Grave Deeds (15 page)

“It's for the best.” Bonnie grabbed his hand and tried to
draw him down to her. He refused to bend.

“We want to go home, Megan and I. Back to Ottawa.”

“Don't you love me?” She shook his hand so hard that he swayed on his feet. “I'm your mother. Don't you want to be with your own mother?”

Someone banged on the back door. We froze, staring at each other. There wasn't time for Bonnie or Ryan to hide, nor, for that matter, any place to hide them. The boy's face blanched, and now he did fall to his knees beside his mother. She put her arm around him and squeezed him to her.

“I won't let them go,” she hissed.

Will stood. “It's probably Marilyn. At last.” He went down the hall to open the door.

“Hey there.” It was Hank. “You figured out a way to get in.”

He pushed past Will and strutted into the room. In his long green waterproof cape, hat with a wide brim turned up on one side, and knee-high black rubber boots, he looked like a buccaneer — and he knew it. He stopped when he caught sight of Bonnie.

Will's face appeared over his shoulder. He shrugged in answer to my look which plainly asked why he had let Hank in.

“What's she doing here?” Hank asked.

“This is my friend, Bonnie Hazlitt,” I said. “And her son, Ryan. Bonnie, Ryan, this is my … my cousin, Hank McDonnel.”

Bonnie glared at Hank. She had her arm around Ryan, holding his face tight against her shoulder.

“You scared us,” she said. “Banging on the door like that.”

“Who did you think it was? Police?” He looked at the bottle and glasses. “I could do with a drink.”

“What do you want?” I asked him. “And how did you get here? I didn't hear any car.”

He grinned. “I come by boat. I've got a camp along the lake a bit and it's easier to get here by water than through the woods. I figured you might need this to get in.” He held up a key. “Marilyn leaves one with us up at the store.”

Bonnie stood suddenly, pulling Ryan to his feet with her. “You'll excuse us. It's been a long day. We're going to bed.” She pushed the boy past the two men. “Good-night Rosie, Will.” The door slammed behind them.

“Friendly, isn't she? Not!” Hank took off his hat. “What about that drink, eh?”

“You waited long enough to bring us the key,” Will grumbled. “We would have been pretty wet and cold by now if we hadn't found a way in.”

“And just what way was that?” Hank glanced towards the porch. “Marilyn said she left the place locked up.”

“You talked to her?” I stood up.

“Not her. The friend she's with called.”

“Where is she? Is she all right?”

“You don't need to worry about Marilyn. She can look after herself. She'll be here sometime tomorrow.” He looked around the room. “Seems like you've made yourselves comfortable. Found everything?”

Will and I glanced at each other. Could he possibly be hinting that he knew what was under the bed?

Will said. “We're fine. In fact, we were about to turn in ourselves.”

“Marilyn won't like you being in her room. In her bed. She's particular about her privacy.”

“We wouldn't dream of it,” I snapped. “We're going to sleep out here. If it's any business of yours.”

“Is it your business?” Will asked. He stared hard at Hank until the boy turned away, his hand brushing across his mouth.

“It's just Marilyn,” he muttered. “She's a private sort of person.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Will said.

Hank replaced his hat. “I can see I'm not welcome. So much for thanking the messenger.”

“Are you going back on the lake in the dark?” I asked. “Aren't you nervous?”

“I can get around here blindfolded. It's in the blood.”

“Thanks for bringing us the key. If Marilyn had left us a note, you wouldn't have had to come out on such a night.”

“A little bad weather doesn't bother me.” He gestured towards the sofa. “You're going to sleep on that?” When we
nodded, he added, “Sweet dreams, then.”

Will slammed the bolt home on the door behind him. “Good riddance,” he said. “What are you up to?”

I was about to knock on the second bedroom door. “I haven't finished talking to Bonnie.” I didn't bother keeping my voice low. I wanted her to hear what I had to say.

“Haven't we all had enough tonight?” Will slumped against the wall.

“She's using those poor kids just as much as Harold is, for her own needs, not theirs. Someone has to show her that before it's too late.”

I heard rustling behind the door, but it didn't open. Will heard it too.

“Let's give it a rest,” he yawned elaborately. “I'm beat and so's Bonnie, I'll bet. Things will look different in the morning. Calmer.”

“That's a cop-out.” I yawned too, in spite of myself.

Will put his arm around me. “In the morning, when everyone's had a good rest.” He leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “She won't be taking those kids anywhere else tonight. And we should give her a chance to sober up.”

I trailed him back into the living room. He was already shifting the coffee table and pushing the sofa back to make room to pull out the mattress. I unrolled the sleeping bags and zipped them together to make a double bag.

“Oh, no,” he pointed to the mattress. It was studded with rows of neat circles where the springs strained the fabric. “I'll get the quilt from Marilyn's bed to cushion them a bit.”

I stretched. My head felt fuzzy. I wasn't used to drinking hard liquor. Wine and beer are more my style. “I'm going out on the porch for a minute. I need some fresh air.”

The rain had let up at last, but a small wind continued to wring water in a steady dribble onto the roof. A full moon appeared fitfully between clouds. A motor roared, then settled into a steady puffing as Hank's boat headed down river. Far off over the darkness that was the lake, a loon cried out, the breathless gasp at the end of a long dying fall. Its ghost voice was answered by another and then another. Will came out to listen.

“It's so quiet here,” he said. “You can't even hear the highway.”

“And no boats on the lake, now that Hank's gone. Your parents' lake is so noisy, might as well be on the 401.”

“It would be a shame to spoil it with speedboats and jet skis.”

“I hate those things. They sound like dentists' drills on the water.”

Will put his arms around me. I leaned back against the solid trunk of his body, feeling safe. The loons stopped calling but the night was alive with skitterings under the trees, the whisper of leaves overhead.

“Let's go to bed,” he whispered into my hair.

We stripped quickly and snuggled for warmth. I wrapped my legs around his. His mouth was on my breast. As our bodies shifted, turning into each other, the bed frame began to squeak. We stopped moving.

My eyes had adjusted to the dark. I could see Will's face below mine, his mouth quirked in a smile.

“It's kind of noisy,” I whispered.

“You think they're asleep yet?”

“I don't know.”

We kissed again. The bed began to thump the floor in rhythm. I began to laugh, trying to smother my giggles against Will's bare shoulder. After a moment, he laughed too.

I flopped down beside him. The bed protested.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I can't… with this bed and them in the next room.”

“It's like camp. Sneaking around.”

“Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

We rolled spoon fashion, his arms around me, his breath soon even against my neck. It took me much longer to fall asleep.

Something bumped against the cottage wall.

I was awake, straining to see through the dark.

Bump again. A dragging slide.

“Will.” I poked him in the ribs. “Will. Wake up.”

He moaned and rolled over.

“Will.”

“What is it?”

“There's someone outside.”

“What?” He was awake now, rubbing his eyes, yawning.

“Listen.”

A moment later, it came again. A thump, a drag, a dry cough.

Will sat up and reached for his pants. I grabbed my glasses and shirt.

“He's around the back.” Will said. “We can sneak out through the front door and corner him.”

“You think it's Hank?”

“Could be. He might be trying to give us a scare.”

“Why?”

“Who knows?” Even in the dark, I sensed Will's shrug. “This is turning out to be some night.”

We tiptoed out to the porch and eased the screen door open. It was a long step down to the granite ledge. The rock was cold on my bare feet, and slippery with the rain.

Will squeezed my hand and pointed along the front of the cottage. “I'll wait here till you reach the far corner,” he whispered. “If we both appear at the same time, we'll take him by surprise.”

I ran past the picture windows, pausing at the corner to wave to Will. He waved back, then slipped into the shadows of the porch.

I took a deep breath and scooted around to the back door.

At first I thought it was a bear standing there on all fours, rubbing itself against the wall beneath Marilyn's bedroom window.

“Bossie,” Will shouted. “Get out of there. Coo-ee.”

He slapped a stick against a rock. That startled the cow. She lifted her head and lowed.

Another answered right behind me. I jumped, turning in mid-air. Close up, these cows were huge. And they had horns.

“What'll we do?” I shouted to Will.

“Chase 'em.”

He walked right up and whacked the cow nearest him on the rear. She leaped, her tail slashing. For a moment, I thought she would run him down, but she turned away towards the drive.

“Don't let them go round the front. We've got to herd them down the road through the gate.” Will slapped the cow
again. She broke into a trot, tossing her head and moaning.

I waved my arms and jumped up and down. The animal in front of me shook its head from side to side. I wondered if it was a bull. I also wondered where I could run to if it decided to chase me.

It raised its tail and pissed. The stink rose in the darkness.

“Get,” I screamed at it. “Move.”

“What's happening?” Bonnie opened the back door.

“Cows,” I told her. “Didn't you close the gate at the end of the driveway?”

“Is that what it was for?”

The cows decided that three humans were too many. They lumbered down the hill towards the car. Will followed, whipping his switch and calling over and over, “Hoo, Bossie. Go, Bossie.” His bare torso gleamed white in the moonlight. “Get the flashlight, Rosie,” he called back over his shoulder. “And my shirt. It's freezing out here.”

I brushed past Bonnie on my way to the livingroom.

She grabbed my arm to stop me. “Rosie.”

“What now? Can't you see we're busy?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought the kids here.”

“It's a little late for that. Will was right: we'll talk in the morning.”

“I just didn't know what else to do. We had to pass this way; it was so late, the kids kept arguing…” Her voice rose.

“It's okay, Bonnie.” I could hear Will herding the cows down the drive. The flashlight was on the kitchen table. I pulled free of her grasp and scooped it up, along with Will's shirt which he'd dropped on the floor on his side of the sofa.

“You might as well go back to bed,” I added. “It may take a while to get all the cows back on the other side of the fence.”

Even as I spoke, a cow galloped past the picture window out front, Will stumbling along behind it. “Rosie,” he yelled. “Where are you?”

“Coming,” I called. “Get some rest,” I suggested. Bonnie grabbed my arm.

“It's just…” she began. “Well, it's that boy who was here. Who was he?”

“Hank? He's a cousin twice removed, or something. Why?”

“I thought I recognized him.” No longer talking about her
own problems, her voice grew stronger.

“I can't imagine where … did you stop at that corner store on the way up? He works there, for his grandfather.”

“No, we came straight here.”

“How did you know where to find us? We almost missed the turn, even with the map.”

“I told you I'd been up to this lake before. I remembered Roger showing us the road to this place. It's got quite a local reputation, you know.”

“I didn't know.”

She waved her hand airily. “Everyone used to talk about the haunted house and family feud between the McDonnels and Bakers. And people used to come down the lake to get Mrs. Baker to tell their fortunes. She was quite a character.”

“You met her? Why didn't you tell me?”

“It was just the one time. I'd forgotten about it until you showed me the map. But what I wanted to tell you was that I'm sure I've seen that boy before, at the museum.”

“Hank? He doesn't seem the type to be interested in dinosaurs.”

“Oh, he wasn't a tourist. And he wasn't in the galleries. He had an appointment with one of the archaeologists.”

“Are you sure?”

“I couldn't mistake that hair.”

“He must have been going to see someone, maybe about the relics …”

“What relics?” Her eyes brightened, curious.

“Rosie,” Will called. He sounded very angry.

“Tell me.” She grabbed my arm.

I shook her off. “Later. When Marilyn gets here. It's her business. I've got to go help Will.”

“Do you mean Indian relics? Pottery? Bones?”

“Yeah, that sort of stuff. Look, later, okay?”

“Where are they?”

“Rosie, will you please come and help?” Will was at the back door, switch in his hand, mud spattering his good pants.