by Cate Conte
“I’m looking for Carl.”
“Who?” I asked, confused.
“Haven’t seen him,” Grandpa said.
Ellory kept his eyes on Grandpa. Grandpa’s gaze never wavered. The two grown men were, essentially, engaged in a staring contest.
“He hasn’t been around tonight?” Ellory asked.
“I just got home a few minutes ago. Why are you looking here?” Grandpa asked.
I watched them both, my eyes darting back and forth between them like I was following a particularly intense Ping-Pong game. Clearly, Grandpa knew exactly who Ellory was talking about, and I was dying to know. I racked my brain for any memory of a Carl on the island, but nothing was coming to me.
Ellory shrugged. “Just a hunch.” He shifted on his feet, and I saw Craig coming up the porch steps behind him. He saw me and nodded. I gave him a questioning look. He looked away.
“Well, you’re outta luck.” Grandpa smiled. “But if I see him, I’ll tell him you were looking for him.”
“Who is Carl?” I persisted, not one to enjoy being ignored.
“Can we have a word?” Ellory asked Grandpa. “In private?”
Grandpa’s classic impatient stance—head cocked, bushy white eyebrows up—kicked in. “What about?”
Ellory didn’t answer, but his raised eyebrows said, Clearly, you should be able to figure that out.
Grandpa sighed. “I’ll have to get my coat and come outside. The young people are trying to have a quiet evening. One minute.”
He left the door open. Ellory apparently took that as an unspoken invitation to come in. He stepped inside. After a moment’s hesitation, Craig followed. He made it a point to let his gaze linger on Lucas on the couch before he glanced away, shutting the door behind him. They both stood there waiting. Like they were about to escort someone out of the house. And not to a party.
Grandpa returned a minute later, zipping his parka. “Let’s go.”
They headed outside, Craig trailing slightly behind, leaving Lucas and me staring after them. Craig closed the door firmly after he’d stepped out onto the porch.
“That’s gotta be about the guy in the water,” I said to Lucas, itching to try to eavesdrop. I cursed the weather for making it too cold to open the window.
“But why did they come here? And who’s Carl?”
“No idea,” I said. “I feel like we fell down some crazy rabbit hole tonight. And I should’ve asked about the guy in the water.” I pulled the curtain back from the window, trying to see out. Not that it would matter. I couldn’t hear what they were saying anyway.
“Right. Because I’m sure they would’ve told you everything,” Lucas said.
I crossed my arms and glared at him. “My sarcasm is rubbing off on you. And I’m really not loving it.”
Chapter 9
It took Grandpa Leo forever to come back inside. At least it seemed that way. In reality, it was only about ten minutes, during which time Lucas and I tried to focus on the movie he’d picked. But nothing, not even Melissa McCarthy, seemed funny and I couldn’t stop wondering what was going on now. When Grandpa did return, he didn’t look happy.
I pounced, not even giving him a chance to unzip his coat. “What’s going on?” I demanded. “Who is Carl?”
Lucas paused the movie and sat forward, just as interested in this as I was.
Grandpa gave me a long look. “You really don’t know?”
“Of course I don’t know. I wouldn’t ask if I knew. Lucas doesn’t know, either.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s been on the island for five minutes,” Grandpa said. “No offense, son,” he added, glancing in Lucas’s direction.
“None taken,” Lucas said with a wave of his hand.
“I was born here and I have no idea,” I said.
“It’s not meant to be spread widely. That goes for both of you.” He waited until we both nodded. Even Lucas looked interested now. “Although I am surprised that you don’t know, Maddie. You’re usually good at solving puzzles. You know him by his preferred nickname. Leopard Man. And he’d like to keep it that way,” Grandpa added. “He doesn’t like to use his name.”
“Leopard Man?” I was stunned. “Carl is Leopard Man? How can that be?” The rational part of me knew he had to have a name. A real name, not just the name the island had dubbed him with as a nod to his eccentric choice of clothing. He’d embraced the name Leopard Man and even used it to introduce himself, but of course that couldn’t be the name on his birth certificate. But Carl was … such a normal name. How could he just be Carl? A guy named Carl doesn’t wear leopard-print boots and a tail. A guy named Carl wears a suit and tie and sits in an office and does accounting or insurance or some other boring job, then goes home to his boring suburban house with his perfectly lovely, boring wife and has a boring dinner.
But now that I knew who Carl was, I had bigger things to worry about than the blandness of the name.
“Wait,” I said slowly. “First of all, he is here. Unless Scotty beamed him up in the last half hour, or he tunneled out of the basement. Why’d you tell them he wasn’t?”
Grandpa didn’t answer.
I searched his face for some kind of clue, but he wasn’t giving anything away. “Is he still here?”
“He is,” Grandpa said. “And that stays in this room also.”
“Grandpa. What is going on?” I demanded. “Is he in trouble? Does it have to do with whatever is going on down at the marina?”
“Doll, trust me. This is one of those times when you don’t need to get involved,” he said. “Please don’t worry about it. Leopard Man is still Leopard Man. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He’s also apparently in hiding,” I muttered.
Grandpa gave me a look. “Madalyn. Leave it alone,” he warned.
He turned to head back downstairs, but I stopped him. “Well, then, what’s his last name?”
Grandpa looked back at me quizzically.
“Come on, Grandpa. If he has a real first name, he has to have a real last name, too,” I said.
Grandpa smiled a little. “Think of him like Beyoncé,” he said. Then he disappeared back into the basement.
I watched him go, then turned to Lucas in disbelief. “Beyoncé? How does my grandfather know Beyoncé?”
Lucas laughed. “You’d have to be dead not to know Beyoncé,” he said. “But you’re right. That’s weird. That he has a name. I mean, I know he kind of has to, but…” he trailed off.
“I know exactly what you mean,” I said. “I’ve only known him as Leopard Man since I was, like, five.”
“Yeah.” His face settled into its troubled look, when the spot between his eyebrows crinkled into frown lines and he chewed on his top lip. I knew he was replaying the moment when Leopard Man stepped out of the shadows of the ferry lot and scared us half to death. The ferry lot wasn’t far from the marina where the “guy in the water” had been taking up the police force’s evening.
“You don’t think—” he began, but I cut him off.
“No,” I said firmly. “If Grandpa says there’s a reasonable explanation for all this, then there’s a reasonable explanation. Let’s watch the movie.” I sat down on the couch next to him again and put his arm back around my shoulders. We both pretended to watch the on-screen antics, but neither of us was really in a laughing mood.
Chapter 10
Despite his newfound love for sarcasm, I was happy Lucas was staying over. The events of the day had left me on alert. So much so that I couldn’t sleep, no matter how many guided meditations I played in my earbuds. Lucas and JJ weren’t having the same issues. JJ was curled up on the pillow above my head, his tail resting over his eyes. Lucas snored, just a little.
We seemed to spend more time here at Grandpa’s full house, even though Lucas was the one who lived alone. He had a little cottage that he rented on the harbor, and he’d saved money by renting the place for a year and convincing the landlord to average out the crazy r
ent she charged in the summer months with the super low winter payments. All told, it came to something that resembled reasonable. Yet he spent most of his time over at our place, since I felt guilty leaving Ethan and Grandpa to fend for themselves with the cats and the construction. The cats were a lot of work, and even with Adele pitching in most days, there was a lot of cleaning to do. And not a lot of volunteers, unfortunately.
Luckily, Lucas was understanding. Truth be told, I think he liked hanging out with us. We were crazy, but we were tight. And he seemed to like that.
By the time we’d finally gone to bed around midnight, neither Grandpa nor Leopard Man had emerged from the basement. I hadn’t seen any updates to the news on the guy in the water no matter how many times I’d refreshed the Chronicle website, and the whole thing was making my imagination run wild.
I hated when I couldn’t sleep. And I hated not knowing what was going on in my town. Most of all, I hated when Grandpa kept secrets from me. We were a team. Always had been, but that bond had strengthened since I’d returned to the island. When I’d come home this past summer, I’d discovered Grandpa was close to losing his house. We’d put our heads together and powered through it, and, dare I say, we’d emerged more than victorious. Not just on that occasion, either. I’d definitely picked up some of his investigative and problem-solving skills.
But he was still a cop at heart, and a good cop played his cards close to his chest until it was time to reveal them. So that’s what he would do. Even if it meant keeping those cards out of his granddaughter’s sight.
This train of thought wasn’t helping me sleep. I eased my way out from under Lucas’s arm and slid out of bed. Maybe some tea would help. Ethan had just picked up some lemon balm tea, which he swore was amazing for you. I’d tried it once and it had tasted kind of blah, but maybe if I loaded it up with honey it would be better.
I grabbed my iPad and headed downstairs, turning on lights as I went. I poked my head into the cats’ room, earning some blinky-eyed stares from all the cats who’d been sound asleep. “Sorry, guys,” I said softly. “Just checking in.”
I closed the door behind me and headed to the kitchen, where I put water on and took out the honey. As I waited for the water to boil, I fired up my iPad and went to the Chronicle site again. All they had was a short blurb about the man in the water, last updated at 9:15 p.m. Police had been called to the marina around 7:00 p.m. due to reports of someone in the water down by the marina, medics were on the scene, no further information. I guess Becky hadn’t been successful in prying more out of the cops yet, either. I wondered if the police even had anything more so early on or if the person hadn’t been identified yet.
With a sigh, I flipped the cover shut on my iPad and went to make my tea as the kettle began to whistle.
As I pulled it off the stove and the shrill sound faded, I heard footsteps outside the kitchen door. Grandpa? He was up late.
I put the kettle down and poked my head into the living room. And froze when I saw Leopard Man walking slowly from the direction of the basement, holding his leopard hat and heavy leopard-print boots in his hand so as not to make noise, to get to the side porch, which would let him out into the yard instead of onto the street. My eyes traveled to his feet. His socks were, to my disappointment, plain black. Like the kind of socks someone named Carl would wear.
He heard the kitchen door swing open and froze, then slowly turned to look at me.
We both stared at each other. Finally, he cleared his throat and nodded at me. “Madalyn.”
“Hi,” I said. “Are you … leaving?”
He nodded.
“Oh,” I said. “It’s late. And cold out.”
He smiled, a little. “I have a warm coat.”
“I guess you do,” I said.
He didn’t seem to know what else to say, either. We both just looked at each other for a few minutes, then he turned to go. I decided not to ask why he wasn’t using the front door. I assumed it had to do with our earlier visit from Daybreak’s finest. I wasn’t sure what hiding from them tonight accomplished. This was a small island—he could only hide for so long. Especially in those outfits.
“Hey. Do you want some tea first?” I blurted out, just as he reached for the door. I had no idea what made me offer tea right now, but maybe he’d take me up on it. Maybe he’d come sit and tell me all about how he went from being someone named Carl to someone who called himself Leopard Man, spoke in Shakespearean, and attached a tail to his pants. And why tonight he was more of a Carl than a Leopard Man. I’d noticed earlier he wasn’t wearing his tail.
He paused, as if considering the idea, then turned back to me with a small smile. “‘I would give all my fame for a pot of ale,’” he murmured softly.
I smiled a little. I didn’t know all the plays, but I liked hearing the words come out of his mouth. It made me feel a bit better. “I can find you some beer,” I said. “I’m sure Grandpa has some.”
He held up a hand. “Thank you. Tea would actually be lovely.”
“Okay then.” I motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen.
After a moment’s hesitation, he set his boots and coat down and obliged.
I got an extra mug out and held up two choices—Ethan’s lemon balm and a basic chamomile. He pondered for a second, then chose the lemon balm.
“Ethan would say that’s a good choice,” I said, plucking out the tea bag and plopping it into the mug.
Leopard Man smiled. “The hippie,” he said with a wink.
I smiled. “That’s really what everyone calls him, huh.”
“Most people,” Leopard Man agreed. “But it’s said with no malice.”
“Well, that’s good.” I set his mug down and searched through the cabinets for a snack. The best I could come up with was Ethan’s gluten-free coconut cookies. I held the box up, a question.
Leopard Man took this question seriously also. “If you indulge, I’ll join you,” he said.
I didn’t need an excuse. I put the box on the table and sat across from him, spooning a generous amount of honey into my cup. I took a sip and burned my tongue.
Cursing, I put the mug down.
He grinned. “‘How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?’”
“Yeah, it’s always been my downfall.” I grabbed a cookie and watched him prepare his own tea. He carefully measured out about half a spoonful of honey, stirred it meticulously, then lifted the tea bag with his spoon and pressed the rest of the flavor out. Twining the string around it, he carefully set it aside on his napkin, gave the liquid another stir, then set the spoon aside.
Raising his mug, he lifted it in my general direction as if toasting me, then took a sip, smacking his lips together. “It should be cooler now.”
I was kind of fascinated watching him. We hadn’t really hung out like this, ever. I know Grandpa shared coffee and conversation with him regularly, but I was more likely to either bump into him on the street or encounter him here in the cafe, usually when I was busy working. Our interactions, while always pleasant, were usually short.
Jasmine, the kitty who’d cuddled with Jason Holt, sauntered into the room and went straight for his lap, as if he’d sent out a telekinetic cat call. I had to smile when she lifted her face and nuzzled his chin, where a short scruff grew.
I’d never been quite sure how old Leopard Man was, but up close and personal, without his leopard hat and other loud clothing, I could see he was probably older than I’d thought. Not quite Grandpa’s age, but older than my dad. His blond hair was streaked with gray, and he had fine lines around his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Are you okay?” I blurted out, without even really thinking about it.
He didn’t react, just took another slow sip of his tea while he observed me over the rim of his mug. “Why do you ask?”
I didn’t want to say, Because the police were looking for you and you were hiding in my basement, so I shrugged, self-
conscious now. “I don’t know. Because you’re here late and I saw you talking to that woman before.” That last part I hadn’t expected to say, but now I leaned forward, desperate to know. “Who is she? Do you know her? Did she tell you about JJ and her crazy theory?” It all came out in a whoosh.
But Leopard Man remained unfazed. He took a cookie out of the box and ate it before he responded. “I am fine, thank you for asking, Madalyn. That’s really all I can tell you.”
I bit my lip in frustration. “But you knew something had upset me today. How did you know?” I pressed.
“‘The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together,’” he murmured.
I wasn’t sure if he was even speaking to me, since he was staring at his tea. Plus, that didn’t tell me much other than I should’ve paid more attention in my college lit classes because I didn’t know what that was from, either. Why wouldn’t he tell me what he knew about her?
“I hope you know,” he said finally, slowly, “that your family means the world to me.” His eyes were locked on mine, and I noticed, not for the first time, that they were catlike, with sparks of yellow and green accentuating the light brown. “Now. It’s late. I should go. I hope you are able to sleep after your tea. I’m sorry for disturbing your evening.”
And with that, he drained his mug, set it on the table, and left the kitchen. I followed him to the door of the kitchen and watched as he slipped out the door, almost noiselessly. I moved to the window overlooking the backyard, but the moon hid behind the heavy fog and I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anything.
Almost like he’d never been here at all.
Chapter 11
The lemon balm tea did finally put me to sleep, after a lot of tossing and turning trying to decipher Leopard Man’s last comment. When I woke early the next morning, the fog had lifted from the island, although it was still cloudy and dreary outside. From the motion of the trees outside my window I could tell the wind had picked up, and I could see the first drops of rain on the glass. The ocean’s choppy gray waves looked cold, at least for a West Coast replant. The storm they were forecasting was really on its way.
