Reunion at Red Paint Bay - By George Harrar Page 0,68
month.”
“The ones on the refrigerator?”
“You know about them?”
“Yeah, since we’re telling the truth, I kind of knocked the fish magnet off when I shut the door too hard and it broke on the floor. You can take it out of my allowance, if you want to.” He batted his eyelashes, a feminine trait, but apparently natural in his son.
“What did you do with the postcards?”
“They’re probably still on the floor next to the refrigerator.”
Such a simple explanation for the disappearance of the first two cards. Nothing mysterious, nothing sinister. “The reason I lied to you about getting wet is that I was out on the dock at Bayswater Inn that afternoon with the man sending the postcards and I got into an argument with him. I thought he’d hurt Mom, and I was very upset, so I hit him and he fell into the water.”
Davey rose up on the bed. “Wow, you mean that guy who’s missing, you knocked him into the water?”
“That’s the one. I jumped in to look for him, but I couldn’t find him.”
“So like he drowned?”
“I don’t know for sure what happened. They haven’t found him.”
“Wow, Dad,” Davey said again with what sounded more like excitement than worry. “They’re not going to arrest you or anything, are they, because you just hit him, you didn’t drown him. You even jumped in to save him, right?”
He had jumped in, dove to the bottom several times, the water so thick that he had to feel around in search of a body. Would that make a difference, his attempt at saving his victim, even if it came late?
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, kiddo. It’ll be up to the police when I tell them what I did. But people will know about it, I’m sure, and some kids might say things to you.”
“Like what?”
“Things about me.”
Davey balled up his small fists. “They better not or I’ll punch them.”
“No!” Simon said more loudly than he intended. “Aren’t you listening to me? That’s how I got into this trouble, punching someone. You have to be smarter than me.”
“You want me to turn the other cheek?” Davey said with disdain in his voice.
That was what Simon had meant, but he realized it was useless to phrase his advice that way. “I want you to be strong enough to walk away if kids hassle you, that’s what I’m telling you. Can you do that?”
“What if they keep walking after me and saying stuff about you, then can I punch them?”
“Under no circumstances are you to get into a fight over this, understand?”
“It’s awful hard not punching someone who deserves it.”
“I know,” Simon said, “believe me.”
Confessing once, Simon thought, would make the second time easier. But he didn’t find it so when the second person he had to confess to was Amy. He took her hands across the small round table in the back corner of the Surf Club, Red Paint’s finest fish restaurant, and most expensive. That’s why there were only a few couples sprinkled throughout the dining room overlooking the Common. You could count on a secluded table at the Surf Club on a weekday.
“You proposed to me like this,” she said.
Her comment confused him. “No, it was at that place on the harbor in Portland with the huge wreath made out of corks. Real classy.”
“The restaurant was different, but it was candlelight like this, a seafood place, the waiter had just cleared away our plates, and you reached across the table to take my hands. I knew you had something important to say.”
He remembered bringing out the engagement ring, the best $195 could buy, and trying to slip it on her. It was way too small. He couldn’t believe how much he had underestimated the size of her finger. “You said yes right away, no hesitation.”
“I was ready for the question. You were dropping hints for weeks.”
Would she be ready tonight? Could she possibly know what he would say? “I lied to you,” he said. She nodded, that was all, no other encouragement to keep him going. “I lied about Paul Walker.”
She pulled her hands back from him. “Oh God, Simon, you did kill him?”
He wished he could say no and wipe away the fears flooding her mind, but the answer was more complicated. “I got another postcard at the office telling me to come to the dock on Thursday. Paul Walker showed up, and he started saying crazy things about Jean Crane and me. Then he said he’d just