The Sense of Reckoning (22 page)

The two of them jogged off toward the greenhouses and in a minute their truck passed the group and disappeared down the drive.

The remaining men looked at each other uncomfortably, then one of the older ones shrugged. “I ain’t got no family and I live in a boarding house—if the fire gets it, no skin off my teeth. We’re getting paid for this, right?”

They took turns climbing the ladder and hosing down the roof, waiting like children around a broken vase for the parent to show up. Eventually, Pritchard emerged with a box. He scanned the group.

“Where are Sean and Mel?”

“Left to take care of their own,” said the older man mildly.

Pritchard shook his head, his lips tight. “Well, we got most of the roof wetted, we can keep it wet with a smaller crew. Lynam, bring your truck around.”

Pritchard handed the box over to Chip with all the usual cautions, then Chip drove into Bar Harbor, which was crowded with Army vehicles, soldiers, and firefighters, official and unofficial. Most of the stores were closed, but people wandered through the streets, anxious-looking but not panicked. Chip dropped the box off at the Express Office on Cottage Street, which was doing a brisk business as people tried to get their valuables off the island. As he was leaving, he saw another of the seasonal Jardin d’Eden workers—Millie’s older brother, Eliot—trapped in the snarl of traffic, the back of his truck loaded with furniture. Eliot noticed him and waved him over.

“Chip, right? Hey, can you see what the holdup is?”

Chip backed a few steps away from the truck so he could see down the street. “Something going on near the green, looks like it opens up after that.”

Eliot nodded toward the Express Office. “Wish I could just pay to have my valuables flown away,” he said, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “I’m taking mine up to the airport but they’re not going any further, I hear they’re letting people store furniture and such on the field.”

Chip was struck by a sudden inspiration. “Hey, do you know where Lynam’s Point is, on Lynam Narrows? My dad has a hotel there, you could store your things there.”

“A bit further of a drive, though.”

“Better than having your valuables all jumbled up with other folks’ stuff at the air field, right?”

The man scratched his chin. “You’re sure your dad wouldn’t mind?”

Chip was fairly sure his dad
would
mind, but it would be a way of getting a message to him without having to talk to him. “It’ll be no problem. Can you just let him know I’m helping out with things at Jardin and will be home as soon as I can?”

“Sure. Lynam’s Point, off Indian Point Road, right?”

Chip nodded and stepped back as the traffic began inching forward.

“Thanks,” said Eliot, waving from the truck. Over the line of traffic, beyond the town, Chip could see flames at the tops of several mountains on the other side of Eagle Lake.

Chip drove back to Jardin where, of the remaining crew of three, two were raking pine needles and dry ground cover away from the foundation and one was consulting with Pritchard about the removal of a large pine tree growing close to the house.

“Let me call Mr. Furness,” said Pritchard. He disappeared into the house, only to emerge a minute later. “Line’s dead.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, let’s take her down. Let’s move the trucks down the drive first in case the tree blocks it.”

The rest of the daylight was occupied by the felling of the tree, which did, as Pritchard had anticipated, come down across the top of the drive. As they were cleaning up the branches as a precursor to cutting the truck into moveable chunks, another of the men—whose elderly parents lived on the eastern shore of Somes Sound—slipped away.

When darkness fell, Pritchard sent Chip in to warm up some soup and brew some coffee. On his way to the kitchen, Chip stopped by the library and, glancing up and down the hall, tried the door. Locked.
 

Chip found some cans of chowder in the pantry and dumped them into a pot. While the soup warmed, he slid open some of the drawers, wondering if Millie carried the ring of keys with her or hid them somewhere at the house. He would feel better if he could just take a quick look into the library to make sure The Lady was okay. He found only drawer after drawer of immaculately arranged silverware and carefully folded and pressed table linen.

The night was warm and the air still. After they finished their meal, they settled down on the veranda, some with backs propped against the wall of the house, some lying on their sides, using their arms as pillows. They listened to the fire whistle sound periodically and tried not to think about what the fire might be doing out there in the darkness.

Chapter 31

The next day at noon, Scott stood by the Audi in the parking lot of Mainely Tents in Ellsworth, awaiting Ellen Lynam’s arrival. When he saw her Jeep pull into the parking lot, he hit Send on a pre-entered text:
she’s here
. He waved as Ellen pulled into the space next to the Audi and, when the car stopped, opened her door for her.

“Thank you so much for meeting me on such short notice. Kay and I only have a short time in Maine and we want to get as much planning for the wedding done as possible.”

Ellen grunted slightly as she exited the Jeep. “It’s no problem. But you do realize that I’m not sure what our schedule is for July ...?”

“Oh yes, but I’m very hopeful we will be able to work something out. Kay was so complimentary about your hotel and the surroundings. She said the view is quite spectacular.”

“Yes. It might be helpful if you see the setting first and then discuss a tent ...”

“She gave me quite a detailed description. She just loves it, much more so than any other place we’ve looked at!”
 

“Where else have you looked?” asked Ellen.

“Oh, all places near Philadelphia where we live,” he said, reeling off some of the places he and Mike had talked about as wedding or reception locations. “But Kay likes your hotel best. I’m sure that if you’re booked in July, we would be willing to change the wedding date as needed to accommodate.” Scott ushered Ellen toward the Mainely Tents office, opening the door to the jangle of a bell.
 

In the office, a short, squat man with a military crewcut and enormous walrus mustache stood behind the counter. “Ellen, this is Donald. Donald, this is Ellen Lynam of the Lynam’s Point Hotel.” Scott had spent some time chatting with Donald before Ellen’s arrival and was now familiar with, among other aspects of Donald’s life, the difficulty of subsidizing a child’s medical-school tuition on a tent-rental owner’s earnings.

“Yes, we’ve worked together before,” said Ellen. “How are you doing, Don?”

“Pretty good, Ellen, you?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Sorry to hear about Loring. That’s tough,” said Donald uncomfortably.

“Yes. Well.” There was an awkward silence, then Ellen turned to Scott. “Will Kay be joining us?”

“No, here’s the thing.” He leaned forward conspiratorially and Ellen and Donald leaned forward as well. “It’s a surprise for her! Kay has always wanted an outdoor wedding in a big tent. But until recently, that was out of the question based on our budget. But unbeknownst to her, a distant relative of mine passed away and left me quite a bit of money. I’m going to make sure she has the wedding she’s always dreamed of, and on our wedding day I’ll reveal our good fortune!” He leaned back and smiled expansively at them.

“That will be quite a wedding present,” said Donald, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, that certainly sounds very nice,” said Ellen wistfully.

“So I’d like to take a look at the various tents that might be available for different numbers of people and how each one might be set up on the hotel grounds. And any options for the tents—for example, do they all come with flaps that can be put down if the weather gets bad? And if the weather does get bad, will the tent be safe? What types of tests are run to ensure they’re stable? And who have you worked with on tent decorations, because I imagine the tent setup and decorating have to be closely coordinated. What other services might I need to coordinate with the tent setup? I’m sure Ellen would like to know how long after the event it will be before the tent’s taken down. And is there any possibility of damage to the lawn? Are there different colors to choose from? And what is the tent made of?” Scott thought that should hold them for quite a while. Just for good measure, he added, “And how is the tent made? You’d need something like a giant sewing machine, wouldn’t you?”

Donald, whose possible objections to sitting around with a potential client discussing tent minutia had been circumvented by a $50 contribution to the college fund, went in back to get them some stools and put on a pot of coffee.

Chapter 32

When Ann got Scott’s text, she turned to Garrick and said, “Okay, she’s at the tent place.”

Garrick, who had been reading a small, ancient-looking book in what Ann guessed was German, slipped the book into an inside pocket of his coat and started the engine. After checking carefully in both directions, he coasted out of a side road off Indian Point Road that lay in the opposite direction Ellen would have taken to get to Ellsworth and turned onto Lynam’s Landing Road. This time, he took Ann right to the front steps of the hotel. He turned off the car and got out.

“I’ll show you where the key is, then you can return it there when you’re done.”

Ann followed Garrick toward the west side of the building. “Why don’t you just stay? It sounds like you can understand Loring better than I can.”

“I think he’s demonstrated that he’s unlikely to make an appearance were I to stay.” He pointed to a flowerpot. “It’s under that.”

Ann picked up the pot and retrieved the key.

“I will come back in an hour. I’ll meet you at the front door. If you’re not there, I’ll assume you need more time and will come back again after another half hour. Your driver will send you a text message when Ellen leaves Ellsworth?”

“Yes.”

“It should take her half an hour to get from Ellsworth to the hotel, so we shouldn’t wait any longer than twenty minutes after you’ve heard from him before we leave, even if your assignment isn’t complete.”

“We should have a back-up plan in case he can’t get reception.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If he can’t get cellphone reception to send me a text.” Ann pulled out her phone. “For that matter, what if I can’t get reception to get a text? It’s pretty spotty around here.”

“Good heavens. What good are the things if they don’t work reliably?” muttered Garrick. “I will watch the road so I’ll see if she comes back. If you hear her car, just let yourself out of the hotel on the water side. You’ll have to leave that door unlocked, but she’ll just chalk that up to her own absent-mindedness. Heaven knows she’s a bit distracted by the stress of the situation. And circle back to the road through the woods, not along the shore—the tidal flats are like quicksand.”

“Okay.” Ann followed Garrick back to the veranda and climbed the steps. She inserted the key and, with the squeak of old metal on old metal, unlocked the door. She turned back to Garrick. “I’m about to break and enter.”

“That sounds very melodramatic. It’s for the client’s own good.”

“And for the lucrative fee.”

“Yes. That too, of course. Lock the door behind you in case you don’t hear her car and you’re still in the hotel when she returns. That way she won’t sense that anything’s amiss and you can hide in the hotel until an opportunity to escape presents itself.”

Ann hesitated. “Garrick, I’m starting to feel kind of funny about this.”

“Nonsense. In the worst case, she will discover you and wonder why the overenthusiastic bride-to-be is scouting the hotel while her betrothed is selecting a marquee.”

“Maybe she’ll just think I’m an intruder and shoot me before she recognizes me.”

“Don’t be silly. Ellen Lynam doesn’t carry a gun.”

“Maybe she’ll call the cops.”

“Well, yes,” Garrick admitted, “that would be the worst case. But highly unlikely.” Considering that assessment to have closed the discussion, he returned to the Cadillac, started the engine, and drove slowly around the drive and down the road. When Ann lost sight of him in the pine trees, she opened the door and stepped into the lobby, locking the door behind her.

“Loring?” she called.

The only sound was the ticking of a clock from somewhere behind the bare reception desk. She waited a minute, then called again.

“Loring, are you here?” She had started to move toward the center of the lobby when she heard his voice.

Yes ... here.

The voice came from the shadows of the lobby, opposite the windows, and Ann could perceive a faint flicker of grayish light, the same color as his eyes, marking his presence. The flicker moved toward her, then became more difficult to perceive as it entered the brighter part of the room. However, she could still track his progress by the irregularity in the path of the dust motes illuminated by the sunlight.

When he reached where she stood, he began to speak. As before, his eyes were his clearest aspect and, also as before, she could catch only snatches of his words. She heard “fire” several times—had The Lady been lost in a fire? But Loring had said he was going to show it to her. And then “safe”—that seemed promising. When it became clear to her that she was not going to be able to understand any more, she interrupted him.