Seven
Cooper found himself disappointed that he hadn’t seen Landon all weekend. He did see the dog and the girl with the red slicker; she apparently walked that dog rain or shine. That would be Sarah, Landon’s sister. She didn’t come near the bait shop or dock, but the dog did. At the base of the steps that led to the beach, Ham ran right up to Cooper and dropped the ball at his feet. He gave it a mighty throw in the direction of the girl and that was the end of it. From that point on, the dog and girl headed back toward the town.
He still hadn’t had a good look at her face, her hood pulled up and all. He had to wonder how this whole thing came to be. Here they were, Sarah and Landon, so far on the fringes of the community, both always alone. He’d catch up with Landon eventually. After what he’d seen, what he knew, Cooper wouldn’t be missing a ball game from now on.
* * *
On Monday, the sun came out. The day was unseasonably warm on the beach and Cooper was sitting on the deck with his phone and laptop, trying to learn more about his friend. Ben, and perhaps his father before him, had an odd way of running their business. If they discovered a need, they tried to fill it. If someone needed a place to wash their clothes, voila! A Laundromat appeared, even if it served only a few people. A few breakdowns on the freeway? Buy a ninety-thousand-dollar tow truck.
Ben wasn’t the only one with a patchwork business. Cooper had seen the same thing in many of the small towns he’d passed through lately. Tires/Lube/Laundromat/Chinese Food/Dry Cleaning. It was a survival instinct.
He looked up as Mac came around the corner, his boots hitting the wood deck hard.
“You’re still here,” Mac said by way of greeting.
“Still here,” Cooper answered. “You ready for me to move on?”
Mac shrugged. “No matter to me. This is your place. What you have going there?” Mac asked, indicating two closed laptops on the table beside Cooper. “Dueling computers?”
“I found Ben’s laptop. It’s got a bunch of websites and message boards bookmarked on it, plus a lot of emails he saved, dating back about five years. I don’t really expect to find anything, but I’ll read through ’em.”
“For?” Mac asked.
“I don’t know. It’s not like Ben kept a journal, but there might be something important in there. Maybe I’ll figure out what he expected from me. Maybe he wrote an email to someone about trouble he had around here or something.”
“You don’t have to limit yourself to saved emails, you know,” Mac said. “You can look through old and deleted emails and websites.”
“I’ll get to that eventually,” Cooper said.
“You’ll let me know if you find anything, right?” Mac said.
“Absolutely. Rawley and I went through his things. Found Ben’s old truck and a Razor, his off-road all-terrain vehicle, in that shed. I gave Rawley the truck. He didn’t say thank you, just took the keys. But the truck’s still sitting there. I guess he doesn’t have a way to move it without asking someone to help and God forbid he ask me. That Rawley—he didn’t say ten words while we worked, but he’s an interesting guy. Clothes he couldn’t use that he wanted to give to the Vets, he washed them before he bagged them up to give away. I think he’s the only reason that place didn’t fall down years ago. Now the shack is empty, kind of clean, but full of mold we can’t see. Uninhabitable.”
“You comfortable in that thing?” Mac asked, indicating the toy hauler.
Cooper laughed. “I’ll tell you what’s a pain—dry camping. I can’t go a whole week before I have to muster that camper up the hill and down the freeway to an RV park where I can dump and fill the tank with water. I’m cooking and cleaning dishes with bottled water, and I only shower with water from the tank, although I’m sure it’s safe. But at least the electricity is turned on so I can run an extension to the shack.”
Mac laughed. “Is that all you got for your time? Electricity?”
“I’m sure as hell not trusting the plumbing. But I have a plan. I have a bunch of contractors coming out this week to give me estimates on repairs and reconstruction. I think maybe I’ll get the shack in shape and sell it. I’ll just sell the structure and the parcel it’s on, though. I’m going to hang on to the beach and the point until I have a better idea of what to do.”
Mac was clearly surprised. “But you’re not going to open for business?”
“Nah, that’s just not me. Look at me, man. I’m a nomad. Thirty-seven years old and all I have to show for it is a toy hauler and some toys. I’ve never stayed long in one place. I wouldn’t be here at all except for Ben. I can’t stay here. Still...I don’t have any objection to getting rich but I just can’t sell off a beach and a promontory he obviously wanted to keep.”
“But you’re going to fix it?”
“Just to sell it,” Cooper clarified. “Then I’m gone. I’ll put someone in charge of the beach and the bird sanctuary. How about you? Pay you twenty-five bucks a month.”
Mac laughed. “Wow, that’s a hard offer to pass up. This project is going to set you back some, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s going to seriously cut into my nest egg, but I’m going to sell Ben’s tow truck. I finally saw it. He kept it at the Shell station in town and I think they’ve been using it since he died. The look on the guy’s face when I said I owned it and wanted to sell it was nothing short of grievous. Poor guy. He thought it was found property.”
“I didn’t know you were looking for it, Cooper. I could’ve told you exactly where it was. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it—that was one of Rawley’s ten words.”
“That tow truck, that was up his alley—he liked to work on cars and trucks. He always kept Gina’s old Jeep running for her. He wouldn’t take money but I swear to God, when she told him something was wrong with it, his whole face lit up.”
“I guess he wasn’t as interested in working on this place. You know how old it is?” Cooper asked. “Some parts of it, more than fifty years. The deck is relatively new, but I don’t see how it can survive a renovation.”
“You’re a strange guy, Cooper.”
“Is that right?” he asked, laughing.
“What are you going to do with yourself while this place gets worked on?”
“I guess I’ll help here and there. I’m not a builder, but I’m a competent helper. And I’ll take in another football game or two—haven’t done that in years.”
“What are you going to eat?” Mac asked.
“I’ve been feeding myself for a long time, Mac. No Auntie Lou in my kitchen. The food around here isn’t bad at all. And I bought myself a little grill.”
“You’re kind of high-class homeless.”
“I beg your pardon. I have a master bedroom and a kitchen. And HDTV on satellite. And a great view. Speaking of views...I see just about everything that goes on down on the beach. I’ve been wondering, if I saw something that disturbed me but that I didn’t really want to get involved in, are you a guy I could mention it to?”
Mac got a slightly troubled look on his face, then he pulled up a chair and sat down. He rubbed a big hand down his face. His expression was serious when he said, “I’m not exactly your priest, Cooper. If you saw something I should know about, then yeah, I might want to look into it.”
“Like...?”
“You see anything illegal? Underage drinking? Drugs?”
Cooper couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Nah, haven’t seen that, but I’m sure there’s plenty of that going on. The kids, they’re not stupid—they don’t haul up a keg in the back of one of those Rhinos, but I’d bet my right arm there’s beer down there, tucked in a sleeve or small cooler. Might be pot, might be something else going on. But what if I saw someone getting...I don’t know...intimidated.”
“Assault?” Mac asked.
Cooper gave a shrug. “I don’t think I could call it that. Not quite. Teenage boys, they’re gonna fight sometimes, right? If I saw some intimidating, shoving, that sort of thing, that’s not something you can do anything about, right?”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, Cooper,” Mac said, leaning toward him a little with that icy blue gaze looking right through him.
Cooper almost laughed. “So that’s how you do it. Get the bad guys to talk. You look at ’em like you already know what they’re going to say. So just on a hypothetical—what could you do? About a little bullying?”
“Sometimes all I have to do is talk to a few people. I am the law, after all.”
“You are the law,” Cooper agreed. “Tell you what, I’ll pay attention. Right now the kid who’s having a little trouble, he’s real self-conscious about being a snitch. I’ve been there—you’ve probably been there. I’ll keep an eye on that, since I’m here. I’ll let you know if there’s anything to tell. Deputy.” Then he grinned.
Mac leaned back. “You do that. I’d like you to remember, Eve spends some time with her friends on that beach. I don’t want her getting shoved around....”
“Nah, I haven’t seen anything like that.”
“You wouldn’t keep anything like that to yourself, would you?” Mac asked. “Because girls are just as bad as boys, trust me.”
“I’ll take your word for that. Don’t worry, if I saw Eve having issues down there, I’d let you know right away.”
Mac relaxed a little bit. “I hate bullies,” he said.
* * *
Cooper was back to his old self—making decisions fast, full speed ahead. It took a total of five contractors in even fewer days to get a bid he could live with, both in time and money. It was a huge job, but it was going to be done as fast as possible during a wet and cold time of year. They’d gut the bait shop, disposing of most of the interior. They could save the freezer, cooler, microwave and refrigerated cases where Ben had kept deli items. Rawley wanted to give the washers and dryers to some religious group he knew about—they lived kind of isolated along a river south of Coquille and didn’t have much. Cooper told him to take the pots, pans and dishes, too. He stored the unopened liquor in the shed alongside the quad and truck. As soon as Rawley got that truck out of there, Cooper would put his own toys in there. All the racks of cheap souvenirs were tossed. He wasn’t keeping the bait tanks—there was plenty of bait at the marina.
The bait tanks had been kept in the unfinished basement. The floor in the cellar was dirt and the walls cinder block. There was a door to the outside located under the deck, so fishermen could get their bait without walking through the bar. The room was large and deep and, remarkably, there was no mold or rot in the struts and beams, though they could use reinforcing.
Ben had fallen down the staircase that led to the cellar. Cooper kept looking at those stairs, wondering. How could this thing have happened to his friend? Ben was so freaking big...how could he have died from a fall? He should have left a big hole in the dirt floor instead. But wondering got him nowhere, and there was work to do.
Before all the junk had been carted off or the first nail driven in, Cooper started getting visitors from 101 on sunny days, mostly on the weekend. Bikers, cyclists, the occasional motorist—folks who’d been stopping off at Ben’s for years and wondered when the place would be open again. They ranged from the young, fit athletes who pedaled across the countryside to those graybeards on Harleys that Mac had been talking about. It became evident Ben hadn’t relied solely on beach traffic.
Coop ended up spending a lot of time at the diner, showing Gina some of the plans. What he wanted to do was retain the things Ben and the town seemed to value most: the beach, the untouched promontory, the deli/bar, space for gathering.
“I don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble,” she said. “You can sell the place as-is and just that small parcel it sits on, plus the dock and road, and let the next owner worry about renovation.”
“I could,” he said. “But I want to sell a bar. A café. The same bar and deli that was there before, just in better shape, because I think the town relies on it, needs it. It’s the only thing on the beach. And Ben wanted the beach open, for whatever reason. If I tear it down and sell that piece of land, who knows what you’ll end up with in that spot. Could be a car wash or drive-in theater.”
“But why do you care, Cooper?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Because my friend seemed to want it that way? Because people use Ben’s place all the time, even when it’s cold? Let’s face it, if I let the whole thing go, it’ll change everything about this place.”
“Some people would consider that a good thing,” she said. “Not me, though. The fact is, even though we aren’t a rich town, we have a very low unemployment rate. A lot of people work away from Thunder Point, some as far as North Bend, but they work. This place doesn’t have tearooms and souvenir shops, and the closest malls are in Bandon and Coquille. And we’re out here on the ocean by ourselves. I like it that way.
“But there are lots of people who think we could do with more revenue for things like schools, libraries, parks, that sort of thing. And of course there’s the real estate—it would be worth so much more. There are people around here who are more than ready to make their killing, and they need a resort to do it.”
“Why?”
“There’s no incentive to build fancy houses or condos in a dumpy little town.”
“What about the north promontory?” he asked. “The point opposite Ben’s refuge on the other side of the bay. There must be land still available out there.”
“There is. But the waterfront is owned by Cliff. He knows a big resort would put Cliffhanger’s out of business. And his whole family has been in fishing for years. He wouldn’t do as well if the marina was full of pleasure boats and all Ben’s land was full of resort, the land surrounding the beach all condos and villas.”
“Wow,” Cooper said. “There’s a lot more to this town than I thought.”
“And you think the kids could go build a bonfire on that beach after a ball game when Hyatt or Marriott owns it? There will be a security gate to get in!” Then she grinned. “Since you’re still here, you going to the game?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said.
“Well, this one’s in Coquille—an away game.”
“You going?” he asked.
“Yeah, we have to go—our girls are cheering. And it’s kind of what we do.”
We. He didn’t miss that. “You and Mac?”
“And Lou. The younger kids. Sometimes my mother.”
He just smiled. “Sounds romantic,” he said.
“Cooper, it’s not romantic. We do stuff with the kids. We have since Eve and Ashley became friends. It works out.”
“What if your kids weren’t friends?” he found himself asking.
She leaned on the counter. “Well, gee. Then I might ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance, I guess. But that hasn’t come up.” She refilled his cup. “Homecoming is in less than two weeks. There’s a dance. I’ll sign you up to chaperone.”
“Very funny.”
“Oh, you thought I was being funny? It’s the Saturday night after the Friday-night game. Dress nice.”
“Get real, Gina.”
“I’m as real as it gets. Need directions to tomorrow night’s game?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
* * *
Landon decided he was going to have to have a man-to-man talk with Cooper. He’d been avoiding him, which wasn’t too hard to do—his sister had been around a lot and when she wasn’t, he’d had football practice and then a shit pot full of homework. But at Friday night’s game in Coquille, Cooper had been there, spending most of his time hanging around the sidelines. One time, when Landon looked up, he’d been talking to Eve’s dad, the local law. He’d been pointing at Landon and a couple of the other players; the deputy had been grim faced and nodding.
And that dog wouldn’t hunt.
“Landon?”
He pulled one more book out of his locker and turned to find himself eye to eye with the most beautiful girl at Thunder High, Eve McCain. She was smiling at him and he returned the smile so fast, so lame, he felt like an instant loser. He felt like some idiot who’d just won the lottery. He crumpled in the face of the sexiest girl on the planet.
He recovered his cool. “Hey,” he said.
“Good game, Friday night.”
“Thanks. Not a real tough game.” And thankfully they’d let Jag Morrison, the future homecoming king, play a lot. Therefore Jag left him alone.
“Still. So, I was going to wait till after Chemistry, but I was wondering who you’re taking to the dance?”
He gave a shrug. “I probably won’t go,” he said.
She stiffened in shock. “But you have to go! Everyone on the team has to go!”
He felt a laugh come to his lips. Jag Morrison was destined to be a real king, the homecoming king, a position only open to seniors. He’d get that crown even if he had to buy it. Therefore that dance didn’t feel like the ideal place to be, even if he wanted to go. “I’ll probably show up for a little while....”
“Well...would you like to show up for a little while with me?” she asked. And the usually bold and vivacious Eve blushed shyly. “I mean, I can’t believe you don’t have a date.”
“No. Wait. You don’t have a date? You?” He was thunderstruck, to borrow a phrase from one of their most famous cheers.
She laughed lightly and shook her head, clutching books tight against her chest. “It’s pretty hard to ask, too, so try not to hurt my feelings too bad.”
“I can’t believe you’d even... Jeez,” he said, scratching his head. “Me?”
“Why not?” she shot back. “I thought we were friends.”
“Absolutely. Of course. Yes, we’re friends, of course we are.”
“So?”
He thought for a moment before he said. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, I’m sure. Can you drive or should I?”
“I can drive, sure. Maybe I can borrow my sister’s ride. I just have that little truck. It’s okay, but...”
“Landon, the truck is fine for me. Whatever you want.”
“Wow,” he said. “Just wow. I really can’t believe no one asked you.”
“Oh, I was asked, just not by the right person....” She started to back away. “Bell’s gonna ring...”
He snagged a piece of her sleeve. “Yeah? Who asked?”
She grinned. “Wanna know your competition, huh? Well, he’s not—I can’t stand him. I’d never go out with him.”
“Yeah?” Landon asked, grinning hugely. “Who’s that?”
“Morrison. Jag Morrison. He’s just a stupid ass. I gotta go. See you later, like after practice or something.” And she whirled around and was gone.
Landon turned back to his locker, closed it and let his head fall against the cold steel. Oh, man, he thought. I can’t believe this is happening. My life is definitely over.
* * *
Landon’s sister worked two nights in a row in North Bend so she could be off the weekend of the high school homecoming game. That gave Landon just the right amount of freedom to check in with Cooper. It was a misty, moonless night, but he jogged Ham across the beach, confident there wouldn’t be people out there. He saw the lights on in Ben’s place and heard music, so he ran up the stairs to the deck and pounded on the door.
Cooper answered. He was wearing a dirty old sweatshirt covered with sawdust, a tool belt around his hips, a surgical-type mask over his mouth and nose and a crowbar in his hand. The music came from an old paint-splattered radio. Cooper pulled down the mask. “Well, I thought you were avoiding me,” he said with a grin. He looked down at the Great Dane, who sat patiently beside Landon. “Hello, Hamlet. Kind of calm tonight, aren’t you?”
“I ran him across the beach.” Landon almost forgot his mission. Cooper was surrounded by debris—piles of wood, dismantled bar and shelves, boxes of what looked like Ben’s things. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to clean the place up, renovate. So I can sell it.”
“Sell it? You’re going to just sell it?” Landon asked.
“Well, it needs a lot of work first. But in a few months I’ll sell this and the piece of land it sits on.”
“We have to talk,” Landon said.
Cooper thought about this for a second, then put down the crowbar and removed the tool belt. “Let’s go in the house and get a drink. I don’t suppose he knows how to wipe his feet?” he said, shooting a look at Ham.
Landon pulled a rag out of his back pocket. “I got it,” he said.
The house was, of course, Cooper’s fifth wheel, the toy hauler. Cooper went first, brushing off his shirt and pants. Landon did as he was asked, wiping the sand off Ham’s feet and, for good measure, the drool off his mouth. When he stepped inside, he said, “Nice.” Then, hanging on to the dog’s collar, he picked a chair by the door and kept the dog sitting politely at his side.
Cooper went to the kitchen and washed up. He opened the refrigerator and helped himself to a beer. “I have bottled water, tea, cola and Gatorade.”
Landon shook his head. “I’m not going to be here long.”
Cooper gave an impatient sigh and reached for a cola. He handed the can to Landon. “Your sidekick there need a drink?”
Knowing they were talking about him, Ham sat up a little straighter.
“He wouldn’t turn it down, thanks.”
Cooper filled a saucepan with water, grabbed a towel to put under it and delivered the water.
“Remind me never to have dinner here,” Landon said.
“I’m planning to wash it.”
“This place is nicer than I thought,” Landon said. “You wouldn’t expect this.”
“The toys are under the tarp behind the trailer. I have to keep it nice—I live in it. I lived in it for two years in Corpus Christi. I couldn’t see renting or buying anything when I had this. It’s plenty for one person.”
“You don’t settle down, do you?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Well, we have that in common,” Landon said.
“How’s that?” Cooper said, sitting on the couch across from Landon.
Instead of an answer, Landon said, “Listen, I saw you at the game. In Coquille.”
“I was pretty obvious,” Cooper said. “I intended to be obvious. You didn’t have any trouble, did you?”
“No, but listen, you can’t be telling the deputy what’s going on. You can’t. You’ll just make it worse, I’m telling you.”
“I didn’t tell Mac you were getting shoved around.”
“It looked like it.”
“I know what it looked like. We were talking football, talking plays. I pointed to a few players I knew, made sure they saw me pointing them out to the deputy, but we were talking football.” He took a drink from his bottle of beer. “They can’t beat you up if I tell on them, Landon. I was there, remember? I can talk about what I heard and saw and that doesn’t make you a snitch.”
Landon scooted forward on his chair. “You think they’re going to see it that way?”
“They may be stupid, Landon, but I do believe they know that if they beat you up, they’re going to answer to me. And one of my only friends here is Mac, who seems to know what he’s doing. You should tell him, but if you won’t, I’ll just look like the bad guy for a while. How’s that?”
“You shouldn’t get into this, Cooper. You don’t have to do this.”
Cooper gave a shrug. “Listen, I was the new guy a lot when I was your age. I wasn’t the star football player, but I always had trouble fitting in. And there was always some asshole who thought pushing me around and making my life miserable would be fun. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you...what makes Morrison so special?”
“Money, I think. His family is about the richest family around and he has two older brothers who have big football fame at Thunder High—big athletic scholarships. Not pro ball kind of stuff, but they’re a lot older and finished with college and everyone around here thinks the Morrisons are awesome. I only know Jag and he is not awesome. He’s not even that much of a football player.”
“Huh,” Cooper said. “They live in that big house out on the point, right? Where do they get the money?”
“Hell if I know,” Landon said. “The brothers have trophies in the trophy case and people talk about them like they’re legend. That’s all I know. The coach and Mr. Morrison are old friends.”
“How convenient...”
“And my situation is just going to get more interesting because Jag asked Eve McCain to the homecoming dance and she said no.” Cooper’s eyebrows shot up. “So then she asked me. And I should’ve said no, but I couldn’t. I said yes.”
“You couldn’t...?”
“Man, I should’ve said no, just to keep her as far from this Morrison thing as possible, but I didn’t know till after that he’d asked her first. And my God, she’s so hot. And nice, so nice. And funny, too. Plus, she said it was hard to ask me and also said to please not hurt her feelings too much.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell her no, man. It would’ve killed us both.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah, Morrison might just have more to be pissed about...”
“Okay, now we do have an issue, because I gave Mac my word that if I saw anything going on that put his daughter in a bad place, I would definitely tell him....”
Landon sat tall. “And have you? Seen that?”
“Come on, Landon, let’s be straight here—you’re worried about it. You as much as said so....”
He shook his head. “I don’t think Morrison would ever do anything to Eve. But he’d get even with me if he could.”
Cooper relaxed, propping an ankle over his knee. He took a long, leisurely drink of his beer. Then he said, “Good thing I go to games. And even though I was mad at her for it, it’s a good thing Gina conned me in to helping her and Mac chaperone the dance.”
Landon hit his head with the heel of his hand. “Aw, man!”
“My feeling exactly,” Cooper said. “So, if you have any trouble, speak up.”
“You can’t say anything, Cooper,” he said pleadingly.
“I probably won’t have to, but you should. You should at least tell the coach and, if necessary, tell Mac. You’re going out with Eve. It’s your job to keep her safe.”
“Right. Tell Mr. Morrison’s good friend, the coach....”
“Look, you know what I think. Just think about what’s the right thing to do, for Eve if not for yourself, okay? Now, let’s change the subject. I haven’t seen you in over a week, except at the game. Where’ve you been?”
“My sister has been around a lot. She’s working tonight so me and Ham, we’re on our own.”
“I know you moved here because she got a divorce, but you said you’re like me—you don’t settle down. Why’s that?”
“My sister’s job. She’s reassigned every couple of years. Sometimes even more often. Our folks died right after she started with the Coast Guard. At first she was going to leave me with our aunt Frances, who is the aunt from hell, by the way. I begged and pleaded and finally just started running away a lot until not only did Sarah take me, Aunt Frances gave her a door prize for getting me off her hands.”
“Not so close to Aunt Frances, huh?”
“I hate her. She hates me. If she ever goes missing or her body turns up somewhere, I should be a suspect.”
“I see. Jesus, you’re a lot of work,” Cooper said.
“Oh, but I’m not. I’m easy. I never get in trouble, I get good grades, I take care of things at home and you know why? Because all Sarah has to do to straighten me right out is say Aunt Frances.”
“What the hell did Aunt Frances do to you?”
“General bitching, 24/7. She screamed, she slapped. She locked me in my room, took away dinner, hated me and punished me every second.”
“Gotcha,” Cooper said. “I guess a big kid like you couldn’t deal with that.”
The look that came into Landon’s eyes was almost scary. “I was five,” he said seriously. “A five-year-old kid whose parents had just been killed in an accident.”
Cooper just connected with that stare for a long time and said nothing. “What about your uncle?” he finally asked.
“No uncle,” Landon said. “One of the many things that probably made her such a bitch.”
“Aunt Frances doesn’t sound like a nice person.”
“Not a nice person.”
Cooper leaned back. He drank a little of his beer. Then he said, “I’m sorry, man. So. What does Sarah do for the Coast Guard?”
“Search and rescue. She’s a helicopter pilot.”
Cooper choked. Then he coughed. Finally, he said, “That right?”
“You need me to pound on your back?” Landon asked.
“Nah, I’m okay,” he rasped. “Helicopter pilot?”
“Yep. She works out of the North Bend station. She’s pretty senior but she has to sit alert sometimes. Overnight. She finally trusts me enough to leave me without a keeper. I think Ham here was a trick to hedge her bets—he has to be fed and let out, so I have to be home to do that. She has the old neighbors next door monitoring my truck—they don’t have anything better to do but look out the window and watch when I come home from school, leave for school, that kind of thing. And she calls me. A lot.”
On cue, Landon’s cell phone rang. He answered, “Yes, my queen?”
Cooper laughed and shook his head.
“I took Ham out for a run and stopped at Ben’s place. The guy who owns it now was working on it, so we checked it out, had a Coke. Nah, he’s okay. Well, he might be a perv, but I won’t let him touch my special places...”
Cooper almost fell off the couch.
“I’m leaving here and running home in a minute. If I run Ham hard maybe he won’t run in his sleep or snore all night. Yeah, everything is fine. Yeah, I locked the door. Yeah, I ate...that leftover Hamburger Kill Me shit you made the other night. Yeah, I got my homework done. Yeah, I— Jesus, Sarah! Let me talk to you at home, all right? I’ll call and check in when I get there.”
Landon stood up. “I have to go. Sarah and her husband used to keep separate schedules so I always had one of them around, but since the divorce she’s been a little neurotic.”
“I completely understand,” Cooper said.
Landon laughed. “No, you don’t, but that’s okay. I’m doing the best I can with her. She’ll lighten up eventually.”
“You want me to call you? Make sure you got home okay?” Cooper asked.
Landon shot him a look. “Bite me,” he said, opening the door.
“Hold on,” Cooper said, calling him back. He went to the kitchen counter and grabbed his cell phone. “Program my number into your phone.”
“Why?”
“So you can call me if you need me,” Cooper said. When Landon just stared at him and made no move to get his phone out of his pocket, Cooper went on. “Look, I’m going to be here awhile and I don’t have any ties. I don’t even have a dog. I’m usually around—no job and only a couple of friends. I’m the best person for you to call if you have some kind of, I don’t know, problem.”
“Like if I’m getting beat up under the bleachers?”
“Or if you run out of gas. Or the dog eats a bunch of fishing hooks and lures and wants to die and needs the vet and your sister is out rescuing other people. Or the old couple next door get in the cross fire when the mob is trying to take you out. Or—”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he said, bringing out the phone. “What is it?”
Cooper fed him the numbers. Landon plugged them in and put the phone away. “I want yours,” Cooper said.
“Why?”
Cooper took a breath. “In case I need help. In case I’m gagging on the mold in that shack of Ben’s. In case—”
“All right! Jesus!” Landon reeled off the numbers. “There. We’re all hooked up. But don’t be calling me. I have enough people watching me!”
Cooper chuckled as he watched Landon and Hamlet jog down the steps to the beach. Then he sat down to drink his beer and grew more serious. A picture came to mind unbidden—a little five-year-old kid, the family he knew snatched away from him, being slapped. A kid that age and size being starved as punishment? He should’ve been allowed anything; he should’ve been allowed to eat marshmallows for dinner if that got him through. And a five-year-old runaway? He was damn lucky to be alive.
Aunt Frances was going to have to work very hard to stay out of hell.
And yet this kid...look at him now. Just the kind of kid the deputy should want to take his daughter to the dance—athletic, humble, intelligent, humorous. Responsible. Who got the credit for that? Was Landon just an old soul? Or did the sister do something special?
Cooper had been hanging around because he was curious about Ben’s life, Ben’s town. Now he realized he had another reason. Landon shouldn’t be let down again.