else.
E DDIE WAS waiting on the lawn with a rubber ball between his feet. He looked down at the ball, then up at me, his face saying, “You know what to do here.”
I’d never seen the ball, which looked fairly new. I hoped it was scavenged and not an outright theft from a small child on the beach, not unprecedented.
We went out to the Adirondack chairs where Eddie could perform his Rin Tin Tin leap off the breakwater. I was pleased to see Amanda sitting in one of the other chairs, slumped down with her head back, pitcher of cosmopolitans and a bowl of red grapes on the side table. I tossed the ball hard down the pebble beach and sat next to her.
“Don’t let him fool you,” she said, without opening her eyes. “I’ve been throwing that ball for hours.”
“You can just say no.”
“I did. That’s when he went to wait for you. Sucker.”
“Where’d he get it?”
“Don’t know, but I heard wailing and assumed the worst.”
“How was your day?” I asked.
She scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue.
“I’d rather hear about yours.”
So I told her everything I could remember. It took awhile since I had to answer perfectly reasonable questions I hadn’t yet broached myself.
“Okay, so you had a worse day,” she said. “Now I feel like a fool.”
“It’s not a contest. We’re bad-day neutral here on Oak Point.”
I couldn’t see her very well in the pale moonlight, but I could sense her pulling back her thick hair to better see me.
“I find it hard to believe. It’s about the last thing I’d think our cops would do,” she said.
“You don’t know all our cops.”
“True.”
“And though it looks like Ross and Edith have handed us the keys to the realm, I don’t believe anything they say.”
“I recall you once saying, ‘Nothing is ever what it seems,’ ” she said.
“ ‘Nothing’ might be overstating the case.”
“You can’t possibly think Joe Sullivan is involved.”
“He better not be. We just spilled the whole pot of beans.”
“You told him?” she asked.
“We did. But if he’s dirty, we’ve been transported to an alternate universe, one not worth living in.”
“Speak for yourself. I might like it.”
“It seems like Edith and Ross want people on the outside, but we need people on the inside. Which has to be Joe Sullivan.”
“You like Danny Izard. Still a beat cop.”
“Exactly. Too far from the action. It has to be Sullivan. Anyway it’s too late to change course. The deed is done.”
Amanda put her head back against her Adirondack chair and closed her eyes. She stayed like that for so long, I thought she’d fallen asleep. I occupied myself drinking and watching for subtle changes in the Little Peconic’s ecosphere. So I was startled when Amanda, without moving, said quite clearly, “So what the hell is going on?”
I wanted to give her an entirely honest answer, so I thought a bit before answering the question.
“Unusual things are happening for sure, likely related, though maybe not. Everyone is suddenly behaving contrary to established norms. Unless I never really grasped those norms to begin with. There is almost no data, and no clear way to develop any, and the major players are either territorial, conspiratorial, manipulative, unreliable, or certifiably insane. Or all the above.”
“In other words, you haven’t a clue,” she said.
“I haven’t. All the more reason to refill the tumbler.”
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
C HAPTER S IX
T he next day I was deep into coping joints for the cherry molding I’d custom-shaped for the built-in china cabinet when Jackie trotted down into my shop through the basement hatch. She wore flip-flops and a yellow cotton dress over a wet two-piece bathing suit.
Her frizz-ball hair was partially air-dried and the bright summer sun seemed to have added a few hundred new freckles.
“Welcome, I think,” I said.
“You’re always glad to see me.”
She picked up a piece
E DDIE WAS waiting on the lawn with a rubber ball between his feet. He looked down at the ball, then up at me, his face saying, “You know what to do here.”
I’d never seen the ball, which looked fairly new. I hoped it was scavenged and not an outright theft from a small child on the beach, not unprecedented.
We went out to the Adirondack chairs where Eddie could perform his Rin Tin Tin leap off the breakwater. I was pleased to see Amanda sitting in one of the other chairs, slumped down with her head back, pitcher of cosmopolitans and a bowl of red grapes on the side table. I tossed the ball hard down the pebble beach and sat next to her.
“Don’t let him fool you,” she said, without opening her eyes. “I’ve been throwing that ball for hours.”
“You can just say no.”
“I did. That’s when he went to wait for you. Sucker.”
“Where’d he get it?”
“Don’t know, but I heard wailing and assumed the worst.”
“How was your day?” I asked.
She scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue.
“I’d rather hear about yours.”
So I told her everything I could remember. It took awhile since I had to answer perfectly reasonable questions I hadn’t yet broached myself.
“Okay, so you had a worse day,” she said. “Now I feel like a fool.”
“It’s not a contest. We’re bad-day neutral here on Oak Point.”
I couldn’t see her very well in the pale moonlight, but I could sense her pulling back her thick hair to better see me.
“I find it hard to believe. It’s about the last thing I’d think our cops would do,” she said.
“You don’t know all our cops.”
“True.”
“And though it looks like Ross and Edith have handed us the keys to the realm, I don’t believe anything they say.”
“I recall you once saying, ‘Nothing is ever what it seems,’ ” she said.
“ ‘Nothing’ might be overstating the case.”
“You can’t possibly think Joe Sullivan is involved.”
“He better not be. We just spilled the whole pot of beans.”
“You told him?” she asked.
“We did. But if he’s dirty, we’ve been transported to an alternate universe, one not worth living in.”
“Speak for yourself. I might like it.”
“It seems like Edith and Ross want people on the outside, but we need people on the inside. Which has to be Joe Sullivan.”
“You like Danny Izard. Still a beat cop.”
“Exactly. Too far from the action. It has to be Sullivan. Anyway it’s too late to change course. The deed is done.”
Amanda put her head back against her Adirondack chair and closed her eyes. She stayed like that for so long, I thought she’d fallen asleep. I occupied myself drinking and watching for subtle changes in the Little Peconic’s ecosphere. So I was startled when Amanda, without moving, said quite clearly, “So what the hell is going on?”
I wanted to give her an entirely honest answer, so I thought a bit before answering the question.
“Unusual things are happening for sure, likely related, though maybe not. Everyone is suddenly behaving contrary to established norms. Unless I never really grasped those norms to begin with. There is almost no data, and no clear way to develop any, and the major players are either territorial, conspiratorial, manipulative, unreliable, or certifiably insane. Or all the above.”
“In other words, you haven’t a clue,” she said.
“I haven’t. All the more reason to refill the tumbler.”
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
C HAPTER S IX
T he next day I was deep into coping joints for the cherry molding I’d custom-shaped for the built-in china cabinet when Jackie trotted down into my shop through the basement hatch. She wore flip-flops and a yellow cotton dress over a wet two-piece bathing suit.
Her frizz-ball hair was partially air-dried and the bright summer sun seemed to have added a few hundred new freckles.
“Welcome, I think,” I said.
“You’re always glad to see me.”
She picked up a piece
Similar Books
