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SEVENTEEN

GAbrIEL

Thursday

Elton slathered butter across four thick slices of sourdough bread and then set two of the pieces butter-side down in the warm pan. He added slabs of cheddar and lay the other two slices of bread over the cheese before shooting Gabriel a calculating glance. Then another one. Gabriel was learning that Elton had a whole stock of those looks saved up.

“Gordon MacDonald, he doesn’t go off like this. Boy’s a homebody.”

Gabriel liked the older man more than he wanted to, liked that he cared about his friends. But attachments were murky territory and liking people had always been a problem for him. He wondered again, had Peter found the note he’d left him?

People always want something in return, Chance, that’s how this works.

But Elton had yet to play that game. Gabe thought that maybe he was one of the few people he’d met that didn’t. And he liked that Elton was concerned about the AWOL Gordon. This was the only explanation he had when he opened his mouth. “I could poke around?”

What are you thinking, Chance?

Searching for a possible missing person was not keeping a low profile. The Colavitos loomed large in his mind. Peter too.

But on the other hand, few people on Heartstone knew him, so the risk was negligible.

Keep telling yourself that, Chance. Maybe you’ll start to believe it. But believing won’t make it true.

A stranger asking a few questions might get some easy answers, though. Then again, Gabe might get run off the island. However, the idea of heading to the Ticket for another day of deep cleaning had his body contemplating revolution.

“Are you experienced in this kind of thing? Finding people?” Elton asked, his attention focused on the hot pan and flipping the sandwiches over. “Have you done it before?”

The dubious tone indicated that Elton wasn’t sure if Heidi Karne’s kid was a tad more diversified, incomewise, than she’d been. Why not? Gabriel was turning over a new leaf, after all.

“No,” Gabriel admitted. “But it can’t hurt for me to nose around, can it? If you make me a list of people and places…” He let the sentence drift to its end. Saying the words out loud made him realize how much of a problem his offer really was. “People and places” meant going to places and talking to people.

Gabe’s true Achilles’ heel was that he genuinely liked most people. People were interesting puzzles to figure out, and he enjoyed listening to their stories and learning what made them tick. An extrovert, he’d always made friends wherever he and Heidi had ended up. It was a knack, maybe a survival instinct. It didn’t, however, make for a very good con man.

People aren’t friends, Chance, they’re opportunities.

Too late. He already liked Elton and possibly had a grudging respect for Ranger Man—if he would quit being such a tool. The man wanted Elton to get a dog.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Elton admitted before Gabe could rescind his offer. “I just can’t imagine where he’s gotten himself to. Gordon’s one of those people who is permanently naive, that’s how he gets into trouble.”

“You checked the gas station already?” Gabe asked.

Elton nodded. “Yesterday. Shaw, the asshole who runs it, hasn’t heard anything and had the gall to tell me to let Gordon know he’s fired.” Elton added a twangy whine to his raspy voice. “‘Can’t have unreliable staff and I’d been doing him a favor.’” He made a frustrated sound. “Personally, I think he’s just pissed off because no one else will cover those shifts. He’s not worried about Gordon.”

“Noted. Probably not worth it to stop by again, then.” He might though. He was curious to know what had happened after he’d left, which would mean talking the owner into letting Gabriel see the security feed.

“Shaw did tell me something interesting though.”

“Oh?” Something in Elton’s tone had Gabriel on alert. Dammit already. And there was one of those glances Elton had stored up.

“There was an altercation recently while Gordon was working. Apparently, a couple known troublemakers had a run-in with someone Shaw’s never seen around before. Mid-forties, wearing a cap. But Shaw thinks he had dark hair, was a little over six feet tall. Drove an older silver Honda.”

“Huh.” Gabriel picked invisible lint off his sweatshirt so he wouldn’t have to meet Elton’s knowing gaze.

“The two troublemakers apparently tried to intimidate the stranger. There’s no sound on the replay, but Shaw said the two were being aggressive toward him, body language and all that. Anyway, when he left, the thugs still had their balls, but it was a close thing. Sound familiar?”

“It’s been a long few days, a lot has happened. Could be familiar, I can’t confirm.”

“Well, in case you run into them, be careful. Calvin and Dwayne Perkins are not nice people. The Perkinses probably set fire to small animals and pulled the wings off flies as children.” Elton shot him an inscrutable glance. “Course, I can’t confirm that.”

“Noted.” He should have known that was the type of guy whose balls he’d grabbed. Made him want to wash his hands again.

“That scar of Gordon’s?” Elton said. “He won’t say, but it’s my opinion that Dwayne Perkins put it there.”

“Okay.”

“So, if you do decide to talk to them about Gordon, be careful. Very careful.”

“What about calling the Sheriff’s Office, have you done that yet?” Gabriel was perfectly happy to stay off the sheriff’s radar, but it seemed that calling law enforcement would be a good place to start the search for Gordon.

“Pfft, Sheriff Rizzi investigates what he wants to investigate.” Elton lifted the sizzling sandwiches out of the pan one at a time and set them on waiting plates. Gabriel made a mental note to pick up more groceries and leave them in Elton’s fridge. “He’s the one who made sure Gordon spent time in jail in the first place. There was no need for that. Gordon wouldn’t hurt a fly and everyone around here knows it. One of Rizzi’s minions, Emmett Spurring, claimed he had evidence Gordon was running a pot farm without a license. Personally, I don’t think Gordon has the brains for a grow operation. Nevertheless, they investigated and boom, Gordon was in jail for three months. ”

“Huh, I didn’t think pot was that big of a deal these days.”

“Exactly. It’s not, especially around here. As far as I know, it’s six plants for personal use. Gordon denied all knowledge of an operation but the land they ‘found’ the plants on is Gordon’s. More likely what happened—if it wasn’t Sheriff Rizzi—is that someone else thought it was vacant and decided to take advantage.”

“Where did this happen? Could that be where Gordon is?”

“Well,” Elton said thoughtfully, “could be, I suppose. It’s up The Valley, off Crystal Creek Road.”

“Where the hell is The Valley? The whole region is made up of valleys, for fuck’s sake.” On the drive up, along the west side of Highway 101, there’d been nothing but valleys, forest, and craggy mountains peeking over the tops of the trees. The other side had been crammed with trees that grew along the sixty-five-mile-long water fjord.

“Not far but not easy to get to. But you’d need to take my truck on your own. I’m feeling a little creakier than usual today,” Elton admitted. “That little frivolity of yours won’t make it up the road, especially this time of year. Which is also why I doubt Gordon is up there. There’s a shed, but he hasn’t gotten around to building a cabin like he wanted to.”

“Where does he live around here? How about I start there and ask around? Maybe a neighbor has seen him. Or, better yet, he told them where he was fucking off to.”

“You can try. But watch out for Calvin and Dwayne, they live over there too. They’re thugs, but they have power around here. Especially since they’re Rizzi’s nephews.”

Because of course they were. Gabriel was really sick of protective sociopathic uncles with jerks for nephews—the bane of his existence.

“That’s lovely to know. ”

“Exactly,” Elton replied. “Kelly Perkins is Rizzi’s beloved sister, so of course ‘the boys’ can do no wrong. The sheriff lets those two get away with murder.”

“Do you mean, literal murder?”

Elton shrugged. “Not gonna lie, it’s a possibility, but it’s never been proven. Come on, let’s eat and then you can take the rest of the day off from cleaning and go hunting around for Gordon.”

Taking the day off from cleaning meant extending his stay at Elton’s a little longer, which, considering all the spiders he still had to evict, wasn’t the worst choice. Gabriel was starting to think cleaning up the sailboat was his personal Sisyphus-style boulder.

The address Elton gave Gabriel was part of Smitty’s RV Park, not far from where Paulson Point presumably was. Gabriel remembered noticing the motley collection of mobile homes and RVs when he’d driven around the island the afternoon he’d arrived. Smitty’s had most likely been developed for visitors to Heartstone, but it was clear to Gabe that nowadays people lived there year-round.

Smitty’s grounds were scrubby and worn, with some of the small yards acting as outside storage for broken-down appliances, vehicles, and bicycles. He couldn’t fault the residents for it; trash removal was expensive and maybe they couldn’t afford a trip to the local transfer station. A few neglected pine trees had been planted at the turn-in. Their needles were brown even in the winter, and most of them had fallen to the ground, leaving bare branches behind.

Many of the RVs suffered a similar fate, with significant rust issues and several varieties of moss that had managed to get a foothold along the rooflines. A few of them also had ferns sprouting from them and what looked to Gabe like lichen. Was there such a thing as a fern infestation?

Number 191 turned out to be a faded white double-wide with a thick orange stripe painted along the side. It was also one of the better kept homes. Moss and rust were evident but no ferns or lichen. Someone, presumably Gordon, had recently wrapped the bottom with aluminum skirting to keep rodents and small animals from finding their way inside, and a dormant hanging basket sat next to the stairs.

Elton said that Gordon drove an older dark blue Nissan pickup. There was no sign of it in the graveled area intended for 191’s resident.

“Don’t know the plates,” Elton had told him, “but it’s old, older than Gordon. One of the doors doesn’t match, it’s a lighter shade of blue, and the back bumper has a dent in it. And of course, he has a couple of beaters he’s converting to rally cars, but he doesn’t drive them on the road.”

Sure enough, two beaters were parked off to the side of number 191. One had been sitting there long enough that it had moss on the roof. If cars had feelings, Gabe would’ve said the other one looked depressed, sad to have been left behind.

“That’s enough of that,” he muttered.

Slowly, Gabriel navigated through the residential park, looking for the Nissan. He hoped people weren’t home and that if someone was, they paid no attention to Elton’s truck. The last thing he needed was to have law enforcement show up because “someone suspicious” was hanging around. But at first glance, Smitty’s seemed like one of those places where most residents chose willful ignorance. What they didn’t know for sure couldn’t hurt them. He saw no sign of the Perkins brothers.

The second time through, he pulled in at Gordon’s address but didn’t get out right away. His impression, instinct, whatever, was that no one was home. The home seemed empty of human life. Gabe waited a few minutes to see if someone—preferably Gordon—peeked through one of the filthy windows to see who was there. No one did.

“You said you’d look around. Get your ass out of the truck.”

Gabriel cracked open the door, still hesitating, still hoping for signs of life, but got nothing.

Somewhat reluctantly, he pushed the Ford’s door all the way open and slid out. Fucking cold air blasted him in the face, sending shivers down his spine. Winter’s freezing fingers were determined to cop a feel, and Gabe shrugged his coat higher to keep them out. He pushed the truck’s door closed too forcefully and the resulting bang was loud to his ears. Idiot. If no one had been paying attention before, they would be now.

As he crossed the graveled area heading toward the double-wide, Gabriel glanced around again. Sherlock Holmes he wasn’t, but Gabriel didn’t see anything that screamed a resident had been dragged away in the dark of night. From all appearances, Gordon had left under his own power and hadn’t returned.

No one responded to Gabriel’s knock except an agitated dog several addresses over. Damn dogs again. He was not a fan of dogs at the moment. He raised his fist; maybe he didn’t have the same thundering bang as Ranger Lundin, but people usually answered when he dropped by. After three sharp knocks, he waited on the front step for a few minutes—who knew, the guy could have been in the crapper.

Another minute passed before he tested the door handle. Locked. Gabriel returned to the truck, hesitating there for a moment, just in case. He hoped Gordon was not inside and unable to answer, but he had no reason to break in. Not in broad daylight anyway .

“You looking for Gordon?” A deep voice called out.

Gabriel spun in a slow circle, trying to figure out what direction the voice had come from. Gordon’s address was in the middle of a row of mobile homes and RVs but was set slightly further back from the access road than most of the others were.

“Over here, 195,” the speaker said.

Following the directions, Gabriel abandoned Elton’s truck and crossed Gordon’s property to the one directly to the right of his, where a few more of the well-maintained residences were located. Number 195 was painted a cheerful bright blue with yellow trim and the windows appeared to have recently been replaced. A man, older than Gabriel but younger than Elton, waited at the top of the steps.

“Hi, my name is Gabriel,” Gabe said, omitting his last name. “I’m a friend of Elton Cox’s. And yes, I am looking for Gordon. Have you seen him around lately?”

“Bill Floyd.” he gave Gabriel a nice-to-meet-you nod. “Gordon hasn’t been around for the last couple of days, not that I’ve noticed. The sheriff was out here asking around too, I hope he’s okay.” The man wrinkled his nose as if the idea of the sheriff coming around was distasteful. “Usually, he lets me know if he’s going to be gone so I can keep an eye on things. Our personal neighborhood watch.”

“He didn’t mention anything? A last-minute trip or a sick relative?” Gabriel asked casually.

“No. He’s a good tenant. I debated renting to him because he’s had some problems recently, but Elton vouched for him. That was a while back and I haven’t had reason to regret having him here. Plus, he does some maintenance for me and I take a little off the rent.”

Gabriel recalled the hours of detective shows he’d watched over the years, starting with Law and Order . What would Lennie Briscoe do in this situation? “Have you noticed anything usual? Maybe Gordon’s had some sketchy friends over? Has anyone else been looking for him?”

“No one else has asked about him. Gordon’s family, well, I don’t want to talk ill, but they haven’t bothered to come around. I don’t think he’s seen them since he got out of jail.”

“You aren’t bothered by the fact he was supposedly growing marijuana?”

“Pfft, what’s a little dope? I been smoking since the ’60s.” Bill waved a hand. “The worst-kept secret around here is that everyone grows.”

Bill’s answer wasn’t exactly shocking. Gabriel had heard that this part of the peninsula was kind of notorious for people doing whatever the hell they wanted to—including growing pot without a license.

“What kind of maintenance does Gordon do for you?” Gabe asked. The question wasn’t important, Gabriel just wanted to keep the guy talking in hopes he’d learn more.

“A little bit of everything, really. I own the park and I’m getting on in years, can’t do as much on my own.” Bill frowned. “Gordon mows, keeps the weeds down in the summer, fixes broken pipes, that sort of thing. He installed new skirting around his place and mine.”

So, Gordon MacDonald was down on his luck and recently released from jail. But folks like Bill and Elton trusted him to do odd jobs and, in Bill’s case, be a good neighbor. Gabe was curious about Gordon’s other friends, the ones who liked to work on cars. The local auto shop was probably a good place to start for that. He made a mental note to ask Elton where the most likely one was located.

“Thanks. Hey, if you happen to see him, can you ask him to give Elton a call?”

“Sure thing,” Bill said.

Gabe sketched out a wave and crossed Bill’s property back to where he’d left Elton’s truck. Staring at Gordon’s home for another few seconds, he debated whether to try the door again or not. In the end, Gabe decided against since there was obviously no one home.

So where was Gordon MacDonald?