Lewis & Ondarko - Best Friends 03 - Now and Zen

by Deb Lewis

  “Say, Pat, before you go,” Lotta said, catching them before they reached the door. “Did either of you leave this?” She held up a jacket. “It was left either last night or this morning, but with so many on the island… “

  Pat looked at the designer jean jacket.

  “Not me. Did you check the pockets?”

  “Just quickly. I was too busy to do more.”

  Pat took the jacket.

  “No, nothing in these pockets.” She reached inside on the right side. “Nope, nothing here.” She felt around one last time. “Wait a minute. Something is scrunched down in here. There, I’ve got it.” Pulling out a torn slip from a waitress’ order pad, she spread it on the table and quickly scanned it.

  “No, no name, sorry.” She looked closer at the note. “But this woman sounds like she’s got a problem.”

  “Read it,” Lotta and Bev said together.

  “Okay.” She read:

  Sorry to leave you in a mess. That damn shit has just gone too far. Sure he’s cute, but he threatened me because I was late after work last night. He even tried to push me down. Can you believe it? Happened to my mom; will never happen to me.

  Will call soon. Love yah, girlfriend.

  “There’s no signature.”

  The women were quiet for a moment.

  “Well, we can’t find her from this. Sorry,” Pat said.

  “No worries. I’ll just put it up on the message board,” Lotta said.

  “Message board? Since when has the island had a message board?”

  “Us? Honey, we all know each other’s business here. Small island, remember? No, this is the message board for your retreat. Linda put it up. “Better catch up, oh great leader,” Lotta teased. “They’re charging past you.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?”

  At that moment, Deb walked through the door into the crowded room.

  “You should see what’s happening out on the street!”

  “Don’t tell us. After my Tarot reading, I can’t take any more,” Pat joked.

  “There’s something I wanted to talk to you two about,” Lotta said, hesitatingly.

  “What is it?” Deb asked, noticing the tightness in Lotta’s face.

  “I’m not sure this is the right time. There’s too much commotion now and I have to get working on lunch. Remind me later, okay?”

  “Sure,” Deb replied, making a mental note.

  As Lotta walked to the kitchen, Deb and Pat joined Bev at the table.

  “You really should see outside,” Deb urged. “Someone put up a soapbox on the street with a sign that says, ‘If you have something to say, say it here.’ There’s a line of women waiting to speak. Uh, oh,” Deb whispered a few minutes later. “Here comes trouble.”

  Pat looked up and saw the all too familiar form of the handsome detective from Ashland County walk past the front window.

  “Duck!” Deb whispered.

  Before the women could duck, the door opened on a smiling Detective Gary LeSeur, who stood silently taking in the crowded noisy scene.

  Dressed in jeans and tennis shoes, he wore a fishing vest and Brewers baseball cap. With laser-like focus, his flashing brown eyes met Deb’s gaze and held it.

  “Busted,” Deb whispered.

  With a nod of his head, he gestured toward the door.

  “Excuse me,” Deb said in a nonchalant voice. “I’ll be right back.”

  Deb walked slowly toward the door as if summoned to the principal’s office and into the presence of the law.

  Deb and Pat had crossed paths with him on previous occasions when they had been involved in solving the mysteries behind two deaths.

  Gary knelt just outside the door, petting a golden lab. The dog had been lying patiently in the sun just outside the door to the Cafe.

  “Hi, Gary!” Deb said, trying her best to be cheerful. The dog stood immediately upon seeing Deb and wagged her tail so exuberantly against her that Deb almost lost her balance.

  “Is that your dog?” LeSeur asked.

  “No. She’s just a stray that showed up at our cabin last night. We thought she was a bear in the dark… “

  Damn. Why did I say that?

  Gary stood up, as his perceptive gaze pierced through Deb’s facade.

  “So, what is this whole scene, anyway?” he asked, gesturing with his hands to the crowded dining room on the other side of the screen door.

  “Just a little gathering that Pat and I tried to put together for summer solstice.”

  “You women don’t do anything small, do you?”

  “What are you doing here?” Deb asked reflexively.

  “To be honest with you, this is the last place I would choose to be on a fine summer day as this… There I was, ready to get out on the big lake with my favorite fishing guide. My wife was gone to some women’s retreat. Some girls-only event on the island. The weather was perfect. Things were quiet at the office and I took two days of vacation to try to catch up on my fishing. We no sooner got out and set anchor when I got a text message to call the office immediately. Something about a missing woman on the ferry.

  “After talking to Mike and the crew, I thought I would just go to the eye of the hurricane and find out what you know. After all, you two started this whole mess by bringing all these women out here. And you always seem to be in the middle of things. So, tell me what you know.”

  “I really don’t know much and what I know is secondhand,” Deb replied reluctantly. “Really, I just know what you know… that the ferry people have some vague suspicions because of ‘their counts’ being wrong or something like that. Not a lot to go on.”

  “Well, let’s get down to brass tacks then,” Gary said. “Did anyone sign up for your ‘retreat’ and then not show up?”

  “I couldn’t answer that,” Deb replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we didn’t ask for signups. We didn’t collect deposits or anything. This was supposed to be a small informal gathering. And then way more people came than we expected and the YouTube and all that we didn’t expect,” Deb rambled.

  Like the fisherman he was, Gary threw another line.

  “Did you have any speakers on your agenda that haven’t shown their pretty faces out here yet?”

  “Not that I know of,” Deb replied. “Really, this was just supposed to be a simple, quiet getaway. But it’s turned into something… “

  LeSeur realized quickly that he wasn’t going to catch any information from Deb and began to set his hook.

  “Okay, Deb. I see you know nothing. But I also know how good you and Pat are at getting to the bottom of things. I need your help.”

  Hearing his words, Deb was momentarily speechless.

  “You need our help? Mine and Pat’s? Pat! Come out here!” Deb yelled into the crowded restaurant. “Gary needs our help!”

  Pat walked briskly out into the sunlight with a confused expression on her face.

  “Hi, Gary,” Pat said. “What’s happening?”

  “He said he needs our help,” Deb repeated.

  Gary nodded his head.

  “That’s a strange turn, coming from you. What on earth do you want from us?” Pat asked.

  “This place is so chaotic. I need you to ask around and talk to people who were on the ferry coming over yesterday when the incident happened.”

  “Incident? You call that an incident when someone is potentially dead?” Pat replied.

  “Shh, Pat. He’s only doing his job,” Deb said. “Every investigation starts with an incident and an incident report, right Gary?”

  Gary’s face reddened as he chose to ignore the comment.

  I will not respond to these crazies in kind, I am better than that, he thought.

  “There’s no way we have the resources to talk to every one of these women,” he said. “I need you to winnow out the ones who may have any information at all. Remember, its first-hand information I want, not gossip.”

  “We can try,” Pat said
. “Just leave it to us.”

  Shaking his head, Gary handed his business card to Deb.

  “Here’s my cell number. Make me a list of names and contact numbers and get back to me as soon as possible.”

  “Aye, aye, captain!” Pat replied in mock salute.

  As Gary strolled away towards his waiting fishing boat, Deb turned to Pat.

  “Can you believe he asked us for help this time?”

  “Can you believe we would agree to help?” Pat answered.

  “There’s just one thing I wanted to tell you.”

  “What?”

  “Remember that woman we met on the ferry when we were coming over before the retreat started?

  Pat paused. “You mean Windcatcher?”

  “No, the one who helped me up when I fell.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s been sort of haunting me.”

  “Oh, Deb, you have a too rich imagination.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe not.”

  “Well, if it worries you, you can always tell Gary about her.”

  “I probably will.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  June 21

  Pat walked back to the cabin to change her shirt, as the dog followed her.

  “I’m staying behind to set up the writing workshop,” Deb called. “Remember, we have to lead it today.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right down,” Pat said louder than necessary into the phone a few minutes later as she entered the door.

  Remember what Swami Ji, the Yoga master, said she told herself as she hung up the phone. Breathe. Just breathe. In with the calm clear air, out with the… what the hell is happening down at the self defense class? It sounds like all hell has broken loose. It’s a damn good thing I didn’t put out a glass jar to put a dollar in every time I’ve sworn, or I’d be broke before the day is over.

  “Oops I did it again. I’m outta here!” she yelled to no one in particular. “The gods of chaos are laughing today, that’s for sure.”

  Slipping into her new tennis shoes, she ran out the door leaving a confused dog alone in the cabin. The dog popped her head up from the couch where she was catching a snooze.

  She huffed out the fine hairs around her muzzle as if in a laugh. “Humans! Who can figure them out?” she seemed to be saying in dog language as she laid her head back down and settled in for a nice long nap.

  Pat climbed onto the golf cart that Julie had managed to place in the driveway for her, and went bumping down the street. Along the way, she met Bev sitting outdoors under a colorful Thai umbrella at the station she was assigned on Bell Street. Her electric scooter was festooned with ribbons flying in the breeze. Pat waved at Bev who was doing a reading for another woman seated in front of her.

  Waving back gaily, Bev turned her attention to the business at hand. The other woman’s worried face made Pat hope Bev was remembering the first rule of good card reading. Never scare the pants off your client. She noticed that Bev, in spite of all the work, looked ten years younger.

  “Wow that line is getting long!” Pat called out, noticing women waiting patiently for a turn. Immediately, she regretted her words. But, instead of looking worried or tense, Bev looked energized.

  “Yeah, isn’t it great? Bev called back. She turned back to the woman in front of her.

  “This card may look bad, but it really is a good card for change,” she said.

  Pat flew by the crowd and continued on her way.

  I can’t believe a person sometimes has to face their own mortality before they can begin really living.

  She slowed for a gaggle of older women crossing the road to go into the Mission Hill Coffee Shop when she heard a familiar voice ahead and off to the right.

  “That’s right ladies, take your can or your water bottle, whatever you have, and just dip it right into the lake there. What could be better than to have a watercolor painting with a bit of the big lake right in it?” Noreen called out.

  Dutifully, about seventy-five women walked into the icy cold water, giggling and gasping. They dipped their hands in the lake to get water, which to Pat, resembled a massive baptism scene. Pat drove on.

  That Noreen. How like her to make a simple act of getting ready to paint into an almost spiritual event. Every time those women from all over the world look at the painting they created, they’ll remember the big lake.

  Nearing a beach along the way, she slowed down.

  What a pretty sight, Pat thought, as a tiny girl, her innocent face lit with joy, stepped onto the sand, putting a cautious toe into the chilly water. Instead of wearing a bathing suit, she had on a bright yellow dress that danced in the breeze. Her toe nails were painted different colors.

  “Why all the colors? Couldn’t you pick?” Pat called out, drawn by the child’s innocence and hoping to make contact.

  Turning slowly, the child looked seriously first at her toes and then at Pat. To her surprise and delight, Pat realized it was Gracie, Deb’s granddaughter.

  “No, it’s because I like all the colors so I used them all.” She laughed as she ran up to Pat. “Don’t you just love them?” she asked. She was already both sure of the answer and sure of herself.

  “Yes, I do. Did you come with someone?”

  “Of course, silly.” She laughed again. “I’m just a child!” “There’s Mommy over there,” she pointed. “We came to your party to pray.” She shifted from one foot to the other as if eager to dance.

  “To pray? What for? Do you want a puppy, or a surprise?”

  “Oh, no, for goodness sake.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I heard about it from some girls who live here and Mommy says we can do it, too.”

  “The children told you they pray?” Pat asked with interest.

  “Yes, and they invited me back next year.” She came closer and whispered, as if to share a secret. “We pray her back.”

  “Back?” Pat frowned. “Did someone go somewhere?” Startled, she thought of the missing woman.

  “Must have, don’t know. But she has a nice name. Want to hear it?”

  “Sure. If it’s okay for you to tell me.”

  “It’s Hope. Isn’t that pretty?” She tapped her little foot as if Pat were a bit slow.

  “So. How do you pray? Is it like on your knees or do you read it out of a book?”

  This time her laughter was like little bells on the wind. “You know.”

  “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten a long time ago. Remind me,” Pat encouraged.

  “You sing it, or dance it, or just laugh it out loud.” She stared sympathetically into Pat’s eyes. “Just try. Even old people can remember how.”

  Thanks a lot, Pat thought. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Well, I think… nobody told me, but I think it works better in a bunch. Together.”

  “Together?” Where two or more are gathered, she thought.

  “You can do it alone, but hope works better together because when you’re bad, you want to be alone and hide, right? But when you’re good… “

  “You want to share it?”

  “Right.” She ran off to play with the lake.

  Pat felt much better. I wonder who this Hope is that she was talking about. Or is it hope they pray for? Putting her thoughts aside she continued on her way.

  Stepping on the pedal, Pat raced past St. John’s church and then slowed for the large crowd ahead of her.

  It must be the crazy full moon or something, she thought, surveying the scene. Driving into the agitated crowd, Pat stopped and jumped off the cart, as one woman helped another one up off the ground.

  “You said I should show you how it was done,” the standing woman said to one on the ground.

  “Right, like I meant throw me half way across the island?” the now standing woman huffed as she dusted herself off.

  “Ladies, ladies. What the heck is the matter? And where is your instructor?” She had better not have panicked and run away is all I can
say or she’ll owe me a tall one when this is over. Sure she can handle thieves and a wife abuser, but a crowd of women learning self-defense? How much could you ask of a policewoman?

  “Oh,” said one tiny grey-haired woman helpfully. “She had to take a young girl to the Doc.”

  “To the Doc? What happened?” Pat turned to the two women in the center of the crowd. “Did one of you hurt her?” she asked with her hand placed accusingly on her hips. Goddess, she thought exasperatingly, what is this world coming to?

  “Us? No! How could you even think that?” they said together, united in the face of Pat’s anger. “No, this girl came by on her bike and fell and hurt her knee. Our teacher asked us to keep things going till you got here.”

  Oh, great, Pat thought. “Did she give you any other instructions?”

  “Just like not to kill each other, or break anything,” someone said with a giggle. “She said the Doc was busy enough with the pregnant woman.”

  “Pregnant woman?!” Pat asked incredulously. Then she let out a heavy sigh. “Never mind. I don’t actually want to know. Anyone know about self-defense here?”

  There was silence except for the sound of the waves. Hesitantly, a woman of about eighty-five raised her hand part way up.

  “You are in charge,” Pat said as she pointed at the woman. “Show them some moves and whatever you do… “

  “Don’t kill each other or break anything,” several women called out. Everyone laughed.

  Getting back on her cart, Pat tooted her little electric horn cheerily at the women.

  “Now count off in twos and stand like this facing each other,” she overheard a surprisingly vigorous voice say.

  The last thing Pat saw in her rearview mirror as she drove away was the image of the tiny woman soundly throwing her hapless partner onto the ground.

  * * *

  Wow, the marina is full today, Pat thought, as she drove down the dirt road toward Coole Park. Some of the women must have sailed over. I might as well check in on the croquet tournament as long as I’m down here. It’ll be great to see at least one thing happening as it’s supposed to.

  “Hey, Pat,” a voice called from the woods to her right. She slowed and stopped as Mike’s wife approached her. “Have you made any headway on that missing woman?”