The Cove (17 page)

“Wally … Wally Brown?” Tom covered his mouth with the flat of his hand and rubbed his cheek as though it had been bee-stung. All the while, Lincoln sat there and stared at him with a cold, unblinking look.

“Your father-in-law is a known associate of Richard Sullivan, otherwise known as ‘The Crowbar.’ Sullivan’s a member of an organized crime family based in Providence.”

“I don’t know anything about that, but — yeah … Sure. I know Sullivan. He owns a bar down to Boothbay.”

“Among other business interests,” Lincoln said tonelessly.

Tom glanced at Harlan, who was leaning back in his chair and staring out the window as though he wasn’t even a part of this conversation.

“I’m not so sure I’d want to be checking into what Richie Sullivan’s doing,” Tom said with a nervous laugh. “I — uh, I’d rather not end up going overboard with a cement block tied ’round my ankles.”

“I’m not interested in you going after Richie Sullivan,” Lincoln said. “The way I’m going to get to him is by breaking the system he and his criminal associates have going. Get one of the little guys in the ring and squeeze him until he gives up whoever’s above him.”

Tom leaned back and released the tension gathering in his shoulders.

“So that’s my proposition to you,” Lincoln continued. “Can I count on your help?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm than that,” Lincoln said, and Harlan shifted his eyes and looked at him.

“Absolutely. You can count on me.”

“You can take some time to mull it over, if you’d like. Once things go to trial, you know, you might end up having to testify against people you’ve known all your life.”

The sensible response, Tom knew, would be to agree to take some time before he decided. He knew it wouldn’t look good if he jumped at this proposition too fast, not without at least appearing to give it due consideration. They certainly wouldn’t expect him to decide right here on the spot, but Tom found himself smiling.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

Lincoln and Harlan exchanged glances that, once again, gave Tom a spike of suspicion that this might not be what it appeared, but he realized he was in too deep to back out now.

Tom glanced at the wall clock and said, “I — ah, I have to get out on my patrol.”

He stood up and, again, shook hands with Lincoln. The man’s tight grip made his fingers tingle.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Lincoln said, his voice flat, his face nearly expressionless.

He turned to leave. Tom sensed both men’s eyes boring into the back of his head as he opened the door and walked out of the office. As he closed the door behind him, he wished he could hear what the two men said next.

He made his way down the hallway, realizing he’d been holding his breath, so he let it out in a slow whistle. It felt like he had been holding it for the entire duration of the interview. Tiny white spots of light zigzagged across his vision. If Harlan had any idea he’d stolen those drugs, they would have busted him right there and then.

No way they’d let him walk.

He was sure of that.

So if he played his cards right, he stood a chance of looking a whole lot better in the department and still getting the money he needed — finally — to get the hell away from this goddamned town and his fucking wife and her family.

If he hurt his wife’s family in the process, and
Capt’n
Wally did some time in jail …Who the fuck cared?

Slashers

T
he sun was a soft, ruby-red ball near the horizon. Long shadows of pine trees and scrub brush stretched across the rocks and darkening sand that glistened like spilled oil. A crow sat in a dead tree nearby, cawing its ragged call. In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Ben and Julia cuddled on the sand, resting in each other’s arms. Finally, Julia shivered.

“We ought to get going,” she said, holding herself close against Ben. He ran his fingertips along the length of her arm as though reading the sprinkling of goose bumps and sand like they were Braille.

Moving languorously, they got up, brushed themselves off, and got dressed. The wind was blowing strong off the water now, chilling them and drying the sweat on their skin, but both of them were smiling, filled with contentment.

For Ben’s part, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so close, so damned
good
being with a woman. When a memory of Kathy Brackett crept into his mind, he pushed it aside. Any feelings he might still have for Kathy had been whisked away this afternoon by the sun and the sand, by the breeze off the ocean and the gentle touch of Julia’s hands all over his body.

Before today, he had been convinced that the jagged pieces of his life would never fit together perfectly smoothly, but then again — whose did?

He had wondered hundreds if not thousands of times if he would ever feel genuine love again. Sexual attraction? Sure. But he had been convinced that any real connection with a woman was gone from his life for good. He’d been sure that some part of him — the part that would allow him to give himself unconditionally to a woman — had been dead. That had been the first casualty of seeing — and participating in — the depraved things human beings can do to each other in war.

After what just happened with Julia, he wanted desperately to believe some of the things he was feeling were real.

For Julia’s part, she felt an amazing sense of satisfaction and triumph mixed with inexpressible joy. For weeks … for months, now, she had been hearing talk around town about Ben Brown coming home from Iraq almost as if he were some sort of mythical being, not a flesh-and-blood human. Although none of the townsfolk had ever spoken about him directly to her — she was, after all, an outsider — she had overheard enough so, even for her, Ben Brown had become something special … so special, in fact, that she wondered if
anyone
could live up to such high expectations.

But now on the beach, he had … and then some.

He had proven to be a sensitive and skilled lover who had done things to her —
with
her — that had amazing intensity. Maybe it was being outdoors instead of in one of their bedrooms … Maybe a wild, savage spirit had energized their lovemaking … Maybe she had been so pent up, so frustrated by Tom Marshall’s inadequate lovemaking … Maybe it was the element of danger, of being seen making love on the beach …

Whatever it was,
something
gave their lovemaking an extra edge that had been beyond anything she had ever experienced.

Or maybe … just maybe … Ben Brown really had lived up to the unrealistic expectations she had built up.

To her amazement, she had experienced a powerful connection with him.

After the disappointment of her first marriage, she had convinced herself that she was immune to love. Love was nothing but a foolish, immature infatuation. There was no way it could be some deep and lasting connection she had grown up thinking it might be.

Now … she wasn’t so sure.

But what she did know was, she wasn’t lonely anymore.

Neither one of them said much as they walked, hand in hand, up the winding dirt path to the top of the hill that overlooked the tiny cove. Julia leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling and breathing in the musky scent of sweat in his armpit. The wind cooled their skin and blew Julia’s long, dark hair back over one shoulder like a fanned cape. Ben stopped and, brushing her hair back, leaned down and kissed the nape of her neck. His tongue lapped her salty flesh like he was a kitten, drinking fresh cream. He inhaled sharply, taking in the lingering scent of her perfume and her warm, salty flesh.

“Do you think anyone saw us?” Julia asked. She giggled, but her voice was edged with worry.

The thought had never crossed Ben’s mind, but the suggestion gave him a jolt. If someone from town — anyone — had seen what was going on down there on the beach, word would spread through town fast. He’d definitely get teased about it tonight at The Local if he showed up.

Then again, someone already knew he was interested in Julia. That’s why he’d been threatened the other night.

“If they did …” ” Ben smiled, remembering some of the things that had done to each other. “I guess we gave them quite a show.”

“Tongues will wag,” Julia said with a light laugh.

They stood for a long time, kissing and clinging to each other, their hands touching … rubbing … feeling … caressing … exploring soft and firm curves beneath clothes. Ben felt himself stirring again and was more than ready to drop down to the ground right there and go at it, but Julia broke off the embrace. Panting heavily, a mischievous gleam lighting her eyes, she said, “Don’t get started now, lover boy. Save it for later.”

Ben smiled and shook his head, thinking:
Good … There’s gonna be a “later.”

“
Oww
, the things you do to me, woman.”

They turned and, hand and hand, started along the path back to where they had left Ben’s car.

“What’s the name of this place — the beach, I mean?” Julia asked.

“Sand Beach.”

“How original.”

“Quaint, even,” Ben said.

“Do many people know about it?”

“Just us locals. It’s one of those places we don’t like the summer people knowing about.”

“What, you think they’d ruin it?” Julia glanced back down the trail, a wistful look flickering in her dark eyes.

“You haven’t lived here long enough to see what’s happened to this town. Hell, even in the short time I’ve been away, I can’t believe how much it’s changed.”

“A lot can happen in four years.”

“Yeah, but if tourists knew about this place, then where would we go to make love?”

Julia laughed.

“I’m sure we’d come up with something,” she said, and then she leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. Ben grabbed her and hugged her close, making the kiss more passionate as he pressed his hips against her until she began to breathe hard.

“It’s
our
place now,” Julia said once the kiss was over, and she was snuggling against him, reveling in his body heat. “Do you know who owns the land?”

Ben considered for a moment.

“I’m not really sure, now that you mention it. It might belong to one of the Nelsons.”

“So what do you say we buy it and build a house out here?”

Ben knew from her reaction that she immediately regretted saying something so sappy, but he actually found it endearing.

“Couldn’t afford the taxes,” he said, and then they continued to walk, their fingers laced together like ivy. Through a break in the woods, Ben caught a glimpse of the roof of his car, parked at the end of the dead end dirt road. At first, he didn’t register the meaning of the faint cloud of dust being whisked slowly away by the breeze, but then they broke out of the woods, and he saw that his car was sagging heavily to one side as if the driver’s side wheels were stuck in a rut.

“Goddamned son of a
bitch!
”

“What is it?” Julia asked, but he didn’t answer. He started running toward his car, all the while staring in amazement at the tires on the driver’s side, front and back. Both of them were flat. The hubcaps were almost touching the dirt road.

“Whoever did this just did it.”

Ben looked down the road. Seething with anger, he watched the swirling dust settle to the ground and drift into the woods like a cloud of yellow smoke. It was the last trace of the culprit’s escape, but there was still a sense of a nearby presence.

“Fucking
son
of a
bitch!
”

He kicked the dirt, and a spray of gravel and dirt peppered the side of the car like a scattering of buckshot.

“Is it safe to assume you don’t have two spare tires in the trunk?” Julia said, trying to sound reasonable to counterbalance Ben’s anger.

“They must have heard us coming and taken off.” He looked back the way they had come and then at the road again. “I bet they would have done all four tires if they’d had time.”

“You keep saying ‘they.’ Do you know it was more than one person?”

“No!” Ben shouted.

He turned to her, his eyes flashing like summer lightning. He tried to suppress his rage, but he clenched his fist and pounded the top of his car. The impact sounded like he’d hit the bottom of an empty oil barrel and was hard enough to dent the metal.

“Don’t do that,” Julia said, her voice wavering. “They’ve done enough damage as it is.” It took effort to keep her voice calm. She knew she had to maintain calm here, but she was starting to panic because she was suddenly convinced this message was directed at her as much as Ben. After the conversation she’d had last night with Tom, she had a pretty good idea that he might have done this, but she didn’t want to believe that he — a town cop — was capable of such a thing.

“Why the
hell
didn’t we
hear
them?” Ben sputtered as he massaged his wrist. He started pacing back and forth beside the car, staring down the road as if he could somehow will the culprits back into view.

“I
dunno
. Maybe it was some punks, you know?” Julia said. She hung back, unnerved by the intensity of Ben’s outburst and afraid he might turn it on her. “Maybe the … the trees blocked the sound. The wind was maybe blowing in the wrong direction or something.”

“What if …” Ben swallowed hard, trying hard to control his anger. His hands were aching, the knuckles of his hand standing out as he clenched his fists, squeezing them like he was strangling a live snake. The muscles in his forearms swelled like pressurized hoses. “Damn … What if one of them was watching us the whole time?”

“You mean standing guard?”

Ben nodded, and Julia’s eyes widened as she hugged herself and looked back down the trail, still feeling as though the threat hadn’t gone away. The skin on the back of her neck crawled with the sensation that — even now — unseen eyes were watching her from the margins of the woods. She moved closer to Ben and slid her arm around his waist, hugging him protectively. When he put his arm around her shoulder, the tension inside him vibrated like electricity in a high voltage wire, but she felt reassured as he held her tightly.

“I’ll call for a tow truck to come out and help us.”

“Damn,” Julia said as she glanced at her wristwatch. “This really screws things up. My dad’s expecting me back by now. It’s suppertime.”

“Fuck! … Fuck! …
Fuck!
” Ben kicked a divot into the dirt. “If only we’d come back thirty seconds sooner!”

“Getting angry won’t solve the problem.”

Ben looked at her, his expression as hard as a stone carving.

A thought suddenly hit her, and she rushed over to the car and looked inside. Relief washed over her when she saw her purse undisturbed where she had left it on the floor on the passenger’s side.

At least she hadn’t been robbed.

Ben fished the car keys from his pocket, unlocked the door on the passenger’s side, and took his cell phone from the seat. He dialed his home number, not really expecting anyone to answer, and was surprised when Louise picked up.

“Hey, Lou-Lou Belle” he said with forced cheerfulness.

“Hey yourself. Where are you?”

“Out.”

“Well, Pops was looking for you earlier.”

“Really?”

“He wanted you to help him haul today.”

Ben glanced at Julia and shot her a smile. He almost blew her a kiss but stopped himself before he did anything that “quaint.”

“
Why’re
you at the house?”

Louise hesitated for a moment, then said, “I stopped by to see if Pops was home.”

That didn’t ring at all true. Ben knew she was probably trying to get away from Tom again, but he decided to let it pass … let her be the one to mention it.

“Look —
ahh
, do you have the phone book handy?”

“Hold on a sec.” After a short pause followed by the sound of things being shuffled around, Louise said, “Yeah. Got it right here.”

“Can you look up the number for Skip’s Garage and call him for me?”

“What’s the problem?”

“Flat tire. I want him to pick up my car.”

“What, you can’t change a flat?”

“Give me the number. I’ll call him,” Ben said. He didn’t for a moment consider telling her the truth. Word would get out eventually about him and Julia, but there was no sense starting it.