Travis sat up, looking interested. «Yeah, good. That would be good. I like repairing outboard motors. And the boats do need some maintenance. I noticed that when I went out with Casper. Sebastian was telling Jesse and Phillip he would take them out in a boat, go around Glacier Bay if they wanted to get pictures. That might be good, you know, something to do for the guys who don't fish.» His fingers curled into fists. «Peter, do you think they might arrest me for killing Jacob?»
Peter sat down with him at the table. «Travis, I can't imagine anyone who knows you thinking you could hurt someone.» «But I have, Peter. Lots of times.» «What?»
«I was a Marine Infantryman. We're at war. I've killed people before, Peter. I think. I don't know for sure. But I aimed my rifle and fired, and if I didn't kill people it was because I'm a bad shot. And I'm not a bad shot.»
Peter couldn't think of anything to say. Looking into Travis' face, looking at the pain and knowledge in his eyes, there was nothing to say. «Travis, go pick me some dill. I'll make your favorite food for tea.»
Travis stood up, smiling. «The smoked salmon pizza? With sour cream and dill? Thanks, Peter. You know, I've tasted some of that smoked salmon they make in Scotland. Those people, they don't have a clue what to do with a salmon. Peter, that girl, Charlie. Is she okay?» «I'm not sure, Travis. Will you help her out if she needs a hand?»
He nodded. «I think somebody hurt her, Peter. She's got red marks and bruises on her arms, like somebody grabbed her and she had to twist to get away. You think it was the guy? The one who got her pregnant?»
«I don't know, Travis. Bring some cilantro as well, while you're there. And some of the green onions.» Peter still couldn't bear to go out in the garden. «After tea, we'll see about getting her over to the clinic so they can check on her, make sure the baby is okay.» «I'll drive her, Peter.»
Susan walked into the kitchen and pulled out one of the kitchen chairs. She didn't speak for a moment, but got to work tapping her pen on the edge of the table and staring off into space. Peter was coming to recognize this as her concentration face. You go, girl. Susan had a strong, tough mind and she was a reader. Peter hoped she was smarter than he and Sebastian. Especially since they hadn't come up with anything new putting their heads together. Peter had always admired Susan's powers of concentration and deductive reasoning. He was sure she would figure it all out.
«You want to hear something weird?» Peter assumed this was a rhetorical question; when had he ever wanted to hear anything weird? But she just kept talking. «Nobody knows who the pilot was who flew them in here. It was a five-seater out of Juneau, and the airline claims that Dave was scheduled to fly that route but he got stuck somewhere doing an
emergency medevac – some guy wrecked his sno-go, had big-time head trauma. So they say either Angus or that Russian kid they call Vlad did the run. So now they're hiding from me and running all over the place trying to make sure Vlad's paperwork's in order to be in this country and he isn't some Russian mafia type trying to hide out in Alaska. But nobody really knows for sure who flew them in. Apparently the manifests or something are missing. And that's not all.» «It's not?» Peter hated the way his voice sounded so quavery and weak.
«I really need that paperwork on Nelson – when you hired him, references, like that. I can't get him to come talk to me, and I can't get him to hold still for fingerprints. He's acting weird. I even sent Howie out here to try and find him but Nelson hotfooted it into the woods when he saw him coming. Do you even know if Nelson is his first or last name?»
«Uh…» Peter thought back to the paperwork he had filled out when Nelson had first come to work at the hotel. «It's his last name. First name is initial A.» «Peter, you don't even know his first name?»
«He had a Social Security card, Susan. He's been here for nearly…what, four years? I've never had a problem. You've never had a problem with him, right?»
«That's true,» Susan admitted. «It's been a long time since the garden staff at the Heartbreak littered up my drunk tank every weekend. But Nelson doesn't have a bank account in town. He cashes his checks at the grocery store and buys his beans and saltines with cash.» Beans and saltines?
«Don't you think that's a little suspicious?» She studied his face. «Peter, why don't you know anything about him?»
«I guess…I don't really like him. I feel badly about it, because he's a good gardener, and he's never done anything to, you know, deserve my not liking him! But he doesn't make eye contact. He'll look at you, then his eyes go skittering off like he doesn't want direct eye
contact. I don't know. He's sort of unpleasant, but nothing I could, you know, mark him down on an employee evaluation over. I know it's kind of weird, but I feel like it's wrong to be prejudiced against somebody because they are unattractive in their manner, you know, or in their physical appearance.»
«Uh-huh. Jesus, Peter, you need a keeper. Has it ever occurred to you that your instincts may be telling you something? Not that it means anything about Jacob, but still. You're so very civilized. And it's not a civilized world. Oh, and here's something else weird.» «There's more? Do I have to hear this one?» «It's about Jacob, Peter. His cop lover told me why he came to Alaska.»
Travis came back in the kitchen door with the basket of herbs. «Peter, you want anything else?» Peter shook his head. «I'm gonna go…» He pointed to the living room.
When he left, Peter stood and started rinsing the green onions. He put them on a little cutting board and started chopping. «Okay, I'm ready. Tell me.»
Susan raised her eyebrows, but beyond a faint smirk didn't mention his peculiar need to cut veggies in times of stress. «Jacob didn't have a father. I mean, he wasn't raised with a father. But his lover said that Jacob's father came from Alaska. That his mom had been up here for school in Fairbanks and met his dad, and they fell in love, and Jacob was born in Alaska. The cop thought that Jacob's dad was in the military, stationed at one of the bases up there. But then something happened, and his mom took him and went back to California. She was already pregnant with Miriam. But anyway, Jacob's lover said that he used to talk about coming to Alaska, trying to find his father's family. Did he say anything to you, Peter? About any of this?»
Peter shook his head. «Sebastian has been saying that Jacob looked Athabascan. Oh, my God! Susan! Travis told me something, that Tiny had been in the Navy, and he was stationed down in San Diego and he got thrown into jail. Maybe Jacob's mother…» His mind boggled at the picture of elegant, slim, beautiful young Jacob, holding his cello, and Tiny, with his
enormous gut and wild black hair and Subic Bay tattoos covering most of his exposed skin, holding his spatula, working a moose burger on the grill. Still, Tiny could sing like… «No fucking way. Oh, sorry. Never mind. I refuse to even consider… Susan, about Jacob. I didn't know him. We didn't talk. I mean, it was just…» He took a deep breath. «I don't know what he came here looking for. But I suspect it wasn't me, Susan.»
Susan propped her chin in her hand and watched him with serious eyes. «Peter, can I ask you something personal?»
«What?» Peter stared down at the cutting board and started mincing the cilantro extremely fine, the sharp, bright green tang filling his nose.
«What did you think you were doing? Did you really believe that everyone in this town wouldn't know about you and Jacob? There are two hundred eighty-one people who live on this island, Peter. You are one of them. And Sebastian is one of them.» * * * * *