night.
“Coke,” Ned ordered, sliding onto the stool on Linc’s other side.
The bartender served them speedily.
Linc slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the scarred wooden bar. “You seen a pregnant woman around today?” he asked. “Someone from out of town?”
The man frowned. “Can’t say I have.”
“She’s real pregnant.” For emphasis Mel held both hands in front of his stomach.
“Then I definitely didn’t,” Santa informed them.
“She arrived by foot ferry,” Ned told him. “Probably sometime midmorning.”
“Sorry,” Santa murmured. “I didn’t start my shift until three.” He rested his bulk against the counter and called out, “Anyone here see a pregnant gal come off the foot ferry this morning?”
The two men playing pool shook their heads. The other patrons stopped their conversation, glanced at Linc and his brothers, then went back to whatever they were discussing.
“Doesn’t look like anyone else did either,” the bartender said.
The brothers huddled over their drinks. “What we gotta do,” Mel suggested, “is figure out what her agenda would be.”
“She came to find David’s parents,” Ned reminded them. “ That’s her agenda.”
“True.” Okay, they both had a point. Turning back to the bartender, Linc caught his attention. “You know any people named Rhodes in the area?”
Santa nodded as he wiped a beer mug. “Several.”
“This is an older couple. They have a son named David.”
The bartender frowned. “Oh, I know David. He stiffed me on a sixty-dollar tab.”
Yeah, they were talking about the same guy, all right. “What about his parents?”
“Ben and Charlotte,” Santa told them. “Really decent people. I don’t have anything good to say about their son, though.”
“Where do they live?”
“I’m not sure.”
Looking around, Linc saw a pay phone near the restrooms. “I’ll check if Ben Rhodes is in the phone book,” he said, leaving his stool.
“Sounds like a plan,” Santa muttered.
Linc removed the phone book from a small shelf. The entire directory was only half an inch thick. The Seattle phone book had a bigger section just of government agencies than the entire Cedar Cove White and Yellow Pages. He quickly found the listing for Ben and Charlotte Rhodes, then copied down the phone number and address.
“Got it,” he announced triumphantly.
“Should we call?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Mel asked. He walked back to the bar and downed the last of his beer.
“I don’t want to give Mary Jo a heads-up that we’re in town. I think the best thing to do is take her by surprise.”
Ned nodded, although he seemed a bit uncertain.
Linc thanked the bartender, got some general directions and collected his change. He left a generous tip; it was Christmas Eve, after all. Then he marched toward the door, his brothers scrambling after him.
In the parking lot again, Linc climbed into the truck and started the engine. He’d noticed that Harbor Street angled up the hill. He guessed David’s parents’ street wasn’t far from this main thoroughfare. Trusting his instincts, he returned to the traffic signal, took a left and followed the road until it intersected with Pelican Court.
Within five minutes of leaving the tavern, Linc was parked outside Ben and Charlotte Rhodes’s house.
The porch light was on, which boded well, and there appeared to be a light on inside, too. The house was a solid two-story dwelling, about the same age as the one he shared with his brothers in Seattle. White Christmas lights were strung along the roofline and the bushes were lighted, too. There was a manger scene on the front lawn.
“This is a neat town,” Mel said. “Did you see they have an art gallery? We passed it a couple of minutes ago.”
“When did you get so interested in art?” Linc asked.
“I like art,” Mel muttered.
“Since when?”
“Since now. You want to make something of it?”
“No,” Linc said, puzzled by his brother’s
“Coke,” Ned ordered, sliding onto the stool on Linc’s other side.
The bartender served them speedily.
Linc slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the scarred wooden bar. “You seen a pregnant woman around today?” he asked. “Someone from out of town?”
The man frowned. “Can’t say I have.”
“She’s real pregnant.” For emphasis Mel held both hands in front of his stomach.
“Then I definitely didn’t,” Santa informed them.
“She arrived by foot ferry,” Ned told him. “Probably sometime midmorning.”
“Sorry,” Santa murmured. “I didn’t start my shift until three.” He rested his bulk against the counter and called out, “Anyone here see a pregnant gal come off the foot ferry this morning?”
The two men playing pool shook their heads. The other patrons stopped their conversation, glanced at Linc and his brothers, then went back to whatever they were discussing.
“Doesn’t look like anyone else did either,” the bartender said.
The brothers huddled over their drinks. “What we gotta do,” Mel suggested, “is figure out what her agenda would be.”
“She came to find David’s parents,” Ned reminded them. “ That’s her agenda.”
“True.” Okay, they both had a point. Turning back to the bartender, Linc caught his attention. “You know any people named Rhodes in the area?”
Santa nodded as he wiped a beer mug. “Several.”
“This is an older couple. They have a son named David.”
The bartender frowned. “Oh, I know David. He stiffed me on a sixty-dollar tab.”
Yeah, they were talking about the same guy, all right. “What about his parents?”
“Ben and Charlotte,” Santa told them. “Really decent people. I don’t have anything good to say about their son, though.”
“Where do they live?”
“I’m not sure.”
Looking around, Linc saw a pay phone near the restrooms. “I’ll check if Ben Rhodes is in the phone book,” he said, leaving his stool.
“Sounds like a plan,” Santa muttered.
Linc removed the phone book from a small shelf. The entire directory was only half an inch thick. The Seattle phone book had a bigger section just of government agencies than the entire Cedar Cove White and Yellow Pages. He quickly found the listing for Ben and Charlotte Rhodes, then copied down the phone number and address.
“Got it,” he announced triumphantly.
“Should we call?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Mel asked. He walked back to the bar and downed the last of his beer.
“I don’t want to give Mary Jo a heads-up that we’re in town. I think the best thing to do is take her by surprise.”
Ned nodded, although he seemed a bit uncertain.
Linc thanked the bartender, got some general directions and collected his change. He left a generous tip; it was Christmas Eve, after all. Then he marched toward the door, his brothers scrambling after him.
In the parking lot again, Linc climbed into the truck and started the engine. He’d noticed that Harbor Street angled up the hill. He guessed David’s parents’ street wasn’t far from this main thoroughfare. Trusting his instincts, he returned to the traffic signal, took a left and followed the road until it intersected with Pelican Court.
Within five minutes of leaving the tavern, Linc was parked outside Ben and Charlotte Rhodes’s house.
The porch light was on, which boded well, and there appeared to be a light on inside, too. The house was a solid two-story dwelling, about the same age as the one he shared with his brothers in Seattle. White Christmas lights were strung along the roofline and the bushes were lighted, too. There was a manger scene on the front lawn.
“This is a neat town,” Mel said. “Did you see they have an art gallery? We passed it a couple of minutes ago.”
“When did you get so interested in art?” Linc asked.
“I like art,” Mel muttered.
“Since when?”
“Since now. You want to make something of it?”
“No,” Linc said, puzzled by his brother’s
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