“Linc?” A note of concern had crept into his father’s voice, but Linc had no illusions that it was about him. His father would only worry that his afterthought of a son would do something to attract police attention. “Son, why don’t you have a cup of tea with us. Then we’ll go home. Mattie will have an explanation for why he was in the shed.”
To pressure me with Abigail’s missing necklace. Linc rinsed off his plate. It was handmade pottery, as carefully chosen as everything else in his uncle’s kitchen—the cool tile floors, the muted colors, the custom cabinets. Dinner had been clay-pot chicken with rosemary from the garden, locally grown early peas, crusty bread from a Bar Harbor bakery. Linc had shoved his food around his plate, pretending to eat.
“I don’t want tea,” he said, turning from the sink.
Grace sighed, her reserves worn thin. “Oh, Linc. This day’s been difficult enough without you getting sullen.”
“I’m going to look for Mattie.”
“No!”
His sister jumped up, but their father shook his head, saying calmly, “Let him go. The mosquitoes will chase him inside soon enough.”
“But Mattie attacked someone today.”
“Abigail,” Jason said, as if that explained everything.
Grace spun around at him. “You make it sound as if she deserved what she got.”
“Not deserved.” He didn’t raise his voice. “She’s capable, Grace. She’s an experienced homicide detective. She can handle herself.”
“Mattie could have slit her throat today.”
“I don’t think so. He had a rusted saw that probably hadn’t been sharpened in fifteen years, and he had only a split second to act—not enough of an opening for someone of his abilities and limitations to have succeeded in doing more than what he did.”
“You can be so calculating sometimes,” Grace said.
“I’m just trying to be objective and understand the situation.”
Linc had heard enough. He let the screen door bang shut on his way out. Abigail and Owen had headed out to look for Mattie even before the police had arrived, but as well as they knew their way around the surrounding woods, Mattie knew them better. He’d grown up there, he’d photographed them. With the fog and the oncoming darkness, no one would find him unless he wanted to be found.
The police hadn’t asked Linc outright if he’d seen Mattie. He hadn’t volunteered what he knew, but he hadn’t lied.
One of the FBI agents—Special Agent Capozza—stood in front of the shed door, brushing at a cloud of mosquitoes hovering over him.
Linc gave him a sympathetic smile. “They’re bad tonight, aren’t they? Early morning and early evening are the worst times. You want to be careful of West Nile.” He peered past him into the shed. “Was Mattie in there for sure?”
“You’ll have to talk to Lieutenant Beeler or ChiefAlden.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Capozza whacked a mosquito on his arm, grimacing when it spurted blood. “Looks like I got that one too late. Your father and sister still here?”
“They’re having tea in the kitchen. I want to go look for Mattie.”
“Why?”
Linc felt a surge of emotion. “Because he’s my friend. Because I don’t think he’d ever hurt anyone. I don’t want some trigger-happy cop to shoot him just because—”
“Whoa, whoa. Watch what you say, Mr. Cooper.”
“He didn’t kill Chris Browning.”
The FBI agent tilted his head back and eyed Linc. “Why do you say that?”
“Chris was my friend, too. And he was Mattie’s friend.”
“Sounds like everyone’s friends up here.” Capozza wasn’t paying attention to the mosquitoes now. “But we’ve got a string of unsolved burglaries, an unsolved attack and robbery, an unsolved murder, and now—”
“I need to go.” Linc sniffled, pushing back an urge to cry. “Ellis has bug repellent inside if you want some.”
“Suppose you and I go in together and find it?”
“What?”
“I’d like to talk to you.”
An hour later, Linc sat stiffly in his sister’s car as they headed back to Somes Sound. She was driving too fast for the conditions. Thick fog, high emotion. He was too scared to say anything in case he threw off her concentration and she wrapped them around a tree.
“What did you and Special Agent Capozza talk about?”
“Nothing much. How well I knew Chris. How well I know Mattie. I didn’t tell him anything people around here don’t already know.” I didn’t tell him about the blackmail and the four grand.
“Did he ask about me?” She gripped the wheel with both hands. “Because I deserve to know if he did.”
“He was trying to get all our relationships straight in his head. That’s all.”
She took in his words with a nod. “I don’t want anything to happen to Mattie, but if it does, it’s not my doing. Or yours. Or Father’s, no matter how frustrating he can be. And Ellis—did you see him, Linc? He’s a wreck.”
“He just doesn’t want Mattie to slit his wrists under one of his rhododendrons.”
“Linc!” She pounded on the brake, the car screeching to a halt in the middle of the fog-enshrouded road. “Damn you. You inconsiderate little bastard. I’ve stood by you as you’ve flunked out and gotten yourself thrown out of school after school.”