Текст книги "Cards on the Table"

Автор книги: Josh lanyon

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Tiny and Casper each had him under an arm, and they were coming home in a cloud of bourbon and beer. Travis could sing, and did, even if he couldn't walk.

Tiny spotted Sebastian first, roared out a greeting. «Hey! Bossa Nova, baby! When did you get here?»

Sebastian waved at him, but it looked to Peter more like he was waving him off, the sat phone still pressed to his ear. Tiny turned to Casper. «Hey, man! Did you know Sebastian was here? He's got those sexy Elvis looks, man, even if he can't sing for shit. You should see him dancing to 'Jailhouse Rock,' and every cock in the… Susan!»

Tiny poured Travis into Casper's arms. Casper gave the scene in the kitchen such a comprehensive scan that Peter was sure he wasn't as drunk as his two companions. Casper nodded at him. «Let me put Romeo to bed. I'll be back.»

Tiny gave Susan a hug. «Peter, you cooking breakfast, bro? Waffles? Holy shit, I'm staying for breakfast. Make me four, man.»

Sebastian stared at him, appalled, then disconnected the sat phone and turned to Peter. «Sebastian, what happened? Was it the Yukon? Is the river ice there yet?»

He shook his head. «Peter, you're not gonna believe…» He stopped, scrubbed down hard over his face with both hands. «Peter, that idiot kid I left there got tanked on home brew, kicked his pregnant girlfriend in the belly, then burned down the cabin.»

Peter stared at him, his mind like a whiteout, blanked out like an Alaskan snowstorm. «What?»

«Burned down,» Sebastian repeated, sinking to the floor. «Charlie's on her way here. She didn't have anywhere else to go, so I told her to come. Peter, she's seven months pregnant.»

«What was the guy looking for in Jacob's room?» Susan was chewing on a thumbnail. «He must have known that we took the duffel bag. I mean, we took everything, right?» She stared at Sebastian in shock. «What? What did you say? A fire?» Peter blinked. «Maybe he was looking for the journal. Jacob's journal.»

«What journal, Peter? Jacob didn't have a journal in the stuff we took from his room.»

«I don't know, Susan. Didn't you say he had a journal? Somebody did. I don't remember. I mean, I never saw a journal, but somebody said he had one.»

«There was no journal in his things.» Susan started paging back through her memo book. «You're right, Peter. It was Travis. He said he was at the front desk and Jacob came downstairs and found his journal.» «So who else was in the room when Travis mentioned the journal?»

«Let's see: me, you, Travis, Nelson, Mike. My deputy, Howie. Maybe some of the EMTs.»

«Wasn't Casper there? Jesse and Phillip?» Peter couldn't remember. His memory was getting fuzzy the last few days, scattered, flashes of intense feeling rather than actual memories. When he looked up again, and put a big plate of golden brown waffles on the table, the kitchen was empty except for Susan, staring blankly down at her memo book, tapping her pen on the edge of the table. «Where did everybody go?»

«Tiny staggered out. I think that's him snoring like a log truck on the couch. Sebastian left in a snit.» «What's he in a snit about?»

Susan made a note in her notebook. «Well, he told you his home had burned down, Peter. And then you replied by saying something about Jacob's journal.»

Peter felt a frisson of shock in his belly. «Susan, that's ridiculous! His home is a fishing shack with an outhouse. My home is Sebastian's home. He knows that. It has been for, what, fifteen years?» «I think closer to twenty,» she said.

«I'm the one who should be in a snit! How long is he going to give me this time before he starts getting itchy feet, starts playing with his sleds and snowshoes and staring at the horizon like he's a desperate con about to go over the wall?»

«Listen, can I ask you something? Do you guys ever just have a conversation? You know, talk?» Susan stood up, put her memo book in her pocket. She took the top waffle off the stack. «I'll have mine to go. Thanks, Peter.» * * * * *

Peter couldn't believe it. Jacob was living with a cop? A cop put those marks on his body? Cops were supposed to be like Susan. They were the people you turned to when there was an emergency. Cops were people who would come and help you when you were in trouble. Cops weren't supposed to be hulking bullies who kept their younger, smaller lovers tied to them with the threat of violence, or with battering, hateful fists. Peter couldn't get that picture out of his mind, of Jacob cowering, covering his head with his arms, while angry blows, fists and feet, rained down on his fragile, naked back. It wasn't right. That he was a cop made it a hundred times worse.

Peter picked up the phone and dialed the number Jacob had listed when he made his reservations. «Yeah.» The voice was sleepy and gruff. «Yeah, hello?» «Did you know Jacob Klein?» «Who the fuck is this?»

«This is Peter Moon in Alaska. The police here told me you have an alibi for the night Jacob was murdered, so I guess that means you didn't kill him. Do you have an alibi for the bruises up and down his back?»

The man's voice was hoarse and ragged, like he'd been screaming, or crying in his sleep. «Whatever I did to him, I never got him killed, you son of a bitch. He came to your hotel and he was murdered.» His voice broke. «Did you touch my Jacob, you sorry fuck? And now he's dead? When we find out why, Peter Moon, we're gonna find out that it's your fault Jacob is dead. And then I'm coming for you.» * * * * *

The living room smelled like Susan's drunk tank. Tiny was snoring on one sofa. Jesse was covering him with the cashmere throw, and Phillip was trying to wrestle his bunny boots off.

Casper came down the stairs. His face was damp, as if he had thrown cold water over his face. «Where's Travis?»

«I put him to bed up in my room. He's too drunk to go home, Peter. We ought to watch him today.» «And how did that happen, exactly?»

Casper gave him a narrow-eyed look. «I guess it happened the usual way, Peter. Unless you want to physically restrain him, which I believe is considered kidnapping, you can't keep that adult man from drinking bourbon with me and Tiny.»

Peter felt a bit shamefaced. «I'm sorry, Casper. You're right. I don't know what's wrong with me today.» It seemed like every time he opened his mouth he was making someone

angry, deservedly so, because he was, in fact, acting like an asshole. «Casper, I'm sorry,» he said again. «I've put you in a terrible position. I don't know what I'm thinking this morning.» Casper nodded. «You've got a full plate right now, Peter.»

Peter had seen the Yukon ice break up once. He'd been up the river, camping with Sebastian. The power of the thing, the inexorable tumble and tear when the ice started moving, the noise of it, the shrieks and roars of the ice tearing itself to pieces had made him feel so utterly small and helpless, made him want to put his hands over his ears and hide his face in his sweater. He'd hated it, and of course Sebastian had pulled off his long undershirt, bared his huge chest to the sky, thrown his arms out like he was daring the river to come and get him, bellowed with joy at the cold, and the coming spring.

Peter was starting to feel that again, the inexorable flow of events. Like the river was heading this way, and the ice was tearing up everything in its path. He turned on his heel and went back into the kitchen, got the five-gallon plastic ice cream bucket with the handle he used for picking blueberries. He went back through the living room to the front door.

«Jesse, Phillip, there's breakfast in the dining room. I apologize about the absence of any fresh fruit; I put out a fruit salad you might like, but…»

They were both looking at him with sad, sweet faces, very puppylike. «Peter, you're working yourself to death! Why don't you let us fix lunch for you?» Jesse looked ready to slip a cardigan over his shoulders. Phillip would bring the slippers. Was he turning into Mr. Rogers?

«It's true I'm feeling a bit undone,» he admitted, «but cooking is what I do to relax!» He shushed them, headed for the door. «You two are doing me a huge favor already by watching those puppies. Puppies today might be the final straw.»

The front gravel drive and lawn was still torn up from the emergency vehicles, the tire ruts full of muddy water. The sun seemed to be playing hide and seek with the clouds. One moment the sky was bright blue, the next cold gray shadows skittered across his face. Peter

walked around to the back gardens, avoiding his beautiful kitchen gardens with the seedy and forlorn crime scene tape trampled into the mud.

The baby moose was nowhere to be seen, but Nelson stuck his head out of the greenhouse, then waved and went back in, like a turtle ducking into his shell. When Nelson had first come to work here, he was so diligent with the gardening that Peter had kept a close eye for marijuana seedlings popping up between the parsley and the cilantro, but so far, nothing illegal.

The blueberry bushes were neatly mulched, clean and a joy to pick. They were an Alaskan varietal, with extra early berries. Peter started filling the bucket, ate a few berries that were fat and warm and bursting with juice. The paths down to the boat dock were in good repair, too. Nelson kept a tidy garden, and Peter could see Sebastian down at the dock. He had one of the fishing boats tied up. The outboard motor was pulled up and out of the water, and Sebastian was shaking out the life vests.

Peter sat down on the edge of the dock, ate a few more blueberries. Sebastian kept working. He was always working. If he didn't have any of his own work to do, he would go out and find some, like he was doing now. Peter tossed a blueberry in his direction. Sebastian turned his back.

O-kay! It wasn't like he didn't have a home. Sebastian had a home with him anytime he wanted one! As long as he wanted one. But what was their longest – eight or nine months? That was as long as Sebastian had ever lasted before he started getting twitchy, before he had to head off into the wilderness and live alone like a brown bear in a cave. But did Sebastian really feel like this thing he'd had with Jacob, that might have…

Peter tossed a fat blueberry Sebastian's way. It fell into the bottom of the boat. Sebastian picked it up and tossed it out into the waters of the bay as if he was used to blueberries falling into his boat from the open sky. He looked good, faded Levi's snug against his ass, and a polar fleece pullover the same color blue as the glaciers surrounding Icy Straits.

Peter had put it in his drawer months ago, and Sebastian had put it on this morning. This was how Sebastian got all his new clothes.

Their little spit of land was tucked up close against the mountains, and the deep blue waters of Glacier Bay out the back door looked endless. The humpbacks would be coming back soon. This was his place, and this was Sebastian's place, too. He'd know that if he would just slow his restless feet down long enough to feel the pull, the ferocious tug of love that came with being home.

Susan was right. He was in a snit. Peter lobbed a couple of more blueberries in Sebastian's direction, endured being ignored, ate a few, closed his eyes when the sun was bright overhead and warmed his face. He got lucky on one toss, hit Sebastian in the back of the head. Sebastian stood up, rocking slightly with the movement of the boat, legs spread for balance. He put his hands on his hips, stared out at the water as if he were praying for patience. Then he turned around and stared at Peter, two vertical lines between his eyebrows. «I'm trying to get a boat ready so I can take your guests out on the bay, Peter.»

No, he wasn't in a snit. He was furious. Before he could think if it was a good idea, Peter snatched up another berry and bounced it off Sebastian's nose.

Sebastian was fast. He climbed up out of the boat and was across the deck before it could cross Peter's mind to run. Sebastian straddled him, knees pressed against his hips, big arms on either side of his head.

Sebastian stared down at him, then he reached into the bucket. «I could squash you like a bug.» He held a blueberry up to Peter's mouth. «Why are you trying to piss me off? It's not like you to make me mad and run me off before I've had anything to eat. I'm hungry, Peter.» He sat down on Peter, pinning him to the dock, and ate a handful of berries. That was as close to a whine as Peter had ever heard from Sebastian.

They eyed each other. «Your lips are blue,» Sebastian said. «Listen, I don't want to get into things yet. Things between you and me. We just need to get through these next few

days. Let Susan figure out what happened to Jacob. You and me…that's what I've got to depend on, Peter. You understand?»

Peter stared up at him. No, I don't understand. So what's new? Sebastian was so big, loomed over him so large that he blocked out the sun. From so close, with the light on his face, Peter could see signs of age in Sebastian's face, lines by his eyes and mouth, but they were sexy, warm like a ripe peach, and he still looked strong and unyielding as a mountain. Peter wanted this landscape every day. This was his mountain, and this was his view. Why couldn't they find a way to be together every day? Why was that so impossible? «I'm right here, Sebastian.» «Good.» Sebastian ate another couple of berries. «So just stay there.»

Peter wasn't sure this was the sort of conversation where they were actually talking to each other. It was more that they were talking in the vicinity of each other. But he was enjoying the crush of Sebastian's big body on his, enjoying the sun and the water and the blueberries. «I might have screwed up.» «What did you do, Peter?» «I called Jacob's cop.»

Sebastian snorted. «Ha. How 'bout that. And that means I just won ten bucks from Susan. How was it?»

«It was bad. No more than I deserve, I guess. He was pretty messed up. He should be, that cocksucker. But…he was pretty messed up. He said that when we knew who killed Jacob, it would turn out to be my fault that Jacob got killed. He said something about coming to get me.»

«Nah. I won't let him beat the shit out of you, Peter. I think dealing with you is a pleasure I will reserve for myself.»

Peter felt his eyes go wide, and Sebastian gave him a slow grin, his eyes hooded.

Casper came strolling down to the dock, hands shoved down in his pockets, and Sebastian climbed off Peter and offered his hand and the bucket of blueberries. «It's not domestic violence, Casper, no matter what it looks like.» Casper laughed and took a handful of berries, started popping them into his mouth like popcorn.

«Peter, listen. Maybe the night shift isn't such a good idea for Travis. He needs to have some hard, physical work to do, a regular routine, enough sleep and other people around him. And sunshine. You got any outdoor work like that for him?»

Peter let Sebastian pull him to his feet. «I can find some if that's what you think he needs, Casper. What do you think, Sebastian?»

«The boats aren't in the best shape, Peter. They could use some maintenance before the summer comes.» «Okay. When he regains consciousness I'll talk to him.»

Sebastian turned to Casper. «Listen, Casper. I don't know Mike hardly at all, and I haven't been around Travis much since he was a kid. But neither one of them strikes me as being a dangerous man. Or a man acting under some sort of desperate…whatever. What's your take?»

Casper nodded. «I'll have to agree with you. But they weren't the only men on the island. I think this island is too small to narrow the list of suspects down to just those who were at the hotel. The whole town knows when the Elvis contest is held at Tiny's. That would be a perfect time to take someone down.» He pointed a finger at Sebastian. «Mike and Travis?» Casper shook his head. «Now you, my friend. You strike me as a dangerous man.» Sebastian gave him an easy, lazy smile. «Ditto.»

Casper went off for a walk in the woods, with a promise of a boat ride in the afternoon, and Sebastian sat back down on the edge of the dock. «Peter, come sit down for a minute. Let's think. What else do you know about Jacob? Did he say anything about parents, family? Which symphony was he in? Did he mention any friends, anything like that?»

Peter shook his head. «I don't really know anything about him. Other than… Well, I guess his character. His nature. People are usually at their best when you first meet them, Sebastian, but I think he was probably always sweet and gentle. But other than that, I don't know. I can't believe there was anything about him that would make someone want to hurt him.»

«That's probably the most naive thing you've ever said, Peter. You didn't really know him. You said so yourself. But you can't talk to his cop again. Why don't we do a little research? Google him. Get to know him a bit. Let's see if we can figure out why he came here, if he was looking for something.» Sebastian turned and put a hand against Peter's face. «Looking for something besides you, I mean.»

They walked back up to the hotel, and Peter sat behind the computer and typed Jacob's name into Google Images. They scrolled down through thumbnails of physicists and philosophy professors and then there was Jacob, looking very young and handsome in a tux, standing next to his cello and smiling shyly at the camera. He had performed at a benefit concert for the Monterey County Rape Crisis Center last Christmas. Sebastian leaned forward and studied the screen. «He looks Athabascan, doesn't he?»

«Does he? I didn't think so. Ow!» Sebastian had twisted his ear lobe, hard. «What's that for?» «Jesus, Peter! He looks like me, twenty years ago!»

«No, he doesn't, Sebastian! He doesn't look anything like you! Besides, you've never worn a tux.» Peter shook his head. «You are so egocentric. You think I can't fall in love with anyone but you! I can fall in love with anybody I want!»

Sebastian was breathing hard through his nose, black eyes hooded. «You are too much, Peter. Okay, let's keep looking.»

In the news section, they found an article in the San Francisco Chronicle about the benefit concert, and the article quoted Mary Struthers, Executive Director of the Monterey

Rape Crisis Center. «Jacob Klein has been instrumental in our current fundraising campaign, sponsored by the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra. But more importantly, he has been a volunteer at the Center for over five years. His compassion for women and their families has made him one of our most respected counselors.»

Sebastian sat back, chewing on his bottom lip. «Peter, he volunteered at a rape crisis center?» «That sounds like him, Sebastian. He seemed to be a very giving –« «No, Peter, I mean, why a rape crisis center? Why there, exactly?» Peter thought about this. «I don't know. Seems like most people…»

«Most people would have had some personal experience with the place first. They wouldn't have drawn it out of a hat. Five years a volunteer, but what happened to bring him there in the first place?»

Peter was back on the keyboard, had the phone number of the Center and a little map from Yahoo, if he wanted to drive there. He picked up the phone. «The Internet is getting scary, Sebastian.»

When he got through to Mary Struthers' office, he found himself talking to a very suspicious woman. «I'm afraid I can't give you any information about our volunteers.»

«Ma'am. My name is Peter Moon. I'm the proprietor of the Heartbreak Hotel, in Gustavus, Alaska. Jacob Klein was staying at this hotel on his way to Montreal. He was murdered here two days ago.»

The woman's shocked gasp of breath told him she had not heard the news. «Where did you say you were calling from?» «Gustavus, Alaska.» «Give me your phone number, Peter Moon. I'll call you back.»

Ten minutes, and Sebastian was driving him crazy, studying the picture of Jacob. «Maybe Athabascan father, if his mother wasn't Native.»

«What were you doing twenty-six years ago? Ever have a fling with a girl from California?»

Sebastian waved a middle finger in his direction, and Peter turned away from him when the phone rang again. «Peter? This is Mary Struthers calling you back. I just got off the phone with the local police there in Gustavus. I can't even begin to tell you…» Her breath caught in her throat again. «I can't begin to tell you. I knew him quite well, we all did, and I am only consenting to speak with you, and to the police, about his confidential work here because the Community Resource Officer there in town told me that they have very few clues about his murderer, and because she told me you were his friend. He began volunteering here. I think he was nineteen or twenty.» «Why? I mean, what in particular…»

«That was the year his sister was raped. Miriam. She was fifteen, hurt badly. Very shy child. But she was brave, and went to the police. Jacob went with her. I think their mother had died the year before, so it was just the two of them. Anyway, they arrested the man, but then the police let him out on bail and he disappeared. Miriam couldn't take it, not knowing where he was. She was afraid he was coming after her again. She had been so brave up until then, with Jacob by her side every minute, but when the man disappeared, she became more and more fearful, reclusive and withdrawn. She hung herself while he was at class at the Conservatory. He always said he didn't feel guilty about leaving her alone that day, but I wondered. He had an audition he couldn't miss. The Conservatory is extremely competitive, and Jacob had won a full scholarship. So he couldn't really stop attending. Anyway, the point I wanted to make was that the man was never caught. The man who raped Miriam has never been caught.» * * * * *

Susan brought some news at lunch. «They didn't find anything that could be tested for DNA.» Peter turned from the buffet. «What does that mean, Susan?»

«Nothing under his fingernails. He didn't fight. The knot on the rope was in the back. It's good in one way, I guess. He was taken by surprise, so he didn't…» Her voice trailed off. «We're going to have to figure out what happened pretty quick. The state cops are gonna be here tonight.» «Well, they certainly raced to the scene, didn't they?»

Susan sniffed. The remote villages had learned to do without help from the cities, help that was slow in coming and grudgingly given. «I believe what happened to Jacob had something to do with the hotel,» Susan said. She raised a hand to stop him when Peter began to protest. «Just listen. He came into the airport. He came out here. He stayed here, other than a few short hikes around the place. And he was killed less than forty-eight hours after he got here.»

«He came in on the plane with us,» Jesse said. «He seemed okay, not really chatty, kind of down, but okay. We both figured…» He glanced at Phillip. «We figured that he'd just broken up with someone.» «Did he act like he recognized anyone? The pilot?»

Jesse and Phillip thought about it, and then shook their heads. Susan started a list. «Okay, we need to check the pilot on your flight. Any other passengers?» «No, just the three of us.» «At the airport?»

«The van was waiting for us. That man, the driver, he put all the bags in the back except the cello. Jacob told him he wanted to hold it, and he carried it between his knees on the drive out here.» Susan made another note.

«Nothing happened on the way?» They both shook their heads. «When you got to the hotel?»

«Peter came out the door to greet us. He was wearing those evergreen-colored corduroys and a turtleneck sweater the same color, and the sun was making his hair all shiny and gold, and when Jacob saw him, he said…» Jesse stopped, his face turning pink. «What?»

Jesse glanced at Sebastian with an apology on his face. «He said, 'Holy heart attack, Batman!'»

Sebastian looked up and met Peter's eyes, smiled a funny little smile. «That's what I think every time I see him, too.» Jesse and Phillip smiled in relief. «Then that driver…» «Nelson,» Susan said, reading from her book.

«Yeah. He carried our bags in and took them upstairs. Peter showed us to our rooms. Mike was already here, out on the sun porch, but it was just like, 'Hi, I'm Mike, Hi, I'm Jacob.' Nothing more than that. We met Casper at dinner, then Travis came on duty late. I know Travis talked to Jacob about being in Iraq, something about taking classes. I remember Jacob told him that he studied music. But Jacob, he couldn't hardly…» He stopped again. «I'm sorry, Peter. I don't mean to embarrass you or anything. But Jacob couldn't keep his eyes off you. I mean, he was like one of those 'love at first sight' guys, you know? It didn't surprise any of us when you two went upstairs, because you were just so…I don't know. Attracted to each other.»

«Yeah,» Phillip said. «Your face was real tender, Peter. When you looked at him, I mean. Everybody noticed.»

Susan tapped her notebook. «Okay, any mail delivered? Supplies?» Peter shook his head. «Tiny come by?»

«Yes! Tiny came with some crabs the first night we were here. I don't know if he met anyone, though. He just brought the crabs into the kitchen. Actually, he didn't even come in,

he had his boots on and he just handed them into me, said something about not wanting to mess up the floors.»

«Okay. So the only thing that happened was…» Susan's voice was reluctant. «Jacob fell for Peter. In an obvious way. So unless you have lots of people jealous of who you're sleeping with, Peter, Sebastian is the only person with motive to kill Jacob. Motive and opportunity, because he doesn't have an alibi.»

Sebastian shook his head and sighed, ran his big hands back through his black hair.

Peter pulled a chair out, noting clinically that his hands were shaking. «Susan, how can you even say that? It's ridiculous. Sebastian? You must be joking. Don't even say it.» «Really? Why is it impossible, Peter?» «Because Sebastian would never do anything to hurt me, or anyone else.»

«Well, you and I know that, because we know him. We're gonna have to find something more concrete, because the state cops are on the way and they're going to find out I called him and told him about Jacob. He's my brother so it won't matter what I say. They will automatically discount my word. We know he was up the Yukon, but all we can prove is that he was on the other end of a phone the day after the murder. I called him the night Jacob was killed and there was no answer. He could have been anywhere. Okay, what we need to do next is fingerprint everyone Jacob met for the first time here on the island.» Jesse reared back, shocked. «Fingerprints? Why?»

«Because there were only two hundred eighty-one people on the island when Jacob was murdered. And I know the whereabouts of most of our criminals. The majority of them were dressed up as Elvis tribute artists, singing, and directly under my eye during the time in question.» «Susan, listen. If we did something…»

She shook her head. «I've already sent in criminal background checks on you guys.» She winked at him. «Shoplifting a pair of red Calvin Klein briefs when you were sixteen don't count, buddy.» Jesse turned bright pink. «I never!» Phillip laughed. «That must have been me!»

Susan continued. «So that means I'm looking for someone who was fingerprinted but never convicted of a crime, or someone who is hiding his identity. Like this man who raped Jacob's sister, then disappeared. «

Peter stood up again and started reorganizing the napkins on the buffet. «Susan, I think he would have told me if he'd recognized someone. Certainly he couldn't have kept it a secret if he had seen that man. I didn't know him well, but he didn't seem like the sort of man who could keep a secret, you know? I mean, you could read his feelings in his face. He was utterly transparent.»

Sebastian stood suddenly and walked out of the room. Peter watched him go, barely listening to Susan. «Then maybe someone just thought Jacob recognized him. Or something happened between when you left for Elvis and he was killed. Less than two hours. Hard to imagine. But if it wasn't something like that, then we're back to Sebastian as having the only possible motive. Or you, Peter. And that is even more ridiculous to contemplate than thinking Sebastian could hurt that sweet young kid.»

Casper stood up and started rolling up his shirt sleeves. «We'll know the motive when we know the killer. We're just guessing until then. Susan, you got your gear? You can take my prints first.»

She nodded, pulled the cards and ink pads out of her bag. «Let's try and do everyone he had contact with, from the pilot on the plane that brought him in here. I can only investigate what happened after he got to the island, Peter. If his sister's rapist saw him somewhere else, on the plane from Seattle, in the airport, wherever, followed him and killed him, then he

somehow got back off the island without us finding him. I don't know, Peter. Let's just do the basics, and see what comes up. God is in the details.» «Susan, do we have a problem with rape on the island?»

Her face closed a bit. «Peter, anywhere there's a problem with alcohol, there's a problem with rape. Most of the time I don't hear about it except whispers and gossip. I would say nine times out of ten, I don't hear about it. But yes, we have a problem with alcohol. So we have a problem with rape.»

Peter went into the kitchen. Sebastian was standing at the big window, hands on his hips, staring out at the brilliant blue water that seemed to go on forever. «Wishing you were somewhere else? You don't have your bags packed, do you?»

Sebastian turned around, but he didn't speak, just looked at Peter for the longest time. Then he turned back to the window. «Nope. Wishing I hadn't been gone so much, Peter. Wondering if you've had enough.»

Peter couldn't think of anything to say. He joined him at the window. How long since he had stood in the sunshine and enjoyed this view? «Wondering if I've had enough of what?» «Of me. Of us. Peter, want to walk into town with me? I'll buy you a tangerine.»