Dark Beach (15 page)

“Where are you?”

“I’m out. I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m fine. I just got side-tracked, that’s all. You’re busy. Don’t worry about me.”

“How could I not? What happened with the cops last night?”

“I can’t talk about it now. Can I call you back later?”

“Just tell me.”

“I will. It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Something’s up. I can tell by your voice.”

“Ron.”

“Fine, but you need to call me. I have my phone on me at all times. It’s crazy down here, but I’ll take your call, no matter what.” He paused. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I am. Really. I am.”

“Can you go by and see Nana for me.”

She sighed. “No.”

“Please?”

“Why?’

“I’m worried about her, too. After what happened the other day, I called the home. They won’t give me any info. I just want to know.”

“I can’t believe you want me to go there—even after what happened.” Jenny’s tone escalated.

“Don’t get upset. Never mind. Call me later ... I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She heard the rustling sound of Kurt rolling back to face her. He sighed.

SIX

The tackle shop was still open, even though it was way past closing time. The lights were off,
but Kurt sprinted down one crammed aisle, straight to the back window, as if he were focused on winning a gold medal.

“There she is.” He gazed appreciatively at the
Retty
. “Christ, they really did bring her back.” He turned back to the desk and read from the pile of papers on the counter. “Kurt where are you? Bill. Kurt, thought we were going fishing? Simon and Mable.” He sorted the piles into notes that needed to be added to customer accounts versus requests.

“
I sold a lot of goods today,” he told her. “Hell, I don’t think I even need to be here. This place runs itself, and I didn’t even get robbed.”

A worn dining chair sat by his front counter; Jenny took a seat.

“We should do this again sometime.” Kurt leaned over the counter to look at her.

She was a mess. Her hair was frizzy, her makeup washed off, and she was still wearing an ugly
pale green hospital gown and matching robe. Kurt had at least requested that his buddy bring him a change of clothes.

“You look great. Look at those tan grippy socks—don’t you just love grippy socks?”

“Stop it. I know what I look like, and what I feel like. And there is no way in hell you’re going to see me again.”

“Oh, come on now. It was a good day. We’re here. We got to know each other.” He coughed and winked at her. “Very well.”

Jenny stood up and leaned on the counter. Pushing her nose right up to his, she said, “I’m going to say thank you. I know you risked your life to save me, but I’m never EVER going to see you again.” She leaned down, snatched up the white plastic hospital bag from Kurt’s dirty floor and rifled through it for her car keys. Eventually finding them stuck in a pocket somewhere, she said, “I hope this key still works.”

“Salt water can be harsh, especially on batteries. Don’t worry. I’ll take you home if it doesn’t.”

“Like I said: it better work.”

“Come on. I’ll see you out.”

The button felt stiff, but Jenny kept pressing it. “This thing…”

“Here, let me look at it.” Kurt put out an open hand. “Take the fob off your key ring.”

He fidgeted with the fob until he got the back off, and then took the battery out, wiped it on his pants, and put it back in. He pressed the button. Nothing. “Looks like you need a ride home.”

“But my purse is in my car,” Jenny said, exasperated. She put her face up to the tinted glass and checked the front seats, then the back. “Wait. I don’t see it in here.” She scratched her head.

“You sure you didn’t bring it on the
Retty
?”

“Maybe. I don’t remember.”

“Here, take a seat in my truck and get warmed up.” Kurt opened the passenger door of his worn orange Ford, turned the ignition on, and flipped on the heat. “Just give it a minute. I’ll go down there real quick and look. What’s it look like?”

“It’s black, shiny, small, one long over-the-shoulder strap.”

“Sit tight.”

“I really need to get home.”

“Just a minute.” Closing the car door, he then ran off down the pier.

Jenny waited until he was out of sight. Then she scooted over into the driver’s seat, released the hand brake, and put the truck into reverse. “This thing is heavy.”

The truck was slow to accelerate, but once it got going she felt as though she could plow down anything in sight. She rolled down her window for some air; it felt fantastic.

There was not a light on in the beach house. “Kip!” She hurried up the rickety steps and unlocked the front door.

“Hello? Molly? Anyone here?”

“Shhh.”

“Kip?” Jenny whispered.

Molly Coggington pointed to the
small shape curled up in the rocking chair in the living room, rocking gently back and forth.

“
Oh, my God. Are you two okay?”

Mrs. Coggington nodded and smiled.

“She’s sleeping—my Kip?”

“She’s fine.”

“I’m sorry. I had an accident. I couldn’t come back and I don’t have my cell phone.”

“It’s on the counter.” She pointed.

“It is? I couldn’t find it earlier. I don’t know what to say. You’ve been here all day. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t worry.” Molly tilted her head at Jenny’s gown. “I meant to tell you. You need to ring Ron.”

“Thanks. I did. It was a bad day. I … I … don’t know where to begin.” Jenny started fidgeting, wringing her hands.

“It’s fine. You look exhausted, poor dear.”

“I’ll get her to bed, Molly. Thank you.”

Jenny carried her little girl steadily up the stairs. “My little angel baby, I love you,” she whispered, holding the child close and relishing the soft scent of no-tears shampoo and talc. Kip murmured in her sleep. “And you love me.” She placed the precious bundle down on her bed and tucked the sheets in over her. “There, there. Mamma won’t leave you again. It’s just the two of us now … well maybe the three of us.” Jenny patted her belly under the hospital gown. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow is a new day.”

* * *

Kurt stood outside the shop, clutching Jenny’s purse in hand.
“I need a beer.”

One cold beer later, and his feet up on the counter in the back of the shop, Kurt tried to tune out. He tossed the empty can across the room, missing the trashcan, and then pulled another from his twelve-pack carton and downed it as quickly as the first.

The last woman had been a local—hot though. It had ended very badly. He had tried to stay away from her afterward. Of course, the locals had mostly taken her side. Could he really blame them? He had been a bit of a rogue. Still, the dirty looks got old.

“Women!” He shook his head and snapped open another beer. At the back of his mind, a voice nagged,
I’m just no good. Even my mother left me.

Once a
good buzz set in, Kurt stumbled down the back stairs to the
Retty.
He downed a fourth can on the way and chucked the empty into the bushes.

“Thar she is, my pirat
e ship. I have no maiden, for am I laden.” He burped loudly and stumbled over onto the bow. “She’s no whore and certainly not a bore … and I’m no poet, that’s for sure.” He raised his beer can in the air and hollered. “Jenny—to you—you stole my truck, and my heart, but not my ship!”

And you’re married and you’re pregnant
,
he thought.
What the hell?

He leaned over the side, gazing down into the oily water. There was not a fish in sight. “Whoa there, buddy. Hold on
.” He slid on the slippery deck and then tried to regain balance, but his feet gave way, dropping him hard to the deck. His head knocked with a
thump
against the wooden railing as he went down.

* * *

“Charlie? Charlie!”

“Charlie. Charlie.”

“Where’s our doggie, Kip?” Jenny and Kip, both bundled in layers of warm grey sweatshirts, had searched the entire beach house, from top to bottom. Out on the lower back patio, they watched the wind whip at the tall grass and felt its salty lick from the corner of the patio, welcoming them to the morning.

There was no sign of Charlie anywhere. Jenny had put his food and water out inside the night before, thinking maybe he had just been hiding somewhere, afraid of the commotion from the police visit
, but he’d touched none of it.
Perhaps he escaped outside?
She placed the food on the back doorstep, and called his name again.

“Come sit by me.” Jenny sat and patted a white plastic beach chair next to her, identical to her own. “We’ll wait here and see if he comes.”

“Charlie.”

“Do you like the beach?”

“Ya.”

“It’s pretty here. Daddy wants to buy this house. Do you think we should?”

“Ya.”

Too worried to sit, Jenny stood again and paced the edge of the concrete patio, back and forth, calling out sporadically.

“Maybe we should call your daddy and see what he thinks?”

Kip nodded, her curls bouncing with the force of her exaggeration.

Jenny held down the number one on her cell phone.

“Honey, good morning,” Ron answered. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too.” She meant it.

“So what’s going on? How come you couldn’t talk yesterday? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I feel great. I slept great last night. I just had a strange day yesterday.”

Silence.

“Well?” he asked, finally. “Tell me.”

“I fell. I had to go to the hospital.”

“What?”

“I was in the ER when I called you. There were people around, listening. I couldn’t talk.”

Ron moved back, away from the sooty dry dock doors and the racket of drilling and hammering. He pressed two fingers against his other ear and huddled into a quiet, but just as filthy, corner. “You fell? Another blackout?”

“Yes, another episode. But I’m fine now. I’m back here, at the beach house.”

“I think you should just try to rest today. Don’t go out.”

“I will. I’ll stay here.”

“And put your feet up, and make sure you eat well.”

“I will … don’t worry.” Jenny continued pacing.

“And the cops?”

“They saw boot prints in the sand, but whoever it was had gone. The prints washed away farther down the beach. They asked me if I had a gun?”

“Do you?”

“I said I didn’t have one. By the way, I still can’t find Charlie. I’ve been looking all morning.”

“When did you last see him?” Ron sounded worried.

“Maybe before the guy with the lantern.”

“Two nights ago? Keep looking for him. You know he does this all the time. He’s probably outside. Maybe he’s in the car?”

“He’s not in the car.”

“The garage?”

“I checked there.”

“Have you tried his special treats—the pepperoni ones?”

“Yes.”

Ron waved away a welder who was hovering nearby to ask a question. “Have you been anywhere else, anywhere you can think of?”

“Maybe.”

The welder wouldn’t leave.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Keep looking. He’ll turn up. He’s like that. He takes off and comes back sometimes. You know that.”

“I know. But we’re in a new place. He only does that at home. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“He’s around. Now go rest. I’ll call you later. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Jenny hung up and plopped back down on the cold plastic chair. Kip grinned at her, happy to have company.

“DOG!” Jenny called. “Where are you?” She turned to Kip and extended her hand. “Let’s go down the beach path, see if we can see anything. Come on, follow me.” Stopping at the entrance to the dune, she examined the ground for footprints. Prints from the officers and deeper, larger prints from the unknown man jumbled together. She followed them, pushing through the grass, but there was no sign of the dachshund’s trail.

“He didn’t come down here.” She stood before the dune drop-off. “I don’t see anything. Where could he be?”

Kip shrugged.

“Let’s go back.”

When they reached the house, Kip ran back over to the chairs and sat, but Jenny shook her head. “Come on inside while I look.” She settled Kip on the couch with a biscuit and a glass of milk and went to search the back of the beach house again. No joy. She searched the patio, the deck of the master bedroom, and even the deck up on the hex room, scanning from side to side. No sign.