“I know Jim,” she told him quietly. “And you have no idea how much that means to me.”
He gazed down at her fondly. Finally, he kissed the top of her head.
“You and Harm be sure to come by and say ‘howdy’ tomorrow. Might be able to rustle up a beer er even a hard cola.”
“Bet on it.”
“Okay then. Bye Ellie. Harm.”
“Bye Jim.”
The two of them settled back to the table.
“I, uh, don’t mean to be rude, but where the hell did he materialize from? I’d hate to think of someone sneaking up on us if we’d been otherwise occupied.”
“Oh, I keep forgetting. You’re a stranger here. You don’t know the territory. Jim lives just on the other side of that knoll over there. Sort of catawampus to the upper corner of my property.
“This whole area is honeycombed with old logging roads and trails. Some of them go all the way back to the gold rush. Jim knows them all and in that great big old truck of his with those big wheels, four-wheel drive and high ground clearance, he uses them as short-cuts to get around. In fact, there’s an old trail that goes past his place and sort of doglegs down to the lake and comes out just below my gate. Moon Lake Road used to be part of the logging system. You wouldn’t see it if you didn’t know where to look. Grown over mostly now.”
Elgin’s voice dropped and she looked away toward the lake.
“Jim’s wife, Cissy, liked to hike the trails around here. Did it practically every morning, rain or shine. Especially the one down by the lake.
“Jim and a buddy of his came home from fishing one day and she wasn’t there. It was getting late and dark so he and his friend went out to look for her. They found her body floating face down in the shallows just below the trail.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been awful for him.”
She nodded. “It was terrible for everyone who knew her. Cissy was kind and gentle and just about the best person I ever knew. The police figure she was walking along, tripped, fell, hit her head and tumbled into the water and drowned.
“That happened the autumn after the summer I turned fifteen. Marty got a letter from his folks and he told me. I felt really bad and wrote Jim a letter and he wrote back to me telling me how much he appreciated the sympathy and how he looked forward to seeing me again in the summer. I didn’t go back the next year. Not for a lot of years as a matter of fact. Not until I bought this place.
“Funny…” she mused.
“What?”
She turned back to him then. “Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that trail or Cissy for ages. In fact, after she died, no one ever used it anymore, including Jim. I just thought how funny he should use it to come visit me after all this time. Guess it was just quicker than going all the way around and down the road and opening the gate.
“Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?”
“Oh,” he answered pulling her to him, “I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”
Chapter Eleven
“Holy shit!” Harm breathed as he pulled the SUV to a stop and got his first look at “The Brass Monkey,” rocking gently at the end of the longest dock at Fisher’s Marina.
Elgin grinned. “That’s the general reaction when people first see ‘The Monkey,’” she told him. “I know it was mine. Come on.”
“She must be…what? Fifty…sixty feet?”
“Sixty-five.”
Sleek, winter-white fiberglass with a broad fore deck, flying bridge and sparkling blue awning covering the after deck. As they came along side, Harm noticed the little brass monkey sitting just over the railing, grinning a warm welcome.
“Elgin, darling,” Marty beamed, grabbing her hand and helping her aboard, hugging her as her feet landed on the polished teak-look deck. “I’m delighted you could make it. Absolutely delighted.”
He extended a polite but less than enthusiastic hand in Harm’s direction.
“And of course you too. Harm, isn’t it?”
“Camp, please.”
“Yes. Well, sit down, get comfy and we’ll get underway.” He shooed them toward the plump, bright blue cushions ringing the deep well of the after deck.
“Paul?” he called into an intercom.
“Yes sir?” came a voice from the box.
“We’re all set. Cast off and get underway whenever you’re ready.” Flipping the “off” switch, he came over and made himself comfortable next to Elgin.
“So, what sort of mischief have you two been getting into?”
Harm bristled silently at the nerve of his host. And he was sitting entirely too close to Elgin.
“Nothing but soaking up the peace and quiet,” she replied, patting him gently on the knee.
“Knowing what a fidget box you are,” he sniffed, “of course I don’t believe that for an instant. But whatever it is, it definitely agrees with you. You’re glowing. Absolutely radiant.”
“It’s the fresh air and being around my friends.”
“I don’t believe that for an instant either, but if you’re going to be mysterious, I shall just have to badger you unmercifully until you break.”
The engines roared to life, the boat shuddering like a living thing as it moved slowly away from the dock.
“She’s a beauty,” Harm remarked, anxious to steer the conversation in another direction.
A young Hispanic man in white steward’s jacket and Bermuda shorts appeared, coming to a respectful stop beside Marty.
“I’m having Mimosa,” he told them, “unless you’d prefer something else.”
“No, that’s fine.”
“Same here.”
Marty nodded once and the young man disappeared. A moment later, he reappeared with a silver tray bearing three tall, slender glasses of orange juice, a slice of fresh orange on the rim.
“Oh, that’s good,” Elgin sighed. “I couldn’t tell you how long it’s been since I had Mimosa. Especially with fresh squeezed orange juice and just the right amount of champagne.”
“That’s because you’ve chosen that urban rat race,” he scolded lightly. “Now that you’re rich and famous and could live anywhere you want, you should come home. Back to simple things like fresh orange juice and the people who love you.”
“I like the urban rat race,” she laughed. “I always said that I enjoy the lake in the summer but that at heart, I’m a city girl. John Denver not withstanding, I’ve always thought living in the country was vastly overrated, especially in the dead of winter with six feet of snow on the ground and no propane because the truck couldn’t get through. Nope. Give me concrete and electric lights any day in the week.”
“And what about you Mr. Harm?” Marty asked suddenly, focusing those pale eyes on him as he sipped his drink.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Harm stalled as he tried to recover. “Never spent much time in the country. I like it well enough but I guess I’m just a city boy.”
“Well, you never know what you might like until you try it.”
The face remained impassive but those eyes continued to watch him…study him almost. A cold breath prickled the hairs on the back of his neck.
“Breakfast is served,” announced the young man, holding open the salon door.
“Ah, good.” Marty rose and waited for Elgin and Harm.
“A little light buffet,” he told them, taking Elgin’s arm. “Nothing elaborate. Just had the cook throw together whatever he had. Hope you don’t mind potluck.”
Harm felt as if he’d stepped into a fine restaurant. Rich, dark wood blended perfectly with glove soft cream suede and brass accents. Instead of portholes, large windows on each side gave a view of the passing scenery.
A buffet table ran along one wall for perhaps ten feet, an older man in a tall chef’s cap at one end and a middle aged gentleman in the same kind of outfit as the young Hispanic, stood at the other end.