“I thought Nate was with you in Ravenswood. What’s he doing here?”
Nate apparently hadn’t told Rosa the trouble Harold was in. “Nate had some things to wrap up for me. And he was dealing with a serious issue with Harold. I know how you feel about Harold, but for Nate’s sake, hear me out.” Tom explained what he knew about Harold’s arrest and that his attorney, John Atwood, and an associate of his were handling the legal ramifications. “Hopefully Harold will be released soon, possibly without charges being filed.”
“That stupid, idiot of a man. He’ll never change. Right now I could care less about Harold. Nate is the one I’m worried about. I need to get to the hospital. Thank you for calling, Tom.” The phone went dead before Tom could say goodbye.
Tom called John Atwood next, filling him in on Nate’s accident.
John said, “What a disaster. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of everything. I’ll call Rosa later and let her know what’s going on with Harold. Nate sure as hell doesn’t need to deal with him for a while.”
“Such a relief to know you’re on this, John. I know you have everything under control. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t give it a second thought. Besides, you’ll get my bill soon enough,” John laughed, then said goodbye.
Joe was on the front porch testing the strength of the railings. Tom brought a couple of beers and a bag of potato chips. He handed a bottle to Joe, popped the cap off his and enjoyed the blast of bitter bubbles assaulting his tongue.
“Things are being handled. Wish I was in Jamestown to help out, but John is immensely capable. I couldn’t ask for a more dependable attorney. I’m very lucky.”
“Yeah, you have lots of people watching out for you all right. You are a lucky man! You have it all. Family, friends, education, money. Then there’s me!” Joe laughed.
“I don’t know about that. You seem pretty together, Joe. Very often I feel like I’m the one who missed the boat,” Tom said, his face set in a stern, unblinking stare. “Having it all isn’t enough. It guarantees nothing!” He took a drink of his beer, looked out across the property that was now his. “Enough of my whining! Let’s get some of the crates from upstairs and take them to the study. I want to sort through most of the boxes before my sister, Cassie, gets here. I need to get things settled, get some order in the house. Give me a hand bringing them down, and then you can get on with what you were doing.”
Going through the boxes that contained personal papers was a snap. Nate had already put everything in order. When he was finished, Tom carried the boxes to the attic and stacked them in a small room overlooking the forested property to the west. That was what he’d needed—busy work. Good for his soul.
There were several boxes stacked in one of the other rooms. Tom carried them down the two flights of stairs to the study. Before he had a chance to open them, his cell phone rang. “Tom, it’s Vivian Harrison. How are you?” Not waiting for an answer she went on, “I’m calling to remind you about dinner this evening. Come over about seven. Please don’t go to a lot of fuss either; we’re going to be casual tonight.”
“Thanks, I’m looking forward to seeing you and the boys,” Tom lied.
“Oh, Tom, is Joe Tilson there by chance? I wondered if you would have him pick up my cousin at the train station. The train comes in at four. I told Sara that Joe would be there. Thanks a million, dear. See you tonight,” she spoke quickly without taking a breath.
“I’ll be there. I’ll make sure Joe’s at the station. See you . . . tonight.” Tom finished his sentence though Vivian had already hung up.
Tom found Joe on a ladder at the back of the house replacing a small transformer. “Is that what’s causing the problems with the power?”
“Hard to tell for sure, but it’s definitely in need of replacing. Need some more help moving boxes? I’ll be done here in about ten minutes.”
“No. But Vivian called and wanted to see if you’d go into town this afternoon and pick her cousin up. Told her you would—was that okay?”
“You bet. That would be Sara Lawson. She’s a great lady. She’s a lot of fun, very nice—not at all like Vivian. Attractive, too. I hope you get to meet her soon.”
“I’ve been invited to dinner, so I guess tonight’s the night. I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but Jimmy wanted me to come. I couldn’t refuse.”
“You seem to really like the boy.”
“I do. He reminds me a lot of myself when I was a kid. Reminds me what it was like to look forward to life—no worries, just living in the moment. What I wouldn’t give to be a kid again. Anyway . . . being around Jimmy reminds me of the carefree times.”
Joe reached into his tool pouch and pulled out a screwdriver. “You don’t sound very optimistic. You should be glad you have this great house. And lots of plans for it—not to mention the means to carry them out. What I wouldn’t give to have . . .” He looked down at Tom. “Oh, shit, me and my big mouth.”
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to watch what you say around me. I brought a lot of baggage with me; there’s no reason you should have to deal with it.”
Joe nodded as he put a final screw to secure the transformer to the back wall of the house. “Sure, I kind of figured as much. Anytime you want to talk, let me know.”
“I will. Thanks. I’m going to go through some more of the boxes. I’d like to get them sorted and put away this afternoon.”
Chapter 19
A lofty tower of cumulus clouds glowed orange and crimson, their billowing edges turning dark gray with the hint of the coming night. Shimmers of color were reflected in the Atlantic. Far out on the horizon waves began their rhythmic ebb and flow and would soon render the calm waters turbulent.
A murder of ravens circled over the water, then landed in the boughs of a stand of beech trees on the bluff. The black birds’ resounding caws echoed in the heavy, humid air. It was twilight at Remington House.
Needing some time to relax and unwind before getting ready for dinner at the Harrison house, Tom left the house and walked along the shore. The early evening air was cool and brisk. A full moon, known as the Snow moon, was beginning to climb high, reflecting luminous silhouettes across the water. In the distance, the lights from a lighthouse illuminated the dark landscape in eerie, roving patches, its twinkling reflection sparkled in the moonlit water.
Tom remembered a night, some eight years ago, when Elise and he had been vacationing on the San Diego coast. She did love me then—didn’t she? They’d taken a blanket down to the beach one warm night to watch the full moon rise over the ocean.
“Darling,” Elise teased, her voice low and sultry, “show me how much you love me.” She seductively loosened the straps of her swimsuit, dropping them around her shoulders. She lay back on the blanket, pulling Tom on top of her, running her hands up and down his thighs.
They stared into each other’s eyes. Tom knew at that moment, his soul belonged to Elise. They made love again and again, the moon and stars their only witness. Tom was lost in the silkiness of her body, his needs insatiable. She’d laughed with wild abandon, loving to be so free.
Languid shadows momentarily covered them with darkness as clouds floated across the moon. From far out in the ocean, the peal of a foghorn, lonely and desolate, drifted in the gentle wind. The forlorn note invaded Tom’s mind, wrapping its cold fingers around his thoughts. “Elise,”