The Bone House (55 page)

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Authors: Brian Freeman

BOOK: The Bone House
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    'I
read your report. I guess you found what you were looking for. With the key. At
the bottom of that hole.'

    'Yeah,
you're right. I did.' He added, 'It's scary what people keep hidden under the
ground.'

    'It
is.'

    He
heard the unspoken questions in her voice.
What about you, Cab? What are you
hiding?

    'So
where do you go next?' Lala went on, with a casualness that sounded false. 'Do
I win the bet?'

    'What
bet?' he asked, but he knew what she meant.

    'The
pool, remember? I figured this was the week that Catch-a-Cab Bolton would head
for the horizon. I have a lot of money riding on you.'

    'How
much?'

    'Ten
whole bucks.'

    'You
must have been pretty confident.'

    'No,
I was pretty cynical. I'm actually starting to feel bad about that.'

    'Don't.'

    'It
sounds like Door County needs a new sheriff,' Lala reminded him. 'Do you want
the job?'

    Cab
laughed. 'This place is too cold for me. What's it like down there?'

    'What
else? Hot. Humid.'

    'That
actually sounds nice,' Cab admitted. 'I'll be back home tonight. I guess I owe
you ten bucks.'

    'Keep
it,' Lala said. 'You've got a surprise waiting for you down here.'

    'What
is it?'

    'I
got out of your shower this morning, and guess who was waiting for me in the
living room of your condo? Your mother.'

    'My mother's
in Florida?'

    'Tarla
Bolton in the flesh. Actually, I was the one in the flesh. We were both pretty
damn surprised to see each other.'

    Cab
laughed again. It felt good. 'What did she say?'

    'She
said her son has good taste.'

    'Well,
that's true.'

    'She
also brought enough luggage to completely fill your second bedroom.'

    'She's
staying
?'

    'Looks
that way. She said something about the mountain coming to Mohammed.'

    'I
guess I better hurry,' Cab said.

    'I
guess. I'll get my stuff out of your bedroom and rinse off your toothbrush.'

    'You're
funny. You know, there's no rush, Lala. Is your air conditioning fixed?'

    'No.'

    'So
stick around a few days. Take a vacation. I need one too. Besides, my mother is
more than any one person can take alone.'

    'I'll
think about that,' she said.

    'Hey,
do me a favor, OK?' he asked.

    'What?'

    'Take
some cash from my nightstand and go get a very, very expensive bottle of red
wine. Tonight, you, me, and my mother are going to drink it on the beach.'

    'How
often does a girl get a romantic offer like that?' Lala said.

    'I'd
like to tell you both a story.'

    'What
kind of story?'

    'It's
about a girl named Vivian,' Cab said.

    There
was a long silence from Lala on the line. 'I'll buy the wine.'

    'Thanks.'

    'Travel
safe, Cab.'

    'Bye,
Lala.'

    He
hung up the phone and felt an odd heaviness in his heart.

    It
occurred to Cab that he had never known what homesickness was before, not about
people, not about places. He felt restless as the boat nestled against the dock
in Northport. He jogged down the steps to the lower deck, climbed into his car,
and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel until the deck attendant waved
him off the ferry. He was first in line. His Corvette growled with impatience.

    As he
drove with a thump on to solid land, he saw a long line of cars in the return
line, waiting to head back across the blue waters under the blue skies toward
Washington Island. That was how it always was here - people coming and going,
heading in opposite directions. The lead car bound for the island, bound for
home, belonged to Hilary Bradley. He recognized her, and she recognized him.
She waved at him as if he was a friend.

    Cab
pulled off to the side of the pier, letting the other cars form a convoy away
from the ferry. When there was a gap in the traffic, he ran on his stork-like
legs to the car parked in front of the on-ramp to the boat.

    Hilary
rolled down the window and leaned out. The warm wind mussed her blond hair.
'Hello, Detective.'

    'Mrs
Bradley. How are you?'

    'Better,'
she said. 'Much better. So's Amy Leigh.'

    'That's
good.'

    'The
police in Green Bay treated us well.'

    'My lieutenant
and I made some calls to make sure they did.'

    She
took off her sunglasses and smiled at him. He could see cuts and bruises
lingering on her face, but she still managed to look pretty. Her mood matched
the lightness of the weather.

    'Are
you heading back to Florida?' she asked.

    'I
am.'

    'I'm
glad I had a chance to see you before you left. To say thank you for what you
did. For going over to the island that night. Without you, I probably would
have lost Mark.'

    'I
should be thanking you,' Cab told her. 'I feel guilty that it took a
schoolteacher and a college girl to expose what really happened on that beach
in Naples. I would have felt even worse if either of you had been seriously
hurt.'

    'That
wasn't your fault.'

    'You
probably also owe me an "I told you so" for wrongly suspecting your
husband. I'm sorry. I made a mistake.'

    'You
don't know him like I do,' Hilary said.

    'Well,
I told you before that I hoped you were right - and you were.'

    'I've
been wrong many times, but not about Mark. Trusting someone doesn't necessarily
make you a fool, Detective.'

    'I'll
try to remember that,' Cab said.

    He
heard a whistle and saw that the belly of the ferry was empty. One journey was
done; the next was in waiting. Hilary Bradley turned on the engine of her car,
and he could see in her face the same impatience he felt. To finish the ride.
To be home where you belonged with the ones you loved. He envied her for having
things in her life he was just beginning to find.

    'I
have to go,' she said, extending a hand through the window. He shook it. Her
grip was firm, but her skin was soft.

    'Good
luck in all things, Mrs Bradley.'

    'Thank
you, Detective. The same to you.'

    She
drove on to the ferry, and Cab returned to the Corvette. He gunned it and
headed south without a backward look at the water and the island. He had a long
drive ahead through the small towns of Door County, but it was a perfect day to
travel back to reality. He could drive as fast or as slow as he liked on the
empty roads. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if there was no one
chasing him.

    Even
so, he had somewhere to go, and he was anxious to get there.

    

    

    Hilary
broke through the trees on to Schoolhouse Beach behind their house. Mark was
waiting for her. So was Tresa, sitting on a bench beside him, her red hair tied
in a ponytail. Sunshine spilled across the expanse of the horseshoe bay and
left it flecked with gold. The season was still too early for tourists, and
they had the rocky stretch of shoreline all to themselves.

    When
the two of them saw her at the crest of the slope, Tresa ran. Mark lingered on
the bench by himself, letting the girl go first. Tresa greeted Hilary with a
huge smile and threw her arms around her in a hug that seemed impossibly strong
for her skinny arms.

    'I'm
so glad you're safe,' Tresa whispered.

    'Me,
too.'

    'Mark
told me you were coming home today. I really wanted to stay and see you.'

    'I'm
glad you did.'

    Tresa
leaned in, hugging her as fiercely as before. When she let go, she ducked her
head into her neck. 'I'm so sorry about Jen. I mean Katie. I should have done
something. I should have told someone about the fire.'

    'You were
a kid back then, Tresa,' Hilary said.

    'I
still feel like a kid.'

    'You're
not.'

    'Mark
thinks I am.'

    Hilary
didn't answer, and Tresa bit her lip and shoved her thumbs in the pockets of
her jeans. 'Well, I'll leave you guys alone.'

    The
teenager brushed past her, but Hilary stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
'Tresa, wait. There's something else.'

    'What
is it?'

    'You
did a brave thing by coming here that night like you did. You risked your own
life. Thank you.'

    'I
couldn't let anything happen to Mark,' she said.

    'I
know that, and I'm grateful,' Hilary went on, 'but I also have to tell you
something. Woman to woman.'

    Tresa
hesitated. 'OK.'

    'You
can't spend any more time alone with my husband,' Hilary said.

    Tresa's
eyes widened. 'What?' I mean, yeah, I - I understand. I'm sorry. He told you
what happened, huh?'

    'Of
course he did.'

    'I'm
really sorry.'

    'Girl
crushes don't bother me, Tresa, but you're not a girl anymore.'

    She
nodded. 'Sure. You're right.'

    'It
doesn't mean we never want to see you again.'

    'No,
I get it.' Tresa took a long look over her shoulder at Mark. 'Thanks,' she told
Hilary.

    'For
what?'

    'For
saying I could actually be a threat. That's cool.'

    Hilary
smiled. 'Take care of yourself, Tresa.'

    'You
too. You're lucky, you know?'

    'I
know.'

    She
watched Tresa disappear into the trees, and then she turned with a strange
sense of anxiety and relief toward Mark, trying not to run. He climbed off the
bench as she drew near. Their faces told the story. They didn't need to speak.
His arms enfolded her, and she grabbed him hard, and they kissed with an
outpouring of love and longing that left her fighting back tears. It was as if
everything in her life had come within a breath of slipping away, and then,
suddenly, miraculously, she had it all back in her grasp. They stood there in
silence for long minutes, clinging to each other, still somehow afraid that
they would be torn apart. When they finally let go, they walked back to the
bench hand in hand and sat, still not speaking, listening to the steady beat of
the water on the rocks.

    'I
thought I'd never—' Mark began, but she stopped him firmly with a hand over his
lips.

    'Don't.
Don't say it.'

    He
nodded and let it go. She didn't want to talk about fears or nightmares. She
didn't want to talk about what might have happened or how close they'd both
come to the edge of the precipice. The only thing that mattered to her was that
they were still here and still together.

    'I
got a call from the principal at the high school,' Hilary told him. 'Oh?'

    'It
sounds like the last few days have made a lot of people rethink what happened
last year. Or maybe they got nervous and called their lawyers. I think they're going
to offer you your teaching job back.'

    Mark's
head bobbed in surprise. 'Seriously?'

    'Looks
that way. Do you want it?'

    'After
everything that's happened?' He hesitated, and she assumed he was about to say no.
Not ever. Not again. He surprised her.

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