went sailing with the Castles and Harlan’s best friend, Walter Binns, on Walter’s boat. And there was a barbecue. Despite some initial misgivings about their minivacation on the island, Brian seemed to have fun. In fact, he fell in love with sailing.
After Harlan proposed, Claire checked with Brian. “Is it all right with you?” she asked him, on the ferry coming back from their third trip to Deception Island. “Be honest. Speak now, or forever put a lid on it, kid.”
“Well, he’s Joe Serious, kind of a tight-ass, y’know? I mean, I’d like to see him get drunk and silly. Maybe then, he’d lighten up a bit.”
“Sorry, but that’s not going to happen. Harlan told me he used to have a drinking problem—after his wife died. But he conquered it. Now, he allows himself just one beer a day—before dinner, that’s it. I think that’s commendable. I’d rather have Joe Serious than a guy who gets drunk every night. So—aside from his general lack of silliness, do you have any other objections to Harlan?”
Brian shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter what I think. I’ll only be around a couple of years before I head off to college, You’re the one who has to live with him, Mom. Do you love this guy?”
“Not the same way I loved your father,” she admitted. “But I like him. He’s a good man. I can see myself living with him and being very content. I can see us living with him—if you can behave yourself and stay out of trouble. Do you think you can do that, honey?”
Brian nodded. “I’ll try, Mom,” he said. “I really will.”
So the first friend he made on Deception Island was Derek Herrmann, the check-stealer. They were off to a bang-up start.
But Claire had thought she could keep her son from sliding back to his old ways. She’d hoped Harlan would be a good influence on him.
The phone still in her lap, Claire stared out the window of her hospital room. She remembered Brian running away on those two previous occasions. Both times, he’d come back, promising he’d try harder to stay out of trouble and get along with Harlan. What had happened this last time? Why hadn’t he returned yet?
It seemed too much of a coincidence that Brian had run away, she’d disappeared, and Brian’s best friend, Derek Herrmann, had suddenly taken off for parts unknown in Europe—all within a twenty-four-hour period.
Brian had other friends. Claire consulted the car pool list. She’d call every mother on that list. One of them had to know something of Brian’s whereabouts.
Claire pulled herself out of the chair, and took the phone over to the windowsill. She dialed Becka Goodwyn’s number. While counting the ring tones, she noticed it drizzling outside. She watched the rain drops hit against the glass.
Then she saw him. He was just a blur, moving through a bald patch in the forest—just beyond the parking lot. He wore a black windbreaker and a hunter’s cap with the ear flaps. He held something in his hands. Claire couldn’t tell what it was. He peered up toward her window for a fleeting moment, then he ducked behind a tree. She didn’t get a good look at his face. The brim of his hunter’s cap obscured it.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Goodwyns,” she heard a recording on the other end of the line. Claire hung up.
Biting her lip, she stared out the rain-beaded window. The man was peeking around the tree. He held something up to his face, binoculars or a telescope of some kind. He was watching her.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured. She put down the car pool list. All the while, he was staring up at her with those binoculars. Or was it a camera? Claire stepped back from the window, and almost tripped over the phone cord. She made her way to the door and opened it.
The guard sprung up from his chair. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
She pointed toward the window. “I think someone’s spying on me. He’s down by the parking lot with binoculars or something…”
The guard grabbed his cellular
After Harlan proposed, Claire checked with Brian. “Is it all right with you?” she asked him, on the ferry coming back from their third trip to Deception Island. “Be honest. Speak now, or forever put a lid on it, kid.”
“Well, he’s Joe Serious, kind of a tight-ass, y’know? I mean, I’d like to see him get drunk and silly. Maybe then, he’d lighten up a bit.”
“Sorry, but that’s not going to happen. Harlan told me he used to have a drinking problem—after his wife died. But he conquered it. Now, he allows himself just one beer a day—before dinner, that’s it. I think that’s commendable. I’d rather have Joe Serious than a guy who gets drunk every night. So—aside from his general lack of silliness, do you have any other objections to Harlan?”
Brian shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t matter what I think. I’ll only be around a couple of years before I head off to college, You’re the one who has to live with him, Mom. Do you love this guy?”
“Not the same way I loved your father,” she admitted. “But I like him. He’s a good man. I can see myself living with him and being very content. I can see us living with him—if you can behave yourself and stay out of trouble. Do you think you can do that, honey?”
Brian nodded. “I’ll try, Mom,” he said. “I really will.”
So the first friend he made on Deception Island was Derek Herrmann, the check-stealer. They were off to a bang-up start.
But Claire had thought she could keep her son from sliding back to his old ways. She’d hoped Harlan would be a good influence on him.
The phone still in her lap, Claire stared out the window of her hospital room. She remembered Brian running away on those two previous occasions. Both times, he’d come back, promising he’d try harder to stay out of trouble and get along with Harlan. What had happened this last time? Why hadn’t he returned yet?
It seemed too much of a coincidence that Brian had run away, she’d disappeared, and Brian’s best friend, Derek Herrmann, had suddenly taken off for parts unknown in Europe—all within a twenty-four-hour period.
Brian had other friends. Claire consulted the car pool list. She’d call every mother on that list. One of them had to know something of Brian’s whereabouts.
Claire pulled herself out of the chair, and took the phone over to the windowsill. She dialed Becka Goodwyn’s number. While counting the ring tones, she noticed it drizzling outside. She watched the rain drops hit against the glass.
Then she saw him. He was just a blur, moving through a bald patch in the forest—just beyond the parking lot. He wore a black windbreaker and a hunter’s cap with the ear flaps. He held something in his hands. Claire couldn’t tell what it was. He peered up toward her window for a fleeting moment, then he ducked behind a tree. She didn’t get a good look at his face. The brim of his hunter’s cap obscured it.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Goodwyns,” she heard a recording on the other end of the line. Claire hung up.
Biting her lip, she stared out the rain-beaded window. The man was peeking around the tree. He held something up to his face, binoculars or a telescope of some kind. He was watching her.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured. She put down the car pool list. All the while, he was staring up at her with those binoculars. Or was it a camera? Claire stepped back from the window, and almost tripped over the phone cord. She made her way to the door and opened it.
The guard sprung up from his chair. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
She pointed toward the window. “I think someone’s spying on me. He’s down by the parking lot with binoculars or something…”
The guard grabbed his cellular
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