Read Online The Summer Guest by Justin Cronin - Free Book Online

“Please hold for Mr. Wainwright,” meaning Hal. I had made a picture in my mind of an older woman with bifocals, which was, of course, completely incorrect: the woman whose hand I shook was no older than thirty-five, with a mane of black hair and a miniskirt figure. At least I had been right about the glasses, though hers were shaped like eggs and made of a material that was either gold or silver, depending on which way she turned her head under the fluorescent lights.
    “He’s being nice,” she said. “I don’t know a thing. Except where the bodies are buried. Can I get you coffee or water, Mr. Crosby?”
    Hal frowned. “You still do that?”
    “Only for people I like. How about it, Mr. Crosby?”
    “It’s Joe, please. And no, thank you.”
    “That must be some place you have up there in Maine. Hal and Sally just rave about it.”
    I shrugged. “I’m a lucky man.”
    “Luckier than you may know,” Hal said. He poked a thumb across the hall. “Okay, enough love. Let’s get this thing rolling. We’re actually set up in the conference room.”
    “The conference room,” I said. I looked at Zoe. “Sounds pretty fancy.”
    “Just how we do things around here,” Hal said. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Joe? We’re trying to impress you.”
    Sally was waiting for us, wearing a lawyerish blue suit and seated on the far side of a long table. A handshake seemed wrong, so I gave her a hug and stepped back to look at her. Hal was a good-looking fellow by any estimation, but his marriage was a fair fight: even dressed for court, Sally was about the prettiest woman who crossed my path with any regularity.
    “Looks like motherhood suits you, Sally. How about a picture?”
    She smiled at my request. “Well, as it so happens…”
    Out came her wallet, and the snapshot everyone has: a fat, happy baby, so plump she had creases in the middle of her forearms. They’d put one of those frilly little headbands on her so people would know she was a girl, a nervous touch I liked.
    “She’s just beautiful,” I said. “Good for you.”
    Sally took the photo from me and returned it to her wallet. “That’s already way out of date. She’s walking now, gets into everything. Hal spent the weekend baby-proofing the apartment.”
    “You did that, Hal?”
    He grinned self-consciously, though I could tell he was proud of himself. “Bet you didn’t know I was so handy.”
    “Come up this August, there’s plenty of work for you if you want it.”
    “Don’t laugh, Joe,” Hal said. “I just might take you up on that.”
    We took our places, Hal and Sally on one side of the wide table, myself on the other. The room was all business-just the table, a huge gleaming slab of a thing, and behind Hal, a second, smaller table with a computer and a telephone. On the table between us sat a water pitcher and glasses, and a single manila folder, which Hal opened.
    “Okay, the first thing to say here, for the record, is that Sally is present in her capacity as my father’s personal attorney. The offer my father wants to make to you is a personal one, not one connected to the company. All right with that?”
    I nodded. “Sure. Seems clear.”
    “Just so long as it’s understood.” Hal poured himself a glass of water. “Anyway, I might as well cut straight to it. Here’s the deal. My father wants to make an offer for the camp, Joe. He wants to buy it, I mean. And he wants to do it right away, or as soon as possible.”
    This was, of course, exactly what I’d figured on. The plane, the peanuts, the limo ride: a hundred other things besides, and at the end of the day, a man who scouts the water for his living knows things in his gut, as I’d known this.
    “What’s he offering?”
    Hal raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised, Joe.”
    “I’m not. It’s all right.”
    He sipped the water. “What’s all right?”
    “All right, I’m listening.” I nodded at Hal and Sally in turn. “If the offer’s a good