Rocky kept the package. She carried it under one arm and walked slowly back to the house. Cooper left complicated urine messages on trees, fences, bushes, lampposts, telephone poles, and on one particularly alluring rock that had pushed its way up from the asphalt sidewalk. Cooper rationed out just enough urine for a round-trip from home to the downtown and back.
The package was light for its size, about three feet long. She pulled a tab that said “pull here” and a string eviscerated the package, cutting it in half. She pulled the cardboard apart and unrolled a Styrofoam blanket. Within its eternal protection was a group of arrows. The shafts were deep amber, the feathers notched tight. A flyer said, “Hansen’s Traditional and Primitive Archery Equipment. These arrows are made of Osage orange and dried slowly in the open air of Nebraska.”
She stopped reading. The arrows clattered to the table, the tips eyeing her with a husky glare. Nebraska. What had Sam said back when he first saw the arrow in the dog? He had told her that there was a place in Nebraska where they made something like these. Someone was sending her the same arrows that Liz used, the same type of arrow that someone had used to shoot Cooper.
Cooper. She looked over at him. He had carried his favorite stick into the house. It was about two feet long, and dotted with tooth marks. He dropped it with a clatter. She immediately thought of Peter. And in the next breath another name came up.
Chapter 34
Rocky pulled into Hill’s driveway and as soon as she turned off the ignition, her throat grew dry and her hands went cold. All the blood galloped back to her torso for protection. Her heart pounded and she could hear her pulse thundering in her left ear. Was this what people heard before an aneurysm bursts loose, or a heart seizes up? No, she was terrified, not dying. If she could slow down her breathing and take deep breaths, she could regain enough control to get out of the car. She put her hands on the steering wheel and pushed her arms straight and took in a large gulp of air.
Beside her was the box with arrows from Hansen’s in Nebraska, which she had not ordered, but had been sent to her nonetheless. She scooped up the box in one arm, opened the truck door, and walked up to Hill’s house. She had never been in his house; all the lessons had taken place in his backyard. She hadn’t seen him since the day he came out to Peak’s Island.
He had called once and left a message but she had not returned his call. She knew he was not the kind of guy to call twice. But she imagined that every blinking light on her phone might be him, and she wondered what she would have done if he had called again. She had not erased his message.
“Rocky, what happened with Liz was long before you. You can’t control the past, especially my past. I’d like to see what we’ve got here. Give me a call.” Beep.
She hesitated at the fence to the backyard. No, she should just knock on the side door. Her hand was on the gate, and she stepped one foot into the backyard, the only part that she was familiar with. Then no, she turned and headed for the side door, and there he was. Hill stood at the door looking at her. He opened the door wide. “Nothing’s easy with you, is it?” he said and stood aside to let her in.
He was just home from work. He wore khaki pants and a navy blue sweater. It never occurred to her that he ever wore different clothes than the ones he wore when he taught archery. Of course, archery was just one part of his life, and his livelihood was teaching high school kids. Rocky was startled by the picture that emerged of him teaching eleventh-grade English and not archery. This man graded papers, collected homework, and probably had to attend the spring prom. Her resolve at discovering the truth began to fray.
She held out the box to him. “I need to know one thing. Did you send this to me?” Her hands shook as she passed the box to him and she knew that he noticed.
“What? Send you what? I got the clear message from you that you weren’t interested. I don’t need a duplicate copy of the memo. I get it.”
Rocky wanted very much to believe him, but she could not afford to be lied to. She watched his eyes and they met her straight on. She pulled an arrow out of the cardboard box. “These arrows are exactly the same as the one used to shoot Cooper. There are only two people who I can think of who would send these to me: you and Liz’s boyfriend, and I’m not feeling too great about either option.”
Hill took the arrow from her and ran it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Before we speculate on the sender, do you mind if I admire these for about thirty seconds? These are beautiful. See that binding around the point? Deer gut. I bet this wood was cut by the same guy who made this arrow. Some guys go all the way when they become traditionalists. But I didn’t send these. So I guess this would be a bad gift choice for you?”
She felt her calf muscles flicker, not knowing if they should spring like a cat or soften and stay.
“You look worried, if you don’t mind me saying, and I want you to stay and tell me what’s going on before you decide to bolt out of here. I can’t believe you’re standing in my house.” He pulled out a chair and pushed aside his briefcase bulging with papers on the table. She sat down.
She watched him caressing the arrow shaft, turning it to look at the point. Then he picked up the flyer that had fallen out of the box. “I’ve heard of this guy. Nice work.” He put the arrows down, folded up the piece of paper back into thirds and slid it into the box.
Rocky hadn’t known what she wanted when she came to his house, or if she should believe him, no matter which way he answered.
“You swear that you didn’t send these? You didn’t order them and have them sent to me?”
Hill leaned against the sink and placed both palms on the edge. The kitchen was small enough that Rocky could see an angry hangnail on one thumb.
“I didn’t send you this,” he said and for the first time she really believed him. “I’d like an excuse not to read sixty essays. Why don’t you stay and tell me what’s happening,” he said. He pulled two Mexican beers from the fridge and set one in front of Rocky. He slipped a knife from a drawer and cut a lime in half. Hill squeezed one lime into his beer and handed Rocky the other half. “Vitamin C. It’s been a long winter,” he said.
“Here’s what’s happening. I saw one of your paper targets at Liz’s old house. I didn’t know it was yours until you came out to the island and tacked up one of your targets.”
She had a lot to tell him, but she wanted to say the worst part first. She saw the flicker of surprise on his face, the involuntary jump among a small group of forehead muscles, as he ran the whole story through his head, fast forward, and his eyes moved from lower left to upper right as if he was watching a video, then he met her gaze.
“You’re wondering if I’m not telling you something, if I’m lying, if I kept seeing her after that one time, if I’m a psychopathic killer from the Maine woods.”
“Yes, and in that exact order. If you’re the psycho guy, save that part until last.”
She wanted to rub her finger along his black eyebrows and she hoped he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She clubbed down the part of her that wanted to touch the perfect half spiral of his eyebrow near the middle and follow the dark hairs up and out to the edges where they ended with soft down.
Rocky told him about the house in Orono, and the meticulously sawn arrows that had been set aside by the carpenter and given to someone who sounded like Peter. Then she told him about Peter finding her at the old Hamilton place, about the way she lied to him about the dog to get the address of Liz’s parents. He pushed his beer away and coiled tightly together. She watched him turn into the hunter.
“You’ve got what he wants,” said Hill. “He could just be waiting for the right moment. Maybe you shouldn’t stay out there.”
“But that’s where I live. Isaiah talked to the Portland police and they said there was nothing they could do without more information. Technically, he’s done nothing wrong,” said Rocky.
“Let me help you,” Hill said. “I’m worried about you. A guy like
this is bad news.”
Rocky stood up and drew the box of arrows toward her. She wanted to stay. She wanted to put the box down and take off her shoes and toss her car keys on the table.
“When I went to Liz’s house in Orono, she had one of your targets up in her backyard. That means that she hadn’t forgotten you.”
Hill started to speak and then rubbed one hand across his face in a way that far older men do.
“I am not going to lie about this. She was an amazing woman, sort of like a bolt of lightning. I wish I could have known her better, but I was married and it was just not going to happen. I tossed a roll of my targets into her car when I left. Stupid, huh?”
“You wanted her to remember you, and I guess she did,” said Rocky. “Look, I’m glad I talked to you again.” She tucked the box under her arm and slid her keys across the table into her fist. Hill might be separated, but he was still married, and Rocky suddenly felt foolish in his kitchen, talking about the time he had sex with Liz.
“You don’t have to go. We don’t have to keep skimming the surface,” he said when he saw her grab her coat.
And Rocky saw herself floating on the surface of a pool, belly down, touching as lightly as a water strider.
“Sometimes the surface is the safest place to be,” she said as she left.
Chapter 35
Rocky spent the next week practicing at the boathouse. By Friday afternoon she was deep into the rhythm of releasing the breath and the arrow when she heard a screech of metal against the door just as she plucked a round of arrows out of the target. Her first thought was that a tree had fallen. Had she been so engrossed with her archery practice that she hadn’t noticed the wind? She went to the door and pulled on the handle, trying to slide open the massive door. The door held fast. It had never stuck before. The door had been stubborn, had wobbled in the groove, but never stuck. She worked at it, heaved her body against the cold metal. The door was huge, large enough to let in fat sailboats that were hibernating for the winter. There was little chance that her body was going to unstick the door. The last rays of daylight entered through the windows on the loft where kayaks were stacked. She climbed the ladder to the loft and peered out the window. There was no sight of anyone.
This was the hour of homecoming, a time to have a hot drink, have a beer, come in from the cold time of day. Cooper was with Tess. Rocky had dropped him off with her in the afternoon. Tess had looked a bit drawn and discolored. Rocky had said, “You look like you’re sick. Do you have the bug that’s going around? Melissa tells me half the school has it. Are you sure it’s okay to leave Cooper with you?”
Tess kept one hand on her belly and said, “Must have been something I ate, an out-of-season crab cake. Cooper will keep me company while I nap on the couch.”
So Tess was in no shape to come looking for her. Rocky would have to find a way out. The window in the loft was a crank window, but it only opened about four inches. She would not be able to get her head or her butt through. She went back down and searched for something to pry open the window a few more inches.
The building was remarkably devoid of anything but boats. She climbed the ladder again and found a kayak paddle and separated it into two halves and placed the fat end against the bottom edge of the window and pushed. She felt the window open one more inch. Encouraged, she pushed harder. The paddle slipped and met the glass full force before she could say breaking and entering, which is the first thought that ran through her, accompanied by the tinkle of glass.
“Jesus Christ!” she shouted as she stumbled forward with the momentum of the paddle.
Maybe this was breaking and exiting. But this time she could express remorse immediately; as soon as she got home she would call the boat guy and tell him exactly what happened and promise to pay for the replacement window. This was a chance for a re-do, a chance for complete honesty. She closed the windowless frame and stuck her head out to see how far down she’d have to jump. She had jumped this far before, back when she was in high school sneaking out of her girlfriend’s house to meet boys. This second story looked much higher and less rewarding.
Rocky cleared the glass out of the sill with her boot, put on her leather gloves, and hung on to the window frame facing the building, edging her legs out the building. She dropped and crunched down on the broken glass. She felt nothing pierce her boots and she brushed the edges of them against a nearby tree, hoping to dislodge any glass fragments that might have hopped on.
Now she could take a look at the door around the front. She rounded the corner and stopped with icy awareness. Someone had wedged a two-by-four against the door, effectively locking it in place. The board was wedged so tightly that she finally had to kick it out with her foot. She ran inside and grabbed her equipment, tossing her arrows into the quiver. Slinging the bow over her arm with its bag dangling from her hand, she jogged to the truck.
It was Peter, she was sure of it. He’d come back after months of silence. If she’d had any doubts, when she opened her truck door, she saw a pile of neatly sawn arrow pieces stacked in a row on her dash. Rocky felt like the top of her head had opened, and the icy Atlantic water had filled her spine, grabbed her intestines and held them in a frozen fist.
How long had it taken her to get out of the building? Night was closing in, but the sky was clear and she could still easily see the outline of the nearby dock and leafless bushes.
He was bold, and somehow he knew everything. He knew where she was and he knew that she’d gone to Liz’s house in Orono and talked to the carpenter remodeling the house. She should have listened to Hill; Peter was not going to go away without Cooper.
She had spent about thirty minutes getting out of the boathouse. That meant Peter had a thirty minute lead on her. He must think that he had plenty of time to go get Cooper. He had been waiting for the perfect time and he had taken his obsession to the next level. The dangerousness of his actions registered deep in her abdomen.
Thankfully, Cooper was with Tess at her house. Rocky got in the truck and slammed the door. She did not take the time to struggle with the old seat belt. She fishtailed out of the gravel drive and headed to Tess’s house. Once she got there she’d call Isaiah and let him know that Peter was on the island and that he had tried to trap her in the boathouse. He’d never make it off the island; they’d stop him at the ferry.
In five minutes Rocky was in front of Tess’s house where the faded prayer flags snapped in the wind. She jumped out and even before she got to the door, she saw the piece of paper attached to a clip. It said, “Rocky, I’m taking the big guy to your house. Feeling sick, heading to Portland.”
Rocky felt the steady click, click, click of bad-luck dominoes falling over and she desperately needed to stop the fall. If Tess was already gone and had left the dog, then Rocky might be too late.
She got back in the truck and drove the two miles to her house. She passed one teenage boy on a bike, dressed completely in black and she almost hit him. She rolled down the window and shouted, “Get a light!” She passed Melissa’s house and a warm, yellow light spilled from the windows. She wished that the dog warden’s truck had a siren or a flashing light. No, she didn’t want Peter to know that it was her. She pulled the truck as close to the house as she ever had, challenging the recent thaw and fresh mud.
She was out of the truck before it completely stopped. She heard Cooper barking in the house. He was still there, the dominoes could stop falling. But his bark was different. Rocky had only heard him bark like this one other time, with this explosive, split-open-the-sky sound.
“Cooper, Cooper, it’s me,” she said as soon as her feet hit the deck. She pushed open the door. Cooper stopped barking long enough to greet her, but he was clearly alarmed. His black ruff was raised along his back and he turned his head as if he heard a sound on the ocean side of the house. He boiled up a growl that raised the fine hairs on Rocky’s arms.
What was the other sound? Rocky turned, followed the soft noise, and pushe
d open the bathroom door with the tip of her shoe. Cooper faced the kitchen windows, pulling his lips up, revealing the full danger of his teeth.
Rocky saw the small boots first, the legs folded on the floor, then she saw Tess’s body heaved against the bathtub.
“Tess!”
She put her hand on Tess and the woman immediately stirred.
“Something’s wrong,” Tess whispered. “My stomach…I can’t stand up, can’t walk.” She squeezed out the words as if the effort would kill her.
Rocky knelt on the linoleum floor and put one hand under the stricken woman. “I’m going to pull up, Tess, and get you out of the bathroom.” An odd part of her brain demanded to change the variables, change the location of Tess, to fight off death and disaster. As soon as she put an arm around Tess’s ribs, the woman shrieked, and Rocky knew a hot orange bolt of pain shot through the older woman. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but you are not dying in the bathroom. We’re going to get you out of here. I’ll call Isaiah and he’ll get the water ambulance.” She dragged Tess to the hardwood floor in front of the couch.
Rocky punched in Isaiah’s number. Her hands shook. The dog barked.
“Cooper, stop. I won’t be able to hear.”
After six rings, the answering machine came on and Rocky said, “Tess is sick and needs to get to the hospital in Portland. I’m calling nine-one-one right now.”
She hoped that the volunteer squad was home. “We need the water ambulance immediately. Isaiah’s rental house.” She hung up without offering details. She had seen the small fire truck go out on other calls. It was affectionately known as the Tonka Truck. Now, she prayed to see it drive up. She wanted to be ready for Peter if he tried to get in.
More than anything she wanted a weapon, and despite the dog’s unrelenting barking, she slipped out the front door, did not turn on the outside light, and pulled her bow and arrows from the truck. She left the terror of the unseen behind; this was not the terror of going into a basement at night or having a car go dead in a dim parking garage. This fear was about Tess and the dog and losing what she had left. She wanted to see Peter, and she was convinced that he was there in the darkness. She wanted to run over him and flatten him like a can. The adrenaline reservoir poured out and flooded her body. Rocky slipped back in the house.
Lost & Found With Bonus Excerpt Page 21
