“If lack of pretention attracted you,” Ian said, still chuckling, “you won’t be disappointed. But Two Moon Bay has many strong points. Nelson’s building may not be fancy, but all summer long, sailboats and motor yachts stay at his docks and visitors and locals wander around town and always end up down here.”
Jerrod agreed with Ian’s take about the feel of this small town. It didn’t surprise him the waterfront attracted lots of marine and foot traffic. It spoke of safety, too. After the horror of what had happened, Jerrod sought as much safety for Carrie as possible. He also craved a lack of drama, even in the landscape. Two Moon Bay provided the comfort and a degree of anonymity he wanted. That’s why he hadn’t told Dawn about what happened to his wife, just that he’d lost her. He hadn’t even mentioned Dabny.
“I wonder what’s keeping Dawn,” Ian said, lowering his camera. “I usually arrive early to appointments she arranges. Most of the time, she’s already there.”
“I haven’t heard anything from her,” Jerrod said. In the back of his mind, he’d also been wondering where she was. “I just started working with her, but she sure seems reliable. Always does exactly what she says she’s going to do.” He pointed to Ian. “She said she’d arrange today’s photo shoot, and here you are.”
“Why don’t we keep going, as long as I’m here? Dawn and the writer she works with, Lark McGee, will do the copy later, anyway.”
Jerrod was reluctant, but then they’d already started, more or less. Before leaving the Lucy Bee, he pointed out all the basics, from the safety to the snack bar. He described the video and slideshow that went with his tour scripts, including the graphics of old newspaper headlines and accounts that always appealed to audiences in Florida and the Virgin Islands. Just because they weren’t diving didn’t mean they weren’t interested in hearing folklore about storms and sunken treasure.
“I guess you’d say I’m an amateur cultural historian of the unpretentious Great Lakes.”
“I’ve got terrific shots of you as you’re talking.” Ian patted the camera. “Your passion comes through, exactly as Dawn described. And the camera doesn’t ignore it nor lie about what it picks up.”
At another mention of Dawn, Jerrod finally admitted he was annoyed. Until he got information to contradict it, it appeared Dawn had stood him up. In fact, the longer he thought about it, Dawn’s absence went from annoying to really maddening. She’d let him down in a major way. But he kept his professional demeanor long enough to give Ian some space to shoot photos of Wind Spray, a white fiberglass boat gleaming in the sun. Every piece of equipment and even the way it was arranged communicated care and safety. He was proud of that.
“We don’t settle for anything less than the best equipment kept in top shape.” He patted the tank racks and pointed to the storage bins. “We provide everything, although some people bring their own gear. Masks, gloves, hats, dive boots, and wet and dry suits suitable for the climate.”
Ian’s quick camera work kept Jerrod animated. “I like working with new divers, and kids, too. Teenagers can dive safely, as long as they’re taught well. Besides, they aren’t jaded. They think spotting old bottles on the bottom is cool.”
Ian began talking about his own desire to dive and Jerrod tried to listen, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring off the stern of the boat and craning his neck to look for Dawn’s blue car.
Jerrod led the way off the boat and onto the dock.
“I’ll be in touch,” Ian said tentatively. “I’m sure Dawn has a good explanation for not showing up.”
Jerrod nodded, but wasn’t so confident. Ian stayed put, as if waiting for something. Jerrod jumped when his phone signaled a new text. “Maybe this is something from her.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Sure enough, here it is, Ian. She says she was in a car accident, rear-ended. She’s at the emergency room. Her car was towed away. But she’s okay. If that’s the case, then why...” He stopped talking when Ian’s phone pinged.
Ian read his text and nodded. “It’s Dawn. She’s at Northeast Memorial Hospital. Not far from here. A mile or so down the road.”
“That car of hers, it’s so small,” Jerrod said, giving voice to his visions of a bashed-in trunk and back seat. Irrationally, he was angry that she didn’t drive a sturdier minivan or even a truck.
“It’s a standard compact car,” Ian said, frowning at him. “It’s not especially small.”
Jerrod caught Ian’s puzzled expression, but was too distracted by his heart beating wildly in his chest to say anything. Calm down. She said she’s fine. “Uh, she’s going to need a ride home, assuming she’ll be released.”
Ian waved him off. “No problem, man, I can go. I know where the hospital is.”
No, that wasn’t right. He should go. He should make sure she was okay. She’d been hurt on her way to see him. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to sound casual when he said, “No, I insist. I’ll go. I’ll get directions on my phone.”
Ian stared at him as if searching for something in his face. “Are you sure? It’s no trouble. Besides, she might have called someone by now. Probably Lark. You might want to check with her before taking off.”
Maybe so, but she’d only probably protest that she was fine. It wouldn’t do any harm to show up there. “I’ll check it out. My little girl is at school and her nanny is picking her up later.” Swatting the air dismissively, he said, “You go on, Ian. I’ve got this.”
Jerrod started down the dock to his van, with Ian following right behind. Of course, Jerrod knew he should call Dawn. But he chose to ignore logic. It made no sense, but the closing fist in his gut told him he had to see for himself that she was okay.
* * *
THE NURSE HANDED Dawn the envelope with the six pain pills. “Take as needed. You can talk to your doctor if you need more.”
“Thanks, Adele, but I’ll be fine,” she said. Why had she been so quick to say that? Her wrist was badly sprained and secured in a removable splint. An immobilizer, Adele called it. She’d twisted her knee and banged her head in her rapid escape from her mangled car. But no, she told Adele, a nurse who, as it happened, used to work for Gordon’s pediatrician, she was fine. What a joke.
“Don’t be a martyr, Dawn. You’ve had one pill, and you can have another in six hours. I recommend taking it to stop a pain cycle in its tracks.” The nurse tapped the straps holding the splint in place around her hand and wrist. “In a day or two you’ll still be sore, but probably not in unbearable pain.”
“But if I took the med, I can’t drive today. Is that true?”
“Well, you don’t have a car. Remember?” Adele picked up Dawn’s good hand and held it between both of hers. “I know you, so I can imagine your mind is jumping ahead to whatever was in that appointment book you lug around in your attaché. It makes me think of the carry-on bag I take on flights.”
Dawn laughed in spite of herself. “I get it. I’ll slow down. Tomorrow is soon enough to get a loaner or a rental.” She gently walked her fingers over the lump on her head starting at her hairline and ending at the outer edge of her eyebrow. Even without seeing it she knew it was turning into a spreading purple bruise she’d walk around with for a couple weeks.
“Fortunately, I only missed one actual appointment today. I planned the afternoon for phone calls and writing press releases.”
“All that can wait.” Adele waved the paper she held in her hand. “I have your aftercare instructions right here. Point number three,” she said, poking at a number on the page, “is rest.”
Dawn