“Why the sad face?” he asked, reaching out to put his arm around her shoulder.
“Nothing, I just love being out here with you again. Where should we go?”
“You’re the captain,” he said.
When they finally cleared the channel into the lake, she looked for boat traffic in both directions and then powered the EmmaLee II up into the broad expanse of blue water out ahead. A fleet of small sailboats from a sailing class moved in random directions off to their left in front of Depot Beach and the old train station. Two jet skis loudly flew across the water a few hundred yards in front of them, throwing off giant rooster tail wakes behind them. Sally sat up on the back of the seat so she could feel the wind in her face and hair. Alex joined her, and she held on to his knee with one hand as she steered with the other.
They cruised along the north shore of Lake Charlevoix, pointing at new homes that had been built, familiar places they’d seen or visited before. As they went by the inlet into Oyster Bay, they saw a dozen boats of all sizes and descriptions already gathering for a day of partying in the calm bay. A gray-haired couple paddled slowly along the shore in long white kayaks, their paddles moving in a synchronized rhythm.
Sally pressed the throttle down until the engine rumbled behind them at nearly full speed. Before long, she turned the boat slowly around the point into Horton Bay. The gentle calm of the bay greeted them as they cleared the point and Sally throttled back. The big wake from behind caught up with them and the swell pushed the little Chris Craft up and forward before it settled on the flat surface. A large sailboat was at anchor in the middle of the bay and two people worked along the deck preparing for the day’s coming sail. All else was quiet on this morning and images of the deep green woods reflected back at them across the water. She turned the engine off, and they floated now in silence. Neither spoke for a while, enjoying the quiet tranquility of the place and just being together. The couple on the sailboat waived from a distance when they saw the little boat drifting into the bay.
“Every time I come down here,” Sally said softly, as if she might break the serenity of the scene, “I feel like this is a magical place that only exists in my memories and I have to wonder if it’s all real. Is it really here when I’m gone?”
Alex slid over closer to her and held her close to him. “I know how much this place has meant to you and your family over the years. I wish I could have known your parents and spent time with them when they were here.”
Sally smiled and turned to kiss him on the cheek. “Old Horton Creek over there, Daddy used to fish with George and I always laughed at the stories and lies they would tell about the fish they caught.” She laughed, thinking back on her father with Uncle George. “We’ve come a long way past those old days on Horton Creek. How can time pass so quickly?”
“You know,” Alex said, “every day up here is magic and a special gift. It can take away all the other crazy worries.”
Sally turned and kissed him, this time on the mouth and they sat there together holding each other, listening to the birds in the trees, feeling the soft breeze coming now from over the hills to the west, letting the moment just hold them and comfort them.
Chapter Fourteen
I can remember Emily McKendry having no second thoughts about reaching out to help Agnes Slayton and her daughter, Sara. Those days that summer in 1952 were tough for many of us, but Emily really stirred up a hornet’s nest.
Emily stood at the sink in the kitchen as she finished filling the coffee pot and plugged it in on the counter against the outside wall. Boxes were stacked all around her as they were packing for the move up to the new house on Michigan Avenue. Agnes and Sara Slayton sat at a small table in the corner, plates of eggs and toast in front of them. The little girl wore the same faded dress she had on from the previous day when Emily had insisted with Jonathan and Sheriff Potts they get them away from the Slayton farm and any more abuse at the hands of Harold Slayton. There had been no time to gather clothes or other belongings.
“I’m going to take you both shopping downtown when we finish breakfast, get you some new clothes and a few things at the drug store so you can get freshened up,” Emily said.
Agnes Slayton finished swallowing her orange juice and placed the glass back on the table. “Dr. McKendry, you really don’t need to do that.” Her face showed a weariness that caused all the curves in her face to sag and there was a deep sadness in her eyes. The bruise on her cheek had faded some but still left a grim reminder of the previous day. “We can’t thank you enough…”
“Agnes, I want to do this for you and Sara,” Emily said.
Jonathan walked into the kitchen dressed for work down at his boatyard, heavy denim jeans and a well-worn canvas shirt. On his head was a Detroit Tigers ball cap that had seen more than a few seasons. “Good morning to all,” he said, checking out the coffee pot that was just beginning to perk. Their two guests looked up from their breakfast and nodded.
“Emily, can I speak with you for a minute,” he said, gesturing they should go out the side door. He closed the door behind them and walked out along the narrow drive. Large oaks framed the sky above them and the flowers Emily had planted along the house were filled with bees making their way among the blossoms. Jonathan’s truck was parked on the street in front of the house.
“Honey, I’m not sure I want to leave you alone today,” Jonathan said. “This Slayton guy isn’t just going to go away. He’s gonna come looking for his wife and daughter.”
“I know,” Emily said, wiping her hands on a white apron tied around her waist. “I already talked to the sheriff on the phone this morning. He’s going to have one of his men keep an eye on us today.”
“I’m damned tempted to go back out to that farm and talk some sense into that worthless piece of trash,” he said.
“Jonathan, you stay away from him! Let the sheriff take care of this.”
“If you see him even peek around a corner today, I want you to call me, you understand?”
“We’ll be fine,” Emily said.
He took her in his arms and held her close and she felt the warm comfort of him around her and the smell of boats and varnish in his clothes. “I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” he said and then he kissed her as his eyes lingered on hers. “You’ve always been the one to take in the lost puppy, haven’t you?”
“Kind of like you a few years back,” she teased.
Jennifer Harris sat on the front porch of their summer house She wore a big cotton robe pulled up tightly around her neck. On her lap was a new copy of The Diary of Anne Frank that had just come out earlier in the year. She reached for a mug of coffee on a small table next to her. When she looked up, she saw Sammy Truegood coming up the front walk. She felt a hollowness in her stomach, and she looked around quickly to see if anyone else was nearby. Putting the coffee back down she stood up and started to walk to the door.
“Jennifer, wait,” Sammy said.
She stopped and looked over her shoulder. Not sure if she was feeling fear, anger or both, she did know she didn’t want to talk to him. “You need to leave, now!”
“I just want to talk to you for a minute,” Sammy said.
“I can’t believe you came here!” she said.
“Jennifer, just give me a minute, please.”
She stood staring at him, wondering if she should run inside. Her brother would be furious if he found them here. Her father was still back in Chicago. “Sammy…”
“I just need you to know I didn’t do any of those things your friends are saying,” he said. “I would never do something like that. I would never hurt you.”
Jennifer shook her head slowly and looked at the wood planks on the porch at her bare feet. “I don’t know what happened, Sammy.”
The door behind her opened and she turned to see her brother, Connor, coming out onto the porch. He had a furious look on his face. Jennifer stepped in front of him and said, “Conn
or, it’s okay, Sammy just came by…”
Connor pushed her aside and almost ran down the porch steps. “You sonofabitch! What the hell are you doing here!” he yelled.
Sammy held his ground and Connor reached out and grabbed his shirt near both shoulders, pushing him back. Sammy could see the hate and fury in his eyes and knew there would be no reasoning with the man. He slapped his arms away and braced for a fight. Connor came at him again, this time swinging wildly, a punch that Sammy easily ducked under.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Mr. Harris,” Sammy said. “I came to tell Jennifer and your family I didn’t do those things they’re saying. You have to believe me.”
Connor rushed at him again and grabbed him by both arms and tried to throw him to the ground. Sammy pulled his right arm free and swung out hard to defend himself, catching Connor on the cheek. He could feel bones in his fist breaking as the punch landed with a loud smack on Harris’ cheekbone. The blow landed solidly and caught Connor off balance. He staggered and then fell into the grass. His eyes glassed over, and he looked up with a dazed expression.
“Sammy, stop!” Jennifer screamed, running down from the porch. She came up next to him and looked down at her brother lying on the lawn and then back at Sammy Truegood. “Haven’t you done enough?” she yelled. “You need to leave now!”
Sammy started backing down the walk. “You just need to believe me. I never touched you. I never hurt you.”
The bright light of the sun came through the small smudged window of a room at the Sheriff’s Department. It was shining directly in the eyes of George Hansen and he got up from the table and went over to close a dusty old blind. The room smelled of stale coffee and cigarette smoke. He sat back down and looked across the table at Andy Welton. The boy was well-dressed in the current styles of the summer kids, his sandy hair neatly combed. Sheriff Willy Potts sat at the end of table listening to George take his deposition from the young man.
“Now let me make sure I have all this correct, Mr. Welton,” George said. “You and your friends were down at the beach that night with Jennifer Harris and you were the one who brought the liquor?”
“Yes sir,” Andy said, his hands folded in front of him on the table.
“And you shared that liquor with Jennifer and her friend Elaine that evening?”
“Yes, we did, sir, and to the other kids who were down there.”
“And that included Mr. Truegood?”
“No, I don’t remember he was drinking.”
George made a note on a pad in front of him. “And as the evening went on, you noticed Jennifer Harris had disappeared from the campfire and you sent Elaine looking for her?”
“Yes, well…” Andy said, his hands beginning to fidget.
“Why didn’t you go looking yourself?” Sheriff Potts asked.
Andy looked over at the sheriff and considered his question for a moment. “I don’t know, I just asked Elaine if she had seen where Jennifer went off to and then she got up and went to look for her.”
“And where was Sam Truegood when all this happened?” asked George.
“He was gone, too,” Andy said.
“But he wasn’t gone because you ran in to him and tried to start a fight with him?”
“No, I told you, that was later when we saw him coming back over the dunes and we didn’t try to start anything. We were just goofing around.”
“So, you saw him later, after Elaine found Jennifer?” the sheriff asked.
“That’s right.”
“But you didn’t see him with Jennifer?” George asked.
“No, just when we first got down to the beach and they had all been swimming.”
“So, tell me again why you think Sammy was with her when she was… attacked,” George asked, looking down at his notes and jotting some additional entries.
“I don’t think anything, Mr. Hansen. We all saw Sammy coming back over the dunes from that direction and then Elaine went up there and found her passed out and… well you know, she had been raped.”
“Tell me what time again you think this all occurred, when you saw Sammy coming back and Elaine went to find Jennifer Harris,” asked George.
“I told you, I think it was around 10:30,” Andy said, “at least it was pretty dark by then.”
“Sammy says he was back in town by 10 and heard about Jennifer being at the hospital later from one of the other kids who had been down at the beach,” said Potts.
Andy scratched his head. “Well, again, I’m not exactly sure on the times.”
“You don’t seem to be exactly clear on many of the facts about that night, Mr. Welton,” George said, looking him directly in the eyes.
“Look, we’d been drinking a little too, and well, you can’t expect me to remember everything.”
George slammed his fist down on the table and Andy Welton jolted back in his chair. “I expect you to tell the truth!” he yelled. “And you better damn well be ready to tell the truth when I get you on the stand in court!”
Andy recovered some sense of composure and returned George’s intense stare. “You can try to twist this any way you want, sir, but I’m telling you and my friends will tell you, that damn Indian had his way with Jennifer and you better not let him off the hook with any damn legal nonsense!”
George closed his folder and put the pen in his coat pocket. “I think we’re done here, Sheriff.”
Emily McKendry walked into the waiting room of her clinic with one of her patients she had just finished with. It was an older woman with bent posture and a slow plodding gait and Emily walked with her, holding her arm.
“Thank you, Mrs. Prescott,” Emily said, stopping to let the woman talk with the receptionist. “You get that prescription filled and you should be feeling much better by tomorrow morning.”
The old woman nodded and started reaching in her purse to pay the young girl behind the desk.
Emily looked over and saw Agnes Slayton sitting on the floor in the corner playing a game of checkers with her daughter, Sara. They had gone shopping earlier in the morning and both had new dresses on and new pairs of shoes. The sheriff’s deputy sat in a chair along the far wall reading a magazine. Emily walked over to Sara and her mother. “Who’s winning?”
Sara looked up with a big grin and said, “I won three games already, Dr. McKendry!”
The girl’s mother looked up and smiled, too and Emily felt some sense of relief in seeing them with happy expressions despite the bruises on their faces and bodies.
“Are you two getting hungry? It’s close to lunch time and I thought I would run out and pick up some sandwiches from down the street,” Emily offered.
“I really like peanut butter and jelly,” Sara said quietly.
“That would be real nice,” Agnes said, “whatever you can get will be just fine. And thank you again so much for helping us.” She looked down at her new dress. “I’m just worried about Harold and…”
“I told you not to worry about him anymore. We’ll let the sheriff take care of that.”
“But what if they arrest him?” Agnes Slayton said, panic clear on her face. “Who’s going to take care of the farm and everything?”
“The first thing is to make sure you and Sara are safe,” Emily said. “Do you understand me?”
Agnes Slayton nodded slowly, but the doubt was clear in her expression.
“You wait here, I’ll run down the street and then after lunch I have a break in appointments and I can take you back up to the house for the rest of the afternoon,” Emily said.
She went out into the bright noon sun and walked down to Bridge Street. The heat of the day was building, and she felt a sweat breaking out across her forehead. She saw him coming before Harold Slayton noticed her on the sidewalk in front of him. Emily stopped, feeling the prickles of fear rush through her. She looked around quickly to see if she could call anyone for help. When she looked back, Slayton had seen her and was coming quickly her way.
“Lady,
you hold up there, dammit!” he yelled.
Emily knew it was pointless to run and she stood there watching him come up in front of her. She could smell the whiskey on his breath again. His old tired face was unshaven and puffy, and his eyes were clouded gray and wet.
“You seen my damn wife and kid?” he asked, his words slurred and thick.
“Mr. Slayton…”
He reached out and grabbed the front of her blouse and jerked her violently toward him. “You gonna stop messin’ in other people’s business, lady. I don’t care if you are some fancy doctor.”
Emily struggled to pull his arm loose. “Let go of me!”
Before she could react, he lashed out and slapped her across the cheek with the back of his other hand. Emily’s head flew back. Her blouse ripped free of his grasp as she fell to the pavement. The pain of the blow flashed through her brain. She closed her eyes as she fell until the back of her head crashed into the brick wall of the storefront. She felt a new wave of pain and then a dull fogginess. Her vision blurred as she tried to look up at Slayton. She saw him leaning down for her when someone came up and grabbed him and then threw him up against the wall.
Emily could see what was happening, but it all seemed to be in slow motion and then she felt her consciousness fading. As the last vision of Harold Slayton faded, she sensed a darkness coming over her and the last thing she remembered was his angry voice yelling at her.
Chapter Fifteen
Megan Clark and Rebecca were driving back into town from Petoskey late in the afternoon, just coming down the hill to the drawbridge when the cell phone in her purse rang. She reached down and found it.
“Hello, this is Megan.”
“Hey, Megan, this is Will, Will Truegood.”
“Will, how are you? How did you get this number?”
“Your mom, I mean Sally gave it to me,” Will said.
“Well hi!” she said, looking over at her friend Becca with a surprised look. Becca gave her a disapproving scowl in return. “So, what’s up?”
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