both of them could wash up here any minute.
Like the doll. "Did you ever get hold of George or Ellie?" she asked finally.
Bob shook his head. "I left a message at the hotel. They're already out on a bus tour of Rome. Turns out you need a special cell phone to get international calls, did you know that?"
Of course, Jake realized; no wonder trying to call Ellie on
her
cell hadn't worked. "They meant to rent an international cell phone over there," she put in. "Instead of buying one."
But maybe they'd forgotten, or the process had turned out to be more complicated than they'd thought.
"I said to have them call me as soon as they get in," Bob went on, "but the guy I told, his English wasn't so good, and my Italian—"
Bob speaking Italian was about as likely as one of those beach stones speaking it. He sighed heavily, pushed his thinning hair back off his forehead. "Meanwhile Helen Nevelson's boyfriend says from his hospital bed that he ain't got nothin’ to do with the bitch bein’ missing. Those are his words," the police chief added scathingly.
"And," he continued, "Jody Pierce hasn't said anything because I still can't find him. Although when he hears Helen's missing he'll turn up, Jerrilyn says. Jail's the least of what he'd go through for his stepdaughter, ‘ccording to his wife."
They reached Jefferson Street near where it dead-ended at the back gate of the Coast Guard building. He got into his car.
"The ladies from the churches are busy printing up flyers. They're gonna post ‘em around town, out along Route 1, everywhere they can think of. Jerri got a clearer picture of Helen for them to use, and I went in George and Ellie's house and found‘em a better one of Lee. Studio portrait, she's all face in it so you can really recognize…"
His voice trailed off while they both remembered the day the studio portrait was taken, Lee in a frilly dress she'd had to be coaxed and finally bribed into wearing. Then, "As for you…"
"I know. Stay out of it. It's okay to think of it, though, right?" she added, unable to keep the anger from her voice. "Sit around and torture myself about it, that's allowed?"
Thinking
Jesus. Her doll was in the water.
The cold water.
His face tightened, then relented. "Yeah, Jake. It's allowed. Required, I guess. Except the sitting around part, I don't think that's a very good idea. Which reminds me, Clarissa wondered if maybe you could do her a favor."
Jake never spoke that way to Bob. He was just trying to help, the way he always did. "Sorry. I just lost my…"
Temper. Composure. Mind. Choose one, or take all three.
He waved her outburst away before she could even finish apologizing for it.
"Forget it. I hear worse'n that most days before breakfast." Bob looked out at the water and the long, low reach of Campobello Island beyond. "Sam get that dory hauled okay?"
The question was both an olive branch and a genuine inquiry; he was fond of her troubled son and well versed in the ups and downs of the young man's life, many of which he had witnessed.
Or been involved in, when the downs were really bad. "Yes," she said. "After the lessons he gave me, he thought I might use it when he's away. But I told him I need more practice before I take it out alone, so it's out at the boatyard under a tarp."
Bob smiled indulgently. "Still kind of a landlubber, aren't you?"
That was putting it mildly. "Yeah. I don't know where he gothis seagoing tendencies from, but it wasn't me. And anyway, he's got lots of boats to think about in Portland. No sense him having to worry about the one here at home."
"I guess," Bob allowed. "Good move, him going down there," he added. "Plenty of work year-round in Portland for a fellow who knows boats. And even here, I never saw a kid take to the water like he does."
Bob paused. Then: "Going to meetings, is he?" he inquired mildly.
AA meetings, Bob meant. "Says he is. I mean, yes. At least once a day, sometimes more. But you know how that is."
That going today
Like the doll. "Did you ever get hold of George or Ellie?" she asked finally.
Bob shook his head. "I left a message at the hotel. They're already out on a bus tour of Rome. Turns out you need a special cell phone to get international calls, did you know that?"
Of course, Jake realized; no wonder trying to call Ellie on
her
cell hadn't worked. "They meant to rent an international cell phone over there," she put in. "Instead of buying one."
But maybe they'd forgotten, or the process had turned out to be more complicated than they'd thought.
"I said to have them call me as soon as they get in," Bob went on, "but the guy I told, his English wasn't so good, and my Italian—"
Bob speaking Italian was about as likely as one of those beach stones speaking it. He sighed heavily, pushed his thinning hair back off his forehead. "Meanwhile Helen Nevelson's boyfriend says from his hospital bed that he ain't got nothin’ to do with the bitch bein’ missing. Those are his words," the police chief added scathingly.
"And," he continued, "Jody Pierce hasn't said anything because I still can't find him. Although when he hears Helen's missing he'll turn up, Jerrilyn says. Jail's the least of what he'd go through for his stepdaughter, ‘ccording to his wife."
They reached Jefferson Street near where it dead-ended at the back gate of the Coast Guard building. He got into his car.
"The ladies from the churches are busy printing up flyers. They're gonna post ‘em around town, out along Route 1, everywhere they can think of. Jerri got a clearer picture of Helen for them to use, and I went in George and Ellie's house and found‘em a better one of Lee. Studio portrait, she's all face in it so you can really recognize…"
His voice trailed off while they both remembered the day the studio portrait was taken, Lee in a frilly dress she'd had to be coaxed and finally bribed into wearing. Then, "As for you…"
"I know. Stay out of it. It's okay to think of it, though, right?" she added, unable to keep the anger from her voice. "Sit around and torture myself about it, that's allowed?"
Thinking
Jesus. Her doll was in the water.
The cold water.
His face tightened, then relented. "Yeah, Jake. It's allowed. Required, I guess. Except the sitting around part, I don't think that's a very good idea. Which reminds me, Clarissa wondered if maybe you could do her a favor."
Jake never spoke that way to Bob. He was just trying to help, the way he always did. "Sorry. I just lost my…"
Temper. Composure. Mind. Choose one, or take all three.
He waved her outburst away before she could even finish apologizing for it.
"Forget it. I hear worse'n that most days before breakfast." Bob looked out at the water and the long, low reach of Campobello Island beyond. "Sam get that dory hauled okay?"
The question was both an olive branch and a genuine inquiry; he was fond of her troubled son and well versed in the ups and downs of the young man's life, many of which he had witnessed.
Or been involved in, when the downs were really bad. "Yes," she said. "After the lessons he gave me, he thought I might use it when he's away. But I told him I need more practice before I take it out alone, so it's out at the boatyard under a tarp."
Bob smiled indulgently. "Still kind of a landlubber, aren't you?"
That was putting it mildly. "Yeah. I don't know where he gothis seagoing tendencies from, but it wasn't me. And anyway, he's got lots of boats to think about in Portland. No sense him having to worry about the one here at home."
"I guess," Bob allowed. "Good move, him going down there," he added. "Plenty of work year-round in Portland for a fellow who knows boats. And even here, I never saw a kid take to the water like he does."
Bob paused. Then: "Going to meetings, is he?" he inquired mildly.
AA meetings, Bob meant. "Says he is. I mean, yes. At least once a day, sometimes more. But you know how that is."
That going today
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