Lost & Found - Jacqueline Sheehan [86]
Jan’s voice got softer. “How is the dog?”
“He hasn’t left my side except when his fan club is around. He’s pretty popular around here. Thank you for bringing him back.”
“I think Liz would like that. I’ve never been good with animals. That’s probably a sign of me being a defective human being, but I’ve got to be honest with you, dogs give me the creeps. Got bit by one when I was a kid. Eighteen stitches on my thigh. Liz wanted a dog from the time she could speak, but I was terrified of them.”
Rocky pictured Liz longing for the thing that most terrified her mother and she saw how mismatched the mother and daughter had been. And then she remembered that Jan had ostracized her own daughter and she wondered how she would live with that. Given all her options back then, Jan made a lousy choice.
“What made you decide to bring him back?” asked Rocky.
A long silence. Rocky waited, knowing that Jan was struggling with her emotions. “I made mistakes with Liz and I have to live with that. But you were right; she never would have hurt her dog. And he would have protected her at all costs. I can at least let Cooper live with someone who loves him. He deserves that.” Jan’s voice shook. “There’s something missing in the picture about her death and I wish I knew what it was.”
Rocky said, “I know what you mean. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Jan, did Peter say his last name?”
“I think he did. What the hell did he say it was? Ellis, yeah, like Ellis Island.”
“Thanks. Sorry to hear about the break-in,” said Rocky. She hoped that somewhere in the universe this counted as an apology.
Rocky waited for Peter’s return. She had never seen obsession dissipate quickly, not with the laser focus that Liz’s boyfriend had. Even a new relationship sometimes failed to dim the target. She locked her door at night and she never left Cooper alone. If she had to go places without him, she left him with Tess or Melissa.
And then there was the matter of Hill. She purchased her own archery equipment to replace what he had loaned her. She took Hill’s equipment back to him. She went to his house midmorning when she knew he’d be teaching. At the last minute, she left him a note. “My dog is back.”
Chapter 32
The first thing Tess noticed about the young man was his shimmering jaw muscle. The two of them were the only people standing outside on the ferry, headed for Portland. January had chased all the other passengers inside. Those bringing cars simply sat in them, hanging on to the last tendrils of heat.
Tess wore a large shearling hat, serious leather mittens that were lined with thick polyester, a sweater and a vest beneath her coat, and boots with wool socks. Winter was a fine time for her; it was the unfortunate people who didn’t know how to dress for the cold who whined in misery until spring.
She guessed he was past a turning point, early thirties, where he imagined he would know something with certainty, and he looked angry that his life was not unfolding in a way befitting him. She glanced at his hands. They were red and sore from the cold. She jumped ahead to a conclusion, she imagined a lover saying to him, “It’s cold out, wear some gloves.” And in the beginning, in the blush of first lust, he’d take it as caring, and he’d say in a blustering way, “Nah, I don’t feel the cold.” Then weeks or months later when she stopped giving as much attention to him in a way that he was sure he deserved, he’d say, “Get the fuck off my back.” And the lover would jerk in surprise and wonder what had changed.
She felt a tug, a draw to the young man and Tess had long since stopped wondering if what she felt was real. Synesthesia had opened up her world of options. She knew the sensation was true enough. She took a few steps closer to him and said, “At this time of year you can almost see my favorite building in Portland. Too overgrown in the summer.” She pointed in the direction of a Victorian house that had emerged from the days of urban renewal unscathed. She knew her small size