A Superior Death

“Thank you,” Anna said with dignity. “Now, may I get to the confusing part?”

“Lord! Yes, by all means. Please do.”

“Given the givens-”

“Sex, drugs, and murder.”

“Given the givens,” Anna repeated firmly, “I want to talk with Hawk before I go to the FBI and feed him and his sister-and their only means of livelihood, their boat-into the bureaucratic meat grinder. Give him a chance.”

“Let me get this straight. You have fallen in ‘like’ with a sinister stranger you believe killed a man. Now you want to confront him face-to-face with his murderous deed. Have you picked out a windblown cliff or an isolated tower to go to all alone and unprotected in the dead of a dark and stormy night?”

“I get the point,” Anna said. She changed the subject: “Tell me about gourmet suspenders.”

“Another mysterious bottle retailing for ten grand, another tasting, three more sessions on the couch. Anna, are you going to do this thing?”

“I don’t know,” Anna admitted wearily.

“If you do it, promise me it’ll be in a crowded cafeteria at noon,” Molly insisted. “No drama, no glamour. Egg salad sandwiches and bad coffee. Oops. Gotta go. David Letterman’s on.”

The click and the “goodbye” were almost simultaneous.

Anna put down the receiver and promised herself a trip to New York. She’d go for Christmas. Angels in Rockefeller Center, holiday scenes in the windows on Fifth Avenue, elves in Macy’s, New Yorkers moderately cheerful. The city was at its best at Christmas.

“Are you done on the phone?” Christina poked her head in the door to Anna’s room. “Ally wants you to kiss her goodnight.”

“I can do that,” Anna said.

Alison Walters went to bed each night with more animals than the keeper at the San Diego Zoo. Three of them were alive. Two sleek black cats curled up like bowling balls near the foot of the bed and Piedmont, Anna’s yellow tiger cat, stretched almost the full length of the child, his white belly turned up to be petted. A low rattling purr emanated from somewhere.

Anna kissed Ally’s cheek and Piedmont’s belly. Christina turned out the light and pulled the door closed but for a cat-sized gap for nocturnal comings and goings.

By habit more than design the two women went into the kitchen. Anna sat down at the small round table where they took most of their meals. Christina rummaged through the refrigerator for an appropriate evening snack.

“Ally and I won’t ever leave you, you know,” she said without turning to look at her housemate.

Anna started to lay her head down on the table, started to cry, but since she didn’t know why she was doing it, she stopped herself. Later, alone in her room, she could cry. Then there would be no burden of sympathy or understanding.

Approached by air, the island took on the jewel-like quality of the islands of the South Seas: an emerald set in sapphire. When Anna flew in from Houghton the effect was heightened by veils of retreating fog that wreathed the island like tissue paper in a fancy gift box.

The seaplane landed in Tobin Harbor and Anna walked over the narrow peninsula to Rock just as people were disembarking from the Queen. She picked up the Belle Isle and motored down toward Mott. The narrow ribbon of water was crowded with Fourth of July revelers. A red speedboat towed a water skier bent on an illegal death. Anna saw the Cisco pull out. Scotty in hot pursuit.

She turned in at Mott Harbor, secured the boat, and walked the short gravel road to Ralph Pilcher’s quarters. It was one of Ralph’s lieu days but Anna knew he would want a report.

The permanent employees lived in apartments arranged in rows like the rooms of a cheap motel. In front of each was a small weedy patch that passed for a lawn.

Hawk Bradshaw sat cross-legged on Pilcher’s plot tossing a baby into the air and making those crooning noises understood by infants the world over.

Anna would have turned and run, ducked for cover behind one of the old white pines that lined the road, but she knew it was only a fraction of a second before Hawk would see her. Not even time enough to compose her features. It occurred to her that perhaps she was glad not to be gay after all. A woman lover could too easily read one’s thoughts. The lack of understanding between the sexes provided each species with at least a modicum of privacy.

Hawk caught the baby. Against its delicate skin, his hands looked to be made of mahogany. Laughingly he nuzzled the child’s cheek. Still Anna remained rooted to the gravel drive. Something in the charming scene struck her as odd. Hawk and the infant, so comfortable at play. She combed through her tangled thoughts to find the snarl.

Vasectomy: Hawk, thirty-two, had a vasectomy. Why would a young man who so clearly loved babies have ensured that he would never father one?

“Anna!” Hawk had seen her. He cuddled the baby to his shoulder like someone who knows how, and rose smoothly to his feet.

“Morning, Hawk. Ralph around?” she asked casually.

Hawk looked hurt, then annoyed. “Was the other night nothing?” he asked quietly.

“The other night was the other night,” Anna said with a shrug. She wanted to smile, touch his arm, say something more, but there was no graceful way out of the situation.

“I’m sorry, Anna.” He sounded like a man accepting his own failure. That didn’t seem in keeping with what had transpired between them, but since she would probably have to arrest him in the immediate future, Anna didn’t think this was the time to pursue the details of their aborted romance.

“Me too,” she said. “Is Ralph around?”

“He got called to Houghton, he and Lucas, I guess. It’s a shame. Mrs. Pilcher and Max”-he wiggled the baby between his hands like a bit of Play-Doh-“just got here yesterday. Max’s mom is over at Rock, visiting. I asked if I could baby-sit.”

Ralph and Lucas were off the island. They’d be gone at least a day and a night and part of the following day. Anna considered going to Frederick Stanton with her burden of proof. But if he clung to the drug-death theory, the 3rd Sister would be impounded as evidence immediately, long before Hawk and Holly were proven guilty. With the ensuing investigation and governmental red tape, there was no telling when she’d be released. Clients would be canceled. Goodwill in a small industry lost. Insurance payments, dock fees, gear maintenance cost, would go unpaid. It wouldn’t take much to break the back of 3rd Sister Dive Adventures, Inc. If, by some chance, Hawk and his sister were innocent, they would have paid a stiff price for her suspicions.

Hawk kissed the baby’s ear.

“Are you free for lunch?” Anna asked.

“Are you cooking?”

“Better. A crowded cafeteria at noon, egg salad, bad coffee.”

“Are you buying?”

“Dutch treat.”

Hawk laughed. “Never go into sales, Anna. How about twelve-thirty? Max’s mom won’t be back till noon.”

“Twelve-thirty.”

At central dispatch Anna left a message for Stanton: “URGENT. MEET ME AT ROCK HARBOR LODGE LUNCHROOM AT 1:30.” Sandra said she’d give it to the Fed if she saw him, but Anna knew behind the joke was the promise to track him down at all cost.

Ninety minutes to kill. Since she was out of uniform, Anna decided to play tourist. She motored back to Rock, took her place on the bench above the harbor, and waited for the eleven o’clock nature walk to begin. Visitors trickled up. Soon the bench was full and half a dozen people milled around on the asphalt path. Anna didn’t talk much. It was restful to be incognito, not to have to feign interest in anybody’s little adventures.

At five of eleven the group perked and stirred meaningfully. The ranger was coming. It was Tinker. She looked