The Summer Town

by Michael Lindley

  “You’re still friends with George Hansen, the lawyer?”

  “He’s probably our closest friend up here, why?”

  Connor walked to the end of the bed and leaned on the brass railing. “I’m just worried he’s asking a lot of questions about that night out on the beach with Jennifer. I’m afraid he’s going to get that Indian kid off.”

  “Did you ever think he may just be innocent?” She watched as his face tightened and he looked away out the window. The rain still was falling in steady sheets now against the windowpane.

  “Emily, that damn kid attacked my sister and your friend, Hansen, is going to get him off as if nothing happened,”

  “And what do you expect me to do about it, as if I would anyway?”

  “Emily, our families have been friends for a long time. You and I go back a long way. You know we used to have feelings for each other.”

  “Connor…”

  “I’m just asking you to try to talk some sense into this Hansen guy, to at least get him to consider the evidence against this punk.”

  “From what I hear, there isn’t any,” Emily said. “Connor, George is just doing his job.” She heard footsteps in the hall and then saw her husband walk through the bedroom door.

  Jonathan stopped in surprise when he saw Connor Harris at the foot of their bed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “McKendry, just settle down,” Harris said. “I heard Emily was hurt and I just stopped by to see an old friend.”

  “Get the hell out, now!” Jonathan said.

  “Jonathan!” Emily said.

  “Emily, it’s okay,” Connor said and then he turned to look at Jonathan. “You know, I think back to that summer a lot, what was it, ’41?”

  Jonathan didn’t respond.

  “I never had a chance to say how badly I felt about Hansen’s sister, what was her name...?”

  “Catherine,” Jonathan said, trying to keep control.

  “It was a real shame how it all came out.”

  “She’d be alive today if it wasn’t for you, Harris.”

  Connor backed up as if Jonathan was going to come after him. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, but it was your own damn brother who killed her!”

  “Connor!” Emily screamed.

  “Harris, you get out of my house now before I throw your ass out,” Jonathan said, moving around the bed toward him.

  “Settle down, I’m leaving.”

  “I don’t want to see you around here again,” Jonathan said. “You stay away from Emily. Do you hear me?”

  Connor looked over at Emily and then stared hard back at Jonathan. Finally, he turned and walked out of the room without saying another word.

  George Hansen opened the door of the courthouse for Mary Truegood and her son, Sammy. They had just come from the preliminary hearing that finalized the charges against Sammy in the Jennifer Harris case.

  George stopped on the front steps and turned to face the Truegoods. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to head this off. It’s amazing the Judge can hand down charges with so little direct evidence.”

  “What did all of this mean, Mr. Hansen?” Sammy Truegood asked.

  “Sammy, you’re being charged with first degree sexual assault,” George said.

  “I didn’t do this!” he protested.

  “Sammy, as long as Jennifer Harris and her friends stick to their stories, which I have to say are extremely circumstantial, there is the possibility the prosecutor can get a conviction.”

  “And how bad could that be?” Mary Truegood asked.

  “I’m afraid Sammy could be in jail for a very long time,” George said.”

  “What does circumstantial mean,” Sammy asked.

  “Well, it’s a little confusing, but basically it means there are a series of events or circumstances that lead to a conclusion something happened,” he explained. “The good news is it’s very difficult to get a conviction based entirely upon circumstantial evidence. So far, no one has come forward as a witness to actually seeing anything improper happening.”

  “That’s because nothing did happen!” Sammy said.

  “I know son. The biggest challenge we have is the testimony of Jennifer’s friend, Elaine Howard, who says she saw you coming back over the dunes just before she went back there and found Jennifer.”

  “I’ve told you, that’s a lie!” Sammy protested.

  “Doesn’t she have to tell the truth in the court, Mr. Hansen?” Sammy’s mother asked.

  “She will take an oath and if she doesn’t tell the truth, that’s called perjury and she could be charged with a crime. Let’s hope that’s enough to convince her to do what’s right.”

  “But why is she doing this?” Sammy asked. It was the hundredth time he’d asked this very same question, both in his mind and with his lawyer, George Hansen.

  George sighed and looked off across the lawn of the courthouse. “I don’t know, Sammy. I really don’t know.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Anna Bataglia sat across the big mahogany table in the dining cabin from Sally Clark. Alex sat at the head of the table and reached for the bell to have the server come back in with dessert. Behind him on the wall was a painting Sally had done of the EmmaLee that first summer the ship had come back to Charlevoix. It was a scene from Round Lake with the ship at anchor and the homes along the hill on the north shore as a backdrop.

  Anna watched Sally as she finished her meal and again the feelings of jealously came back to her and she tried to push the thoughts away, but damn, here was this beautiful woman who had met one of the nicest and richest men in the country; homes in New York, Charlevoix, Palm Beach, the Bahamas, this incredible ship, the jets and on and on. She thought about her own failed marriage and how Richard had never come close to measuring up to Alex Clark. Maybe this is just the wine.

  “Ladies, would you like a different wine with dessert?” Alex asked.

  “Sure,” answered Anna almost too quickly.

  Sally looked up, somewhat surprised at Anna’s response. She had noticed the lawyer who was supposed to be keeping her husband out of jail and financial ruin had been having no trouble emptying her wine glass all evening. Alex had been pouring rather heavily for everyone and she noticed he was also a little over the edge of intoxication, but she realized he probably needed to forget about his problems for a few hours. “Just decaf coffee for me now, honey,” she said.

  The server brought a dessert tray out that included several pies made fresh down in Traverse City, a chocolate cake and assorted pastries. They each made their selections and the server went back into the galley to prepare the plates.

  Anna looked over at Alex and spoke slowly to avoid slurring her words. “This was a marvelous dinner, Alex. Thank you for including me.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Alex replied.

  “Where are we cruising tonight, by the way?” Anna asked.

  “Just a few miles down Lake Charlevoix and then back,” Alex said.

  “We really should have dessert brought up on deck.” Sally said. “It’s such a beautiful night.”

  “Great idea,” said Alex. He went back into the galley to give the instructions.

  Anna couldn’t stop herself with the short moment alone with Sally Clark. “Sally, do you know you are one of the luckiest women in the world?”

  Sally’s defenses went up. The question seemed so out of place. “Luckiest?”

  “You’re practically living like a princess,” Anna said.

  “A princess?”

  “And then to have Alex Clark,” she stopped, her brain finally pushing through the fog of the wine to realize what she was saying.

  Sally was shocked by the outburst and didn’t know what to say.

  “Sally, I’m sorry, it’s just that…”

  “Just what…?” Sally demanded.

  Anna reached for her wine glass and finished the small amount left in the bottom. “Well…”

  Alex walked b
ack into the cabin. “Everyone ready?” He looked at the strange expression on both women’s face. “Did I miss something interesting?” he asked.

  Sally and Anna looked back from Alex. They both stared at each other for a moment and then Sally said, “Yes Anna, what were you saying?”

  “I think I’ve said enough.”

  Dylan Harris walked along the waterline on the shore, the wet sand soft and leaving deep footprints behind him. He had a cell phone to his ear with one hand and a cigar burning in the other. The last light of day was fading through the tall trees and the big bullfrogs in the marshes were the only sounds in the quiet bay. He had the strong facial features of his father, Connor, in his youth; full sandy brown eyebrows and long straight brown hair edged in gray and brushed straight back.

  “I need those revised site plans up here tomorrow,” Harris demanded. “I don’t care if you have to get on a plane yourself and bring them to my front door for breakfast, but I need them tomorrow!”

  He continued to walk as he listened to the response on the other end of the line.

  “I’m through listening to excuses, damn it! Get it done!”

  He slapped the disconnect button on the phone and then stuffed it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

  Megan had agreed to meet Will Truegood at ten o’clock out on the south pier by the lighthouse on Lake Michigan. Will had suggested it was probably better they not be seen together in town any more than necessary until this car theft situation had been worked out. As Megan walked out along the broad expanse of the steel and concrete structure, she passed fishermen sitting patiently on chairs watching their poles lean against the metal rail, lovers walking arm in arm and a few random teens on skateboards. The sun had dropped below the far horizon across the lake, but the sky was lit up in bright reds and blues against the scattered shapes of clouds.

  The light on top of the lighthouse turned slowly, covering all points on the compass, a beacon to travelers for countless years for safe passage into Round Lake and the little town of Charlevoix. When she came around the big red structure of the lighthouse, she saw Will leaning against the rail at the end of the pier, watching the sunset sky fade into another night. He didn’t seem to notice her come up next to him.

  “Lost in thought?” she said.

  He looked up, startled and smiled when he saw her. “I was just thinking of the words of my people my father and grandfather shared with me as a kid.”

  “What was that?”

  “It’s about looking to the sun and the moon and the sky everyday and knowing the Creator is watching down on us.”

  Megan joined him in looking out at the spectacular fading sky display. “Only a God in heaven could create something so beautiful,” she said. When she turned back, he was staring at her. “What?” she asked quietly.

  “Something so beautiful?” he said, looking directly into her eyes.

  “The sky, Will.”

  A smile slowly came across his face, “Right, the sky.”

  Megan was a little flustered at his not so transparent flirting. “I had a conversation with my friend Melissa about her car last night,” she said, changing the subject.

  Will seemed to come back to the moment and the smile faded. “Melissa… what did she have to say?”

  “She claims her car was taken from her driveway when she left the key in the ignition.”

  “Who leaves their keys in their car anymore?” he said.

  “Exactly, and it’s just too coincidental a friend of mine would have her car stolen and end up in your driveway.”

  “What’s going on here?” Will asked.

  “I’m really not sure,” Megan said, “but I have someone else I need to talk to.”

  “Who’s that?” Will asked.

  Megan leaned her back against the rail and looked back down the channel to the big blue drawbridge. “Just a friend.”

  “Megan, thanks,” he said. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but the cops don’t seem too interested in helping me find out.”

  Megan shook her head and sighed.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I should probably make a couple of calls before it gets any later. Where are you staying tonight?”

  “I have to get back out to the cabin, but my truck is still out there.”

  “I can give you a ride,” Megan offered. “I need to go up to the house to get the Jeep. I’ll meet you downtown.”

  “How about the coffee shop? I’ll get us something to drink.”

  They walked back down the pier together and when they got to the bridge, Megan headed up the hill to get her car. Will turned to go down to the coffee shop.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said and waved to him.

  As she walked across the bridge, she took the cell phone out of her purse and pressed a number in her contact list. The phone rang four times before the answering mailbox came on. She listened to the recorded message. “Hello this is Rick. Sorry I missed your call. Leave your number and I’ll call you back.” She waited for the beep and then answered, “Rick, it’s Megan. I really need to talk to you tonight. Call me.”

  Looking up, she nearly ran into Gwen Roberts, Sally’s old partner in the gallery down on Bridge Street.

  “Megan, is that you?” Gwen asked.

  “Hi Gwen, I’m sorry I didn’t see you. How are you?” She gave Gwen a hug and then stepped back.

  “I don’t think you’ve met my new partner,” Gwen said. “Megan, this is Tara Peterson.”

  Tara stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hi Megan, it’s really nice to meet you. I had a chance to see Sally the other day and Gwen has told me so much about your family and the EmmaLee.”

  “Hi Tara,” Megan said, returning her greeting and handshake.

  We’re just coming back from dinner at the Weathervane,” Gwen said. “We really need to get together with you and your folks, Megan.”

  “Oh, I know Sally and Dad would love to” Megan said. “Maybe we can all take a little dinner trip on the EmmaLee. Let me check how long my dad is going to be up here. I’m not sure when he has to get back to New York, but Sally and I plan to be up for most of the summer.”

  “That’s what Sally said the other day,” said Gwen. “That’s great, just call when you have a chance to check with them. And stop down to the gallery when you get some time. We would love to show you some of the new work we have in this summer.”

  “Okay, great, I’ll have Sally get back in touch and Tara, it was really nice to meet you.”

  They said their good-byes and the two women passed on the bridge and continued on into town. Megan watched them go for a moment and thought back to the first summer she had met Gwen here in Charlevoix. She knew how close Sally and Gwen had been. It would be nice to get everyone together again, she thought.

  The EmmaLee had dropped anchor back in the small harbor of Round Lake. Alex and Sally decided to stay on the ship for the night. They both were sitting on lounge chairs on the rear deck of the boat. Anna had excused herself earlier after several cups of coffee to go to bed. She hadn’t said anything else to Sally about her earlier comments on her relationship with Alex Clark.

  Sally, however, had been unable to think of little else. She knew Anna had certainly had too much to drink, but that really didn’t excuse the emotions or intent behind her remarks.

  “What a beautiful sky,” Alex said, looking up at the stars above them.

  Sally looked over at her husband, considering whether she should say anything about Anna, or not. Doesn’t he have enough to worry about?

  “Sally?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, what did you say?”

  “Look at this sky,” he said again, reaching for her hand.

  Sally looked up at the clear black sky and the brilliant display of a million shining stars and constellations. “It’s gorgeous,” she said.

  “We should get some blankets and just sleep out here under the stars tonight.”
Alex said.

  Sally laughed and said, “I thought it was only Anna who had a few too many glasses of wine tonight. I’m not sleeping out here! It gets cold up here at night.”

  “I know, but still…”

  “Alex…”

  “I’m just kidding,” he said. “Anna did get a little wasted tonight, didn’t she?”

  “A little?”

  “That’s really not like her. I don’t know what was going on,” Alex said.

  “I know she’s working hard for you and the whole situation is more than a little stressful," Sally said, “but I don’t think getting drunk is going to help.”

  “It’s really just not like her.”

  Sally decided to be honest with him about what happened earlier. “You’ve known Anna for a long time, haven’t you?” she asked.

  Alex squeezed Sally’s hand more tightly and turned in his chair to face her. “Just professionally, dear, nothing more.”

  Sally sat there for a few moments looking at her husband. “You may already know this, but Anna Bataglia seems to have more than just a professional interest in you.”

  Alex choked before he tried to speak. “What are you talking about?”

  “When you stepped into the galley tonight, Anna started in on how lucky I was to have you and how I’m so fortunate to live like a princess and…”

  “Oh Sally, come on. She just had a little too much to drink.”

  “Whatever, Alex, I’m just telling you women have a sixth sense about these things and I can tell you your lawyer has the hots for you.”

  Megan pulled into the dark wooded drive leading back to Will’s cabin. He sat next to her in the dark giving directions.

  “How did you ever find this place?” she asked.

  “It’s been passed down through the family. My grandfather built the original cabin years ago.” The cabin came into sight up ahead in the car headlights.

  “Will, this is so cool back in here.”

  “Yeah, Horton Creek is just out behind there.”

  She stopped the car and put the transmission in Park. “Will, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m not sure, but you remember meeting my friend, Rick, down at the boat.”