The Body in the Kelp by Katherine Hall Page

decided that she ought to drive into the village and see Jill. Faith didn’t know any of these people well, but for the short time she had been on Sanpere, she felt she had been caught up in their lives with a swiftness that surprised her. She knew Jill would be trying to get in touch with Eric, and she wasn’t sure what she could say about finding the body, but maybe they’d want to ask her something. It also seemed impossible to pick up a magazine and sit on the lawn after all this. She wanted to be with people.
    Pix wasn’t back—which Faith had expected. It was over an hour’s drive to the camp, and they’d stay awhile. The door was open and Faith went in to find some tape. If she left the note on the table, it was probable no one would find it until evening. Pix and Samantha would rush in, pee if they had to, and then rush
out to attack the weeds, chop firewood, or cut alders—whatever beckoned most furiously.
    She couldn’t find tape, but there were Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet, and with one of these Faith attached the sad missive to the door. Benjamin was happily pulling Pix’s yarn out of a basket next to the fireplace, and Faith managed to get to him just before he unraveled a few weeks’ worth of an Irish fisherman’s sweater for Danny.
    Back at her own cottage she was struck by the unreality of it all. They had just gone for a picnic. Had they really found a body in the kelp? She knew it was unfortunately true, but it was like one of those “What’s Wrong with This Picture?” puzzles. An incredible day—bright-blue skies, white puffy clouds, sailboats moving gracefully in the wind, the long stretch of gleaming sand, and the tidal pools filled with jewellike mysteries and Roger’s dead body.
    She grabbed Benjamin and headed for the car.
    Tom had taken their own car to New Hampshire, since a car came with the house. It was an old wooden station wagon—a 1949 Plymouth Suburban in “mint condition,” Tom had gloated as he stroked the side panels. While Faith had not arrived at the point where she felt the need to caress the car, she loved driving it. To her the romance of the Woody was a solid, dependable one, based on mutual trust and shared interests. The gears shifted smoothly and she sat up high, as if she were in a truck, with a clear view of the road. Today she didn’t pause to appreciate the car, backed out quickly, and set off down the long dirt road to the macadam that circled the island and led to Sanpere Village—the long way if you turned left, the short way if right. Faith turned right.
    She pulled up in front of Jill’s shop. Benjamin had fallen asleep in his car seat, waking drowsily when the car stopped. The shop was closed, but Faith knew Jill lived in the apartment over it and decided to go around back and knock. Jill came almost immediately. Her eyes were swollen and she was still crying. She was tucking a shirt into her jeans and was obviously getting ready to go someplace.

    â€œOh, Faith, I’m so glad you came. I’ve been calling you since I heard. I just can’t believe it. Roger was such a strong swimmer.” She began to sob, and Faith stepped into the back of the store and put her arms around her—quite a feat, since she was carrying Benjamin.
    â€œI don’t know anything about these waters, Jill. It may have been some kind of undertow.” She had no idea what an undertow was, but people usually said that in these situations, Faith recalled, and it was reassuring to blame Nature.
    Jill wasn’t really listening to Faith, which was understandable. She had stepped back and kept talking.
    â€œI’ve got to go to Eric. There’s no phone where he is, and anyway I don’t want him to hear the news from a stranger.” She turned to face Faith suddenly, fully taking in her presence for the first time. “Faith, tell me honestly, was the body in bad