Minus Tide (19 page)

He was surprised to find Gill’s Cafe open and a full parking lot, even more so by the barbeques sending out smoke signals. He’d sworn that he could smell the cooking meat coming from the highway, drifting off passing cars and trucks.

Chad thought he’d come upon 4
^th
of July in winter. Gill was giving away food to anyone who came by. He’d stuffed himself on cheeseburgers and beans simmered over a smoky fire. He was impressed by the Traitor’s community spirit. Since he was a boy he’d heard how their ways were blamed for seducing folks down darker paths, whatever that was supposed to mean. He’d never seen evidence of this himself, had always laughed it off as the dirty side of healthy town rivalries.

As far as Chad was concerned he was from both towns. His mother was from Traitor and his father had grown up in Buoy and it was said by many that his father had come and stolen her away from Traitor like a jewelry thief in the night. She was that beautiful. Many Traitor fisherman Chad’s father’s age still held a grudge.

A presumptuous old man who claimed to know Chad kept offering him beers and asking him about folks in Buoy and what kinds of trouble they were into now. And just when he’d started to feel hot in the face from the glances of others and the sense that he was going to be the butt of some elaborate joke, a highway repairman announced that the town was still effectively cut off from both sides. Chad and anyone else who’d come down from Buoy or further north might even be stranded for at least another day—unless the next storm being tracked to arrive in a few hours slowed down the road crews even more.

He couldn’t find Ann anywhere. He’d driven by her aunt’s house at least a dozen times hoping that he’d see her car. After breakfast he decided he’d better check on things and ended up spending time with her aunt. Kate was in a mild state of shock when she’d met him at the door. She’d spent the day checking to see if the phone worked, hadn’t heard or seen anyone and had no idea about the damage the storm had caused.

Chad had stayed several hours and tried to help calm her down. He made sure she had enough firewood and anything else she could think of before he left. He’d promised her that he’d keep looking for Ann. If he saw any law enforcement he’d let them know about her disappearance.

After leaving Kate, he’d gone back to the restaurant and had eaten a little and talked. There’d been a setback on the bridge work and fresh landslides on 101. He wondered if his brothers had even noticed he was gone yet. He was concerned about getting an update on how his father was doing.

He’d driven south of Traitor and spotted Ann’s car parked at the old boat ramp. He drove up close and let the headlights bathe it while he looked it over. There were no signs that anything bad had happened, just the fact that Ann was not around. It didn’t make any sense to him. Why would she have gone out in a boat now, when the river was swollen with driftwood and dangerous currents? Did she get into somebody else’s car? It didn’t seem like something she’d do. Unless someone forced her.

His nerves were shot with worry. It had been a long day and he wasn’t looking forward to spending another night in his car. He smoked half a joint and lay back in the seat, thought through the list of possibilities. Although he couldn’t prove anything, he kept circling back to the idea that she was still around somewhere not far away.

But where?

He closed his eyes and drifted off for maybe half an hour. When he heard someone walking across the graveled lot from behind he thought it was her and got out of the car.

“Ann?” He couldn’t see her. Then he saw an explosion of light.

Chapter 37

“Do you really have to point that thing at me?”

“Shut up, James.” The sheriff bit a cigarette with his teeth and walked it to the corner of his mouth. “You got a light?”

“If I talk are you going to shoot me?”

“I will if you don’t hand over your lighter.”

James pulled the lighter from his pants pocket and felt his fingertips ski over the .38. Thank god the stolen hoodie was two sizes larger and hung down to his hips. Was the sheriff forgetting protocol? This was worse somehow.

“Thanks.” The sheriff turned his head sideways so he could keep his good eye on James. He lit his cigarette. “I’ll be borrowing this for awhile.”

“Be my guest. I know what you are, man. I’ve always known what you’re all about.”

“And what’s that wise-blood? You learn something other than sucking dick down in old Mexico?”

“Enjoy your career Sheriff. Soon as those roads are clear the sooner your career ends.”

The muzzle came in fast, pushed up into his ear and exhaling cold nothing, like the spaces between stars. Had James misjudged him? Would his brains soon be dripping off the interior of the car? He wondered if the sheriff would find the money afterwards. James couldn’t think of a better car to die in.

The gun pulled away. James’ ear rang and he put his hand up to it to feel for blood but it came away clean. He was screwed. Being reckless had kept the sheriff from suspecting his was armed but it wouldn’t do any good to have a gun if it was hard to get to fast.
If he only arrests me, what will he do about the car? Maybe not a thing. It might be a long time before the dentist ever comes down. He could be in Hawaii playing with his balls.

“Do you want to tell me something now?” the sheriff asked.

James nodded. He dangled a cigarette out of the window and the sheriff lit it for him.

“You caught me Sheriff. I’ve done bad. But I was just going to take her for a ride is all. I would’ve even wiped her down good and clean before I put her away.”

The sheriff threw his smoke on the ground and crushed it out. What’s taking Cuke so fucking long, he wondered.

“I appreciate you trying to be honest with me, James. But it doesn’t suit you. Because you and I both know that you’re just another confused white boy badass wannabe.”

“Do you have to insult me?”

“Yeah. Because it makes me feel good dammit. And I won’t believe a word until I get Cuke to search you and the trunk.”

“Why didn’t you do it in the first place, instead of sending Cuke into the house?”

“I wanted to make sure you hadn’t done anything wrong in there. There’s nobody hurt in there or anything?

“Jesus, Sheriff. You know me better than that. You just said I didn’t have it in me. What’s taking Coach so long? He must be using the can or something. Or making himself a sandwich…”

The sheriff kept silent and lit another cigarette. The thought of food made him feel suddenly starved. How long had it been since he’d eaten? All he’d thought about was Cuke’s whiskey. He hadn’t even asked him for something to eat.

They should’ve just ignored him, not even stopped. Who cares if he steals the dentist’s car? Probably insured the hell out of the thing anyway.
If there’s nothing on him or in the trunk, you might as well not waste your time on the punk.

James tilted his head so he could see into the sheriff’s face. “You okay Dawkins?”

“I’d like to know what in the hell is taking Cuke so long. I should have told him that he was too old for this shit.”

“Well it was you who deputized him, wasn’t it?”

“No. I only asked if I could borrow his car. And a few guns.”

It would have been too easy to keep screwing with the Sheriff, but James decided to let it ride. At first he’d wanted to mix it up for old times, that if he was indeed going down he might as well have a good time on the way. But the feeling had passed and he’d lost the taste for it. He saw a shadow move next to the dentist’s house and soon a figure emerged into the moonlight.

Coach Cuke appeared much older than James remembered him. His hips had gone to hell, making it hard for him to walk very fast. He held a rifle James had seen him carrying during elk season.

“Cuke,” said the sheriff, turning. “What the hell happened?

“Nobody in there Sheriff. Doesn’t look like he stole nothing either except some candy bars and a drink. A few clothes maybe.”

The sheriff turned around and brought up the pistol. “Why did you need clothes? What’s wrong with your old ones, James?’

“I told you. I was down near the jetty and got hit by a sneaker wave. I was completely soaked and freezing to death.”

“Or maybe your old clothes got blood on them?”

“Give me a break dude. You think I enjoy wearing his clothes? They smell like booze, man. Booze and ass. Listen, I knew I was doing wrong, but I did it anyway. We’re all in kind of survivor mode right now, aren’t we? And when I saw this car I heard a voice inside that told me I needed to drive this car. It told me it would change my life.”

Cuke stepped up beside the sheriff. He seemed to be enjoying himself. He glanced at the sheriff’s cigarette and shook his head. The sheriff dropped it on the ground and crushed it out with his shoe.

“What do we do next, sheriff? I thought we were going after Russians, not punks like home slice over there.”

“I don’t know what to do. I see a whole lot of things I could nail him for. Breaking and entering, grand larceny. But what if he says he’ll never come back to my county ever again? What if I make him write it in his own blood?”

Cuke’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m only joking, Cuke. What do you say James? Let us have a quick look and we’ll be on our way?’

James palmed the .38 through the hoodie. He’d managed to shift it forward. Could he get it out fast? He’d smelled alcohol when the sheriff lit his smoke. All he had to do was watch for those drunken gazes at nothing and he’d have a few seconds or more to make a move.

“Did you hear me James?” Dawkins asked.

“Where do you want to start?”

“You can start by popping the trunk and keeping your hands on the dash where I can see them. Cuke, you go on and check it.”

They all heard it, the van’s engine angry with spit and sand, then a dark form roaring up the tree-lined road like a ghost.

It skidded to a stop and a light came on inside. Cuke and Dawkins backed up next to Cuke’s Mercury in a hurry. James watched the driver’s window move down. As the smoky glass dipped further, he saw that the side of the man’s face was raw and bleeding. It’s from the shrapnel, he thought. When Ann had shot at him, he’d been hit by pieces of exploded mussel shell.

The van’s headlights were off and any red lights that may have existed had been smashed. A clear sign of desperation. James recognized the sound of the engine. It had gone by the dentist’s house several times while he’d been inside.

The Russian got out of the van and walked up to the Skylark, let his eyes drift briefly over it. He raised the sawed-off and smiled.

“Your car?” he asked politely.

Chapter 38

The boat had broken free and drifted into a small cove that lay before the jetty, the last stop before crushing waves spat out whatever escaped to the open sea.

At low tide there was a crescent shaped beach where the sea lions sometimes came to sleep off a successful lunch. Black waves now lapped against a rocky slope. The beach was gone. When Ann was younger she would spend hours watching sea lions slog around on their bellies. Belching and barking, trading stories and frequently acting out slapstick scenes. Like the elk, they also had a presence about them that drew her in, although to entirely different places. She’d decided long ago that they must have given us their sense of humor.