want to know about what kind of trouble they were in,” I said. “That's not what my story is about. I was just wondering if you could find out where they are now or what happened to them after they left Larry Wilson's place. If I can track them down, maybe they would agree to talk to me.”

I heard a chuckle at the other end of the phone. “Your dad was the most tenacious cop I ever met,” he said. “Your mother has developed a reputation as a tenacious lawyer. And now you—a tenacious reporter.”

“I'm not really a reporter,” I said. “It's just a summer job, and I'm only working on this story because it's something I care about.”