Three Dog Island Read online

  I finished my beer and headed back to the gallery. Ramona Dale was in the process of setting up the glass jewelry she had brought in. She was in her mid to late thirties, was my guess, trim, with a single honey-colored ponytail that hung down to her waist.

  I greeted her with a compliment. “Your jewelry is lovely, Ramona.”

  “Thank you, Jenny. And congratulations. You’ve had a sale already.”

  “Thanks. I wonder if I could talk to you a minute.”

  “Of course. Does it have to do with Jasper’s work? Alice said you wanted to ask me some questions.”

  “Yes, it does.” We walked over to the “Circle of Musicians” model that was still intact and the “Boy under Cloud” that had Jasper so upset. “Do you think this is a different piece from the original?” I asked her, pointing to the cloud.

  She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know, Jenny. I really didn’t look at it that closely. If it isn’t Jasper’s work, it certainly is a close likeness. Same clay. Same glaze. Similar strokes and lines. I mean look at this.” She pointed out the similarity of the two pieces that appeared to have been sculpted by the same person. She understood sculptors.

  “You’re right about that. They certainly did a good job.”

  “Excellent. If it’s not Jasper’s.”

  Right. If it wasn’t Jasper’s. Something else struck me at that moment. If someone did damage Jasper’s model and replaced it with a new piece, it would have taken days. During that time, the cloud piece would have been missing. How could that have gone unnoticed, particularly by artists with artists’ eyes for detail? How was that possible? Aside from that, who had the kind of skill it took to hand-build a sculpture even close to Jasper’s original?

  “I’m sure you would have said something if this were the case, Ramona, but you don’t happen to remember if there was a time when the cloud piece wasn’t here at all, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. I think I would have noticed that!”

  I thanked her for her time and went over to the counter and asked Alice the same questions which I’d failed to ask her before. Her answers were similar to Ramona’s, except that she was not as detailed in her observation regarding the similarity of the two pieces.

  My cell phone rang and I went outside to take the call. “You’re calling to tell me you’re on your way to Anamcara.”

  “You’re a wise lassie, you know that?” Charlie said.

  “Naw, it’s just typical Charlie. Never gives anyone any warning. Is MacGregor with you?”

  “Aye, he is that. So, are we going to the pub tonight or are you planning a home cooked meal for us.”

  “Home cooked,” I answered.

  “Trying to impress MacGregor, are you?”

  “Hardly.” Although I wondered if I should let him think that, considering that I couldn’t tell him the real reason I wanted to stay home—the fact that I was hiding a teenage boy in my cottage.

  “If you say so. We should be there by six o’clock. We’ve just arrived at Gael Island. We’re in line for the Anamcara ferry.”

  “You couldn’t have called any sooner?”

  “That wouldn’t be like me now, would it?”

  I was smiling as I closed my phone and headed for the market. Shepherd’s pie, I decided. Easy and always popular with Scotsmen. Interviewing Army was going to have to wait for another day. There were more urgent tasks on the agenda—such as picking out the best carrots and potatoes on the island and getting home before Charlie and MacGregor discovered that I had not only rescued a stray dog, but a stray teenager as well.

  Chapter 9

  I met Charlie and MacGregor outside, taking my time to hug each one of them. I noticed that MacGregor’s hug took a wee bit longer than it normally did. I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all. He smelled of fresh air and a Northwest breeze that comes with riding the ferries. He was wearing slightly-worn jeans and a lamb’s wool Pringle sweater that bore a Scottish lion.

  Struggling to regain my equanimity after MacGregor’s distracting embrace, I stopped my father on his way up the porch stairs. “Wait, Charlie! There’s something I need to tell you before you go inside.”

  Charlie pushed his softly graying hair away from his forehead. “Does it have to do with this muckle dog you’ve taken in?”

  I winced ever so slightly. “Similar.”

  Charlie eyed me cautiously. “What is it, lassie?”

  “Well, there’s another new resident I’ve taken in—” Happily, I was interrupted by the sound of Josh’s sax playing, “Moonlight in Vermont.”

  “What the—?” Charlie turned and stared at the open window. “Who the blazes is making that sweet music?”

  “Uh, that’s kind of what I wanted to tell you about.”

  Charlie wasn’t hearing me. He only had ears for music. But MacGregor had heard me. He grabbed my hand as I followed Charlie up the stairs. Normally that would not have stopped me, but there was something different from the way he usually touched me.

  “What is it, McNair? What’s got you in a tither?” The gleam in his eyes—brown, not blue—and his crooked smile told me that he was more curious than concerned.

  “I—”

  “What have you done, lass?”

  He knew me too well. “I, uh, kind of rescued a boy from the same island where we found the dogs.”

  His eyebrows shot up and I braced myself. Memories of Joe’s intolerance for some of my more irrational behavior came rushing back. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that this wasn’t Joe. This was my beloved physics professor from the University, my professor and friend who understood me and respected me.

  “I know, it sounds crazy but he was starving and alone—a sixteen-year-old boy with no where to go.”

  MacGregor nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?”

  “That he would find you to take him in. Just as your dog did.”

  I exhaled slowly as I felt the corners of my mouth curve into a smile. “I’d better tell Charlie before he—”

  The music stopped and I ran the rest of the way up the porch stairs, but when I heard loud clapping, I knew Josh had won him over with his irresistible rendition of a classic.

  “And who might you be, laddie?” Charlie asked just as I reached his side.

  “Uh, I’m Josh. I’m a friend of Jenny’s.”

  “He’s staying with me for a while,” I told Charlie, fortified by MacGregor’s approval, rather lack of disapproval.

  Charlie was frowning. “Now why would that be? Don’t tell me he’s another rescue project.”

  I nodded. “That he is, Charlie. And a wonderful one at that.” I crossed the room to where Josh was standing with his sax frozen in position. My hand eased across his shoulder and I detected the unconscious tightening of his muscles. A moment later he released his breath and relaxed his stance.

  “Josh, I’d like you to meet my father Charlie McNair and my good friend Malcolm

  MacGregor.”

  The three shook hands and settled onto the couch. Rocky stood up and I expected my vigilant guard dog to check out Charlie and MacGregor with a swift sniff at the very least, but instead he sauntered across the room wagging his tail.

  “Odd he isn’t the least bit aggressive toward you,” I said.

  “Probably because you hugged us,” MacGregor said, with a pleased look on his face.

  “Or he remembers you from Seattle when I brought him down.”

  “That’s possible,” Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowed. “Good memory if he’s only met us once. He actually looks a wee bit familiar to me. What about you, Malcolm?”

  MacGregor patted Rocky on the head. “Aye, he does seem familiar but from where? Perhaps the park?”

  Charlie shook his head. “If I’m right, it will come to us.”

  “That would mean he’s from Seattle,” I said. It was strange not knowing my dog’s background. And somewhat disconcerting.

  Just then the kettle whistled and
Josh and I went to fetch tea and raspberry scones.

  “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” I asked once we were enjoying our tea and scones.

  MacGregor’s eyes twinkled. Kind of reminded me of George Clooney when he was up to mischief, or at least appeared to be.

  “We can’t just come see you?” Charlie asked.

  “Of course you can. So, why are you really here?”

  “We have a soccer match,” MacGregor answered.

  “You mentioned that possibility when I saw you in Seattle. You’re taking this new soccer league you’ve joined quite seriously.”

  “What makes you say that, lass?” Charlie said.

  “You have traveling games.”

  “Oh, aye.”

  “Aren’t the islands kind of remote for a soccer match?”

  “Sharkey’s idea.”

  “Oh, yes, your Irish friend I met at the pub in Seattle. You mentioned that he had invited you to Tara Island. Is that where the match is? I can’t believe there’s a field there.”

  “Actually, Sharkey had one put in, but it’s not regulation size. The match is on Waterloo,” Charlie said.

  “Are you going to Tara Island to visit as well?” I asked.

  “It was the original plan, but Sharkey never confirmed it. We haven’t seen him in a wee while.”

  Charlie said. “Knowing him, he’ll roll onto the field just in time for the game.”

  “When is the game?”

  “Sunday.”

  “Today is Friday,” I said.

  “We thought we would spend some time with you.” That gleam in MacGregor’s eyes was now lighting up the room.

  “Since you can’t go to Tara Island? I’m the consolation prize?”

  “Hardly.” MacGregor’s single word spoke volumes. I was just a bit scared to trust what I thought I was hearing.

  “And get in a wee bit of fishing,” Charlie added. “Do you know where we might rent a boat?”

  “There’s a boat rental down at the water, just as you get into town. Please tell me it’s not going to be one of those four in the morning fishing expeditions.”

  Charlie chuckled. “You loved those when you were a wee lass.”

  “That pleasure vanished with the wee. What time?”

  “We’ll let you sleep in. Would mid morning do? After all, it’s not really the fish we’re after.” MacGregor was staring at me when he said that. Was I imagining things or had he stepped up his flirting considerably? “Now we want to know what’s been going on with you.” His eyes were still fixed on mine.

  Self-consciously, I looked away and took a sip of my Irish breakfast tea. I knew what he was asking, at least I thought I did. “Josh needed a place to stay—a safe place. So, I brought him here. You and my friends Sasha and Ned are the only ones who know he’s here.”

  “Safe from what? And whom?” Charlie asked.

  I told them Josh’s story. They listened without interruption. I was glad, however, that I had prepared Josh for a Charlie McNair grilling because it came hard and fast.

  “Tell me everything you can about this copper Mark Simpson. Everything you ever heard him say, especially when he thought you weren’t listening.”

  Josh leaned back in his chair and placed his hand on Rocky’s head. It was something he did often. There was nothing as comforting as the soft warm fur on a dog’s head.

  “Everything?”

  “Everything. How long has he been friends with your mum and step dad?”

  “He’s been friends of my step father’s since before we knew him.”

  “Childhood friends? College buddies?”

  “I doubt Al went to college. I’d say friends from high school maybe.”

  “What did they talk about that made you suspect they were up to no good?”

  “Well, Mark would talk a lot about some station, only I don’t think it was a police station.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because Al, my step father, isn’t a cop so why would he be talking about it to him all the time? I think that was a code word for some place where they were hiding something. I don’t know for sure, but I kinda think maybe they were stealing stuff and hiding it somewhere and that’s what he was afraid I knew about.”

  “Ah, skimming off the top.”

  “What’s that mean?” Josh asked.

  “When they bust someone—thieves, drug dealers—they take what they want before turning the rest in for evidence. Not uncommon. What did he say about this station?”

  “Oh, just stuff like, ‘We’d better get up to the station and check things out,’ or ‘It’s time to unload stuff from the station.’ He tried to make it sound like police business but I could tell the way he said it, he was up to something, especially because it involved my step father. I mean, why would he be involved with police business, you know?”

  “What would your step father and mother say when he said stuff like that?”

  “My mother never got involved in those conversations. She’d just go about her business, cleaning, cooking, you know. But my step father would grunt something between guzzling his beer like, ‘yeah, first thing tomorrow, we’ll head out.’ It couldn’t have been very close or they wouldn’t have to travel to it.”

  “That’s it?”

  Josh thought for a moment. “One time Al asked something about why the crew that was closer wasn’t handling it?’”

  “You’re sure he used the word crew?”

  Josh shook his head. “Not really. It could have been guys. Something like that.”

  “How did Mark answer?”

  “He said something about not trusting them to do it right, I think.”

  “How did you know that he didn’t want to let you out of his sight?”

  “Well, at first it was just a feeling. He started watching me a lot. It was kinda weird.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I just acted as casual as I could. Didn’t want to be too friendly or anything.”

  “Because that would have been out of character?”

  “I guess. So I just sat around watching TV or playing video games, stuff kids do, not acting like I was scared or anything. I probably did stay out of his way more. It started to creep me out being in the same room with him.”

  Charlie leaned closer and looked him square in the eye. “And you were scared.”

  Josh looked down at his shoes. “Yeah.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of, laddie,” Charlie said. “Being scared is a good thing—tells you when you’re in danger.”

  I took that as my cue to leave them alone and cleared the tea dishes. MacGregor followed suit, lending me a hand in the kitchen.

  “Your cottage seems a bit more crowded than I’d imagined,” MacGregor said when we were washing and drying the tea cups and saucers.

  “It’s not empty nest syndrome if that’s what you’re insinuating,” I said.

  He laughed that warm deep laugh of his that I seemed to have committed to memory. “You read my mind too well, McNair.”

  “Glad to hear I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “So, you’re certain that you didn’t suddenly take in a stray dog and a stray boy because you were—”

  “Lonely?”

  He turned away from the kitchen sink and faced me. “Are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you then?”

  “I am.”

  “You’re possibly over Joe as well then?” He was treading carefully.

  I sat down at the kitchen table. “Getting there.”

  He sat beside me. If I read his sigh accurately he took that to mean I still had feelings for my ex-husband.

  “I’m over Joe, MacGregor. He hurt me too much for me to still have warm and fuzzy feelings for him.” Although I recognized that I too had played a part in the demise of a marriage. “It’s more about getting used to being alone, single, no longer part of a couple, no longer living in the home where I raised my children.”<
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  “I understand.” I had no doubt that he did, despite his never having been married, or having had children.

  “Thanks, MacGregor.”

  “For what?”

  “Understanding? Listening?”

  He patted my hand in a somewhat paternal gesture. “Not a problem. No problem at all.”

  I went to work preparing the evening meal. MacGregor watched me for a few minutes, catching me by surprise with compliments on my parenting. I again joined him at the table for a wee bit where he squeezed my hand. This one wasn’t a paternal gesture, nor platonic. No, it was not my imagination. This time I took his hand and squeezed it back. The flirting had definitely intensified. On both our sides.

  Shortly after MacGregor went back to the living room, Charlie appeared. I handed him a carrot and the peeler. He scowled at me but took them.

  “Nice kid,” he said.

  “I wasn’t asking for your approval.”

  “No, but you’d just as soon have it. Wouldn’t you?”

  I crumbled some fresh parsley over the ground beef. “I just don’t want to have to listen to your pestering or questioning my judgment.”

  “When have I ever done that?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you like him.”

  “It’s not so much like, darlin’. It’s trust. I think he’s okay. Besides, you know I have total faith in your intuition and if he wasn’t okay, you would never have let him stay here.”

  “Do you think you can help us find out what these people who are after him are up to?”

  “Aye, lass. I’ll get to work on it as soon as I get back to Seattle.”

  “Thanks, Charlie. Now, put those carrots in the steamer and I’ll get the meat going.” I wanted to ask Charlie’s help in a few other matters, but I figured he’d have his hands full with his own case and now helping with Josh’s situation.

  There was one more thing I did need his help with however. “Charlie, one more matter you might be able to assist me with.”

  “Anything, luv. What is it?”

  “Josh needs to be doing school work, but it has to be under a different name so these cops can’t track him.”