Emile and his lobster men buddies had hauled off most of the rubble that had once been his cottage. They were still arguing over drawings for a new one. They all had their own ideas about propane heat versus fuel oil, natural light, windows, keeping it simple or "yuppifying" it.
Emile was tireless. Henry Armi- stead hadn't succeeded in destroying him.
The police had conducted a thorough analysis of the engine parts Sam Cassain had brought up from the remains of the Encounter. They had uncompromising proof of sabotage. Sam Cassain had been wrong about Emile.
But instead of exonerating the oceanographer immediately and publicly, and turning the investigation over to the authorities, Sam had slipped behind the scenes and tried to make a profit.
He'd fingered Henry Armistead early on. It was Sam who'd let Henry aboard the Encounter shortly before it set out to sea that final day.
Abigail Granger had known. She hadn't realized its significance, she'd explained from her hospital bed, until it was too late. When she'd finally confronted Henry, he'd tried to kill her. He loved her, wanted the status she could give him, but he'd been desperate, knew the walls were closing in on him.
Emile joined Riley down on the water. She smiled at him. He was sweating, in his element as he worked on his new cottage.
"I think it needs more windows," she told him. "You going to pay for them?"
"Only if I can visit whenever I want."
His dark eyes gleamed.
"You'll do that anyway."
"I'll miss the old place," she said.
"I won't. It had mice and snakes."
"Not that many." She squinted out at the water, felt the chilly breeze on her face.
"You won't change your mind and come back to the center?"
He shook his head.
"No. This is my life now. It's a good one. I have friends here."
"Lobstermen. They're lucky Lou Don-man didn't lock them all up."
"Lou's a good man," he said.
"How did you know, Emile?" She turned to him, felt that pang she always did these days when she realized how close she'd come to really losing him.
"That it was Henry, that he was as desperate as he was?"
"I didn't know he was that desperate or I wouldn't have ended up trussed up like a Christmas turkey. That it was Henry... I talked to your mother. Her last visit with Sam--he always wanted to put his best foot forward with her, even if he knew they could never be together again. He told her he was trying to put the Encounter right. She didn't think it meant much of anything at the time."
"It meant he knew what he'd found aboard the Encounter would exonerate you."
"If he hadn't tried to blackmail Henry, if he'd just gone to the police, to me, even to Matt... Sam underestimated Henry, and it cost him his life." Emile shook his head sadly.
"Sam's was a life of missed opportunities."
"Do you think Henry meant to kill him?"
"He let him die. That much we know from the police examination of the boat Abigail let Henry use while he was staying with her and Caroline on Mount Desert Island. That's where Sam confronted him. I don't think it was an accident. I think Henry hit Sam over the head, pushed him into the water and let him drown."
"Then he thought better of letting the police find him off Mount Desert Island and pulled him out."
"And dumped him on Labreque Island," Emili said grimly.
"He probably cut his engines, slipped ir under the cover of dark. Henry was bold in man; ways, cowardly in others. "
"If Straker had caught him" -- "It does no good to go back and imagine wha might have happened. It's enough to deal with wha did happen."
"Henry chose Labreque Island because he'd al ready formulated a plan to blame the Encounter or you."
Emile nodded, accepting this information philosophically.
"His one problem--he couldn't fine Sam's proof. He checked his house in Arlington burned that down. Checked my house, burned i down--which also suited his plans to frame me."
Riley sighed, continued to stare out at the water "But Sam had tucked the engine on Mount Desert Even Matt didn't know where it was. That's wha brought him out here the weekend Sam died--he wa; looking for Sam's evidence. " She could feel he grandfather's sudden melancholy. She turned to him and smiled.
"Thank God it's over."
Emile's dark, intense gaze zeroed in on her, didn' let up. "Riley, if you want a kayak, I can find yoi one. Yours burned up in the fire.
You can paddle ou to the island"-She shook her head.
"I'm not rattling that particular cage."
Straker was there, had been for ten days. He'd set tied affairs with the Boston police, the Massachusett!
State Police, the Maine State Police and Sheriff Dorr- man, and, after making love to Riley a final, bone- melting time, had retreated to his deserted island. He didn't say why. He didn't ask her to wait or to understand. He just said he'd be in touch, and went.
"He can't stay out there through the winter," Emile said.
"I wouldn't put anything past him."
A car drove all the way up to the dock, and Riley, surprised, recognized her sister's BMW. Sig popped out, looking even more pregnant. But the pale, serious look was gone, her free-spiritedness back. She waved, smiling. Matt climbed out from behind the wheel. He had a small cast on his forearm, his bruises had faded somewhat, but he'd lost weight.
"They're both wounded," Emile said.
"They need some time away together."
"They can afford to go anywhere they want."
"" Anywhere' isn't here. "
They got packs from the trunk. Riley gave Emile a questioning frown, but he was off to greet his older granddaughter and her husband. She gave up and joined them.
Sig beamed at her.
"A week on the island is just what we need."
"What island?"
"Labreque Island, idiot. It's peak fall foliage, the weather's not too cold." She blushed, smiled at her husband.
"Not that it matters."
Matt slipped an arm around her.
"John's laid in provisions. He's even appropriated a canoe for us."
Riley stared at them.
"A canoe?"
"We'll be the last two people to stay at the cottage Sig said, as if Riley knew what she was talking about.
"Then the island becomes part of the nature preserve."
Emile nodded, pleased. Riley scowled at him.
"You knew?"
He blinked at her.
"Knew what?"
"Oh, phooey, you know what I'm talking about. Has Straker been to see you? How do you know " "You ask too many questions," her grandfather told her.
"Come on, Matt. I'll help you with your packs."
Matt grinned at Riley.
"You and your sister talk. I'm with you, Riley.
I think you've been plotted against. "
"You just be quiet," Sig said, giving him a shove.
He and Emile took the packs down to the dock. Riley saw Straker's boat, out across the bay, bee lining in their direction. Her sister dropped her sunglasses over her eyes.
"Don't kid yourself, Riley.
You're in love with him. " She laughed.
"Thank God I'm not the only idiot in the family."
"Matt really loves you."
"I know." Her laughter faltered.
"When Henry had that knife on me, that's what kept me going. Just knowing that single-minded dope loves me, that he'll love our babies."
" '; " "-& " We're going to be okay. A week out here. " She breathed in the cool air.
"It's perfect."
"Straker's idea?"
"He called a few days ago. We accepted immediately. I can't explain it--it's as if he knew this is what we need to put this whole thing behind us. Maybe it's because it helped him put his own ordeal behind him."
"I hope your week doesn't bleed into six months."
Sig shook her head.
"It can't. I'm not having twins out on a damned island. And I plan to be back on Beacon Hill before the snow flies."
She turned to her sister.
"Thank you, Riley. For all you did."
"I didn't" -- "You and Straker saved Matthew, and you saved me."
Riley swallowed.
"Straker..." She sighed, never one to articulate her feelings easily.
"We have nothing in common."
Sig grinned.
"I beg to differ."
And when Straker pulled up to the dock, Sig waved and ran down to greet him. He jumped out of his boat, kissed her on the cheek. The sight of him took Riley's breath away. She walked slowly down to the dock, hyper aware of those gray eyes on her as she helped Matt and Emile load up the boat.
"I stocked up," Straker said, "but if you want any gourmet food, I hope you brought it."