“Yeah, he’s at his therapy now.” Evan watched Jacob nod and then begin to unpack a box of spinner lures. “Jacob, I know I owe you a beer.”
“Three, I think,” Jacob said, giving him a smile.
Evan didn’t return it. “But could we go get some coffee in lieu of those? I need to speak with you about something.”
Jacob looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, boyo, what’s this about?”
“Jason’s grandparents.” He watched Jacob’s face fall a little. “I know about everything.”
Jacob sighed, looking down at the glass top of his counter. A boy no older than seventeen, holding a stack of fishing vests, came out of the back room behind Jacob and paused, his eyes going from his boss to Evan.
“Nate, why don’t ya watch the store fer a while,” Jacob said.
“Sure thing, Mr. Collins.”
“Come with me, Evan,” Jacob said, heading through the doorway behind the counter.
Evan followed him, smiling politely at Nate as he went by. The room behind the counter held several tall shelves stocked with boxes of fishing gear of all sorts. Jacob led the way through the stacks to a gray steel door with a cartoon taped to it. Jacob opened it and beckoned Evan inside.
“Me office,” Jacob said, closing the door behind them. “Ignore the mess, will ya?”
The office was spacious, with two wide windows overlooking the lake. Dark paneling lined the walls, and several massive fish were mounted here and there, their taxidermied eyes glaring in glassy stares. Jacob’s desk had piles of papers and photos littering both ends, with a clear path down to the wood in the middle. The air smelled of sweet tobacco. Evan sat in a threadbare chair in front of the desk, while Jacob rummaged below it on the other side.
“I know it’s early, but it’s noon somewhere, me father used ta say,” Jacob said, standing with a can of Budweiser in one hand.
Evan almost said no, and then sat forward, taking the ice-cold can from the older man. “Thank you.”
“I keep a little stocked at the back of the fridge,” Jacob said, pulling another can out. “Keep it fer emergencies, mind ya.”
“Is this an emergency?” Evan asked, opening his beer.
Jacob’s eyes darkened. “No, but it helps.” He snapped his beer open and took a sip, pulling the corners of his mouth tight as he swallowed. “Me wife’d kill me ass if she knew we were drinkin’ in here. But what she don’t know won’t hurt me.”
Evan said nothing and drank. It tasted good and felt great on his parched throat.
“I suppose Jason told ya the nasty details?”
“He did.”
“Then ya know how much I cared for Daniel, his granddad.”
Evan remained silent, and Jacob continued, looking down at his beer.
“When Ray passed away, Daniel and Maggie were devastated, as was I. I took food out ta them from time ta time, jest ta help out. When I saw Daniel startin’ down the road of depression, I took him fishin’. It was all I knew ta do ta ease the pain. We’d spend hours in the boat, and even though he’d be away from Maggie most of the day, she didn’t mind so much once Dan started comin’ back around.”
Jacob took another long drink from his beer, and set it down but kept his fingers wrapped around it.
“I guess in a way we did some replacin’ of sorts. He became me best friend, and I became somethin’ like a son ta him.”
“Why did you lie to me when we first came here and I asked if you knew Jason’s grandparents?” Evan said. The earlier anger diminished when he saw how affected Jacob was.
“I didn’t want ta scare ya away.” Jacob rolled his tongue around in his mouth, as if tasting something bitter. “Lots a rumors fly around this little town. People gab when they shouldn’t, make up parts where they’ve lost the story, and soon ya have shit rollin’ around town that’s nothin’ like the truth.” Jacob looked at Evan, his eyes sad but sober. “I didn’t want ya gettin’ scared off by a bunch of ghost stories.”
Ghost.
“What do you mean?”
“After Dan and Maggie passed, all kinds of things were said. Superstitious bunkum, all of it. I tried ta quell it. It made me madder than a shaken hornet, but people will talk, as they say.”
Evan sipped his beer and looked past Jacob’s shoulder, to where the island sat on the lake. “What do you know about the clock?”
Jacob finished his beer and set the can down with a thunk. “Ugliest stack of sticks I’ve laid eyes upon. Dan bought it at auction when the title dispute fer the Kluge property was finally resolved, got it as a project ta fix on.” Jacob laughed once, a short bark, and shook his head. “I asked him, ‘Dan, why would ya want a feckin’ clock that don’t work?’ and he jest said it was valuable.”
“When did he buy it?”
“About a year before they passed, I suppose.”
“And did Daniel seem different after he bought it?”
Jacob eyed Evan, wariness on his features for the first time since they’d met. “This fer yer article?”
“Yes, and out of curiosity.”
Curiosity killed the cat.
Jacob paused and then pulled another can of beer out of the fridge beneath his desk. “Evan, I like ya, boyo, but I won’t tolerate Dan and Maggie being misrepresented. Follow?”
“I follow. I just want to know.”
Jacob stared at the desk. “He became a little distant after buyin’ the clock. Maggie told me once that sometimes he’d spend most of the day down in the basement, tinkerin’ away. You see, he bought that thing in several pieces. Someone had partially dismantled it durin’ the years, maybe tryin’ ta do the very thing that Dan was.” Jacob shrugged. “Either way, Dan was no clockmaker, but he was smart and good with his hands. He got it mostly assembled, showed it ta me one day before we went out on the lake.”