The Sweetest Summer(36)

            Within ten minutes, everyone had been brought up to speed on the day’s events, the status of ongoing investigations, and the two men in the lockup waiting for transport to the mainland. Precisely at seven p.m., Deon and Jake switched over to assigned patrol, Doug and Will were on station duty and would provide backup where it was needed, and Lowell and Cam would be off duty, getting some much-needed sleep. The last item on the agenda was updating the team on the custody-related kidnapping out of Maine.

            “Good job today, gentlemen. Everyone have a safe evening. I’ll be in the office a bit longer, then reachable by radio or cell, as always. Chip will handle the overnight roll call. See you tomorrow.” He prepared to head out.

            “How’s the little boy from the dock?”

            Clancy shrugged, wondering how he would answer Jake. What could he say? That he knew the kid’s aunt but couldn’t figure out how? That the woman had some kind of effect on him? That seeing her today felt like a punch to his gut? “I really don’t know,” was his answer. “Haven’t talked to the kid or his aunt since it happened.”

            “He seemed fine,” Chip said. “I got there right after it happened and all the witnesses said the boy popped up and started treading water. Never even panicked. That’s one tough little man.”

            Eventually, the room cleared. Clancy wandered down the hall to his office. He put his feet on the desk and rocked back in his chair, hands behind his head. He decided now was the time. He needed to step back, away from the glare. He would soften his gaze and keep his mind occupied with police business. And sooner or later, it would come to him. The Cricket situation would solve itself.

            The phone rang. It was Rowan. “Hey, Clancy. You doing good?”

            “Never better. And may I just say that you were stunning as the Safe Haven Mermaid Queen today. And my man Ashley looked dapper at the helm of the Oceanaire float.”

            His sister laughed, amused by his intentional mispronunciation of Ashton’s name. Clancy had enjoyed yanking his chain since their first meeting, and saw no reason to stop.

            “Yeah, well, thanks so much,” Rowan said. “I’ll pass it along to Ashley.”

            “So what’s up?”

            “I’m almost afraid to ask, but . . . any word from Duncan?”

            “Nah, but you know how he is.”

            “Yeah, unfortunately. I thought Ma was going to have a heart attack last year. I just don’t want her to get all worked up again.”

            The thought had crossed Clancy’s mind, too. Their mother had worried all last summer about Duncan because she hadn’t heard from him. No one had any idea where—or how—he was. True to form, Duncan arrived the evening of the annual Flynn family cookout on the last ferry, without a word of warning. He called Clancy to pick him up and drive him directly to their mother’s cottage.

            It had always struck Clancy as funny how his brother’s job required him to slip unnoticed into hostile territories, yet he loved making an entrance when he came home—the bigger, the better.

            Clancy smiled to himself. “Hey, Row, maybe this year a Navy helicopter will fly directly over Ma’s backyard, you know, and just air drop the bastard right into the crudités platter.”

            Rowan laughed. “Don’t joke. It could happen.”

            “I’m prepared for anything. Well, sis, I’d better go.”

            “Wait a sec. The other reason I called is that Ma told me you wanted your boxes that were in the attic.”

            He took his feet off the desk and sat up straight.