Becca struggled to escape Diana’s hand on hers. She knew where the vision was heading.
Eddie was saying, “Piece ’f crap and I should’ve knowed better but I didn’t. Thing is, people got to stay away from that wreck. Wreck’s dangerous and them two girls should’ve knowed it.”
He didn’t look at Becca as he spoke, but this was just as well because she was feeling light-headed and a bit sick to her stomach. It wasn’t all due to the sudden sensation of being out on the water, though. It was also due to understanding what Eddie Beddoe had tried and failed to do to the seal.
FORTY
There was only one way to get out to the place where Eddie Beddoe’s boat had gone down. The problem with this was that there were only two people who could help her get out there: Chad Pederson or Ivar Thorndyke. One word to Chad, and Annie Taylor was going to know they were up to something and she was also going to want to know exactly what that something was. That left Ivar, who might agree to ferry Jenn and her out to Eddie’s boat, but only if he was certain that the coal black seal wasn’t anyway near it.
“No big deal,” was how Jenn put it when Becca laid the facts out for her. “The seal spotters’ website tracks every move she makes. If she’s anywhere near that boat it’ll be on the Web.”
The best idea seemed to be to make Ivar part of the expedition’s planning. So when Becca found him in the kitchen of the farmhouse cooking up a batch of Thorndyke’s Famous Fire-on-the-Tongue Chili, she began cleaning up the mess he was making, and she waited for a chance to bring up the subject of another scuba dive to that boat.
She used the idea of getting back on the horse that has bucked one from the saddle. She’d been spooked and so had Jenn, but she thought it might be a good idea for them to try another dive to Eddie Beddoe’s boat together. They were certified now, so they didn’t need Chad Pederson to accompany them. Would Ivar be willing . . . like maybe on a day he was fishing or something? She let the rest of her request hang in the open air.
At first Ivar said no how, no way. That seal was hanging around the boat, hanging around Langley village, hanging around Sandy Point. She’d even swum as far as Bell’s Beach one day—way up along Saratoga Passage—and no one knew where she’d turn up next. Becca was pleased at this turn of topic, since it allowed her to bring up the seal spotters’ website, which she did.
They continued their conversation over dinner, an invitation to taste the Fire-on-the-Tongue chili. The evening was fine, so they took their bowls out onto the farmhouse’s wide wraparound porch and they sat there with Sharla, sharing a pitcher of lemonade, a box of saltines, and a tossed green salad. Sharla was quiet, but she was listening. At the first mention of Eddie Beddoe’s boat, her whispers shot straight into the air.
Where it sank . . . that’s where he . . . I swear I swear . . . it’s all over unless he can . . . if he does then I will go . . . we both said that Sharla’s calm presence hid a troubled mind. But she said nothing, and Ivar’s whispers of try something I know they will and then when she comes to the shore . . . damn . . . if I’d never seen the blasted woman . . . confirmed that Annie Taylor and her intentions remained large on his mind. So Becca played that angle with a by-the-way. She told Ivar she’d seen Annie Taylor and Chad Pederson on the dock at Possession Point. They were up to something, and since Annie’s pictures of Nera had been taken at Eddie Beddoe’s boat . . . Didn’t it all seem to tie together? If she and Jenn did their get-back-on-the-horse dive down to Eddie Beddoe’s boat, maybe they could find out why the seal had been hanging around it.
Sharla whispers went loony with no no no . . . stop . . . don’t you dare . . . if you take her while Ivar’s grew furious with stop her and because if she knows then God help us all. Everything combined to tell an even stronger tale about the need to get down to that boat. Becca wanted to yell, If I know what, Ivar?, but instead she made a dive with Jenn, and Eddie Beddoe’s boat, and Annie Taylor’s intentions all seem part of a reasonable whole.
So ultimately, Ivar agreed. Plans were laid. She only needed Jenn to snag Annie Taylor’s equipment, and they’d be ready to roll.
• • •
JENN GOT HER hands on the scuba equipment without any trouble. Annie and Chad, she reported to Becca, were gathering what they needed to entrap the seal: nets and floats and her dad’s guarantee of excellent bait. When they weren’t doing that, Annie was tending to Cilla or—with a scoff—she was “tending to Chad, if you know what I mean.” Scoring the scuba equipment? No problemmo. Annie didn’t even know it was missing.
Becca and Jenn donned their dry suits as Ivar chugged clear of the marina. Becca had a plan to find the boat a second time, and Ivar agreed that it might well work. She’d remembered from their previous dive that the boat was lying offshore not too far east from Sandy Point, where a funicular railway gave a house on the bluff access to the beach below. All they needed to do was to find that same funicular railway once again, motor out from that point to where Ivar’s depth gauge told them the bottom was at fifty feet, and swim down to the wreck of Eddie’s boat, which should be right there. Just as it had been lying there when they made their dive with Annie and Chad.
Ivar agreed to this. Once out of the marina and the environs of the harbor, he opened the throttle. Sandy Point was no great distance away, and the funicular was even closer. Within ten minutes they were bobbing in the water, where it was deep enough for the boat to rest and where they could see the same funicular carving its mechanical pathway straight down the side of the bluff. From there it was all about the depth finder. They slowly headed out into the passage, whose water on this fine spring day was glassy and clear. At fifty feet, Ivar tossed the anchor over the side. He said to Becca, “You be careful,” and to Jenn, “You, too. I want you back up here in less than fifteen minutes or I’m coming after you, dry suit, wet suit, or no suit. Understand?”
They nodded and donned the rest of their equipment. Becca said to Jenn, “Ready?” and when she heard the whisper of no Chad in case anything happens down there, she added, “Don’t worry. We’re dive buddies, right?”
Jenn didn’t look reassured but she nodded gamely. Becca took the lead once they were in the water. The seal spotters were claiming on this day that Nera was in the Glendale area heading toward Columbia Beach, both of which were north of Possession Point. That put the Mukilteo ferry between where they themselves were and the seal. She might return, but probably not this day. At least that was what Becca told herself and what she told Ivar once he showed her where Columbia Beach actually was on a map of Whidbey Island.
Down they went. Slowly, the shape of the sunken wreck emerged below them as it had before. Becca kept her eyes open for a sighting of the seal, but she didn’t see her. Just lots of fish that she couldn’t name, Dungeness crabs scuttling on the bottom, and the torpedo-shaped hollows that were left by gray whales in their search for ghost shrimp.
Because of the depth, they didn’t have much time to see if the boat sheltered something that Nera had wanted. In the years since the craft had sunk, salt water and the tide and rough weather had done a lot of their searching job for them. There was little enough around the boat, so when Becca saw the box half-wedged into the sandy bottom, she was sure that was what they were looking for.
She turned to Jenn and pointed to it. Jenn nodded, glanced around fearfully, as if expecting Neptune to arrive and go after her butt with his trident, and she indicated that she would follow. Becca felt her close behind, so close that her fins were scraping Jenn’s face.
The box was metal, in part corroded and in part hosting tiny crustaceans. It was tipped drunkenly to one side, and while it looked heavy, this did not turn out to be the case. It was, in fact, disappointingly light. When she and Jenn jiggled it to release it from the sand, it came quite easily, as if it had merely been waiting for them to show up and take it out of the water.
This, too, proved easy. One of them could carr
y it under her arm. Clearly, if they were venturing into the area of finders/keepers, whatever was inside the box, it wasn’t going to be pirate’s gold.
Slowly they surfaced, watching their depth and taking their time. When they made it to the top, Ivar was waiting for them on the platform on the stern, by the boat’s engine. Becca shoved the box onto this platform and took the hand that Ivar extended to her. Jenn did the same. In short order, they were back on the deck of the boat and along with Ivar they inspected the box.
Ivar picked it up and shook it, saying, “What’ve you got here?”
“Don’t know for sure,” Becca told him. “But it could be what Nera’s been after.”
They inspected the box and found it locked. The lock was crusty, and even if they’d had its key, no key was going to open the thing.
“C’n we break it?” Jenn asked.
“Back at the farm,” Ivar said. “I’ve got the proper tools there, if you think it’s worth it.”
“Oh, I definitely think it’s worth it,” Becca said.
FORTY-ONE
Everything should have been easy from there. But that was not how things played out. They motored back to Langley’s marina, and Ivar cut his speed as soon as they were in the harbor area. Jenn could tell that Becca was raring to go to town on the metal box. She kept looking at it and then looking at Ivar. She seemed to be trying to read him like a book.
By the time they were approaching the slips, both Jenn and Becca had their equipment and their dry suits off. When Ivar cut the boat’s engine, Becca jumped out and dealt with the boat’s lines. Jenn shot the hull fenders over the side while Ivar picked up the girls’ equipment. They’d used an old heavy plastic wheelbarrow to get it from his truck down to the dock in only one trip, and Ivar started to hand it to Jenn one piece at a time to stow it inside. When this was done, Ivar handed the box over to Becca. She tucked it beneath her arm. That was when Eddie Beddoe stepped out from behind a cabin cruiser in the very next slip.
He had his rifle. Everyone froze. He said, “I’ll take that, little lady. Thanks very much for bringing it up.”
Jenn grabbed the box from Becca and held it fast. She said, “It’s salvage and you know the rules.”
“What I know is that you have something there that’s mine and if you know anything—like what’s good for you—you’ll hand it over before someone gets hurt.” He raised the rifle to his waist.
Ivar jumped out of the boat. He said, “You going to shoot one of us, Eddie? You advanced from just breaking people’s arms, huh?”
Becca said for some reason, “It was him? Not the seal?”
“That’s the size of things,” Ivar said. And to Eddie, “Put that damn rifle down before someone gets hurt.”
“Once little missy over there hands me that box,” Eddie said, and he strolled quite casually over to the slip where Ivar’s boat was moored.
Jenn looked around. There had to be help somewhere. But the marina was completely empty of people. The lights in the chandlery were off as well, and Chad’s truck was gone from the parking lot, too.
Eddie said to her, “Time you handed that over, Jenn. Someone’s going to get hurt if—”
“You’re way too scared to shoot at anyone,” Becca cut in. She sounded and looked so sure of herself that Jenn felt her eyes get wide. “What’re you so scared of? What’s in that box?”
“Doesn’t concern you.”
“Who does it concern?”
“Give me that damn box!” To make his point and, perhaps, to indicate that being scared was the least of what was going on with him, Eddie raised the rifle and set its sight on Becca.
“Hey,” Ivar shouted.
“He’s not going to shoot me,” Becca said.
“You’re crazy,” Jenn told her. “Here. Take it.” She thrust the box in Eddie’s direction. He snatched it from her as Becca cried, “No! Don’t!” He retreated at a jog down the dock.
Ivar called after him, “There’s things you can’t keep private, Eddie. No matter how you want to.”
“We’ll see about that,” was Eddie’s reply.
• • •
“SHE TOLD HIM,” was all that Ivar would say. “Had to have called him. He wouldn’t’ve known otherwise.” He sounded grim. They were tearing north on the island’s main highway. Becca seemed to know what Ivar meant, but Jenn was completely in the dark.
All of their equipment was in the back of Ivar’s truck, and Ivar sat hunched over the steering wheel. His gaze was glued to the road, and Becca’s gaze was glued onto him. She was wincing, as if something was hurting her eyes. It was all too wacky for Jenn to understand. Something was going on. She just didn’t know what.
Since they were roaring north, she figured they were on their way to Ivar’s farm. That meant that the she Ivar was talking about had to be Sharla Mann. That seemed to mean that whatever was in the box that Eddie had taken from them was something that Sharla knew about because if she was Sharla and if she had told Eddie Beddoe they were heading out to his boat, there had to be only one reason why, and the box was that reason.
At Heart’s Desire, Ivar pulled to a stop right in front of the steps leading onto the porch. They went in through the kitchen and Ivar told the girls to wait in the living room. For some reason, Becca asked Ivar if he was sure. His response was a grim, “I’ve never been so sure of anything, Becks,” and he strode to the mudroom door.
“It’s time for some talking,” Jenn heard him say to Sharla. “Eddie and his rifle made our acquaintance about twenty minutes ago in the Langley marina.”
“Eddie? Oh my God!” Sharla cried.
“Yeah. That’s about it. ‘Oh my God.’ I got two terrified schoolgirls in the living room, Shar. Now me alone, I don’t give two damns about Eddie Beddoe. He c’n break my other arm and both my legs and—”
“It was Eddie? Eddie did it? You always said the seal.”
“Oh hell yes it was Eddie who did it and me the fool trying to protect you from knowing the worst about the man when alls along I expect you’ve known the worst real good. Now I don’t care what that fool man does or what he doesn’t do, but he pulls a rifle and points it at a couple of girls and you and me have some talking to do because we both know there’s only one way Eddie knew where we’d be today and I’m looking at her.”
“I only thought—”
“Sharla, I do not want to know what you only thought. It’s time to talk and I’ll be in the living room waiting.”
Then he left her, and Jenn heard him striding across the kitchen. He came into the living room with a face that looked like stone. After a few very tense minutes of silence, Sharla joined them. She was wearing her work smock with color stains on it, and her gaze shot around the room like a finch’s when the bird’s seeking food. It settled first on Jenn and then on Becca. She said, “I’m sorry,” and wiped her hands down the front of her smock. “He’s not a bad man. It’s just that he’s not right in the head. He used to be. But then . . . he wasn’t.”
Jenn saw Becca’s eyes get narrow and her look get sharp, as if she was making more from this than what was said. Becca glanced quickly at Ivar and then back at Sharla, and she seemed to be reading the air between them. Everyone was shooting looks at everyone else. Jenn wondered what the heck this was all about. She wondered about Sharla and she wondered about Eddie. But she also remembered that what connected them was their life in that trailer on the edge of the water at Possession Point.
Then she suddenly knew. She said, “Holy crap. It was that oil spill, huh? ’Cause you and Eddie were locked up in that trailer after the oil spill and Eddie hadn’t worn a hazmat suit and there were fumes and oil all over the place and after that, he was totally different.”
“That damn oil slick,” Ivar said. “It changed everything for everyone in Possession Point.”
Sharla took a deep breath. “Not
everyone,” she said. “Just me and Eddie. We were the ones got changed.” She lowered herself to the very edge of the sofa, like a woman ready to spring to her feet and run for the hills. Only there were no hills. There was only the bluff and, beyond the bluff, the drop to Useless Bay.
“It’s time,” Ivar said to her. “I don’t know what it is but whatever it is, it keeps us apart, you and me. It’s time, Sharla.”
“I found the overalls,” Becca told her. “They were in that trunk in the chicken coop.”
“Oh God,” Sharla said. “They were the only things . . . He said everything and he checked it all to make sure, but he didn’t notice. They were all I had left.”
“Of what?” Jenn asked, just above a whisper, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. “All you had left of what?”
“There was oil on the beach,” Sharla said.
“But there was more than oil,” Becca murmured.
Sharla lowered her head. Her voice sounded as if she was forcing the words out. “There was a child. Little. Barely a toddler. She was sitting there on the beach in the cold. She was naked. Eddie found her, just sitting. With no one around and her naked and shivering in the night. Not making a sound. It was like she was . . . like she was waiting for him to find her. He brought her to the trailer that way. With no one to take care of her. Just me and Eddie.”
No one said a word. Jenn looked at Ivar, whose face was grave. She looked at Becca and saw her eyes were closed and her hands were clenched into fists on her knees. Jenn waited for more although she was beginning to feel she knew where the story was heading: to days that were spent inside that trailer without coming out, but now with a reason for staying out of sight.
Sharla said, “I saw that baby and I knew she was our chance. I said how could a baby be all alone and naked on a beach and not a scratch on her, not a mark, with oil coming up onto the sand from the water and getting on everything and yet here was this baby with nothing on her, not a single thing. I said to Eddie that she had to be sent to us by God and Eddie didn’t disagree.”