The Summer Town

by Michael Lindley

  There was silence for a few moments on the other end of the phone and then Will answered quietly, “Megan, I need some help.”

  “Well sure, what kind of help?”

  “Can I come over to see you?” he asked.

  “Sure, we’re just getting back into town. Where are you?”

  “Well, I’m at the sheriff’s office here in Charlevoix.”

  “The sheriff?” Megan asked.

  “The sheriff!” Becca echoed.

  “It’s a long story, but I need to talk to you,” Will said.

  “Can you meet us down in the park? We’ll be there in just a minute,” she offered.

  She listened to Will say, “Okay,” on the other end of the line and then the phone clicked dead.

  Megan found a parking space along Bridge Street and the two girls managed to cross the road in the heavy traffic. They found an empty bench along the sidewalk at the park and sat down looking for Will Truegood to come through the crowds.

  “What in the world do you think that boy got himself into?” Rebecca asked.

  Megan just shook her head and didn’t answer.

  Her friend said, “Megan, you really don’t need these complications. What’s Rick going to say?”

  She looked over at Rebecca. “Sometimes, I have to ask myself what you could possibly be thinking,” Megan said. “Will is a friend and it sounds like he needs help.”

  “What if it’s drugs or something?”

  “Let’s just see what he has to say and forget about what Rick might think, alright?” She looked over to her left and saw Will coming down the sidewalk. They made eye contact and Megan waved. He had a tired and confused expression in his face.

  He sat down next to her and leaned forward with his hands on his knees, looking at the ground. “Thanks for coming down,” he said slowly.

  Even his voice sounded different, Emily thought, no longer confident and playful, but clearly defeated. She put her hand on his shoulder. “What’s happened?” she asked.

  He looked up at her. “I got arrested this morning for stealing a car.”

  “Ohmigod!” Rebecca said.

  Megan turned to her friend and gave her a look that said, Calm down or leave! She looked back at Will Truegood. “You were arrested?”

  He told the girls the whole story, waking up that morning, the red convertible, the police.

  “How can a car like that just show up in your driveway,” Megan asked. “Wouldn’t you have heard someone driving it up to your house?”

  Will stood up and started pacing in front of the girls. “I’ve been thinking about that all day and all I can come up with is whoever left it there, pushed it down my road with the engine off.”

  “Why would anyone want to do something so stupid,” asked Rebecca.

  “Good question,” Will said and then sat back down next to Megan. A police car cruised slowly past and an officer in the passenger seat watched Will as they went by. He jumped up again, obviously nervous and concerned. The patrol car kept moving on down the road.

  “And whose car was it,” Megan asked.

  “Some lady named Wainwright, here in Charlevoix.”

  “I bet it’s Melissa Wainwright,” Rebecca said. “She’s got a little red sports car.”

  “You know her?” Will asked.

  Megan got up and walked over to lean against a tree trunk next to the sidewalk. “She’s one of the kids who run with our group up here in the summers,” Megan said. “She’s from Chicago.”

  “She must be really pissed about all this,” Rebecca said.

  Megan looked at Will and was thinking about the series of events he had described and the revelation it was Melissa Wainwright’s car.

  Louis Kramer was sitting in one of his wife’s family boats moored at the dock. He had a glass of beer in one hand and a cell phone to his ear with the other. He finished the call to his assistant back in New York. The boat rocked, and he looked behind him to see two men coming over the transom. He jumped up, dropping his beer, the glass breaking on the deck of the boat.

  “Hey Louis, glad we finally found you. Don’t answer your phone very regularly, do you? Very rude, very rude,” the first man said, a big man dressed in a crisp blue blazer with a pink and blue striped shirt open at the neck. His hair was dark, but graying and cut short, the ends standing straight up on top. His face was puffy and flushed and he spoke with an accent that had clear ties to New York. The second man, even bigger, stood behind him and just stared at Louis with a practiced glare.

  “Hey Alberto,” Louis said nervously. “I’ve been trying to call you back.”

  “Yeah right, Kramer,” the man named Alberto replied. “Just relax and sit down. We need to have a little talk.

  “Alberto, listen man, this whole thing will work itself out.”

  “Louie, just shut up for a minute.” The two men pulled chairs over to sit in front of him. “You know we have a sizable investment in your little venture here, a legitimate investment in the stock of this damn business you and Alex Clark have managed to totally screw-up with the Feds.”

  “I’ve told you…”

  “I said shut up!” Alberto leaned forward, close to Louis’s face. “When I bought the block of stock and invested in your new company, I told you I trusted you to run the business in a manner consistent with your other successes with Clark. I thought we had an understanding about that.”

  Louis just nodded.

  “I’m sure you know how the value of those shares has fallen in the last weeks and now they’ve suspended trading. Do you have any damn idea how much money I have at stake here?”

  Louis swallowed hard and just shook his head again.

  “I’m just here to tell you we expect you to make this right, one way or the other. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Alberto, we’ve known each other a long time and you know I will make this right.”

  “Let me be very clear with you. I don’t care if your ass rots in jail for 25 years, you’re going to make this right for me one way or the other.”

  “You know the legal system better than I do,” Louis said, trying to smile. “This could take a while to work itself out, but…”

  Alberto stood suddenly. The chair flew across the deck of the boat behind him. “I’m not a patient man, Louis, and I have no intention of waiting for you to get your ass run through the mill by these guys.”

  “If you’re saying you want to get cashed out, hell that’s close to twenty million bucks!” Louis said. “I can’t get that kind of cash.”

  The big man next to Alberto stood up and towered over Louis, his expression never changing.

  “Oh, I think you can do amazing things when you put your mind to it, Louie,” Alberto said.

  The sound of footsteps on the dock caused all three men to turn. Mary Alice walked up to the side of the boat. She was wearing a black swimsuit cut low in front with a flowered wrap around her waist. “Louis, would you like to introduce me to your friends,” she said.

  Alberto answered first, “We were just leaving.” He reached out his hand to shake hers. “I’m Alberto Manta and this is my friend, Raul.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Mary Alice said unevenly.

  “We’re old friends of Louis and we were in town, so we just wanted to stop by quickly and say hello.”

  Mary Alice looked over at Louis and could see the uneasy look on his face. “Honey, have you asked your friends to stay for a drink?”

  “No…” Louis started to say.

  “No thank you, Mrs. Kramer. We were just leaving and have to get back to the airport.”

  The two men climbed out of the boat and Mary Alice moved aside to allow them to pass. Alberto turned and said, “Nice seeing you again, Louie. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kramer. Call me tomorrow when I’m back in New York, Louie and we can work through the details.”

  “Sure,” Louis barely managed to say without choking. He watched as Alberto Manta slowly walked away down the dock, fo
llowed by Raul.

  “You really need to give me more warning when you have friends coming over,” Mary Alice said.

  Louis didn’t answer, he just kept watching the two men walk up the lawn and around the house. Under his breath he whispered, “Shit.”

  The sun was nearly down over the far tree line across the field of low corn. Sheriff Elam Stone drove slowly up the drive of the old farmhouse of Vince Slayton. He had a deputy sitting beside him and another patrol car with two officers behind them. The dust blew up around the cars and made it difficult to see the house as they came to a stop. A big German Shepherd dog came running around the house barking and showing a lot of big teeth.

  “Crap!” the sheriff said. Looking over at his deputy he said, “Billy, can you reach that tranquilizer gun in the back. We need to drop that damn dog!”

  Through the dust, Elam saw a man walk out onto the porch of the house that hadn’t seen fresh paint for decades. The roof sagged over his head and looked like it could crash down on him at any minute. The man whistled, and the dog came running back up on to the porch. He tied a rope that was lying by his feet to the dog’s collar.

  “Let’s go, Billy,” the sheriff said, releasing the snap over the :45 automatic in the holster at his waist and opening the car door. The three deputies spread out in a formation behind him and they all walked slowly up to the porch.

  “You Vince Slayton?” the sheriff asked.

  “What d’ya want?” the man on the porch said. His face seemed to have a permanent scowl carved across it and his right hand twitched like he was trying to chase a fly away from his leg. He was wearing faded Army surplus camo pants and a white t-shirt cut off at the shoulders with a picture of Kid Rock on the front. His hair was a dirty brown color and tied in a long ponytail down to the middle of his back.

  “I asked you a question, son,” the sheriff said. “You Vince Slayton?”

  “Yeah, I’m Slayton, what the hell you want?”

  “We’re gonna need you to come with us to town to answer a few questions.”

  “We can talk just fine right here.” The big dog stood by his side and growled, his lips curling up to reveal those teeth again.

  “No, actually we can’t talk here,” Stone said, “and you’re going to town with us now!”

  Slayton stood staring at them for a few moments, his expression never changing.

  “Are you going to make this more difficult than it needs to be, Mr. Slayton?” Stone said, wiping away the perspiration starting to form along his brow.

  Another man walked through the door and stood behind Slayton, a younger looking version about twenty pounds lighter. “What the hell’s all this?” the man said.

  “The boys here need to talk to me.”

  “Bout what?”

  “Yeah, Sheriff, bout what?” Vince Slayton said.

  Stone could feel his patience running low and said, “Let’s just go into town.”

  “You got a damn warrant?”

  “Well, as a matter of fact we do, and a couple of my men here are going to stay behind and look around a little.”

  “What the hell’s this about!” the other man shouted.

  “Who is this?” Stone asked.

  “My little brother,” Slayton answered.

  “Tell your brother to shut his damn mouth and you get your ass down here now, or we’ll haul it outta here, you hear me!” the sheriff said.

  Vince Slayton turned and whispered something to his brother and then started slowly down the rickety old steps of the porch.

  Sheriff Stone nodded to one of his deputies and the young man came up and met Slayton and patted him down for weapons.

  “I ain’t got no lawyer,” Slayton said.

  “You think you need one?” the sheriff said.

  Sally and Alex pulled the EmmaLee II into the small boathouse along the south shore of Round Lake. Alex secured the lines and Sally went over to pull the switch to let the big door down.

  “I’ll never forget the first day you brought me down here,” Alex said.

  “Down to the boathouse?” Sally asked.

  “Yeah, you know, that first summer.”

  Sally smiled and came over to him and put her arms around his waist. “I remember.” She lifted up on her toes to kiss him. “I think little Emma here stole your heart more than I did.”

  Alex laughed. “I have to admit I had an immediate attraction for this little lady when I saw her floating here that day. But there was this tall blonde who really got my attention.” He kissed her again. “What’s that story you tell about your suspicions your parents lost their virginity down there on those soft leather seats?”

  “We’ll never know for sure,” Sally said, squeezing him closer to him.

  “I wonder how they did it?”

  “Alex!”

  “No, I mean those seats aren’t very big and…well you know what I mean?”

  “I’m not sure I do, Mr. Clark.”

  He took her by the hand and stepped back down into the EmmaLee II and then helped Sally down, too.

  “I think these back seats probably had the most room to… maneuver, don’t you think,” Alex said.

  Sally just smiled back at him. They sat down together on the back seat of the little runabout. He had his arm around her, and he pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the forehead and then on each cheek. When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes and they still shined even in the dark shadows of the closed-up old boathouse.

  “I think we both have too many clothes on to really know if this is going to work,” she said, trying to keep a serious expression.

  He reached for the buttons on her blouse. “I think I can help with that.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Slayton family was always a sad story. Years of poverty and alcoholism and abuse piled up year after year, the next generation always the unfortunate victims of the last.

  … the summer of 1952.

  The first sensation of consciousness was the warm touch of someone holding her hand. Emily opened her eyes and was immediately blinded by the bright overhead light. She squinted to look around and then realized she was in one of the examination rooms in her office. The voice of her husband caused her to turn and Jonathan stood there holding her hand, talking to her partner, Julian Rose. The doctor was dabbing gently with a wet cloth at a cut on her cheek. Emily saw the bright redness of her blood on it.

  “Is she going to need stitches?” she heard Jonathan ask.

  “Not here on her face, but that cut on the back of her head is going to take a few. Let’s keep that ice bag on it a while longer,” Dr. Rose said.

  Emily felt the icy cold under the back of her head and the sharp pain of the cut on her cheek. The right side of her face felt swollen and heavy.

  Jonathan noticed she was looking at him. “Emily…?”

  She tried to smile, but it hurt to move her face. “What’s all the fuss?” she said.

  “Thank God you’re back with us,” Jonathan said and then squeezed her hand softly.

  “Emily, just lie still for me a little longer,” Dr. Rose said. “I want to get this cheek cleaned up and dressed and then we’ll see about the back of your head.”

  The memory of Harold Slayton on the sidewalk came back to her. She closed her eyes and shivered, thinking about the confrontation. The cold fear she had felt was frightening and she knew the furious, hateful look in the man’s eyes would haunt her forever.

  “Are Sara and Agnes okay?” she asked slowly, finding it difficult to put the words together.

  “They’re fine,” Jonathan said. “The sheriff took them over to his office and they’re going to find another home for them to stay for a while.”

  “Where’s the father?” she asked weakly.

  She watched an angry expression flare on Jonathan’s face, “The bastard ran away and by the time someone called the sheriff, he was nowhere to be found.”

  Emily felt the fear rush through her again, knowing
the man was still out there. She tried to sit up on the exam table, but Dr. Rose held her shoulder gently and said, “You need to stay still. That head wound is ugly, and you probably have a concussion.”

  Sammy Truegood watched the doctor wrapping his hand as he sat on a table in the emergency room of the small hospital in Charlevoix. He had called his mother and George Hansen brought her down. They both stood watching the doctor working on him.

  “X-rays show a couple of broken bones behind the outside knuckles. Nothing serious, but he’ll have to keep it bandaged up for a few weeks,” the doctor said. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  Sammy saw his lawyer, Mr. Hansen, shaking his head. “Sammy, I told you to stay away from those people. Son, what were you thinking?” George asked.

  “I wanted to explain what happened,” Sammy said. “I don’t want them thinking I did these things.”

  His mother came up and put her arms around him and he felt her tears against his cheek. “Momma, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry about all this.”

  The doctor came back into the room. “Sheriff Potts just called. He’s been looking for Sammy and thought he’d try down here. He wants you to bring him down to his office.”

  George nodded without answering. He turned to Sammy and said, “Now you’re sure Connor Harris started this and took a swing at you?”

  “He came after me and I tried to explain I just wanted to talk and tell them I didn’t do this, but he just kept coming after me,” Sammy said. “Then he tried to hit me and throw me down and I had to stop him.”

  “I’m sure our friend, Connor Harris, will be waiting for us at the sheriff’s office with his own version of the story,” George said. “Sammy, I’ve got to tell you this isn’t going to help our case at all. They’re going to say now you attacked Jennifer’s brother, just further proof you’re dangerous.”

  Mary Truegood stepped back and looked at her son. Sammy felt sad to see the look of desperation on her face. “Momma, I’m…”

  “Sammy, you need to listen to Mr. Hansen,” his mother said. “You’re not helping yourself. You’re making this all so much worse.”