Stuart Woods - Dark Harbor

“Well, I think you should find something else to copy.”

“All right.” Peter gathered up his papers and went upstairs.

Arrington handed the book to Stone. “It’s the diary of somebody called Esme Stone,” she said, handing it to him.

“That was Dick’s daughter,” he said.

“Perhaps you should put it away somewhere.”

Stone looked at the book. Esme’s name was stamped in gold on the cover. It had probably been a Christmas or birthday present from her parents. He flipped through it, marveling at the beautiful handwriting, then closed it. He shouldn’t be reading it any more than Peter should.

Stone went to the cupboard where the safe was, opened it, put the diary inside and closed it again. Next time they built a fire, he would burn it, and Esme’s secrets would be safe.

AFTER LUNCH Stone remembered that he had not gone for the New York Times, and he asked Peter if he’d like an ice cream cone.

“I think I can handle that,” Peter replied.

Stone laughed. “I bet you can.”

They got into the MG and started for the village.

“I like this car,” Peter said. “What kind is it?”

“It’s called an MG,” Stone replied, “and it’s old. It was built a long time before you were born.”

“Where did you buy it?”

“I didn’t buy it. It belonged to my cousin Dick, and when he died, he left it to me.”

“My mom has a Mercedes SL 55,” Peter said, “and it’s very fast, but it’s not as…” He seemed to search for a word. “Elegant as this.”

“That’s a good word for it,” Stone said. “You have a very good vocabulary for a boy your age.”

“That’s what my teacher told me.” He pointed out the window. “What’s that pond?”

“It isn’t a pond, really. It’s a little cove, saltwater. A long time ago there was a resort hotel on the shore over there, and they built a kind of dam to keep water in the cove when the tide was out so the guests could swim. The hotel burned down, but the dam is still there.”

“Why did it burn down?”

“I imagine it was a wooden structure, covered in shingles, like most of the houses on the island, and it’s easy for them to catch fire.”

They were approaching the Dark Harbor Shop, and Stone could see three state police cars parked in front of it. He wondered what could possibly have happened on the island that would require three state police cars.

Stone and Peter went into the shop, and Stone set Peter on a stool at the soda fountain and told him to order whatever he wanted, then went to the rear of the shop to get a paper. Jimmy Hotchkiss’s office was crowded with state police officers, and Stone couldn’t hear what they were saying. He went back to the soda fountain. “What’s going on with the police?” he asked the girl behind the counter.

“A little girl has disappeared,” the girl said, “and I think they’re organizing a search party.”

Stone started to ask the little girl’s name, but it occurred to him that he wouldn’t know her or her family, in any case. He paid for his paper and Peter’s ice cream, and they got back into the car.

“Do you think they’ll find the little girl?” Peter asked.

“I expect so,” Stone said. “It’s not all that big an island; she probably just got lost in the woods.”

They drove on toward the house, and as they pulled into the driveway, Stone saw Ed Rawls getting out of his Range Rover.

“Hey, Ed,” Stone said, “have you met my… friend, Peter?”

“How are you, Peter?” Rawls said.

“How do you do?” Peter replied, offering his hand like a gentleman.

“I’ve got some news,” Rawls said to Stone, and he looked worried.

“Peter, you go on inside, all right? And don’t spill ice cream on the rugs.” The boy ran inside, and Stone turned to Rawls. “What is it?”

“You know the girl you met yesterday? Janey Harris?”

“Sure.”

“She didn’t come home from a friend’s house last night.”

“I was at the Dark Harbor Shop, and the soda jerk told me a little girl was missing. There were a lot of state cops in Jimmy’s office, and she said they’re organizing a search party.”

“I’m worried about her,” Rawls said. “You saw how upset she was yesterday?”

“Yes, I noticed that. Even more upset than her parents. You said she and Don were close.”

“Right, but there was more going on, I think.”

“What was going on?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve been thinking about this since I got the call about Janey a few minutes ago, and I think her disappearance has to be connected to Don’s death.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Remember where you are, boy. Things like this just don’t happen on this island. There are no perverts kidnapping seventeen-year-old girls on Islesboro.”

“Right, and no hitmen murdering ex-CIA officers and their families, either. Do you have any details of the girl’s disappearance?”

“Her mother told me Janey went to a friend’s house for dinner last night, and when she wasn’t home by ten o’clock, Martha called the house, and they said Janey had been gone for over an hour. The houses are only a quarter of a mile apart, and Janey would have walked home along the road. She had a flashlight. The Harrises went looking for her, and they found her flashlight in the road. That was all they found.”

“I don’t suppose there are bears on the island?”

“Not since before World War Two, and I doubt if she was attacked by raccoons.”

“What could possibly connect Janey’s disappearance with Don’s death?”

“All I can do is guess. Maybe they both knew something about somebody that they shouldn’t have known.”

“But what could they possibly know?”

“Maybe they found out who killed Dick and his family.”

“That seems farfetched; if Don had known something about that, he’d have told you, wouldn’t he?”

“He would have, if he’d lived through the night,” Rawls said. “Remember, he wanted to meet the next day, said he had something to tell me.”

“Why didn’t he just tell you on the phone when he called?”

“People in our line of work have a nicely developed aversion to passing important information on the phone. It’s not that he would have thought his line was tapped; it’s just that he would have been uncomfortable discussing something like that, except face to face.”

“But how does Janey come into it?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Rawls said. “I’m going to talk to everybody who clapped eyes on Don and Janey the day Don died. I should have done it sooner.” He got into the Range Rover and drove away.

Stone went back into the house. He wasn’t about to mention this to Arrington.

THEY HAD AN ESPECIALLY good dinner that evening: Seth had found some lobsters, and his wife had steamed them perfectly. There were clams, too, and corn on the cob, dripping with butter, and two bottles of a Beringer reserve chardonnay from Dick’s cellar.

After dinner they moved into the study, where Arrington removed a Scrabble board in a bookcase, and they played game after game until they were all sleepy. Arrington sent Peter to bed, and after a while, the adults drifted upstairs.

Stone and Arrington made wonderful love for nearly an hour, fueled by the good wine and good feeling from their evening, then they lay in each other’s arms, getting their breath back.

Stone stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead. “You know,” he said, “we really ought to start thinking about making this a more permanent relationship.”

Arrington sat up in bed and tucked her legs under her. “I’ve thought about that a lot,” she said, “and it wouldn’t work.”