Dark Beach (17 page)

Jenny parked in front of a small brick clinic. “I’ll pick you up later, okay.”

“I think they’re only open another couple hours.”

“I’ll be back,” she said.

* * *

“Fire, Fire, Fire! Class Bravo Fire in dry dock one. Fire control team two, report to fire station Charlie. Rescue and Assistance
Detail, report to station Bravo. Ladder 32, on their way.”

“What now?” Ron, in dry dock two, ducked for cover under the big sub, which was still on its huge, custom-fit blocks.

Carl ducked in beside him. They hunkered down behind chunks of oak four feet thick and eight feet long that cannonballs would bounce off. There was no room to stand, only to kneel.

Explosions rattled their ears, sparks flew, and metal debris clanged and crashed on the sub above them. Workers ran for cover, many squeezing in beside them. A secondary explosion was followed by a ripping sound—an acetylene bottle hurtled into the dry dock and flew past the huddled men to bounce off the concrete wall ninety feet behind. It hit the floor and spun like a top, flames shooting from its end.

“Jesus Christ! Ah didn’t want to refit that destroyer. They’re damn dangerous; everything is unmarked, fuckin’ shells an’ ammo everywhere.” Carl poked his head out from under the sub.

“Get back in here.” Ron tugged his vest. Carl jerked his head back inside and the white hard hat rolled off and out into the open; a glowing spark landed in the middle of it.

“You’re bald under that hat? I didn’t know it.” Ron smiled. “Put your hat back on, and stop glaring at me.”

“Just you wait ’til you’re my age.” Carl rubbed his head and then put the hat back on.

“Why shells and ammo everywhere? That should’ve all been dealt with last century.”

“We found an old stockpile in a room that was completely welded off to look as if there was nothing there. Makes no sense. Did an overall inspection first to see what we needed to do an’ one of the guys noticed an unmarked space on one of the old blueprints. They been hoarding it for something, for some mission. Who knows? Heavy, heavy stuff. Intended to kill. We were moving the load off ship—not quick enough.”

“This place is a disaster zone. You’re up shit creek.” Ron glared at him.

“Not me, an’ not us. That young Navy Ensign signed off on the HAZMAT. Besides, the Admiral hates that smart ass’s guts. He ain’t done nothing but talk shit to the Admiral ever since he met him. Seems Ensign’s daddy is an Admiral too.” Carl patted Ron on the back as they watched the chaos—firefighters putting out the flames of hell, men evacuated with burn injuries, yelling, shouting, and pure misery. “Maybe we should just blow up dry dock two’s doors while we’re at it. I’ll have to get me a couple them acetylene bottles to set off at my next Fourth of July party.”

“Bad way to die. Don’t be stupid.”

“
Ah’m just kidding.”

“Good. Because there’s no way we’re blowing those doors now.”

“The bad news is this sub’s got live test birds on it.” Ron shook his head furiously. “We touch it. We could nuke the west coast.”

“Nukes
! It’s got nukes? An’ the mushroom cloud comes free. Oh shit. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Shhh. I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news—and not so loud.” He put a finger to his lips. “They were loading them up this morning. Something’s going on. I don’t know what, but the Admiral called me.”

“He did. You didn’t say anythin’…”

“No. No, I didn’t. I told him we’re working as hard and as fast as we can. That sub is ready to go. We just need to get it rolling.”

Carl sighed, lowered his head and wiped the beaded sweat from his forehead. “That we’ll do. Right after we sort out this mess.”

* * *

“He has no leg?” Jenny put a hand to her mouth as her tears started anew.

“I’m sorry. I had to amputate. He’s on IV antibiotics
, but Charlie is a seriously ill little dog. I need to keep him overnight, possibly longer.”

Jenny slumped in a chair in the waiting room of the Vet’s Office. The yellow roses on the marbled table seemed
faded; everything looked like she was seeing it through a film of gauze. And then the teeth flashed into her mind. She closed her eyes.
Not here.
“Not here.”

“Excuse me? Are you okay? Can I get you a glass of water?”

The teeth faded. Jenny jerked upright and slapped her own face. “Get it together. She slapped it again. “You’ve got to get it together.”

“It’s going to be all right. It was just an accident.” The veterinarian put a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s what Ron says,” she babbled. “He always says that, but it’s not true!” She stood up, bumping the coffee table, knocking the vase over. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t
know
. It was my fault.”

“She’s freaking out. We need assistance
here. Call Ted,” Dr. Shooner yelled to his wife.

“No! I’ll be back tomorrow to check on my dog. His name is Charlie. Please take good care of him.”

“Wait, your insurance card ... you never gave it to me,” said the secretary. Dr. Shooner put his hands up, shushing her.

“Shut up,” Jenny whispered under her breath as she pushed the front doors open. Turning, with the most perfect smile—
more fake than she had ever smiled in her life—Jenny said, “I have to go.” She slipped her hand in her purse, chucked the card on the floor, and let the door slam behind her.

A couple of long, deep breaths and moment of silence later, Jenny focused on the present.
“Now where is this clinic again?” Jenny asked herself. “Yes.” She started to drive. “I do remember this turn, now.” She flicked off the radio.
He better be okay, because I’m supposed to be lying in bed with my feet up, which hasn’t happened today.
Rocky Shores: hot and happening, excluding the hot part.

She found Kurt warming the bench outside the clinic
. He looked as tired as Jenny felt. She pulled up alongside him.

“Nice car.” Kurt grinned.

“Thanks. Get in. You’re coming home with me.”

SEVEN

“I’ve been by this house many times. It always seems really familiar, but I don’t think I’ve never been in.” Kurt followed her up the peeling steps to the porch. “Do you always leave your front door wide open?”

“What? I thought I locked it before I left.” Jenny stopped in her tracks and motioned for Kip to back up.

“Do you want me to go in?” Kurt gave her an uncertain
frown.

“I don’t know. I know I locked it. I would never forget to lock it.”

“I’ll go in.” He shook his head, to still the last twinges of the headache that had been bothering him all day. It was beginning to fade as the narcotics did their job. Just in time. He really couldn’t be bothered with the extra hassle at that moment.

Jenny stayed back.

“Blue—that’s your color isn’t it?” he yelled out to Jenny.

“What is he doing?” She tapped her foot nervously.

“Mamma?” Kip wandered out the front door.

Kurt emerged right after her. “I don’t see a thing. The place is quiet. There’s an old lady asleep on the couch. I suppose she must have left it unlocked.”

“I guess.” Jenny sighed.
So much for baby-sitting
. She followed him back in, with Kip behind them, but stopped at the dining room. “Something’s wrong. I didn’t put that lantern on the table. Are you sure you looked everywhere?”

“Every closet, the bathrooms, all the way up to that picture of my father in the hall leading to that funny-shaped room. What’s going on there? You never mentioned
that
on our lunch date.”

“I wasn’t sure it was him.”

“Why’s he up there? I lived in Rocky Shores my whole life, and I had no idea he had any association with this house.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know,” she said, finally.

“That’s obvious.”

After moving the lantern into the kitchen cupboard and out of sight, Jenny opened the fridge and poured a glass of milk. “Do you want one?”

“Just water.”

“One second, okay
. I’ll be right back.” Taking the glass of milk, she called, “Kip, come on up, please,” and went upstairs. Kip followed reluctantly until Jenny set up some toys and books for her to play with. “Here’s some milk. Just play a bit and I’ll be up soon.”

Back downstairs, she gently shook Molly Coggington awake.

“Oh ... oh, my dear, I must have dozed off.” Molly rubbed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jenny. Kip?” she queried, embarrassed.

“Upstairs,” Jenny answered.

“I am sorry,” Molly Coggington mumbled. “I guess I better be on my way. I see you have company.” She nodded in Kurt’s direction.

Kurt sat in the rocking chair,
gazing out the window at the dune grass stirring in the ocean winds. Jenny saw Mrs. Coggington the door, and eventually took a seat across from him, on the stiff blue couch. They sat in awkward silence.

“So are you going to tell me why my Dad’s photograph is up there?”

She pulled a blanket over her lap. “Gerry, my husband’s Nana, and your father were good friends, maybe more. He even visits her at the retirement home.”

“He does.”

Jenny nodded. “I think they may have been romantically involved.”

“My old man?”

“Yes. Maybe I should have mentioned it before, but you know, I got sidetracked.”

He responded with a breathy, “Yeah. It makes sense now I think about it. All this time... He’s always been secretive. I knew he was up to something. Thought he was just gambling. Turns out he had a woman on the side, the old codger. He looks good in that picture, old, but better than he looks now. I thought Gerry was married. I know of her. I knew this was her house.”

“It’s still her house.”

“You just vacationing then, for fun?” The words were said in a tone, and with a smirk, that Jenny ignored.

“We may buy it.”

“
You
should.” Kurt raised his eyebrows.

Jenny stood up. “Enough of that.”

“You brought me here.” Kurt stood too, then quickly sat back down.

“I just…” She was speechless, one hand raised. “Whatever.”

Kurt waited; he was a very patient man.

“I just don’t want to be alone here,” she carefully ventured.

“I know,” he said with a smile. “I know.”

* * *

“Two men down. Ah was expectin’ more,” said Carl with resignation.

“Me too. This place is almost up to speed. I’m surprised we’ve been able to clean up the debris so quickly.” Ron patted the side of the sub, as if it were his pride and joy.

“We’re on overtime—that’s why. I’m sure they all want to go home.” Carl flipped over some papers on his clipboard.

“I’m salary,” said Ron.

“HA!”

“I just get a bonus.”

“Ah bet it’s big, though.” Carl spread out his arms.

Ron just grinned. “When will the hammerhead crane be here?”

“Early. Early tomorrow, about five, give or take thirty minutes. You better get some shut-eye. Ah’ll be up in the bunk in my office.”

“You’re not heading home to the missus?” asked Ron.

“Divorced.”

“Oh.”

“It just wasn’t working for the both of us. It’s the way it’s supposed to be, Ah guess.”

“Well, I better call mine. She’s been up to ... stuff.”

“Better be good stuff.” Carl winked.

“I don’t know about that,” said Ron. “Goodnight. Call me if anything happens, otherwise I’ll be back.”

“Right.”

The hotel room was no haven. There was no view and nothing to do besides leave, down some bitter decaf, and eat a dry, dense energy bar from the vending machine. It was warm out, so Ron took a seat by the well-lit pool and dialed Jenny’s number. The line rang and rang. Just when he thought her voicemail would pick up, she answered. “I found him, oh Ron.”

The distress in her voice immediately sent his heart racing. “Tell me.”

“He’s at the Vet Clinic. He could die.”

“Slow down. Slow down. Start from the beginning.”

“The basement out back...”

“Yeah. You mean the stuff hole—that’s what we called it anyway. It’s just a bunch of old garbage down there.”

“Well, I went down there nights ago. I was bored. I found some journals. I think they belonged to your mother. Anyway, Charlie … he must’ve followed me and I didn’t know.”

“Oh no.”

“He got his foot caught in an old metal mousetrap.”

“Ugh. Granddad put those in there years ago. We had a problem, but I thought we got them all.”