Cards on the Table - lanyon Josh - Страница 40

that was the thing. Every time he put his face into a soft, warm towel, he would remember it as Peter's small gift to him.

Downstairs Travis was hovering over a young girl who was, indeed, very pregnant. She had a numb, exhausted look, kept one hand on the side of her belly. Sebastian moved to her side. «Charlie, what's wrong? Is the baby moving?»

She nodded, but looked so done in Peter thought she couldn't speak if she wanted to.

«Sweetie, have you eaten?» She shook her head. She had long, straight dark hair and a heart-shaped face with a pointed chin. «Well, it's time for tea. We have a good recliner over here, Charlie. You just lean back and put your feet up, and I'll get something for you to drink.»

Travis started to help her to her feet, but Peter gestured for him to follow. «Travis, I need you in the kitchen.»

«She only knows Sebastian,» Peter told him after the kitchen door had closed behind them. «Charlie was looking a little overwhelmed. Let's give them some breathing room.»

Overwhelmed was a good word to describe Travis, too, Peter thought, watching him sink into a kitchen chair. He'd showered and put on clean clothes, but the bourbon fumes were still hanging on, and he wasn't all that steady on his feet.

«Peter, listen. I'm sorry about last night. I wasn't on duty, and something happened. Mike got hurt. This morning, I mean.» He shook his head. «Casper and Tiny, they were talking to me about what I should do. You know, just in case. And I just felt… Well, I guess it got away from me.»

«What you should do about what?» Peter pulled the smoked salmon and the sour cream out of the refrigerator.

«If I'm arrested.» Peter turned around, stared in shock. «Casper said that military men, we're all presumed to be a little more violent than the rest of the world. And law enforcement looks at us first. And Tiny, did you know he was in the brig for two years, down

in San Diego? He beat up an officer, and the Navy threw him in jail and gave him a dishonorable. He said he was drinking more back then. Anyway, they were telling me what we needed to do just in case, and the whole thing, Peter, it was just too much. I'm not making excuses, but…»

«But it sounds like you are making excuses, Travis.» Peter's voice was gentle. «I can't believe they would arrest you, but even so, I think we need to make a change. I'm pulling you off nights, and I want you on the day shift. Not the front desk, either. Sebastian tells me the boats need work before the summer. I need them fixed up.» Peter waved a vague hand. «Whatever you need to do to boats. Maintenance on the engines. Scrape and paint the bottoms. Whatever. Get them ready for fishing and maybe tours of the bay. Can you do that?»

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.»