“Candice is a photographer. Why would she relocate to the end of the world?”
“To take pictures? I can guarantee she’s not there taking soil samples. The place is practically in the Arctic Circle. Temps get pretty nippy.”
“Can I ask… how did you find these travel plans?”
“If I tell you, I have to kill you.”
I smiled and shook my head. “What if…” I squeezed my eyes shut and thought for a moment, “what if Candice wanted people to think she’d gone to this place, but then didn’t go. Maybe headed the opposite direction?” “It’s possible. But it’s also possible that something prevented her from going there. I checked later lists, for both air and land travel, but never came up with that name. But she could have changed her name and arrived later.”
“Hmmm. Or, maybe she just drove.”
“Doubtful. There’s one road in and out of that place. It’s pretty desolate.”
“So how do I get there?”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m serious. I have to check out this lead. Just in case.”
“It’ll boggle your mind.”
“Try me.”
“You asked for it. Hypothetically, you could get on a plane leaving Marquette tomorrow and land three stops and one day later in a place called Goose Bay. From there you could take Provincial Air to Churchill Falls. But not until the twenty-sixth. No flights Christmas Day.”
“Book it.”
“What?”
“Please, Koby. I’m on a mission. I have to find this woman and get back to California before the semester starts. No dilly-dallying.”
“You haven’t heard the price tag.”
“Price doesn’t matter. I’ll spend my last dime if it means finding Candice.”
“Some Christmas present. Your grandfather must really love her.”
I swallowed and gritted my teeth. “Oh yeah. Yeah. He sure does. Getting her back would be the best Christmas present ever.”
“Alright, then. I’ll book your travel and email your itinerary to you. Your flight leaves tomorrow at 2:30 from Marquette. When do you want to return?”
“Give me a week. That should be long enough.”
“With travel time, that puts you back in Port Silvan on Jan third. I’ll give you a couple days to recover, then you’re taking a flight to Del Gloria. I’m booking it now. You WILL be on that plane.”
I gave a quick laugh. “Thanks, Koby. You’re the best. I’ll transfer the funds tomorrow.”
“And Tish-it sounds weird to call you that-God go with you. Do what you have to, then get back here where we need you most.”
I nodded, though his words brought only a vision of Brad lying in River’s Edge, longing for my return.
“Thanks, Koby. You’re a true friend.” I hung up the phone, hoping I’d find the energy, and the courage, to do what needed to be done.
31
First thing in the morning, I headed to the bank to take care of financial details. With a little finagling, I was able to access my accounts.
“Lucky for you your estate hasn’t reached probate yet,” the teller reported. “Thought for sure you were dead. The church ladies put on a good funeral luncheon. Heard the food was delicious.”
“Nope. Just a big misunderstanding.” I cleared my throat. “I hope you’ll keep my visit confidential. To some people, I’m better off dead.”
She nodded, her brown hair bobbing. “I understand. It’s all hush-hush where I’m concerned.” She counted out the cash I requested and put it in an envelope.
I smiled and thanked her, figuring it didn’t matter if she blabbed about my return. I was flying out in a few hours anyway.
Back at Puppa’s, I took a few moments to tie up loose ends. Scrounging up a piece of stationery from his office, I sat down to write.
Dear Professor Braddock,
Thank you for allowing me to stay in your beautiful home and helping me further my education. I am enclosing a check, an approximate payment in full for all the expenses you incurred during my stay, including tuition.
I am no longer in need of your patronage and will make my own arrangements for lodging when I return to Del Gloria next semester.
Many blessings,
Patricia Amble
I stared at the note. Couldn’t be more to the point than that. At least now he could start looking for a new heir. I didn’t want anything from him. Not after the way he’d dealt with Brad.
My pen slipped out of my hand and I covered my face at the memory of the exchange between Brad and his estranged father. Here I’d been caught up in my own family’s dysfunctions when all along Brad had a wacky family too. But with Brad, you never knew it. Before his injury, he didn’t obsess over the fact that he was half orphan like me. He’d come to terms with his parentage.
Sadly, Brad’s state of mind had changed in the past seven months. Even though I was angry with Denton, I still empathized with the professor when it came to Brad’s lifetime of treating him as less than a father. What else could Denton do but use greed and jealousy to try to get Brad back on his feet? I’d stooped to low tactics myself. At this point, anything was worth a try.
Already weary, I sealed and stamped the letter. I would drop it at the post office on my way to the airport.
Upstairs, I repacked my meager belongings. When I was done, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase that belonged to Denton. I’d scrounged it from his attic before I took off on my jaunt from Sacramento to Manistique. The contents fell short of appropriate for winter gear for the Upper Peninsula I could only imagine how inadequate my clothing would be in a place like Churchill Falls, the day after Christmas.
Another cup of coffee, then out to the waiting truck. Puppa had agreed to drive me to the airport, but only after some major convincing.
“Who would think to look for me in a place like Churchill Falls? Come on, it’s the perfect hideout.”
He shook his head, doubtful. “Too small. Too remote. Too far away.”
“Like I said, it’s perfect.” I didn’t tell him I’d be returning in a little over a week. He might not be as open to driving me if he thought I’d deceived him.
On our way out, I waved to my horse. Poor Goldie. Would I ever get a chance to spend time with her? My life felt like one of those rides I used to love at the fair when I was young. Life spun so fast, I spent most of my time plastered to the wall. And when things slowed down, I was too motion sick to feel like doing much of anything. It seemed any attempt to slam on the brakes backfired, only adding to the chaos. Still, I couldn’t help but feel there were just a few more loose ends flying in the breeze. Once those were tied up, I’d have that peaceful, serene life I wished for.
We drove through town, passing the bank, Sinclair’s
Grocery, and the Silvan Bay Grille. I pointed to the post office.
“Can you stop a minute? I’ve got a letter to mail.”
Puppa pulled up to the drop box and posted it for me. Then we were headed to Sawyer International, a fancy name for the airport south of Marquette. Past the sign for the cider mill, where I turned to get to Candice’s house for tea every Thursday. Past the sign for Valentine’s Bay Lodge, the house Sam and Cousin Joel stole from me. Past Silvan Corners and onto US-2, headed west, the same direction I’d taken that day I’d run away from everything…
