Cry for the Strangers Page 0,106

particularly.” He picked up the folder containing Chip’s report on the vandalism at Glen Palmer’s gallery. “So don’t expect me to do anything about this. I won’t find anything—anybody could have done it and there’s nothing to look for. If I were you I’d forget it. You just tell Palmer, if he wants to stay in Clark’s Harbor, he’d better expect things like this.”

Chip nodded his head absently and started to leave. But before he got to the door he remembered something and turned back.

“Did you see Doc Phelps yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Whalen said the word tonelessly, as if there were nothing more to add, but Chip pressed him.

“Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing he could find. I just didn’t feel very well the other night, so I decided to have him take a look. Must have been indigestion.”

Whalen wondered briefly why he was lying to Chip, why he didn’t want to tell Chip about his “spells,” then decided it was just none of Chip’s business. Besides, the spells weren’t serious. If Phelps couldn’t find out what was causing them there wasn’t any point in talking about them.

“Well, if you need me call me on the radio. I’m going to give Glen Palmer a hand today, but I’ll leave the radio open.”

Whalen scowled at his deputy. “I don’t suppose it’s any of my business what you do on your days off, but I think you’re wasting your time. You get involved with Palmer and you’ll get in trouble.”

“I don’t see how,” Chip said, annoyed at Whalen.

“That’s the way it happens, that’s all,” Harney said flatly. He pulled a file from the top drawer of his desk, and opened it, as if to dismiss Chip.

But as the door to his office closed behind his deputy, Harney Whalen looked up from the file he had been pretending to be reading. His eyes fastened vacantly on the closed door but he didn’t really see it. Instead he saw Chip’s face, but it was not quite the face he knew so well. There was something different about the face Harney Whalen visualized.

Something strange.

That was it, he thought to himself.

Chip’s become a stranger to me.

Then he put the thought aside and returned to the file in front of him.

“Want a beer?” Glen asked as Brad came through the front door. He and Chip were leaning against one of the display cases admiring their work. The mess was gone, the shelves were back up, and all but one of the display cases had been repaired.

“I thought you said it was destroyed,” Brad said, puzzled.

“I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Glen replied a little sheepishly. “Not that I could have fixed it myself, of course.”

“He’s been fussing around, getting in the way all day,” Chip said. “I told him to go out and paint a picture but he wouldn’t.”

“Well, if you can get along without him I’ll drag him down to the library with me.”

“The library?” Chip asked. “What’s at the library?”

Brad glanced at Glen and Glen nodded his head. “If he doesn’t think I’m crazy,” he said, “he’s not likely to think you are.” He turned to Chip. “Brad has a theory about what’s going on around here.”

“It has to do with the storms,” Brad said. “They seem to affect Glen’s son and I’m wondering if they might be affecting somebody else too.”

Chip frowned, puzzled. “I don’t get it.”

“I’m not sure I do either,” Brad said. “But it just seems as though too many ‘accidents’ have happened out here. I’m just trying to find out if they really are accidents.”

“You mean the drownings?” Chip asked.

“Not just the drownings,” Glen answered. “There’s also what happened here, and Miriam Shelling, and my dog. It all just seems like too much.”

“I don’t know what you think you’ll find out,” Chip said. “Harney Whalen sure doesn’t seem too interested.”

“What does he think is going on?” Glen asked carefully. He’d learned to be careful with Chip on the subject of Whalen.

“He seems to think it’s some kind of fate, or an old Klickashaw curse or something. He says whenever strangers come to Clark’s Harbor trouble comes with them, but that it always turns back on them.”

“Makes things simple anyway,” Brad commented.

“Yeah,” Chip said, a little uncomfortably. He glanced around the gallery and set his empty beer can down. “Tell you what,” he suggested to Glen. “If Brad wants you to help him, why don’t we call it a day? I’ll go down to Blake’s and pick up what we need to finish this