Cape Cod Noir - By David L Ulin Page 0,22
the fire.”
The girl straightened herself, jutted her chin out. “I didn’t. I have money, I can pay my way, I just need help—”
“Money you stole.” Her sureness, her lack of servility, immediately set Anna against her.
Clarissa shook her head. “My own,” she said haughtily. “I stole nothing.”
“Show me.”
The girl unknotted a stained handkerchief. It was filled with small coins, the sort of sum accumulated with great care over a long time. A pair of new pieces of silver shone among them.
Anna took a step forward and slapped the girl twice, hard. “Those two you stole.”
Clarissa’s face burned, but she held Anna’s stare. “It’s mostly my own, with whatever was in the man’s pockets. Exactly what I was owed—and if I kept the stillery running, shouldn’t I have my wages? He wouldn’t pay me.”
“So you killed him?”
“An accident. In defense of my own person, when he tried to take advantage. And when I saw he didn’t get up, I knew I’d have to leave here forever. He had no more use for the money.”
“And the fire?”
“I know nothing about it, I swear.”
Anna waited for the truth.
Clarissa relented. “The door opened, another man came in. I hid. I watched him pull apart the still and strike a light to a barrel of spirits. I got out as soon as I could.” She shivered. “I was not certain he would ever leave, he stared at the flames so.” She held out the money again. “I only need help. I can pay!”
“Why come here?”
“You stood out, on your way to church. With your fine clothes and cloak, you weren’t here to stay. I thought you might need a lady’s maid. And you’re a stranger.”
“I dined with Mr. Stratton tonight. A stranger to these parts, but not unknown.”
The girl blanched. “Then let me leave.”
Anna turned, and barred the door. “Sit. I may have use for you.”
She glanced at Dolly, cold and mute on the table, as she reached for her Bible. She let the book fall open where it would, and began to read in Proverbs, the twentieth verse of the twenty-sixth chapter: Where no wood is, there the fire goeth out; so where there is no talebearer, the strife ceases.
Anna sighed and stared at Clarissa, who’d not moved all the while. She’d admitted killing Stratton’s man, and had been at the fire. She had a grievance against Stratton.
Anna needed to save Bram from Stratton. She opened a trunk, studied the bottles there, selected one, and left the girl in the room, locking the door behind her.
Anna could not see for the tears in her eyes as she stumbled toward Bram’s shack, splashing along the sandy shore. The salt water soaked her skirts, making them heavier and heavier, as if clutching fingers were dragging her down. The more she moved, the more difficult it became, but she slogged on until she reached the path. She sat exhausted, on a vertebra of one of the great whales they fished and slaughtered here; the place was never free of the stench. She stared at the moon, wishing it would strike her blind or remove the terrible choices before her. A few miles to the east was the wild ocean, stretching for a world away, seething, chaotic. Here, calmer waters separated her and home and all she knew too well. She sat between them to choose.
She could not hand Bram to Seaver.
She could not abandon the Queen’s Arms, leave with Bram, forsake what she had. It was little enough, but hard-won and more than she’d ever dreamed of.
She thought for another hour, shivering under the moonlight. She got up heavily and walked toward the shack where Bram was sleeping. She unlatched the door, now knowing the trick of keeping it silent, and pulled it closed behind her. She watched him by the light of a guttering candle, asleep on the old pallet, snoring, as she struggled with the hooks and lacings of her sodden clothes. With patient fingers she worked; then, naked and numb, she slipped under the covers next to him.
He stirred, shuddered awake, but smiled when he saw her. “I was dreaming of you. And now you’re here, conjured from the sea.” He started. “You’re cold as the grave—”
She put her hand on his mouth and climbed on top of him, feeling his warm body beneath her.
An hour later, when it was quiet and they could hear the wintry rain on the roof of the shed, Bram kissed Anna on the back of the neck.
In response,