Three Dog Island Page 31

  “Charlie has checked on the status of the arrests for you,” he told me. “Simpson is definitely the ring leader of their operation. Besides nailing him for Bob Arellano’s murder, they’ll hit him for orchestrating this operation. I don’t think he’ll be seeing the light of day again, except from a prison compound.”

  I sighed with relief. Josh could live a normal life.

  Simultaneously we leaned back to allow Pen to set down our orders of fish and chips. Wisely she left after our thank you’s. Pen was good at detecting private conversations.

  “There’s something else you need to know, McNair.” Clearly it was something he did not want to tell me. “I think we should not say anything to Josh about this. Grace Wallace has pressed charges against Simpson—”

  “For rape.”

  “You knew?”

  “I had a feeling. I’m just glad she had the courage to do it.” I turned, staring into the fire as though it had the answers. “Betrayal sure seems to be running rampant lately.”

  “Aye, you’re right about that. Simpson betraying his partner. Simpson and Al betraying Grace. Dante betraying his old friend.”

  “And son,” I added. “And then there’s Deputy Dan betraying this whole community, especially Sam. And in a way, Grace betrayed Josh by failing to keep him safe from all this.”

  “You’re right about that, lass. But I don’t think he’ll hold a grudge.”

  “No, I don’t either. But I think it’s most painful when those who betray you are the ones you trust the most. There may be many wounds to heal.”

  He leaned forward and took my hand. “I know just the person to help with that.”

  I smiled up at him. I was thinking of another betrayal, one I was healing from more quickly than I’d expected. I wondered if MacGregor knew his part in that.

  “You’re thinking about Joe.”

  “For a fleeting moment. I haven’t been thinking about him much anymore at all.”

  “What have you been thinking about?” MacGregor poured vinegar on his fish and popped a chip into his mouth with the hand that was not holding mine.

  “Oh, a lot of things—these cases I’ve been juggling, my pottery, the art gallery, my dog, my kids, Josh, the cottage, Charlie, my Aunt Winnie . . . “

  He squeezed my hand, a threat lurking behind his smile. “And?” He let go of my hand so he could cut a piece of his fish and very properly put it in his mouth.

  “And what?”

  The threat had changed to a scowl. “And what else have you been thinking about?”

  I was certain that my expression had changed from impish to intense as I whispered, “You.” Suddenly my appetite no longer had anything to do with the fish and chips in front of me.

  MacGregor reached over and picked up a chip with his fork. He held it up to my mouth. He’d read my mind. He was doing a lot of that lately. “As much as I’d love to leave right now and take you home and make passionate love to you, I think you need to eat. You haven’t touched your food. The last thing I want is for you to pass out.”

  “An ulterior motive. I should have known.” If I was going to get any food down, I was going to have to distract myself from MacGregor. I forced my eyes from his and stared down at my plate and took a small bite of fish. “What are Grace and Dori’s chances of getting off?”

  “Considering that they were aware of the scam that was going on, and adding insult to injury, they each took a chunk out of Simpson and Wallace with a bullet, they’ll have to do some time. Charlie thinks it won’t be too long, especially because of Simpson and Wallace’s conspiring to kill a policeman.”

  “I know Josh will want to know that.”

  “Charlie told him. But even if his mother gets out before he goes to college, he wants to stay with us.” MacGregor took a long sip of his beer. “It’s great the lad is thinking in terms of college now.”

  It was great. And so was his wanting to stay with us. I knew he would want to visit his mother when he could, but right now he needed the stability that we could provide for him.

  “Manny and the twins have gone home. They did manage to film some cops from Northern Washington and a couple from Southern Oregon, dropping off their loot.”

  “Loot’s the right word for it. It kind of feels like we’re dealing with pirates. What next? Smugglers?”

  MacGregor reached across the table to take my hand again. It was definitely becoming a habit. He was not going to get any objections from me. “So, have you called Holly and told her about us yet?” he asked.

  I cringed and he let my hand go and leaned back in his chair. “Apparently not. It’s okay, McNair. You’ll tell her when you think it’s the right time.”

  “I was thinking maybe Thanksgiving.”

  He nodded. He understood. Or at least he was trying to.

  Sasha stopped by the house the following morning. Either she sensed that MacGregor was there, or she’d heard via the Anamcara grapevine that he had arrived last night.

  “Neither,” she insisted when I asked her. “But I did hear about Deputy Dan. Tell me everything.”

  I gave her the short version. It was enough to raise her ire.

  “And to think we trusted that man to be looking after us! My God! He could have gotten Josh killed!”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  I went to the kitchen door to open it for Whistler and Rocky who had been romping in the rain. Sasha grabbed a couple towels from the laundry room and we rubbed them down and told them to sit in front of the woodstove where, without any repercussions of a wounded male ego, I had built the fire that MacGregor had offered to build for me.

  “Josh is okay though, right?”

  “He’s great. Happy as can be, playing with Charlie’s band, going between MacGregor’s and Charlie’s, depending on what school work he needs help with.”

  Sasha sighed. “Anamcara has seen enough excitement for a while. I’m glad it’s over. I’m still reeling from this scam of our very own Dante’s. Right there on Three Dog Island.”

  My laugh was sardonic. It all came down to Three Dog Island. It was where we had found the dogs. It was where I had found Josh. And in the end, it was where we had found Jasper’s art thieves. I figured—and hoped—we had seen the last of that island.

  Sasha continued, “To say nothing of our deputy. Tells you how little we really know people and what they’re capable of. A lot of healing to do on this island. I suspect you’ll have a line out the door for a while, Jenny. I know Sam is pretty upset about all this.”

  “Frankie told you?”

  “Yeah, she came over last night to tell me about it. I’m sure glad we don’t have to keep her out of the loop anymore.”

  “Me too.” It was never fun keeping secrets from friends.

  “Okay, so now tell me about you and MacGregor. Seems he can’t stay away. You were just with him in Seattle and now he’s up on the island?”

  I narrowed my eyes, still suspicious that he was the reason for her morning visit.

  “Speaking of which, where is he?”

  “Showering. He’ll be down in a minute.”

  “Speak of the handsome devil,” Sasha said, turning to greet MacGregor with a hug as he walked into the kitchen.

  He chuckled as he accepted the unexpected hug. “It’s good to see you too, Sasha.” His forehead wrinkled and for a moment I thought he was uncomfortable with Sasha’s spontaneous gesture, until I recognized the look of concern on his face.

  “What’s wrong, MacGregor?”

  He let Sasha go and walked over to the woodstove. “Who is this?”

  “That’s Whistler, my dog that Jenny and I rescued.”

  He squatted down to pet Whistler’s droopy ears and scratch his stubby body. “I’m not sure, but I think—”

  “What?” Sasha and I asked simultaneously, the room filling with palpable tension.

  “There was a third wee dog you found on that island, wasn’t there?”

  “Yes, Lenny, Frankie�
��s dog,” Sasha said.

  “Describe him if you don’t mind.”

  “He’s a terrier,” I said reluctantly. “White with tan markings. You recognize them, don’t you?”

  He stood up, stroking Rocky’s head as he did. “Aye, I’m afraid I do.”

  Sasha grasped my hand tightly. My grip was equally tight. After several days of worrying, I’d finally stopped being cautious about my growing attachment to my dog. For a while I had suspected everyone I passed on the street of being a potential enemy who knew and wanted my dog. The last person I expected to break my heart was MacGregor.

  “Whose are they?” Sasha asked bravely.

  “Sharkey’s.”

  “Sharkey’s?”

  “Who’s Sharkey?” Sasha asked.

  “A friend of Jenny’s dad’s and mine. He lives a wee bit down the road from us,” MacGregor answered as he headed for the front door. He stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him, his cell phone wedged against his ear.

  “What’s he doing?” Sasha asked.

  “Calling Charlie. Something is up and they’re not telling me.”

  Sasha looked the way I felt. “Do you think this Sharkey will let us keep them?”

  “I wish I knew.” I squatted down to hug my dog. My dog. “What’s going on?” I asked MacGregor when he came back inside.

  He put both hands on my arms, as though trying to infuse me with reassurance. It wasn’t working. “MacGregor?”

  He kissed me on the forehead. Still not working.

  “I’ll explain later,” he said, heading up the stairs.

  “Where’s he going now?” Sasha asked.

  “To pack.”

  “How do you know? You’re not even married to the man.”

  I shrugged. “I just know.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, recognizing that was all she was going to get. “But call me as soon as you know more. Please.”

  “I will.”

  I hugged her and Whistler good-bye and went to pack some lunch for MacGregor. He was leaving without breakfast. It was the least I could do. Fifteen minutes later he was hugging me good-bye. He told me as much as he could. I knew better than to ask questions I wouldn’t get any answers to.

  “The less you know, lassie, the safer—the better off you are,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

  I followed him outside and stood there staring after him, Rocky at my side, wondering what that said about how safe he was.

  Other than the days that I gave birth to my children, that was the longest day of my life. I threw four pots, none of which I would keep, which made me consider starting a collection of therapy pots. Rocky and I went for three long walks, two of which were in the rain. I needed to keep moving. And I baked scones, three different kinds, raspberry, apricot, and blackberry.

  I had called Charlie’s cell phone and home phone at least twelve times each. His cell went straight to voice mail and he did not answer the home phone. Even knowing that it was unlikely that I could ply anything from MacGregor, I dialed his cell numerous times as well. It too went straight to voice mail. But there was some comfort in hearing his voice, even a recorded version.

  Every time I hung up the phone, my intuition told me Charlie and MacGregor were together. The next question was, where was Josh? I dialed MacGregor’s home phone in case Josh was over there. No answer.

  At seven thirty my house phone rang. I almost jumped out of my skin at the shrill sound piercing the silence. “MacGregor?”

  “Sorry, Jenny, your intuition must be off.”

  “Josh! Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m with Matt.”

  I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand. Of course. “At the dorm?”

  “Yeah, but we’re going back to Charlie’s now.”

  “Where’s Charlie?”

  “With Mac.”

  “Do you know where they are?”

  I knew the answer before he said it. “Sorry, I don’t. You sound worried.”

  “No, just— Did Charlie tell you anything, Josh?”

  “Not much. Just that he had to go meet Mac. I think it has to do with this case they’ve been working on.”

  I had no doubt about that. I just had no idea what this case was. All I knew was that there was some danger involved, the kind that made Charlie and MacGregor want to keep me out of it.

  “Anyway, Charlie called Matt and asked him if he could check on me.”

  And my son, true to his nature, had picked up Josh and had him spend the day with him.

  “It was a really cool day. I got to go to Matt’s classes with him.” He paused for a moment and I heard him swallow back the emotion. “He told everyone I was his little brother.”

  A glimmer of light in a dark day. Josh now felt that he was officially part of the family. And he was hooked on the concept of going to college.

  “I’m glad, Josh, that’s great.”

  “You don’t sound so good, Jenny.”

  I swallowed the fear and anxiety that were stuck in my throat. “I’m okay. I’m glad you had a good day.”

  “Oh, and I called my grandfather yesterday. He was real relieved to hear from me. It had been so long. And I talked to my sister last night too. I told her everything. She didn’t know any of this was going on. Except she knew my mom was real unhappy. She’s glad Al and Mark are out of our lives.”

  She wasn’t alone in that. “Maybe she can come out for one of the holidays to see you.”

  “Yeah, she said she’d try to do that.”

  I was happy for Josh. His life seemed to be moving in a positive direction. So did mine—at least until today.

  The chances of sleeping were slim to none, but at ten o’clock, I crawled into bed anyway. I lay there in bed, MacGregor’s words going round and round in my head. “I’ll tell you more when I can, lassie. You’ll just have to trust me.” I did trust him. Completely. But trusting someone didn’t stop me from worrying about them.

  Rocky slept in my bedroom that night. I didn’t care about conditioning. I didn’t care about teaching him bad habits. I didn’t care about anything I’d ever read on how to raise a dog. All I cared about was comfort, and right now, short of the chocolate chip scones I’d baked that evening and the Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia I kept stashed in my freezer, my dog was the only comfort I had. And even his being my dog was questionable.

  My mind flashed back to the first trip Rocky and I had made to West Seattle. That was when I’d let MacGregor and Charlie think there was a new man in my life. And then I’d gone to get Rocky out of the car. And he had headed in the wrong direction. He had pulled with all his might to cross the street, away from Charlie’s. Now I understood why. It wasn’t a stubborn streak in my dog’s character after all. He was only trying to go home—to Sharkey’s. But he’d only done it that first time. After that, he had stayed by my side as if knowing that we now belonged to each other. That had to mean something.

  He raised his eyes to look at me, a gentle whine and the slight wag of his tail telling me that he knew I was thinking about him. Okay, so he did have a stubborn streak, but it was more mischievous than defiant. Finding a molecule of comfort in his soft fur, I reached down and pet him before nestling under the covers and attempting to get some sleep.

  But my tools failed me. I tried to think positive thoughts and hold a positive vision of MacGregor and Charlie in my mind, but I gave into fear and tears more often than not. I rationalized that it was a good release for all the tension I’d been carrying around and the emotional upheaval I’d been trying to process over the past few weeks. I also gave into a habit I’d broken years ago that involved bread boxes and freezers in the middle of the night.

  * * *

  By morning I was certain I had a significant ulcer. I tried meditating, throwing pots, drinking chamomile tea, walking in the rain. Even a hot bath with candles and soothing music didn’t help.

  When there was a quick knock on my front door and it
opened some time after eleven in the morning, I was curled up by the fire searching one of my Aunt Winnie’s diaries for comforting words, the blanket she had knitted me across my lap.

  Not Sasha’s gentle tap, I thought, but who else would open the door without waiting for me to answer it? I jumped off the couch and bounded across the room and into his arms. “MacGregor! You’ve no idea how worried I was.”

  “I am sorry, lass. I did not realize—”

  I ran my fingers through his thick brown hair and down his cheek to the deep red bruise. “What happened?”

  He winced, from my fingers probing his wound or his thoughts? “Just got into a wee tussle, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” And it didn’t look so wee.

  “All in good time, McNair, all in good time.”

  I glared at him. “Which translates as you still can’t tell me anything.”

  “Which translates as I have other things on my mind right now.”

  “Where’s Charlie?”

  He looked at me curiously as if surprised I had known Charlie was with him. “Safe. En route home.”

  “Any bruises?”

  “Aye, one to match mine. Not as bad. He’s shorter and better at getting out of the way than I am.”

  I laughed. There was some comfort there.

  “I’ve good news though.”

  “And what might that be?” I asked anxiously.

  “The dogs are yours to keep.”

  I sighed with relief. I would call Sasha and Frankie as soon as I was willing to free MacGregor from my arms. And Rocky. “And just when I was thinking I would have to get used to empty-nest syndrome for the fourth time.”

  “Fourth time?”

  “First Matthew, then Holly, then Josh—somewhat—and now Rocky.”

  “Oh, aye, well I think I’ve a solution for you,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “And what might that be?”

  “Have someone move in with you. Someone who is wise enough to never leave.”