The Game Master turned to glance back at his passenger. “Enjoying the ride, are you?”
The intruder’s head wobbled as the kayak moved into the channel and the force of the outgoing tide.
“No use complaining now.” The Game Master chuckled at his own little joke. “You should have stayed away from the professor.”
The following morning, Liz called Nathan Tarkington’s office to see if she needed to remain in contact for the next few weeks, and to share her concerns about the lack of response she’d had from the State Police in general. When she reached the detective’s voice mail, she left a brief request for him to call her.
Tarkington picked up just as she was about to disconnect. “Yes, Dr. Clarke. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to touch base with you. Things are hectic here.”
“Maybe I’m getting neurotic, but I felt as though you were avoiding me.”
“No, no. The investigation is under way, and I’m not at liberty to disclose information. I assure you, I’ll call you when and if you’re needed.”
The detective was saying all the right things, but Liz had the feeling that she was getting the brushoff. “Did you get a report from a trooper who responded to a complaint at my home? Someone poisoned Michael Hubbard’s guard dog, a valuable German shepherd. Do you know Michael? He’s my neighbor, and he lent me the animal to—”
“Yes, I know Captain Hubbard well. I’m sorry, but I’m late for a meeting. I promise that your concerns will be given the attention they deserve.”
“Did the officer mention the insurance policy that my ex-husband took out on—”
“Yes, Dr. Clarke, I have that information. You must understand that—”
“This isn’t coincidence. I’m being stalked.”
“I’ll get back to you on this. We appreciate your cooperation. Thank you, and have a good day.”
“Thanks for nothing,” Liz muttered to the German shepherd after Tarkington hung up. “Daddy was right. The police are not our friends.”
What she needed was to get out of the house and do something—anything physical—to work off her annoyance at the detective and the tension gathering in her shoulders and the back of her neck. After spraying herself and Otto liberally with insect repellent, Liz put the dog on a leash and slid the .22 revolver into an old holster of her father’s so that she could comfortably carry the gun on her walk. She felt a little foolish, but she had promised Michael that she’d keep the weapon handy when she was alone. You couldn’t get much more alone than the old logging trail that ran into State Game Lands.
She walked and ran for the better part of two hours, returning in an easier frame of mind than she’d been in for days. She’d decided to contact Nancy Steiner and ask her point-blank about Cameron’s abrupt departure, and she’d made the decision to refuse Michael’s offer of marriage. No matter how it altered their friendship, she couldn’t settle for security. She’d been independent too long to marry for emotional security and companionship.
What to do about Jack still plagued her, but a trip to Ireland was beginning to look better and better. Jack hadn’t been honest with her, and without honesty between them, good sex wasn’t enough. There was too much danger of sliding into his world and the possibility that his life mirrored that of his brother George.
She cared for Jack, but she’d proved that she could make tough decisions where he was concerned. She’d done it once, and she could do it again.
As she and the German shepherd entered the kitchen, a blinking red light on the kitchen phone alerted her to a missed call. Caller ID listed it as the Delaware State Police, and she listened to the message. Detective Tarkington was polite, but succinct. He apologized for not answering her primary question when they’d spoken. She was free to go on summer vacation so long as she left a contact number.
She had scarcely better luck with Nancy Steiner. Liz reached the professor by telephone at Somerville, but found her less than friendly.
“Considering the charges that Mr. Whitaker has made against you, I’d suppose that you’d be more than willing to drop the entire matter,” Professor Steiner said.
“I was not stalking him,” Liz replied. “Quite the contrary. It was Cameron who—”
“I’m really not interested in your excuses. Whatever your slant on the problem—”
“Slant?” Liz said. “I have reason to believe that Cameron threatened me both by e-mail and repeated calls to my home phone. He trespassed on my property, and admitted taking photographs of a highly personal nature.”
“Dr. Clarke, I see no reason for this conversation to continue further. This is not California, and whatever conduct might have been acceptable in your last position is not sanctioned here. Mr. Whitaker is no longer an employee or a student at Somerville, and his reputation and future career have suffered irreparable damage. Haven’t you done enough to him without pursuing—”
“Has he left Dover?”
“I would suggest you contact Dean Pollett, although I highly doubt he will share confidential information with you either.”
“Did Cameron do something to you? Asimple yes or no will suffice,” Liz said. “Why would he accuse me of wrongdoing and suddenly leave Somerville?”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “Nancy . . . all I’m asking is—”
“I should think I’ve made myself quite clear.”
“He did, didn’t he?”
“Good-bye, Professor Clarke. Do not attempt to discuss this matter with me again.” A loud click ended the connection.
Liz swore under her breath and punched in Dean Pollett’s number. His secretary answered and informed her that the dean would be out of his office for the next week.
“Can you tell me if Cameron Whitaker’s accusations against me have been dropped?”
“That’s for Dean Pollett to—”
“Phyllis. Nothing happens in the school that you aren’t on top of. Please. At least, tell me—”
“Dr. Clarke, you really shouldn’t be discussing this with me. Dean Pollett will be back on—”
“Yes or no, Phyllis?”
“I can’t say.”
“Just tell me if I should hire an attorney. It’s an expense I can’t afford at this time, but—”
Phyllis cleared her throat. “I believe . . .” she began hesitantly. “I believe you could hold off on that action . . . for the time being.”
“Thanks, you’re a life saver. I’ll sleep easier tonight.”
“Would you like me to make an appointment with the dean for you?”
“No. I’m thinking about taking a trip to Ireland, to see my daughter. Tell Dean Pollett that I’ll speak with him when I get back.” She thanked the secretary again and hung up.
“One more monster slain,” Liz said to the dog. She washed out the water bowl and refilled it. “There you go, Otto, nothing’s too good for you.”
She felt like calling Amelia and telling her the good news, and then remembered that there would be no more heartfelt chats with her best friend. She could share Cameron’s downfall with Michael, but she wasn’t up to talking to him yet. If she did, she’d feel compelled to tell him that she couldn’t marry him . . . that if she’d led him to believe otherwise, she was sorry . . . that all she felt for him was friendship.
Instead, Liz tried to reach Sydney. When voice mail picked up, Liz left a message for her friend to call. Then she grabbed a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich and threw herself into the task of cutting the grass.
Liz finished the back yard as the first drops of rain began to fall. Driven inside, she swept and mopped her kitchen floor and settled down with her computer to check out fares to Ireland. When she couldn’t find anything reasonable, she put in a call to Dot at the travel agency in Dover that she’d used several times before.
Everyone Liz knew seemed to find great rates on the internet, but she was old-fashioned enough to prefer the services of an experienced travel agent for overseas flights. Due to a compute
r glitch, a friend in California had once purchased two tickets to Italy for the same day. Getting a refund from her credit card company had proved a nightmare, and Liz wasn’t willing to make a similar mistake.
Dot called back in twenty minutes with several possibilities. “I can get you a much better deal if you’re willing to wait at least ten days,” the agent said cheerily. “You’ll save four hundred dollars if you stay at least three weeks.”
Liz groaned. “Ten days? Can’t you schedule now?”
“No. It’s a special promotion. Iceland Air. It includes a twenty-four-hour layover at a good hotel in Reykjavik. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone about it, but it’s common knowledge. I know you’d love to see your daughter sooner, but I’d wait if I were you.”
“Okay, so what now? Do I call you in ten days?” Liz asked. “I’d like to think about it. I might want to leave sooner.”
“If you do, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll call you on the first day of the special. And meanwhile, if anything better comes up, I’ll let you know. There’s always the possibility of a special to Heathrow or Glasgow. Then you’d have to book transportation to Dublin, but that’s minimal.”
“No, I’m not that fond of air travel. I’ll fly straight through.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, then,” Dot said. “Bye.”
“Yes, that’s what I said.” Liz laughed. “I’m coming to Ireland.” It had taken her the better part of the evening to reach Katie, but now that she had, she felt a hundred times better. “I can’t wait to see you,” she said. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Moms. Really. And I’m sorry about what I said—about Dad. I know he can be a real jerk sometimes, but . . .” Katie sighed. “He’s really gone and done it this time, hasn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Does this mean I’ll never see the twins? I know you and Danielle never hit it off, but they are my half—”
“I’d never try to keep you from seeing them. So long as it’s okay with Danielle, and I’m certain she’d be glad to have you visit with them.”
“You don’t mind, really?”
“No, I don’t mind. It might be nice if you’d send Danielle a photo of yourself. See if you can find a plastic frame, something the little Tasmanian devils can’t eat or tear apart.”
Katie laughed. “Be nice, Moms. They’re only babies.”
“Actually, honey, I think Danielle could use a little emotional support. Call her if you like. But just do it when the rates are low.”
“I hear you. Do you think you could pick me up two pairs of jeans, the ones I like, in a size eight? And Kraft macaroni and cheese? As many boxes as you can stuff in your suitcase. Ireland’s fantastic, of course, but sometimes, I could die for Grotto pizza or Thrashers’ fries with vinegar. Even the Coke tastes different over here. I think it’s sweeter.”
“No Cokes. I draw the line at trying to smuggle cans of soda through customs.”
“What made you decide to come here instead of driving to New England with Michael? You said you were thinking about it.”
“It’s too long to explain over the phone. I’ll tell you everything when I get there. Let’s just say that I couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing you.”
“Hmm,” Katie teased. “I think the plot thickens. Give with the dirt.”
“Nope, you’ll have to wait. I was wondering if you’d like to do some sightseeing, maybe rent a car and see some castles?”
“Sounds great. I’ll ask around, see if I can get a line on some neat places to stay. I know it’s kind of cornball, but I’d really love to go to one of those medieval dinners where everyone’s in costume.”
“I know you have classes, but I might even take a mini tour, the ones where you bike through quaint villages. There are some standing stones in the north.”
“Moms, there are stones everywhere! And sheep. Tons of sheep. They’re gorgeous from a distance, but they can really stop traffic. I know there’s some other stuff I need from home. I’ll e-mail you a list.”
“I don’t doubt it. Just keep in mind that I can only bring two suitcases, and I need room for my own stuff.”
They talked for another ten minutes, and then Katie had to run to meet a friend at the library. Liz hung up the phone with a grin on her face. For a little while, she’d reached out and touched the Katie she loved more than anything in the world. She knew it was natural that they’d hit a few bumps in their relationship. Katie was growing up, and she was as adamant about her independence as Liz herself had been at that age.
Liz realized she was hungry. It was too late for a real dinner, so she settled for a frozen low-cal pizza, a salad, and an apple. She thought about calling Michael and telling him her decision, but decided that the phone was a coward’s way out. No matter how hard it was, she had to do it face to face. She had just poured herself a glass of iced tea when the phone rang.
Caller ID showed a local number and the name A. Rafferty. Was Jack calling her from his parents’ home? She didn’t want to talk to him any more than she’d wanted to speak to Michael, but she picked up anyway.
“Lizzy?”
She was surprised to hear Nora’s voice rather than Jack’s. “Hi, Nora.”
“I wanted you to know that I’m bringing Georgie’s boat over tomorrow morning. No, before you start arguing with me, this is what my son wanted. It has nothing to do with you and Jack.”
“I can’t accept it,” she said. “I’d love to buy the boat, but—”
“Hush that talk, girl. Of course you can take it. Georgie loved it, and it’s the last thing I can do for him. You’ll take it, or I’ll know the reason why.”
“Nothing is settled between me and Jack. I’m scared, Nora. Too much has happened, too fast. I’m going to Ireland to visit Katie, and—”
“You’re scared? You’re not the only one. But you’re not to worry your heart over takin’ Georgie’s boat. There’s more reasons than you being the nicest young woman I know or you and Jack liking each other . . . It’s got nothin’ to do with Jack.”
Liz stretched the cord so she could reach her tea and took a sip. “What does it have to do with?”
“Your daddy and Georgie. You were too little to remember, but my Arlie used to drink as bad as Donald. Only, your daddy was a happy drunk, and whiskey made Arlie mean. He was hard on his boys, too hard. And I’m ashamed to say that I wasn’t much better. I used to take a belt to them, but Arlie was worse. The two boys were stubborn and ornery. Always sneakin’ off from chores, or talkin’ back. Georgie was the oldest, and he caught the most hell. Your daddy used to stick up for him. Said a boy without spunk wasn’t worth salt. Once, he and Arlie come to blows over it, and Donald took Georgie home to Clarke’s Purchase and kept him for two months.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s true,” Nora said. “You can ask Jack. He remembers the bad times. I think it was thinkin’ he was losin’ Georgie for good that made Arlie see the light. Or it was just time we grew up and started actin’ like a mother and father ought to. We started going to church. I quit drinkin’, and Arlie gave up the hard stuff. It made a new man out of him. Oh, he takes a beer now and then, but it don’t set him off like the moonshine used to. You know your daddy made whiskey, didn’t you?”
“No-o-o.” Liz sank onto the kitchen stool, the glass of iced tea clutched in her hand. “I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yeah. He made good whiskey. Had him a still on a high spot deep in the marsh. That old Buck Juney worked for him on and off for years. It’s the reason he let Buck build a shack on your land. I always thought your daddy made up some of those crazy tales about Buck to keep people away from the still.”
Gooseflesh rose on Liz’s upper arms. “He worked for Daddy? Are you sure?”
Nora chuckled. “Who can be sure about anything, now that they’re both dead? But Georgie’s the one who told me, and he thought the sun rose and set on Donald Clarke.” Her voice g
rew serious. “Take the damn boat, Lizzy. It’s either that or start a family feud between the Clarkes and the Raffertys. And you know watermen. Once a thing like that gets teeth, it will last for at least three generations.”
“I’d like to pay something.”
“Nope. Consider it a gift from your daddy. I’m bringing it first thing in the morning. I should be there by nine at the latest. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a ride home. If it’s not convenient, I can have Arlie—”
“Nonsense, Nora. Of course I’ll drive you home.”
“Good. Arlie and Jack are going to have their hands full tomorrow anyway. You heard the weather reports, haven’t you?”
“No. I haven’t had the TV on in days.”
“That hurricane that made such a mess down in the islands, it’s headin’ straight up the East Coast. Hurricane warnings are already being posted for the Carolina coast. It’s one reason I didn’t want to wait to bring Georgie’s boat. That old shed is rickety, and it’s liable to fall in on the boat and do real damage. You make sure you’ve got batteries and kerosene in case the power goes out. We haven’t had a bad blow in a while, and we’re about due.”
“I’ll check to be certain I’m prepared. I saw something about the hurricane in the paper yesterday, but it was supposed to be losing strength and turning east.”
“Well, Cassandra changed her mind. Winds are 120 and gaining speed. We’re safe here for another forty-eight hours, but after that . . .”
“I’ll check the weather station on the internet.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll see you in the morning then. And Lizzy . . .”
“Yes?”
“When you go to bed tonight, say a prayer for my Jack. He needs all the help he can get.”
Later, after Liz had finished her meal and gotten to the computer, she found the weather forecast as dire as Jack’s mother had warned. If the storm continued on track, it would pass directly over the DelMarVa. And when she went to her e-mail, she found three messages that had all come in after seven p.m.. The first, from Michael, said that he’d located a six-month-old German shepherd pup on eBay, out of the same bloodline as Heidi, and he was driving to Pittsburgh to see her. The second was from Jack. It read simply, Let’s talk this out. Jack. Finally a brief note from Amelia’s husband, Thomas, explained that he’d decided to postpone the memorial service for another week due to the threatening hurricane and travel difficulties for relatives driving up from the Deep South.
At Risk Page 26
