they might have to escape Ben's with papers and the wind could resume during their return and oppose them or create a serious beam sea. On their return they might be required to land on a different part of the shoreline. In places it was steep and hard to make the shore.
When they arrived back at the house, they went inside for a moment to reexamine a chart on the wall and raid the kitchen one more time. The unspoken truth was that they could end up back in the water, and if that happened, they would need great energy.
They found a can of tuna and some frozen whole wheat bread.
'We gotta leave, but we have to eat,' Sam said.
'I don't want to go back in that ocean,' she said, reading his mind.
They waited for the microwave to thaw and ruin the bread, while struggling with impatience. Haley seemed energized, alert, and attentive, especially in her face, and that was strange for such a late hour and such dire circumstances. He imagined her in one of her hats, smiling on the dock, and then he studied her in the softer light and decided she was beautiful everywhere, all the time.
They yanked the bread from the microwave and found some mayonnaise.
Sam didn't usually like watching people eat, but not Haley. Next he knew he would be telling himself that she was unique among women and that there would never be another like her. Finally he would think her worthy of poetry and special gifts. Of course, he knew that this was the beginning of a strange chemical change in his brain that mankind had dubbed love. It could be fed or starved; he could come close or walk away. He had made promises to himself about these sorts of feelings.
There was a look in her eye, even in the soft light.
'We're in the middle of more than a bad tuna sandwich,' he said. 'It's crazy to even think about what we're thinking about. It needs a long talk and we don't have time for one.'
'Yes. No one knows that better than I.' Then she seemed to agree, or at least relent.
They could talk about it later.
'How can we help Sarah?' she said. 'I feel so helpless. We're just running around, not really doing anything to help her. It's frustrating.'
'Find Ben and his secrets. It's the only reason they have to keep Sarah. Maybe we can feign a bargain. Aside from that, after Ben's we'll try calling her friends and see if she's shown up. We'll call Rachael and tell her to tell the state. But the odds of them letting her go before somebody finds Ben, or brings in the state, are very bad.' Sam didn't tell Haley his belief that they would kill Sarah once she was no good to them.
'Why is Ben working on all these topics at once?' she asked. 'That's the key question for me. I mean, he seems to give them all equal space and emphasis. This is not all about youth retention.'
'You're absolutely right,' Sam said, 'and there's a reason why we can't put it together.
We don't understand his motive.'
'Let's get rowing,' she said.
Frick drove to Sheriff's Boat 1 in Friday Harbor with Rafe Black. It was dark and swathed in winter quiet, the streets relatively deserted. A few residents scurried into the waterfront pub. There was no one in the marina parking lot, no one coming or going from the public showers at the head of the dock. They were headed to Fisherman's Bay at Lopez Island, and from there they would drive to Ben Anderson's beach house. After walking in silence down the wide main dock to the boat, they climbed in as the deputies cast off.
The big diesels purred, a marvel of mechanical achievement taken for granted like gravity.
They had Sarah James at Ben Anderson's Lopez place. Things were getting organized and starting to work at last.
Frick had a large leather bag in his lap containing his drugs and instruments: tools of his trade. Rafe Black drove.
'We were lucky to catch her so fast,' Rafe said.
Frick didn't reply. He was debating how exactly he should squeeze her. He planned to use drugs, which he did not like because she would go off into a sort of stupor. Thinking about having her under his control was like the excitement that a hunter feels when he's very near his quarry, combined with another kind of feeling like a boy on his first date.
'I'd like to be there when you question her,' Rafe said.
'Like the last time, when you lost Haley Walther? You and the others will remain outside the house while I question her. I'm in a hurry and I don't have time for games. So shut the hell up about turning this into entertainment. We've got to find Ben Anderson and get out of here before we end up on death row. You got that?'
Rafe sat surly and silent.
Speed in getting the information was everything. Frick ordered them to sail at maximum speed. He was in a hurry to get started on Sarah James.
Sam picked up the boat, which was stout and heavy, and he turned it upside down to put it on his back. When he looked like he would founder because of the bad leg, she got under and helped lift. Haley was strong for a slight woman.
It required great strength to move it to the water and it meant getting cold again. His limp was terrible and so was the pain, but with her help he managed to get it launched.
Sam rowed with a steady rhythm, and the pull on his arms and the flex of his muscle was familiar and good. His bad legs only interfered slightly with the movements, and even in his terrible weariness he found the exercise oddly comforting.
As they rowed past the silent yacht he'd spotted before, he listened for the sound of the generator and heard none, which was a clear indication on a yacht this size that there was no one aboard.
He had set into a regular rhythm and knew that his mind could separate from the physical task at hand. He looked at Haley, wondering about her thoughts.
'Nervous stomach, before the battle?' he asked, remembering his own encounters with what amounted to war.
'Uh-huh,' she said. There was an understanding between them. They had shared battle.
'A sip of Dewar's about now would really hit the spot,' Sam said.
'You don't need Dewar's,' she snapped.
The emotional intensity came out of nowhere. He thought about it in the ensuing silence.
'I'm sorry I went off like a cannon,' she said.
'Nobody much needs a Dewar's,' Sam said.
'Now you're trying to be polite.'
'People fly off the handle. Usually a reason.'
'My mother drank Dewar's.'
'I see.'
'Maybe this is just an excuse to talk about it. I don't know.'
'I'm officially asking-if that helps.'
'Just before she gave me to Ben and Helen, her sister was coming over. Really, it was an inspection. Mother was completely drunk after two o'clock every day at that stage.
Gertrude, her sister, wanted to take me. She had boys. No girls. So I try to keep Mom sober, so Gertrude won't go to court. It was a struggle. I clean. I straighten the house out.
I do all the old dirty dishes, throw out all the old garbage, haul a ton of bottles out back.
I work very hard to make it look normal.'
'I think I got the picture. You always were type A.'
'She's coming at six. At five forty-five Mom gets the shakes really bad and throws up all over the living-room floor and all over herself. I stick her in the shower and go after the floor.
'At about five fifty-five my mother screams at me. I go in the bathroom. She wants her Dewar's. I went and got it, brought it in the bathroom, and at age nine I defy her and pour it down the toilet. She freaks and stumbles out of the shower. She runs through the house naked and gets another bottle, which she has hid, and starts chugging. About then, Gertrude shows up and she's got my cousin with her. He has a really big mouth. Next day it was all over school. My mother was standing naked in the living room, in the middle of a bunch of vomit, drinking. Everybody looked at me.'
