Sea Glass Summer (45 page)

Oliver couldn't bring himself to say that he and Brian had just discovered the rest of the scrimshaws and put together what was going on. ‘Has this . . . this dealer sold them?'

‘He had several buyers – collectors – in mind, but there hadn't been time for viewings. That may not help Elizabeth.' Gerard pressed his hands to the sides of his face, forcing the skin upward. His voice quavered. ‘This afternoon a youngish man and an older woman came into his gallery, inquiring if a woman had brought in scrimshaws yesterday and left them with him. They described Elizabeth in detail. He told them any such transactions were a private matter between the client and himself. But naturally he was seriously alarmed.' Gerard was visibly trembling.

Of course. Evan and his Aunt Alice. It had to have been them, Oliver thought. He knew Evan would dislike having to take such action, but if he believed there was cause for suspicion he couldn't turn a blind eye to the historical society being robbed of Miss Emily's gift to them. And there was also the matter of getting him away from this house. Those had been the two goals – Evan's and Sarah's – not a desire to punish Elizabeth.

Gerard was talking again. ‘As soon the man and woman left, the dealer tried to get Elizabeth on the phone but she'd turned hers off and he wasn't able to get hold of her till later. I found her up in the bedroom, completely hysterical; she poured out the whole story. Turned out the scrimshaws weren't the start – she'd been selling off other items from the house at local antique shops and was sure Robin Polly knew about it.'

‘But that wouldn't be stealing! She can sell any of that stuff she likes. Everything here, except the scrimshaws, belongs to you and her.'

‘You don't know because your grandfather didn't tell you. He told me he wanted to wait until you were older, so you wouldn't feel burdened. Emily Cully arranged for my father to have a lifetime trust in the house and contents. At his death it passed to Max and me. When he died you got his share, or will, when you're eighteen.'

So that was why they had brought him here. They were afraid of the talk there'd have been under these particular circumstances if they hadn't. Also they wouldn't want him going against what they wanted to do in nine years' time. Now he understood the conversation between the two of them after picking him up from Grandpa's. Elizabeth had said something about nine years and then there'd been that bit that made it sound as though he'd turn out to be crazy. Crazy people don't get to look after their own money. And yet he didn't think either of them really hated him. They were backed to the wall and he was an annoyance. Indifference, yes. Hatred, no. They might even have liked him if things had been going better for them.

Gerard got up and stood huddled in front of the fireplace. ‘Burdened! That's grandfather's view of coming into money! To Elizabeth and me the burden is watching everything you have go out the window. We're down to the few last beans. Bad investments. I was a fool to think I knew what I was doing. And like any gambler the more I lost, the more I risked hoping to recover.'

‘I think you should look on the bright side.'

‘There isn't one.' His voice had weakened to a whine.

‘Yes, there is. If that man and lady hadn't come in asking questions, the dealer could have sold the scrimshaws to people who'd make a fuss about giving them back. But if he returns them to Elizabeth and she hands them over to the historical society, I can't see a problem.'

‘You're nine years old – what do you know about how these things work?' Gerard came to a standstill. He didn't sound angry, just terribly tired. ‘This dealer could contact the police. She'd be arrested!'

‘I bet he doesn't. Anyway, she could always say she hadn't realized she couldn't sell, didn't know – or had forgotten – that part of the will. Buck up, Gerard! It'll be OK.' Oliver paused. ‘No hard feelings, but I don't want to stay here, and I'm sure you and Elizabeth don't want me with you either. I want to go and live with Sarah and Evan, with Twyla close by. That's how we all hoped it could be. And I'd like to leave as soon as Brian's dad or mom can drive over to pick us up.'

‘I understand, Oliver.' What he sounded was self-pitying. ‘Perhaps if I hadn't started drinking heavily a lot of things could be different. I failed Max and I've failed you, I don't expect you to believe it but when we said we insisted on taking guardianship of you it wasn't because it would have raised talk around here. We were desperate to cut expenses and it's now clear that Elizabeth saw a chance to recoup, but I did hope you and I could grow fond of each other.' Gerard stared into space. ‘Being who am, I'm likely to shake off regrets soon enough. In that way I'm like my father. He could only ever think of himself.' A heaved sigh. ‘How about a farewell handshake?'

This accomplished, Gerard sank back in the chair. Leaving the room, Oliver felt a surge of sympathy for Elizabeth. If she were really bad she'd have murdered Gerard. Maybe that's what she'd been wishing she could do when accusing Oliver of killing Feathers. Somehow this thought blotted out the incident sufficiently that he didn't think he'd be troubled by the memory.

He found his two suitcases at the bottom of the stairs and Brian, looking sleepy, sitting on top of his backpack. ‘I came upstairs to get them when I heard you tell him you're leaving. I've phoned Dad and he should be here,' he looked at his watch, ‘in about twenty minutes. He thought you might like him to leave you at Aunt Nellie's until Sarah gets home.'

‘Thanks. What time is it?'

‘Five forty.' Brian gave way to a yawn as he stood up. ‘I'll take everything outside and wait on the steps, till you've said goodbye to Nat.'

‘I don't think he'll be there.'

‘Bet you he will.'

Brian was wrong this time; the window seat was empty, and there wasn't a figure standing at the foot of the bed. Oliver was OK with this; he wouldn't have wanted to leave Nat alone in this room or a house that had been allowed to die from the inside out.

‘I'll always remember you, friend,' he said, ‘and all your kindness and help. I'm glad your scrimshaws will go to the historical society. The people in this town still love you, like you're living just around the corner. Yes, I'll miss you, but I'm glad you've gone back home. Please say “hi” to Grandpa and Sonny when they get there.' The curtains stirred. A beam of sunlight streamed through the window to dance its way to Oliver's feet. Significant, because though it was no longer raining the sky remained gray and thunderous. ‘Bye, Nat.'

He went downstairs and without looking back opened the front door, closed it softly behind him and joined Brian on the steps in the damp chill. A few minutes later Reggie Armitage pulled up in his pickup truck and within seconds of climbing inside Brian was fast asleep. His Dad wasn't one for questions or probing. He told Oliver that Aunt Nellie was up and expecting him, and if he wanted to get into bed she'd stay on the watch for Sarah's return.

As they turned onto Wild Rose Way, Sarah was opening her door from the inside. Reggie drew to a stop and told Oliver to forget his suitcases; he'd bring them into the house.

‘Sure that's OK?'

‘Get moving.' Oliver didn't need to be told twice. He raced into Sarah's open arms.

‘I was just about to leave to come and get you when I saw the truck and recognized it.' She drew him closer and stroked his hair. ‘Evan phoned after he talked to you and filled me in on what you were going through.'

Reggie, having put Oliver's suitcases in the foyer, said he'd be around providing another pair of eyes and feet and left. Oliver stepped back to look up at Sarah; he knew something was wrong. ‘What's happened? Is it Grandpa?' He knew as soon as he asked that couldn't be it. What was Reggie talking about? And Twyla would have come for him whatever the hour of night if something happened to Grandpa.

She took Oliver's hand and walked him to the living room sofa. Sitting down beside him she put an arm around his shoulders. ‘I'm so sorry to break this to you, sweetheart. It's about Gwen and Sonny, but it may turn out all right. We'll have to keep praying. It's waiting that's going to be so hard. I'll try to tell you as quickly as possible. About ten o'clock last night Gwen started having terrible pains in her upper abdomen, so severe that Twyla called an ambulance and the medics got her into it on a stretcher. The sound of the sirens must have frightened Sonny; perhaps he thought it was the police come to take him away. Twyla didn't lose sight of him during all the coming and going. But after the house was clear she went to phone Sid Jennson to ask if he could come over to stay with Sonny while she went to the hospital – she thought the stress of taking him with her would be too much. It must have been while she was talking to Sid that Sonny slipped out of the house. She went looking for him as soon as she hung up and searched the house, but he was gone. When she couldn't see him outside she got in the car and drove around for five to ten minutes. No sign of him.'

‘Oh, Sarah!' Oliver was too stunned to cry.

‘She was phoning the police when Sid arrived. He told her he'd wait for them and that she should go to the hospital to be with Gwen. At first they thought she was having a heart attack, and he said there was nothing at the moment Twyla could do about Sonny that he couldn't handle. She gave him my cell number. She knew I'd want to know immediately and I then called Evan. He got here a couple of hours after I did, and he's now helping search the woods that start at the top of Ridge Farm Rise. It's a large area, but the organizers know the terrain, and they're splitting people into small groups. Reggie Armitage is headed there now and of course Sid signed on. The problem last night was the storm. But they're confident they'll find him.'

‘What about the roads?'

‘The police are out. Twyla left a photo of Sonny for them. Oh, Oliver! All this on top of your last couple of days at that house! I should never have gone to Portland.'

‘Of course you should. And that's all over, mostly because you tipped Evan off about the scrimshaws, and he and his aunt found where Elizabeth had taken them. Maybe the shock of being found out will end up being a good thing for her, help her think things through more clearly.' Sarah could tell from his face that there had been a climax of events at the Cully Mansion. ‘Just like opening up about the plane crash may help Gerard, but I'll tell you about that too later. When I told Gerard I was leaving he said he understood and that he wouldn't make me come back. It's great, but even if it hadn't turned out this way, all that would matter is Gwen and Sonny. How is she doing?'

‘They no longer think it's a heart attack. They're doing other tests and monitoring her carefully.'

‘She doesn't know about Sonny?'

‘Far too risky to tell her. Twyla says they're keeping her sedated, so she's sleeping a lot of the time.'

‘But could she still die?'

‘I don't know, Oliver. That will depend on what they find, I suppose.'

‘Is there anyone who ought to be contacted?'

‘Twyla phoned Rowena, Gwen's sister in France. Gwen was telling me just the other day that she's sad they are no longer close and afterwards she told Twyla she was going to write a letter; she was actually sitting at the secretary desk in the book room and had finished a couple of paragraphs when she began to feel ill. Twyla took Gwen's address book with her to the hospital last night and rang me just before you got here to give me Rowena's number in France. I rang and a man answered – fortunately he spoke English. He said he was a good friend, very sorry to get the news, but Rowena was resting after having fallen that morning and breaking her wrist, so he must hold off giving her the message.'

‘Sarah! That's awful.' Oliver clung to her hand. ‘What can we do to help?'

‘Keep our strength up for when we're needed. You don't look like you've had much sleep. Could you try and lie down for a couple of hours? I'll wake you if there's any word. I'll come up and tuck you in. Libby Jennson's coming over shortly and we're going to make up sandwiches for the volunteers. There's bound to be a need until Sonny is found, so you can help with that later while I go and see Twyla at the hospital.'

They followed this plan. Oliver didn't think he could fall asleep, especially because rain was now clattering against the window to the accompaniment of booms of thunder. But he did so until noon, when he opened his eyes and sprang off the bed to race downstairs. He heard voices coming from the kitchen, Sarah's and Evan's. Something must have happened for Evan to leave the search party. And that it wasn't anything good showed on both their faces when he stood in the doorway.

‘Bad news?'

Suddenly each of them was holding one of his hands. ‘Sonny,' said Evan gently. Oliver noticed vaguely that he hadn't shaved and his jacket was soaked through; the unimportant little things you notice when your mind is backing up from what you don't want to hear. ‘He was hit by a car as he came out from a thick growth of trees straight into its path. Unavoidable on the driver's part.'

‘Is he dead?'

Sarah nodded, tears sliding in what seemed to Oliver to be slow motion down her face.

‘On impact. Thank God it was that quick.' Evan now had his strong arms around both of them. ‘And we just had an update on Elizabeth. Her car was behind the one that hit Sonny. It was she who dialed nine-one-one. Afterwards she sat beside Sonny on the ground, holding his hand until help arrived.'

‘Gwen?'

‘That's the good news. Heart attack completely ruled out. It was her gall bladder. Seemingly the symptoms can mimic each other. They think it was probably brought on by eating fried chicken for dinner. Twyla says fatty foods can bring on an attack. It'll mean an operation, a small one these days. Usually people go home within hours. Given her age they'll keep her in, but she should be all right.'