And that, too, had been a part of his objection all along. Even if they all got out of this okay, Jenny, in the end, would be hurt. And her hurt would be his, because that’s what it was to be a parent. Still, he had to admit that it felt strangely right, the child there in Jenny’s arms. And from the way the baby’s dark eyes so often held on her face and his little mouth formed the odd-shaped smile when she spoke to him, it was clear to anyone with half a brain that something powerful bound these two.
She touched his nose with the tip of her finger, and he responded with a sound that seemed to Cork damn near a giggle. “I’ve been imagining what it would be like if somehow I was able to keep him,” she went on.
Cork shifted the rifle, cradling it in his arms in much the way Jenny held the baby in hers. “And how would that work?”
“Aaron wouldn’t want to be a part of it,” she said.
“Maybe we both underestimate him.”
“I don’t think so.” She glanced up at the sky, where clouds hurried across the immense blue in a race without apparent purpose, then she looked at Cork. “I remember a long time ago, when you and Mom were having that really bad patch in your marriage.”
“I wish you didn’t remember that,” he said.
“No, it’s a good thing. What I remember is how, through all that hard time, I never felt that you’d leave us. I knew that, no matter what, you’d always be there. I don’t feel that way about Aaron. I don’t trust him.”
“Okay, if Aaron is out of the picture, what do you imagine with the little guy?”
Her eyes skated away from Cork’s face, as if she was a little embarrassed by what she was about to say. “When I imagine raising him, I imagine it in the house in Aurora. I see him growing up on Gooseberry Lane, just like I did.”
“It was a good place to grow up. I ought to know. I grew up there, too.”
“It’s silly,” she said. “It’s crazy. Impossible.”
Cork said, “In my fifty-two years on this earth, the one thing I’ve learned absolutely is that nothing is impossible, Jenny. Especially where love is involved.”
“Maybe so,” she said. “But my life has taught me that you should always be prepared to have your heart broken.”
Probably wise, Cork thought, though he didn’t say so.
Bascombe returned first. Kretsch wasn’t far behind him in his own boat, and then Stephen and Aaron, in a rented launch. One after the other, they eased up to the dock and Cork helped them tie up. When they’d all disembarked, they headed with Jenny and the baby to Bascombe’s lodge, where Mal and Rose and Anne were waiting.
“Any trouble?” Mal asked.
“Nope,” Bascombe said. “And plenty of folks know about the extra boats, so word’ll spread quick.”
Cork shot a glance at the clock on the wall. It was set into a polished piece of driftwood.
“How long should we wait?” he asked.
Bascombe said, “Give it another hour. If they’re watching and keeping their ears to the ground, they’ll know by then.”
“I wish to God I knew who ‘they’ was,” Kretsch said.
Cork lifted a hand, as if volunteering. “That’s something I intend to find out when Jenny and the baby are safe.”
“You’re not a cop anymore, Dad,” Anne reminded him.
Cork replied coldly, “This is personal.”
“I’m with you on that,” Kretsch said.
“Me, too,” Bascombe threw in with a thumbs-up. “I haven’t had this much excitement since I left ATF.”
Rose looked unhappy at that. “Seth, this isn’t a game or some kind of military exercise.”
“Sorry,” he said, clearly chagrined. “Didn’t mean it that way.”
“We ought to eat,” Rose suggested. “For some of you, it’ll be quite a while before your next meal.”
“I’ll help,” Anne volunteered.
“And the rest of us still have things to do,” Cork said.
They all stood up, separated, and headed to their duties.
At four o’clock, Mal’s plan was set in motion.
They gathered around the table of the lodge. From a back room, Bascombe brought a large, red plastic ice chest. He’d softened the bottom with a pillow and folded blankets. He held it out toward Jenny.
“Think this’ll do?” he asked.
Jenny pressed the blankets, felt the softness of the pillow beneath, and smiled. “It’s fine, Seth. Thank you.”
She’d changed her clothes. She wore jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. Anne was now the one dressed in the purple Vikings jersey and green capris and crowned with the bright red ball cap. She did a little turn for everyone. “How do I look?”
Jenny saw her father nod seriously. “If you keep your back to the lake and the brim of that cap pulled down low over your face, even if they have binoculars, you ought to fool them, kiddo. Good job.”
Bascombe said, “I still think we ought to use my boat.”
“If they’re watching for us to cross the big water,” Kretsch said, “they’ll be figuring for you to do it, Seth.”
“If the wind gets bad out there, that little toothpick you call a boat could be in for a rough ride.”
“We’ll be fine,” Kretsch said.
Jenny was very glad that he sounded absolutely certain.
“Aaron, Stephen, you guys all set?”
“I’d still rather stay here,” Stephen said. “I want to help you track down Smalldog.”
“I understand,” Cork said, and he did. “But, Stephen, I need you at Henry Meloux’s to make sure Jenny and the baby are safe there. And you and Henry, well, everybody knows how special you are to him. He won’t say no if you’re there.”
“He wouldn’t say no anyway,” Stephen countered. “If he did, he wouldn’t be Henry.”
“I’ll feel better about sending the baby if I know you’re helping at the other end, okay?” Cork said.
Which was the truth, but not the whole truth. If things got bad on the Angle, Cork wanted as many of his children as possible out of harm’s way. For Mal’s plan to work, Anne had to stay on Oak Island. Stephen didn’t.
“Don’t forget,” Aaron threw in helpfully. “I’ve never piloted a boat, Stephen. I need you to get us safely back to the mainland.”
Stephen seemed to see the wisdom of that and, although not necessarily happy with it, nodded his agreement.
They shook hands around and the family hugged and bid one another Godspeed and then it was time. Bascombe headed out first, Kretsch next, and finally Aaron and Stephen. Mal and Anne brought up the rear. Mal carried a rifle. Anne carried the basket, inside of which was a rolled-up bath towel swaddled in a blanket. While Mal helped the others cast off, Anne sat down on the bench with her back to the water, lifted the rolled-up towel in its blanket, and held it to her chest in what, from a distance, would certainly appear to be a loving embrace. Aaron and Stephen pulled away in the rental, motored out a short distance, and waited. Kretsch joined them, easing his little Lund Tyee alongside. Bascombe swung away last. As he came abreast of the other two crafts, they all throttled forward, headed into the channel, and curled north.
From inside the cabin, Cork watched until they’d rounded a point of land three-quarters of a mile northwest and disappeared. He knew that as soon as they were out of sight they would split up. Bascombe would head toward Windigo Island. Aaron and Stephen would head toward Young’s Bay Landing on the mainland. And Kretsch would follow a circuitous route that would, eventually, bring him to the other side of Oak Island, where Jenny and the baby and Cork would be waiting.
It was Mal’s three-card monte—which was the important boat?—but with a twist: Jenny and the baby still appeared to be on the dock.
Cork turned from the window to Jenny, who stood holding the baby. Rose was next to her, and on the floor at
