Page 8

EIGHT

GAbrIEL

Tuesday

“Jesus Christ.”

Gabe peered through his windshield at the metal creature.

Sea monster didn’t begin to describe the massive iron beast that loomed over Elton Cox’s driveway, and Gabriel had to admit it was damn impressive.

Twenty feet wide and fifteen feet tall, the metal art looked like a cross between a mythical Kraken and a 3D rendering of a cold virus. Rusted-out car exhaust pipes and mufflers stuck out from the creation at all angles. Massive cog-like crank wheels had been used for the midsection, and other bits whose origins were unknown to Gabriel made up the rest.

“Holy crap. This week is just getting weirder and weirder.”

Gabriel would not have turned in there had he not been given directions by Mercy the Coffee Angel. But here he was.

“Here goes nothing.”

He parked the Honda next to a silver-green Ford F-10 pickup with a dented canopy topper that had seen better days .

With a go-cup in each hand, Gabriel got out of his car and approached the worn but well-cared-for mobile home. He crossed a miserable patch of mossy lawn bisected by stone pavers. The grass, adjacent to a tiny porch area, was doing its best to survive the wet fall weather, but in Gabe’s opinion, the weather was winning. Before he could successfully juggle the coffee cups and raise his fist to knock, the door opened.

An older man with wrinkles like gutters, almost as if his skull had once been much larger but had shrunk beneath his skin as he’d aged, stood before Gabriel. “Is one of those for me?” he asked, waggling a pair of eyebrows so bushy they probably threw shade at the height of summer. Was facial hair a sport on Heartstone? “Mercy must have told you to drop by. Come on in.” He paused to peer more closely at Gabriel. “You seem familiar, but I don’t think I know you. Although my memory’s not what it used to be.”

The man was on the far side of seventy, possibly even into his eighties. He was about six inches shorter than Gabriel, reed-thin and knobby, like he’d originally been fashioned from malleable spring twigs that had dried and become brittle.

“You don’t know me. At least, I don’t think so,” Gabriel replied as he held out one of the Americanos. “My name’s Gabriel Karne. And yes, Mercy told me where you lived.”

He’d entertained the idea of giving a false name but had ultimately reasoned that his notoriously suspicious mother had trusted this person. And if he wanted to find out whatever this man might have been watching over for Heidi, a fake identity would likely only cause problems later. Gabriel had enough of those.

Elton had his hand out, ready to take one of the coffees. But he paused to give Gabriel a long, hard look before accepting the hot drink .

“Karne, huh?” Cox said slowly, as if the name was just registering, “I suppose you have ID or something to show me?”

The idea of handing over his ID made Gabe extra twitchy. Just how honest did he have to be with the old man?

Blowing out a puff of air, Gabriel nodded, then reluctantly reached around and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. A particularly strong gust of wind swirled and raindrops dripped down the back of his neck. A few made it into Elton’s living room.

“Hold your horses there,” Elton admonished. “Get inside and then I’ll take a gander at it. Haven’t talked to anyone with the name of Karne since—welp, it’s been a damn long time. Since before you were born, anyway. Come on,” he said, impatiently waving Gabriel past him.

Inside, Gabriel stopped on the rectangular doormat and wiped his feet before stepping onto the carpet.

Manners, Chance.

“Should I take off my boots?” he asked, looking around for a rack to stash them on.

Elton shook his head. “Don’t bother. This time of year, it’s impossible to keep the grime out. I’ll pay Mercy or her kid to clean everything up in the spring. Now,” he said, holding out his palm, “what about that ID? And take your coat off too. Even if you aren’t who you say you are, you can stay and chat with an old man for a while.”

Looking around, Gabriel set his cup on a low table next to the lumpy-looking couch. Unenthusiastically, he flipped open his wallet and held it out for Elton to look at.

“Do you mind?” Elton asked, reaching out. Gabe nodded and handed it over. In for a penny, he supposed. Wrinkling his nose, Elton squinted, peering down at Gabe’s driver’s license for several minutes. “Wasn’t your best day for a picture, was it?” he said, snapping the wallet shut before he held it back out to Gabriel. “But it looks legit. As you know, I’m Elton Cox. Call me Elton and have yourself a seat.”

Gabriel crossed the small room and eased onto the sofa, first making sure he wouldn’t accidentally squish something. Elton took possession of a ratty overstuffed recliner that faced a wall-mounted television set. In one corner, next to a window that looked out toward the road, was a table and two chairs and through the door beyond that, Gabriel could see some of a kitchen counter and sink.

Other than a TV, Gabe didn’t see any electronics. If Elton had a computer, he kept it somewhere else. Or maybe he was old school and used the public library when he needed the internet. Gabe had seen it on his drive around the island.

“Thanks for letting me in and agreeing to talk to me. I’m hoping you can explain why I made this trip.” Gabriel retrieved his coffee and took a long sip.

Elton cocked his head. “Before I share any information, I’d like to learn how you found your way here. Karne’s a name I haven’t heard in a long while.” He stared at Gabriel expectantly.

Quickly, Gabriel ran through a series of possible responses and came up with nothing. Fuck it. He was going to have to bite the proverbial bullet and be honest with the old man. It went against Gabriel’s ingrained habit to if not outright lie, then stretch the truth as much as he could before it broke under the strain. But Gabe didn’t know enough of the truth right now to fashion a decent fiction.

Drawing in a breath, he began the story he’d come up with while he’d been on the road. “Heidi Karne, my mother, died recently. Last month, actually. She left me a letter and, among other things, mentioned your name and an inheritance. The letter isn’t long and there’s not much else to it.” Except for the part about how Gabriel came to exist, but he’d rather not hash that out with someone he’d just met. “She didn’t say what the inheritance was, just that you’re the contact.”

Elton pursed his lips and nodded. “The golden ticket.”

“I’m sorry?” Gabriel had had about enough cryptic shit for the rest of his life and fought to tamp down his irritation. “The golden ticket?”

Elton didn’t immediately reply and instead regarded him closely for several minutes. Gabriel did his best not to squirm under the inspection. He felt a bit like he’d been called to the principal’s office. Gabriel had, in fact, spent plenty of time in school administrators’ offices, so he was used to the experience, although it had been a few decades.

While Elton decided whatever it was he was deciding, Gabriel scanned the living room again. He figured that Elton didn’t read much, unless his bookshelf was located in another room or he read ebooks. The living room was tidy, his furniture a bit scruffy and worn. Lived in. A half-finished jigsaw puzzle waited on the table near the kitchen area, the spare pieces organized into empty plastic food containers. What appeared to be a battery-powered AM/FM radio was perched on a wall shelf behind the recliner, and the few pictures hanging on Elton’s walls featured people Gabriel suspected were friends or family. He didn’t see any with a partner or children.

“Wasn’t sure I’d ever meet you,” Elton mused, breaking the silence. “After all, I could’ve kicked the bucket years ago. Hard to believe I’m still here sometimes.”

“You have the advantage. I never knew anything about you, not until after Heidi died.”

“Heidi Karne,” he said slowly. “Knowing her seems like a lifetime ago. Shoot, it was a lifetime ago. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Gabriel twitched, not knowing how to respond to the sympathy. He’d made his peace with her death. Hadn’t he?

“She’d been ill for a while,” Gabe offered. “How did you know her?” And how did this wrinkly old man get Heidi to trust him? She’d barely trusted her own son.

Elton shrugged and sipped at his coffee before responding to Gabriel’s question, taking a moment to glare at the cup in his hand. “Should’ve put this in a mug. I hate these paper things.” But he must’ve sensed Gabriel’s impatience because he continued, “Heidi was a second cousin, something like that. More than likely we weren’t related at all”—he shot Gabriel a look that told him Elton was no fool—“but she showed up one summer needing work, and I gave it to her. Let her work in the front office. I didn’t care if she was blood related. She was reliable and smart.”

The old man was canny; he’d known Heidi was conning him but hadn’t cared. It sounded like their relationship had been mutually beneficial.

“Mercy said you used to weld.”

“Yep, that was me,” Elton agreed. “Jack-of-all-trades by day. Sculptor at night. It turned out that Heidi was great at selling my stuff. She was so good that I had her represent me at the local craft fairs for a few years. No one wanted to talk to a grubby, almost middle-aged man, but a beautiful blond girl got attention. I’m fairly sure that’s how she and your father met. I warned her, but you know Heidi. Delacombe was useless, and I could’ve told her it would end badly.”

Gabriel sat forward, attentive, clutching his now empty cup in both hands. Delacombe was a name he’d never heard before.

“She never told me exactly how they met, but he used to come around the island during the spring and summer, a different girl hanging all over him every week.” Elton paused for another sip. “Maybe Heidi thought she saw something in him she would benefit from? Who knows. It was a whirlwind affair, lasted a season or so, and then he was gone again. When Heidi told me she was pregnant, I did the math. I don’t know if he ever knew she was in the family way, but it’s not as if he would’ve done the right thing. Don’t think that’s what she wanted anyway.”

Gabriel doubted it too, seeing as his mother had never married. She’d often worn a ring on her left hand so people would think she was, but handing herself legally over to a man had never been her ambition. He’d lost track of the various times his “poor” mother had supposedly been widowed.

“What happened?” Gabriel asked. “After she told you she was pregnant?”

“She left. Never saw her again, just got a few letters over the years. Then one day I got one asking me to keep an eye on the golden ticket. After that, she sent me a yearly check to cover the costs.”

What the hell had his mother been spending her money on for years?

“In the letter I received after she died,” Gabriel said carefully, “she said that there is something here for me but didn’t say what it is.”

Elton nodded as if all of this made complete sense to him.

“She also told me your name and that you lived here on Heartstone Island.” He’d left the letter stuffed inside the Honda’s glove box but had it memorized. “And that she’d been paying someone to keep an eye on it for me.”

“That she has, son, that she has. I’ve done my best to take care of it, but I have to admit that age has gotten the better of me in the past few years. Would you like to see it now or wait for the weather to change?”

Did he? Something in the old man’s tone warned Gabe that maybe he didn’t.

“Let’s get it over with.”