But it was all none of her business; she shouldn’t even be reading it. Nerves quivering, Tara picked up the soiled laundry and closed the door to the bedroom. Whatever Carla Calloway’s secrets were, they were hers alone.
Tara sighed, feeling desperately weary and at odds with herself. She didn’t think she could settle down enough to work on the website or to do the filing that waited in one of the wire baskets. Vanessa would arrive soon; together they’d make sure the animals were fed and watered, but then what?
Boomer traipsed after her, whining softly.
“I know, boy,” she consoled. “It’s been some day!”
13
Wally thanked Emmet Plait, Todd’s right-hand man, who signed out the dory he was to borrow for the day. The loaner was a muscular craft with deep gunwales and a high prow. He’d take her real easy on the trip back with the supplies he needed, but he looked forward to heading out onto the bay and feeling the wind through his hair. He might even have time to look for cliff sparrows or a tricolored heron with the binoculars he kept in his tackle box. He took a deep breath of sea air and felt his spirits lift.
He needed a couple more three-foot oak boards to complete the job on Annie’s pantry. His truck was in the shop. Besides, it was more convenient to pick up what he needed by boat since the mill was located up the coast halfway to Petersgrove. Wally grinned at his rationalization as he prepared to launch the dory. Given the choice, he’d take travel by sea over land any day!
When he was a kid, he had depended on the sea to provide some sanity in his life. When Pop was too drunk to navigate the sound and work his traps, Wally would take the boat out into the middle of the bay alone. Sometimes, idling there under the sky, he imagined his mother calling. He learned to listen for her accents in the keening of the gulls as a soft wind ruffled his hair and swept across his cheek like a caress.
One day, he tried to tell Jem, “Listen! It’s like she’s here!”
“It’s just the stupid gulls—rats with wings!” Jem only laughed and called him a baby. After that, Wally kept it to himself.
He didn’t imagine he heard her voice anymore. Still, peace poured over him like a benediction when he glided through the water. He felt satisfied there, whole. But feeling that way had a lot to do with Peggy and God’s gift of their sweet Emily.
Peggy would be at The Cup & Saucer, dashing about to fill orders, that smile of hers lighting up the diner like a strobe light. Something nagged at the back of his mind as he thought of her. Hearing how frequently Jem stopped in for coffee bothered him. He was staying in Petersgrove, said he had business there, but he showed up a lot in Stony Point.
Peggy had never given him reason to be jealous, even though she often referred to her customers in that super-friendly way of many waitresses. More coffee, sweetie? What can I get for you, dearie? Anything for dessert, honey? Peggy loved everyone and rushed to the defense of the world, but she was his alone. Still, he knew how charming Jem could be. How he could wow the girls and get them to do anything he wanted. Just yesterday Peggy had told him, “Your brother left a five-dollar tip for a cup of coffee and a doughnut.”
Well, if he can afford five-dollar tips, he didn’t need to swipe a hundred-dollar bill from the Gas N Go, Wally thought. So maybe he could put his mind to rest on that score. Maybe. Recalling the conversation between Ian and Annie brought a quick shudder of dread. He and Jem had been only two of the many customers visiting the station that Friday. Any of them could have done it. Why zero in on Jem? Why did he still see his brother as the unruly kid with a chip on his shoulder—a kid who lifted things from unsuspecting tourists and regulars who weren’t watching?
Even after all these years, Wally could picture the watch Jem had stolen with uncanny accuracy. It was a two-toned Rolex—yellow gold and stainless steel—with a silver dial and shiny markers. Gold hour and minute hands glistened in its face with a date window at three o’clock. The gold band had flexed easily in Jem’s fingers. “Where’d you get that?”
Jem had quickly stuffed the watch into his pocket and shrugged. “Got it off some guy I took on an all-day fishing trip. He needed a guide—somebody who knows the waters like the back of his hand.”
A Rolex, even 20 years ago, cost a pretty penny, Wally knew. A lot more than the usual few bucks the summer people would give for an afternoon jaunt, especially to a tadpole like Jem, whether he knew the area or not. He didn’t remember what had happened to the watch after that long-ago day. It surprised him now that the memory had come back so vividly.