It’s the damn library basement all over again.
Delroy whispered an apology for having knocked over the wine bottle.
“I’m so sorry. I’m just a clumsy old fool.”
Adele reached down slowly with her right hand and picked up the bottle by its thick glass neck. If the man coming up the stairs intended to make his way into the bedroom, she had no intention of allowing herself to be an easy victim.
A loud, shrill whistle pierced the nighttime silence outside Decklan Stone’s home. Adele let out a long, grateful sigh as she heard footsteps return to the kitchen and then the home’s back door open and close. She returned as quickly and quietly as possible to her earlier location near the bedroom window and looked out to see the same burning cigarette light she had seen the last time she stayed overnight as Decklan’s guest.
Two male voices murmured outside, but their tones remained too low for Adele to hear what was being said. The men abruptly left the area below the window, and a short time later, the sound of an outboard motor coming to life was heard, followed by the motor’s increasingly distant drone as the boat journeyed across the nighttime waters on its way back to Deer Harbor.
“There were two of them?”
Adele nodded.
“Yes, and I’m almost certain who they were.”
It was the very same stutter.
Without saying more, Adele moved out into the hallway and then down the stairs, going slowly at first, and then after making certain no-one else was in the home, she moved into the kitchen and located the answering machine.
The tape was gone.
Delroy lightly hit the countertop with a closed right fist.
“Damn! They took the tape with them.”
Adele’s face broke out into a sly grin as she reached into her back pocket and withdrew the very same recorder she had used to interview Decklan Stone with. She proceeded to replay Bella’s message, having earlier kept her wits enough to record it as it was first being played by the intruder.
Delroy looked upon her with bemused amazement and an entirely new level of respect.
“Why you clever, clever girl. . .”
15.
“You intend to make a call? I don’t believe we have service out here.”
Adele shook her head as her finger moved from left to right across her cell phone screen.
“No, I took a picture of a photo originally taken years ago in Roche Harbor. I think I might have missed something. Here it is.”
Delroy stood in the kitchen’s near-absolute darkness and watched Adele’s eyes peering at the illuminated image on her phone. She hit the zoom feature, stared at it a second longer, and then nodded her head.
“Look at the person in the background behind Decklan and Calista. Do you recognize him?”
Delroy squinted as he held Adele’s phone in front of him.”
“You mean the young man there?”
The former professor’s head snapped upward as his eyes widened.
“That’s Will Speaks, the sheriff’s son!”
Adele abruptly turned and began to leave the kitchen. She paused and pointed back at Delroy.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Delroy could hear Adele running up the steps to the second floor and then seconds later, running back down them. She entered the kitchen with her backpack and proceeded to retrieve the French magazine she had taken from the library that contained the long-ago feature story on Decklan and Calista Stone.
Adele scanned the photographs in the article using the magnifier app on her cell phone. After a few seconds she tapped one of the black-and-white pictures with her right pointer finger.
“There, take a look.”
Delroy gazed at the photo showing Decklan and Calista walking hand in hand toward the entrance to the Roche Harbor Hotel. Adele handed him her cell phone.
“Look at it with this. Check out the upper right hand corner of the photo.”
Delroy Hicks leaned down close until his face was merely inches from the magazine. Then he stood up and shook his head from side to side.
“It’s the Speaks boy again, staring at them.”
“Two photographs, taken weeks, or perhaps even months apart, and Will Speaks happens to be in both of them. Why is that?”
Delroy returned Adele’s phone and stuffed his hands into his front pockets.
“It is an oddly remarkable coincidence.”
“No, not if Will Speaks was watching them, following them.”
Delroy removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Why on earth would he be doing that? I understand he suffered some mental challenges in his youth, likely exacerbated by his mother’s death, but now that he’s a man one would hardly know that to be the case. He seems normal enough, at least what little I’ve seen of him.”
Adele recalled how Will had looked at her in Deer Harbor after her visit with Decklan Stone. She also remembered something the former sheriff told his son that morning, poking Will in the side as he did so.
Don’t you even think about it!
Adele had no idea what the words meant, but believed she was getting closer to something very significant. The former San Juan County Sheriff had been adamant she not return to Decklan’s island home, and then Bella Morris intervened on Adele’s behalf, shooing the sheriff away.
And now Bella is dead, but not before trying to speak with Decklan about something important.
“Now consider the fact that whoever broke into Decklan’s home knew he had one of those old-fashioned answering machines. Hardly anybody uses those things anymore, but those two men outside this house knew. The one who came inside went right for it. You said yourself Decklan didn’t even have you over here. He would visit you in Roche Harbor. So knowing that, who might have known about the answering machine? Maybe Bella mentioned having left a message on an answering machine, but then who would have had the opportunity to hear her say that?”
Delroy’s eyes narrowed. He sensed Adele was closing in on something he feared might be better left alone.
“You have some kind of plan working itself out in that young head of yours, don’t you?”
As crazy and dangerous as it might prove, Adele was determined to see it through. When she told Delroy of her intent, he chuckled and then nodded his agreement; though, he was clearly nervous. He would help her because, in doing so, he thought it possible to help his friend Decklan. Delroy feared the writer was losing his will to live, and he had no intention of outliving Decklan Stone.
The two slept in shifts, worried the visitors might return to the island. They managed just a few hours between them.
Delroy knocked lightly on Adele’s bedroom door and cleared his throat.
“So you sure you still want to do this thing?”
Adele needed no time to answer. Her resolve persisted.
“Yes.”
Delroy appeared to be working the kinks out of his neck as he rolled his head from side to side. Then he gave Adele a long look, shrugged his shoulders, and confirmed his own willingness to help her with the plan.
“OK, then let’s go.”
The walk the two made to the hidden cove and the awaiting runabout brought about the benefit of a water-chilled, pre-morning breeze that pushed back any residual fatigue, which in turn sharpened their senses and further solidified Adele’s resolve to proceed.
The journey across the water to Deer Harbor went smoothly, benefitted greatly by the absence of any waves. Delroy moved the small boat to the very back corner of the marina where it was least likely to be seen. He and Adele tied it up to the dock and then began to make their way toward the ramp that connected the marina to the island.
The stench of burned wood and plastic permeated the area, growing more intense the closer they came to what remained of Bella’s store. Delroy paused at the blackened wood frame. It had yellow and black, police tape wrapped around it that read, “Do Not Cross.”
“What a terrible shame. This wa
s a fixture of the islands, as was Bella herself.”
Adele ignored Delroy’s maudlin sentiment. She had a more immediate concern.
“There it is. That’s his boat.”
Delroy could see the outline of a small, battered fishing boat.
“I do hope you’re sure, because I don’t want to be involved in potentially sinking the wrong boat.”
Adele nodded.
“Yes, that’s it. That’s the one.”
Delroy glanced at the vessel and then looked back at Adele. Seeing her determination to proceed, he let out a quick sigh and made his way down to the boat.
“Keep an eye out for anyone. I’m going aboard to find a wrench.”
Adele stood at the top of the ramp as a lookout. She estimated they had no more than fifteen or twenty minutes before daylight.
“Found one! He’s got tools scattered all over this thing. He appears to have the organization of a homeless man!”
Delroy emerged from the back of the fishing boat carrying a small wrench in his right hand. He swung his legs over and onto the narrow, metal-framed swim step that hung off the very back of the vessel as Adele silently prayed the old man didn’t fall off into the water with a loud splash that might alert others to their presence.
“This won’t be fun.”
Delroy groaned as he leaned down onto all fours and then slipped his thin right arm through the narrow gap between the boat’s swim step frame and the aluminum transom. He sucked in a breath between clenched teeth when the frigid water encased the entirety of his forearm as his fingers ran along the water-slimed exterior of the boat transom’s surface.
He had been the one to suggest using the sheriff’s boat as a distraction but as his teeth began to chatter from the water’s seemingly near freezing temperature, Delroy began to regret the idea.
Then he located the small brass drain plug and allowed himself a satisfied grin.
There you are you little bastard!
Delroy reached down through the swim step gap with his left hand and passed the wrench into his right hand, his lower body nearly sliding off into the water in the process.
Easy, old boy. You got a job to do, now just get it done.
The plug wouldn’t budge. He tried again, and then again, failing each time to break the drain plug free.
Delroy’s anger quickly increased. He forgot about the cold water, forgot about slipping off the swim step, and even forgot about the risk of someone seeing him on a boat that wasn’t his. His lips pulled back into a wolflike snarl, and he yanked the wrench with every bit of strength left in his cancer-weakened body.
The drain plug moved.
After a few more tugs, Delroy was able to use his right hand to unscrew the plug from the hull, but realized too late the cold temperatures had rendered his fingers slow to respond and the plug fell from his grasp and drifted downward toward the marina’s mud and eel-grass bottom some ten feet below.
As Delroy stood up with a hushed grunt he could hear water trickling into the boat’s bilge. He tossed the wrench into the boat and then carefully stepped back onto the dock while he also focused on catching his breath. His fedora sat where he had left it atop one of the many white-framed electrical boxes the boats in the marina used to plug into shore power. Soon the hat was back on Delroy’s head and he made his way up the ramp toward Adele.
“Are we good?”
Delroy grinned.
“Indeed, we are. There’s a good deal of water coming into the boat. Before long, the bilge pump will kick on, and that’ll get the attention of someone around here. Then they’ll make a quick to call to the sheriff that he’s got a serious problem. My guess is he’ll be down here within the hour.”
Adele scanned the area for any sign of someone else being nearby and found none.
“OK, until then we hide and wait.”
Delroy pointed to a nook across the main road that was partially hidden by a tall evergreen tree growing out of the hillside between two large homes that had sweeping views of the marina and island waters beyond.
“Up there would work. We can see everyone coming and going and still have most of the marina in our sightline as well.”
Adele agreed and the two made their way up to the road. By the time they reached it, the last of the nighttime darkness had almost completely dissipated. From somewhere on the other side of Deer Harbor, perhaps near Decklan’s island, came the long and lonely wail of a single loon that carried across the glasslike waters and rose up to echo over the broad-branched shoulders of the trees that stretched out above the island’s shores.
It was a sound both beautiful and ominous that shot a brief, cold quiver up and down Adele’s spine.
“Fortune smiles upon us, Ms. Plank. The Native American tribes of this region have long considered that song to be a harbinger of harmony and truth.”
Adele glanced at the old man with uncertainty.
“Really?”
“Oh, yes! Do you know the loon, unlike most other birds, has solid bones? It is what allows them to dive so far beneath the surface of the water and find the truth that hides beneath.”
The loon’s call sounded again, just as the light of the morning sun broke out over the hillside and caressed the Deer Harbor waters below.
Adele nudged Delroy with her left elbow.
“I sure hope you’re right about that bird out there. We could use some harmony and truth.”
Delroy rested his chin upon the arms he had folded over his knees and smiled, an act which deepened the already crevice-like lines that mapped either side of his mouth and the corners of his eyes.
“As do I, young lady, as do I.”
Within ten minutes, an older, tall, balding and heavily-bearded man lumbered down the middle of the road with long arms swinging at his sides. He turned onto the path leading to the marina.
Delroy leaned toward Adele and whispered into her left ear.
“That’s Old Jack. I haven’t seen him in almost ten years. He works on a lot of boats around here. Really knows his stuff. He’s something of a local legend among all the area boat owners.”
Adele remembered that Martin Speaks mentioned that it was Old Jack who kept Decklan’s Chris Craft in such good condition.
“I think you best get yourself ready. If anyone were to notice something taking on water, it would be Old Jack.”
Delroy’s prediction proved accurate. Mere minutes later they heard Old Jack speaking loudly into his cell phone at the top of the marina ramp.
“You might want to get yourself down here quick, Sheriff. I can hear the water coming in. Your bilge pump is working overtime trying to keep up. We might need to pull her out of the water pronto or you’ll be pulling her off the bottom before too long.”
It was Adele’s turn to whisper to Delroy.
“Well done, Professor! This is going about as smoothly as we could have hoped for.”
Soon a rust-plagued pickup truck pulled up to the marina entrance, after which both Martin and Will Speaks stepped out and quickly made their way down the ramp to their boat. Adele and Delroy could hear the former Island County sheriff cursing loudly at the water coming into the small fishing vessel.
“OK, I’m calling the taxi to take me to the sheriff’s home. You stay here and then message me if they leave before I get back.”
Delroy tipped his fedora, underneath which his eyes glimmered with excitement. He was truly enjoying playing the part of Adele’s accomplice in the mysterious adventure he found himself involved in.
“Be careful, young lady, and call me at the first sign of any trouble.”
Delroy watched Adele as she jogged down the road until she was out of sight of the marina. Adele spoke into her cell phone and then waited for the cab to arrive. When it did, she opened the right back door and then paused to give Delroy a quick wave. He waved back and then heard a subconscious whisper of warning that he should try and stop her from going to the isolated home without him. By the time Delroy pushed himse
lf up onto his feet, Adele was gone. The soft, distant drone of the departing taxi’s tires against the pavement was the only sign she had been there at all.
Adele Plank was going into a potentially dangerous unknown, and doing so entirely on her own.
16.
“You mind me asking how you know the sheriff?”
Adele sat in the back of Joe’s taxi quietly building up the courage to actually break into the home of a former law enforcement officer.
“I’m a reporter. It’s for an article.”
Adele could see Joe glancing at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes lingered on her for a brief moment and then he shrugged, an indication he no longer cared what her intentions with the former sheriff might be.
“Don’t think I’ve ever dropped anyone off at his house is all. I figure Sheriff’s never been one for entertaining people. Truth be told, I think the guy is just a puffed up, self-important, old prick. His boy seems all right, though. A bit off in the head, but nice enough. He sure likes being on the water. I see him out there all the time on that little skiff of his. Rain or shine, it don’t matter. Can’t say I blame him. Means he doesn’t have to listen to his old man’s bitching! I remember him bragging to me a few summers back how he was taking it all the way to Bellingham and back on a single tank of gas. That’s quite a trip in such a little boat, but like I said, he’s always been a little off.”
Adele didn’t respond. In fact, she was so focused on sticking to her plan she hardly heard the taxi driver’s words at all. Only when the car came to a stop on the side of a narrow, heavily-treed road did she look up and realize they had arrived at the destination that was the gated drive to the home of Martin Speaks and his son Will.
“You need me to wait here for you? I don’t mind, got nothing better to do.”
Adele was grateful for the offer, realizing Joe could add another layer of security for her in case Martin or Will returned.
“Actually, yes, that would be great. Thank you so much.”
Joe shrugged again and picked up a book from the front passenger seat.
“It’s no problem. Give me a chance to get some reading done. I figure it’s about time I read this thing since the guy who wrote it lives around here.”
The Writer Page 13
