I shook my head. “I’m not going to dump all this stuff on you. This is your vacation up here. Enjoy it. Go fishing. Hunt down Audrey. Whatever problems Dad and I have to deal with, well, we’ll deal with them.”
Bob shrugged. “You need to talk things over, you know where to find me. Think I’ll grab myself a nap, go back out again this aft. Leonard keeps wanting to hang out, go fishing or hiking. All he wants to do is talk about this goddamn resort of his. If he actually gets to build that thing, this lake won’t be worth a shit anymore. Your dad thought of lodging any sort of objection with the Braynor council?”
“I think Dad sort of has his hands full at the moment.”
“Well, if he gets a minute, he should do that. The only way you can stop something like that is to mount some sort of opposition.”
“Bob, I hear ya. You might want to mention it to Dad yourself.”
He mulled that one over. “Yeah, good idea.”
Bob stepped aside to let me out of the storeroom. I strode over to Dad’s cabin, throwing the door open so hard it hit the wall. “Dad!”
“In here,” he said. He was in his study, hanging up the phone. “I’ve been calling some other lawyers. I tried two other ones in Braynor, figuring I’d try to get someone close before going to other towns, and the moment I mention who I want them to send a letter to, they say they’re too busy.”
“This town’s scared of the Wickenses,” I said. “I’m scared of the Wickenses.”
“Maybe I should drop it. If those people really had anything to do with setting that other lawyer’s house on fire, I mean, do I need those kinds of problems?”
“I don’t know, Dad.”
“And by the way, what the hell happened out front of Lana’s, anyway?”
I ignored the question. I didn’t want to talk about it. “Here’s an idea, Dad. Why don’t you put this place on the market and sell? Get the hell out of here. Fast as possible. Buy another fishing camp someplace else.”
“That’s your plan? To run away? And who do you think would buy this place, knowing they were going to inherit tenants like the Wickenses?”
I ran a hand over the back of my neck, tried to massage it. I was feeling a bit tense.
“I think we need to have another chat with Orville,” I said. “A really serious chat. I’m willing to put aside the fact that he seems to be a total asshole to see if we can get something done here. There are more things going on than I realized at first.”
“Like what?”
I told him about May Wickens and her son. How she desperately wanted to get away from her father. How her son was on a daily curriculum of hate and prejudice.
“How’s that your problem?” Dad asked. “Don’t we have enough problems without taking on hers? I want them all out of there, and I guess that would include her and her boy. She can figure out how to get away once they’ve moved someplace else.”
I was silent. There wasn’t much to admire in what Dad said, but it made a lot of sense just the same.
“You got a number for Orville?” I asked.
Dad dug out an address book next to his computer, folded it open to a particular page, and handed it to me. “This his cell?” I asked, and Dad nodded. I punched the number into the phone on Dad’s desk.
“Hello?”
“Orville? Zack Walker.”
“What,” he said flatly.
“Listen, I’m sorry about everything at the café. I think you and I need to get past all that crap, because there’s a real problem out here, has to do with the daughter at the Wickens place. May. That’s her name. I think she’s in real trouble and I think we need to find some way to help her out. I’m willing to stop being a pain in the ass to you if you’ll come out so we can talk about this.”
“I kinda got my hands full with a murder investigation,” he said. “Remember?”
“I understand. Are you still coming out here tomorrow morning to look for the bear?” I kept any skeptical tone out of my voice.
“Depends. On how things go with Tiff’s murder. But if I get a chance, I’ll swing by later this afternoon, about this other problem of yours.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.” And I hung up. I picked up the phone again, impulsively, and dialed Sarah’s number at The Metropolitan.
“Hey,” I said.
“How’s your dad?”
“Okay.”
“Say hi to him for me.”
“Sarah says hi.”
“Hi,” said Dad. He got out of his chair and, using his crutches, edged past me. “I’m making coffee,” he whispered to me. “Want some?”
I nodded. What would we do without coffee? “How’re the kids?” I asked Sarah.
“Same old same old,” Sarah said. “Fights over the car, seeing as how we’re down one with you up there. Paul’s ignoring curfew, Angie would rather date than study, I want to kill myself. There was a story on the wires the other day, mother kills her entire family. I thought: Been there. How ’bout with you?”
“Okay. Listen, you got Lawrence Jones’s number there?”
There was an instant chill from the other end of the line. “What do you want Lawrence for?”