Envy the Night

one had any idea where she was.

The sun was creeping out, sparkling off the water, and though her hair was streaming out behind her like a flag in gale-force winds, the trees on shore were still, untouched by any breeze. It was too calm, and that probably meant rain by the afternoon. The humidity felt wrong for so early in the day.

They went past one enormous rock that jutted angrily out of the water, then through a cluster of islands, and came out in a large bay that seemed even more desolate, only two other boats in sight. Ezra slowed and worked his way around what appeared to be a sandbar, then brought the motor back to a roar and the front of the boat lifted again and they were off, tearing past a bay filled with stumps and half-trees that seemed like menacing guards to the empty shoreline.

Nora shifted on her seat and thought about reaching out and tapping Ezra’s shoulder, asking him to stop and turn around. Take me back, she could say. I’ve been thinking about it, and this is wrong. We shouldn’t come out alone. We should leave that to the FBI and the police. They’ll know how to protect me; it’s what they do.

Ezra actually turned and looked at her then, and for a split second she wondered if she’d voiced her thoughts aloud, but then he faced the water again and she’d let the moment pass without saying a word.

A few minutes later he did slow the boat, and the motor quieted and Nora’s hair fell back around her shoulders. Out here there was nothing to look at but trees and water, no sign of another boat. Then she saw an island ahead, over Frank’s shoulder, partially blocked by his body.

“Shit.” This came from Frank. “There’s somebody down there, Ezra. Somebody on shore.”

Ezra leaned to the side for a clearer look. “Sure is. And it looks like the fella’s having a bit of trouble with his boat motor. Might be we should stop by and offer a bit of assistance.”

“He’ll recognize Nora and me.”

“Bound to happen sooner or later.” Ezra brought the boat’s speed down even more, eased in closer to the shore, and Nora looked over Frank’s shoulder and saw the man and the boat for the first time. It was the gray- haired Lexus driver, Vaughn, and he was looking up from the motor, his attention focused on the approaching craft. Nora slid down into the seat and tilted her head a bit, trying to put herself back behind Frank, out of Vaughn’s sight.

“Little trouble?” Ezra said, shouting over the sound of the motor.

Vaughn waved them away. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Sure about that? Doesn’t look like it’s going well.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Tell ya what,” Ezra yelled. “How about I come in and give it a look, and then you and me and your girlfriend have a chat? I’m the caretaker of this cabin. Feeling a bit guilty about the way I been neglecting you all.”

Though Ezra’s voice had been friendly, it produced a new rigidity to Vaughn’s body. He took a step back and let his hands fall away from the motor, studying them carefully now.

“The caretaker?” he asked. He was speaking to Ezra, but his eyes seemed to be on Frank.

“Uh-huh. That place has been my responsibility for a damn long time.”

“We’re doing fine,” Vaughn said, and the boat had drifted so Nora could no longer see him. She sat up straighter to compensate, and when she did Vaughn’s eyes locked on her face and she felt the recognition across the water a split second before he reached behind his back.

“Don’t.” It was a single word, spoken and not shouted, but somehow Ezra’s voice still seemed to boom out across the water and shake the trees. Nora saw that his arm was extended, his gun pointing at Vaughn. How in the world had he gotten that out so fast?

Vaughn stood with his arm behind his back and didn’t say a word. Ezra kept his gun pointed while he adjusted the wheel with his left hand, bringing the boat in close to shore, the water now shallow enough that Nora could see the bottom. Frank had been keeping his back to Vaughn, but when he heard Ezra’s one-word command he finally turned, and Vaughn’s eyes flicked to him.

“How you doing?” Frank said. “You owe the lady here a car, and owe both of us some answers.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Vaughn said. His voice was high and it cracked on the last word. Nora felt a moment’s confusion—don’t hurt me?—before she realized that he was talking about the woman on the island.

“Nobody here has done any hurting, or intends to,” Ezra said. “But your buddies have. And we need to talk about that. Now put that gun of yours on the bottom of your boat, and then catch the bow line when Frank tosses it to you.”

Vaughn dropped the gun. It took him four tries to catch the bow line and pull them to the beach.

25

__________

Vaughn was back to that damn chattering even before they were all ashore, the same routine he’d gone through while waiting with Frank for the tow truck two days earlier.

“. . . and I don’t know what you’ve been told or what you think, but I was going to come back on Monday and give you the money I owed you, which, you know, there’s no reason to be pulling guns on me, your car is fine, I promise it’s fine, and I didn’t know any—”

“Stop,” Ezra said.

Vaughn stopped. His face reminded Frank of a dog his mother had when he was a kid, a beagle that would always sit with its tongue hanging out. Frank’s father would say, Put your tongue back, and the dog would snap his jaws shut, hiding the tongue, and look at Frank’s dad with a perplexed expression. Vaughn looked about as sure of himself as the dog used to.

“Gonna be plenty of time for you to talk,” Ezra said, “but I figure we should all be present and accounted for. You could work on slowing down a touch, too, give us a chance to hear what the hell it is you’re saying.”

Vaughn nodded, and Ezra gestured up at the cabin.

“She in there?”

Another nod.

“Then let’s go up and have us a seat and bit of conversation.”

They walked across the beach to a trail that led up the bluff. Vaughn went first, slipping a few times, his footwork awkward and clumsy. Frank was last, following Nora, who walked easily. He didn’t know what she was thinking. Probably hadn’t been real encouraged by the way Vaughn had reached for that gun.

The cabin was in remarkable shape for a building that had sat empty for so long, but Frank didn’t marvel over it. He expected no less from Ezra, who would take care of an empty cabin that didn’t belong to him better than most men would ever care for their own homes. Vaughn took the steps up to the porch with a quickened stride and was talking before he reached the door.

“Renee? We got some company. Man here says he’s the caretaker—” Vaughn twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open and stepped into the house just as the blond woman stepped out. Frank saw the gun in her hand, then saw it in Ezra’s eye socket. She just stepped onto the porch and stuck the gun in his eye, no hesitation.

“You reach under your jacket any farther,” the woman said, speaking to Frank without taking her eyes off Ezra, “and I’ll kill him.”

“Shit, Renee, what are you doing?” Vaughn was standing in the doorway, jaw slack.

Renee Matteson. That would be the full name. She was something to watch. Even in this moment, when the only ready-to-shoot gun was the one in her hand, Frank was taken with her. So poised, so strong. He let his hand fall away from his jacket and took one step backward.

She’d stuck the gun into Ezra’s eye with enough force to open up the skin and start a small trickle of blood. Now Ezra cleared his throat and said, “This isn’t a real good way to get things started.”

“He’s the caretaker—” Vaughn began, but she cut him off.

“Caretaker my ass. I saw his gun, Vaughn.”

“We’re not the ones you should be scared of,” Frank said. “Though you should know that they are not far