Lars waited half the day before he couldn’t sit at Gram’s house by the phone waiting anymore. He got in his truck and drove down to the police station and walked in through the double glass doors to the reception area. It was pretty quiet, as the town itself was still on lock down due to snow removal and slippery roads. He’d had an interesting slide down the hill in the truck when he drove down, but years of winter driving had him remain calm and steer into the slide in order to correct the fish tailing.

It wasn’t that he was overtly anxious anyway. After around the sixth cup of coffee that morning, he figured his body would be thrumming with the added effects of caffeine and anxiety, but a weighted calm had come over him and he had felt as exhausted and tired as he ever had in his life. Only his mind seemed to be in hyper drive, and it took too much energy to have the jitters when he needed it to think. He couldn’t lose Tanner now. Not after everything they had been through to find each other again. He refused to believe…he knew Tanner well enough to know if it had gotten too bad, he would have found a place to bunker down for the night and wait out the storm. Maybe on one of the islands a few miles off the coast. That had to be it, he had to be there. Once Lars had convinced himself that was the resolution, that was when he could no longer sit still and wait for a call. He told Gram he was going down to the station to find out if they had searched the islands, and she had nodded silently, and pale faced, but in agreement.

It wasn’t like Gram to be this quiet. She always had an opinion or something to say, and Lars was worried about her health because her face was so pale. He decided he was going to have a serious conversation with her about coming clean with Tanner if he found him. When, he found him. Lars tried to rationalize the situation in his mind. He knew Tanner was trained for this. He also knew he had a good inkling of survival skills, having grown up in Maine. They had been members of the local Boyscout troop that had given them their introduction to survival and then as they had gotten older, it had become common sense when living in such a harsh climate. Lars wasn’t sure how the skills helped Tanner in Florida, maybe during hurricane season, but he had to believe that Tanner had taken cover somewhere.

As Lars walked through the station, he approached the glass enclosure of the front desk, recognizing the dispatcher at the reception desk. He walked through the middle of the room, past the benches that lined the walls, that also had portraits of contributors to the precinct over the last one hundred years.

The guy manning the desk was burly and tall. He had sharp blue eyes that recognized Lars instantly from the times he and his buddies had been down to the pub. Lars was never quite sure how this guy felt about him being gay, mostly because it had never been brought up. The guy was quiet but in a self-assured way which Lars appreciated. He noticed what was going on around him, and Lars had the feeling that if he continued to be as astute as he guessed him to be, he’d be in the running for ranking amongst his peers.

“Hi Officer Kent.” Lars said through the speaking panel in the glass. “I’ve come down to find out any information I can about Tanner Mason. He’s a member of the coast guard and was called out last night during the storm to rescue some tourists.”

Officer Kent looked at him a long moment but Lars fixed his gaze on him, deciding he wasn’t leaving until he got some answers as to what was being done to find Tanner.

“Are you a friend of Captain Mason?” Officer Kent asked.

“Yes.” Lars replied.

“Has someone been in touch with his grandmother? I understand she is next of kin.” He was playing it very diplomatic which annoyed Lars, but he kept a positive look on his face.

“Yes, Gram, Shirley that is, is waiting by the phone until someone calls, but I couldn’t sit there anymore and wait. Can you tell me if the search boat has returned?” He countered.

“I am not at liberty to say…”

“Look, Officer Kent,” Lars was losing his patience. “He’s my best friend. He’s…” He trailed off. What could he say that would convince him that he had to know? Lars saw the briefest flash of sympathy cross the guys face and he leaned toward the glass.

“I really can’t say much except Officer Sherwin was working in tandem with the Coast Guard. From what I know, the search has been called off until the bay calms down. Maybe you’ll have better luck if you go to the Coast Guard.” He told him.

At that moment, Lars heard the precinct doors open and shut behind him. He glanced back to see Ollie standing in the doorway with a few of his buddies, holding a coffee and a pastry bag. It boiled Lars’ blood to see him looking so nonchalant about the effects of the storm, especially where there was a law enforcement officer missing. He shouldn’t have expected more though, this was Ollie. If he went to the Coast Guard, he’d have to drive an hour to Portland where the main branch was for the state of Maine, and he didn’t want to waste that much time when he could be out looking for him himself.

He glowered at Ollie, knowing he had been left in charge to find Tanner, and also knowing he wasn’t going to make much of an effort until it suited him. Without saying a word, he turned back to Officer Kent, hoping that someday he might win the favor of the townspeople and be elected when it was time for a new chief of police after Earl retired.

“Thank you.” He gave him a curt nod and turned and walked back toward where Ollie and his buddies were standing just inside the door.

“Can I be of service to you?” Ollie mocked him as he walked past. He was grateful he didn’t have the nerve to try to block him. Lars wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from decking the smug asshole right in the kisser. The last thing he needed was to end up in jail for assaulting an officer.

He didn’t say a word but kept his head up and walked toward his truck. When he got in, he started it up and let the heat blast across his face as he rubbed his hands together. He grabbed his packers, mittens made out of tanned deer skin with wool inserts and held them up to the heat. It wasn’t good for the leather, but Lars knew he would need all the warmth he could get and packers were expensive, but the warmest mittens he had ever owned. As he draped them over the dashboard, he fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and dialed a number.

“Hollander.” He greeted George through the phone. “Tanner’s gone missing. Went out looking for a lost couple in the bay last night. Ollie isn’t doing shit to find him. You still have the motorboat down on the bay or did you take it out for the winter?”

He heard George’s gruff voice through the phone. “Nah, it’s still there. Should have taken it out, but got so busy logging this past fall, didn’t have the time. Tanner’s missing you say? Well, dayum son!”

“Any chance I can borrow the boat?”

He heard a pause as George contemplated his request. Maine hospitality dictated that George would most likely let him borrow the boat. He wasn’t concerned with that. He was more than likely weighing the odds of the boats success in navigating the bay with such high swells and even more importantly, accompanying him in the search. It was like an unwritten rule of some kind, that when someone went missing, people banded together in small towns in Maine to go and help the police, game wardens, and rescue personnel to locate the missing.

“Yep, of course. Gimmie ten minutes son, meet you down at the docks.”

Lars hung up the phone with grim satisfaction on his face. If Ollie refused to go look for Tanner, then he would. He stuffed his hands into the packers and put the truck in drive, edging out onto the slush filled road with car. He was already at the bottom of the hill, so he navigated his way to the pub first, where he found Jesse already shoveling the walkway and path to the front door. He put the truck I park on the edge of the street and filled Jesse in who nodded, wide-eyed with alarm and concern, as he instructed him to open the pub for the night per usual.

Once Jesse was set with instructions, he went into the office and began suiting up in heavy winter gear that courtesy of L.L. Bean, the Maine outdoor gear outlet, was also waterproof. By the time he got back to the truck, he had to turn the heat down because he had begun to sweat with all of the gear on, and once it dried, he would get cold too fast.

Lars made his way carefully down to the docks where he found not only George, but Thomaston waiting for him too. He got out of the truck and shook hands with the two older men who looked grave as they all looked out over the bay. The water was white-capped and choppy and the swells hitting the rock wall that partitioned off a section of the bay from the town, were splashing up over the sides of the sea-wall.

“Doesn’t look good, son. You sure about this?” Thomaston asked Lars. Lars should have known George would sound the alarm when he had called him. He was surprised Hank wasn’t around either, but Hank would probably rally the forces to keep an ear out on the radio waves. He had left Jesse with his emergency receiver that could listen in, in case there was a transmission.

“As sure as I’ve ever been of anything in my life.” He answered honestly. Both men glanced at him and then began walking out onto the dock, where the 30-foot long motorboat was swaying on the waves. Tanner had been captaining a 47-foot long Lifeboat which was built to withstand some of the most dangerous conditions, and were self-bailing and self-righting so almost unsinkable, almost. But if Tanner had run into trouble, Lars was sure they would have a hard time navigating in a slightly smaller craft. He didn’t spend a lot of time on the water, mostly because he was easily sea-sick, but he figured he’d already emptied the contents of his stomach at Gram, so there wasn’t much left to get sick about. That, and the fact that he’d had the overwhelming feeling of nausea since they had gotten the phone call, so his anxiety was bound to outweigh any trepidation he had about going out on a craft himself.

Just as George started the engine, the water began rolling behind the boat in a low purr, Lars looked down behind the craft and noticed the gray and green sea water, kicking up behind it. The bay was pretty in the winter, but the water, not having the reflection of the bright sun and blue skies, was an almost unnatural color, and he tried to push the thoughts from his head, that somewhere, Tanner was lost under the gray and green foam, and gone forever. He looked up when he heard the bleep from a police siren.

He watched as the cruiser pulled up beside his truck and George’s and he cursed as he watched Ollie get out of the cruiser with Chief Earl Bennington. The two men walked up the dock, but Lars continued to coil the rope where the boat had been secured on the starboard side.

“What are you boys up to?” Chief Bennington asked. Although it was obvious. There was a level of tension and Lars refused to look at Ollie, afraid his anger would boil over at any moment. Bennignton was a fair chief, if not a bit old school. He had been elected after Ollie’s father had been forced to retire due to a stroke.

George looked at Lars and then turned back to Bennington. “Tanner’s still missing Chief. We’re headed out to look for him.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” He asked, just as casual. He was trying to be reasonable, but Lars was passed reason and was annoyed that he was wasting time.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Gotta try though.” Thomaston replied.

“Shirely put you up to this?” Bennington asked Lars. He had to answer him now, there was no avoiding it.

“No. But I’m willing to bet she’s beside herself with worry.” He replied honestly. Chief Bennington sniffed and looked at him. There was a note of disapproval in his eyes, but being a public figure, and one that was in charge at that, he couldn’t outright say what was on his mind. It didn’t stop Ollie though.

“Afraid we can’t let you go out there. It’s too risky.” He stated. Everyone there knew it was an outright lie on Ollie’s part, but the fact was the choppy water was excuse enough for him.

“I don’t really give a damn what you are willing to let me do Ollie.” Lars replied as evenly as he could. “You aren’t going to stop me.” He challenged.

The tension was so palpable, it could almost be cut with a knife. “Oh, come on now Pearson, be reasonable.” Chief Bennington tried to intervene.

“There’s nothing to reason with Chief. He can’t legally detain me from going, so I’m going.”

“Can’t I?” Ollie snarled and took a step towards Lars who tensed. Chief Bennignton placed a hand on Ollie’s jacket as out of his peripheral, Lars noticed George and Thomaston also tense as if readying themselves to intervene.

“Now Lars, your Daddy was a reasonable man enough, but you’re right, we can’t stop you from going. I just don’t fancy having to chase after you if you get lost out there too! Use your head man! It’s not just yourself you’re putting at risk.” He tried again.

“He didn’t ask us to come along.” George intervened on his behalf. “Nope, no Sir. We’re helping him out ‘cause he’s a good man to us. Tolerates our shenanigans down at the pub most nights, treats us well. And Mason’s not bad himself. That family has done a lot for this town. Can’t imagine how ol’ Shirley’s holding on. He’s one of our own, so we’re going to bring him home.” He finished.

These words were the ones that seemed to have Chief Bennington shaking his head in defeat. “Alright boys, be careful. Radio in and let me know.” He tipped his hat. Ollie stepped up to Lars who stared him down and didn’t move.

“He left, he should have stayed gone.” He said softly. It was almost inaudible to the rest of the group, but Lars smiled and said,

“I know why he left now Ollie. Mark my words, you’ll have to reckon with that one day. But right now, I’m going to find him and bring him home again.”

Bennington chucked Ollie’s elbow again and he turned away, spitting at Lars feet in disgust. Lars blew out a breath, relieved he had made it through that standoff without being arrested, but now his focus fell back on getting the boat into the harbor. The dispute with Ollie wasn’t over, but he had to put it from his mind now.

He hopped the rail on the craft as George and Thomaston boarded from the plank. They didn’t ask what that had been all about, they were intelligent enough men to recognize another man’s prejudices being aired. But they were also smart enough to stay out of it.

Lars walked down the side galley and looked over George’s shoulder in the bridge. The harbor was laid out in coordinates and Lars looked over the area that Tanner had last radioed in at. There were a lot of smaller islands in that direction, he could have docked at anyone of them, or ran aground at any one of them.

“He was last known to be patrolling this area.” He circled the small cluster of islands to George. Thomaston had crammed himself into the bridge on the other side of George and George turned the boats wheel to steer in that direction. Both men looked at him in concern and he suddenly felt hot and cramped in the small space. He exited and went to the bow of the boat, looking out over the water as the spray of droplets rushed up and over the sides, smacking him in the face like tiny projectile darts. His senses were assaulted with the overwhelming aroma of salty sea air and the cold stung his eyes, making them water as he scanned the gray horizon.

The swells were difficult to navigate, and George moved them steadily but slowly towards the islands, but where the trip normally would have taken half an hour, it took them an hour and a half before Lars could make out the faint outlines of the cluster of land masses. They were a darker hue of gray on the already gray seascape, and that’s how he recognized them.

George slowed their progress further, the closer they got, not wanting to be swept into any protruding rocks. He kept the motorboat about a half mile off the shore and began a methodical sweeping of the area, circling one island, and then doubling back for a second look, before circling the next. The islands were Spectacle Islands, Squirrel Island, Cabbage Island, Burnt Island and they would eventually go so far as to search Powder Horn and Ram Islands.

It took them hours to run the circumference of each island and then double back. It was difficult to see even if there was a capsized sailboat in between the swells or banging up against the rocky granite coastlines. Lars was beginning to give up hope that they would ever find signs of what had happened, and they were just heading to Powder Horn island, when he spotted the Lifeboat wedged between two rocks dead ahead.

“That’s him! That’s Tanner’s boat!” He shouted back to George and Thomaston. Thomaston stuck his head out of the bridge window, and Lars shouted it again, pointing straight ahead. George remained careful though. He continued his slow but steady pace, as he maneuvered into the cove of the island where they passed the Coast Guard craft. Lars eagerly searched the shoreline, wondering if Tanner had managed to make it to shore. He gazed at the larger vessel, searching for the smaller dingy boat that he would have rowed into shore, but the vessel was so large, and the railings sat high enough, that it was impossible to ascertain if Tanner had lowered it to the water and used it.

Lars turned his attention back to the shoreline, looking for any tell-tale signs as George slowed the motorboat and let it drift until the bottom scraped along the gravel shore. This part of the island was wild and untamed. Snow capped shrubs peppered the shoreline, and instead of a sandy beach, jagged rocks jutted up with massive pine, oak and spruce trees growing up in between them. It created a dense, curtain-like shoreline that was difficult to penetrate, until Lars spotted the tell-tale sign that there was something unnatural and set as a warning for a passersby.

A flag of red cloth had been tied to a spruce tree, and just under it was what appeared to be a shrub that wasn’t snow covered, but instead had hastily been thrown together in a lean-to fashion and covered with the rest of the red cloth material. Lars surmised that it was the sail from the sailboat, and he hopped the rail of George’s motorboat, when they had bumped along the shore close enough, that the water wouldn’t spill over his rubber waders.

“Tanner!” He hollered over the howl of the wind. The wind usually picked up after the eye of the storm passed through, blowing it out over eastern and central Maine and then spiraling out over Nova Scotia. The rustle of the trees overhead was enough to cause what snow was on the ground to drift and blow back into his face, causing him to lift his hand to shield his eyes as he waded toward the shore. He kept hollering, “Tanner! Are you in there?” A small spark lit in his chest as he pushed his way through the snow on the shore and the heavy bushes. As he rounded the makeshift lean to, his heart leapt at the same time as his stomach lurched. Three bundles were huddled together under the lean to, but it was difficult to tell if they were moving.

They didn’t appear to have heard his shouting over the wind, so Lars stumbled the last few paces through the brush and began shaking the nearest bundle he could reach.

“Can you hear me? Wake up! Come on, wake up!” He hollered. The person stirred and he tugged at the material around the persons face. It wasn’t Tanner, but he guessed it was one of the tourists. The man’s face was pale and his lips were blue. His clothing was stiff, as if it had gotten wet at some point and dried on his body. Lars began shaking the other two and discovered Tanner in the middle. He was at least more coherent than the man and the woman he found on Tanner’s other side. “Tanner, come on man! Wake up! Get with it!” He shouted, rousing his friend.

It took another few moments for Tanner to come back to consciousness and then he started to shiver. This was a good sign in Lars’ mind, because it meant his body was fighting to keep warm, where as the other two, were hardly moving at all. This meant there blood pressure had weakened and slowed as the body fought to retain the last bits of warmth that it could, before hypothermia completely took over and they died from freezing to death. He would have been less worried if their lips hadn’t been so blue, and he could rouse them to at least the point of uncontrollable shivering. By all appearances, it looked as if Tanner had found them, thrown together the shelter in the over hanging trees to protect them from the elements, and then placed himself in the middle of them so they could curl around him and steal the last remnants of warmth from him.

It was the best plan anyone could come up with on the fly like that, and Lars was proud of Tanner for thinking so quickly, but the couple would be lucky to come away with a few missing fingers and toes due to frostbite, at best, and at worst, there could be some serious internal damage or brain damage due to hypothermia.

Lars helped Tanner stand and he swayed on his feet. It took a moment for him to be able to loosen his joints and walk enough that he could point him in the direction of George’s boat. He stumbled as he made his way through the brush, and he met Thomaston about halfway, who had also jumped the rail and come running toward them.

Lars then turned his attention to the woman. She still hadn’t moved much, so he bent, scooping her up in his arms, praying her partner could hold out long enough until he returned. He had a hard time moving through the deep snow, despite his previous tracks, because she was like dead weight in his arms. When Thomaston saw him coming, he helped Tanner up onto the deck and came back to take her to the boat himself.

“Dayum, she don’t look good does she?” He said.

“Her partner isn’t much better. I’m going to try to get him to wake up enough to stand. Have George radio it in that we’ve found them, and they need immediate medical attention once we dock. Definite frost bite to some of their exposed skin, and most likely hypothermia needs to be treated as well.” Thomaston nodded, staggering under her weight a little, and Lars reached to help him.

“Go on, go get him. I’ll manage.” He grunted. The last thing she needed was another swim in the Atlantic if Thomaston couldn’t hold her and get her back to the boat, but he seemed to find his footing, so Lars turned back to the shore.

When he got back to the man, it took him about ten minutes to rouse him enough to open his eyes. He wasn’t sure he would be able to get him to walk because his eyes were unfocused. Lars began to worry, because with the increase in wind velocity, the swells would get even higher over the next day, before it completely blew out and calmed. That was the trouble with storms on the coast in Maine. In some ways, the snow was the reprieve to the real danger of the aftermath of high winds and even higher water levels due to the added precipitation. They needed to be on their way and back at shore.

“Hey man, listen to me. I need you to get with it. Focus. Look at me. What’s your name?” He had to ask the question several times before the guy was able to answer him. His lips were cracked and bleeding and he was able to make out,

“Jasper.” As the man mouthed the name. It was a start though. Lars focused on that.

“OK, Jasper, buddy, we need to get moving. We’ve got your friend but she’s in a bad way. Come on buddy, I need you to dig deep ok? On the count of three, I’m going to lift you up and support you with my shoulders, and we’re gonna get to that boat and get out of here.”

The man blinked at him and Lars was afraid he was going to lose whatever little he had gained. He counted to three out loud for Jasper, and on the third count, he lifted with every bit of strength he had. Jasper grunted and cried out, and for a moment Lars was worried he had been injured in some other way, but he would have to worry about that later. More than likely, it was that Jasper had been in the same sitting position for so long, his legs had fallen asleep and he was experiencing dead leg, or the pins and needles feeling all through his legs, which after a few minutes would feel like the leaded feeling as it came rushing back. He felt for the guy, but they had to get moving, so as he half dragged Jasper back along the path, he had to compensate for his added weight being on his shoulder, as the man couldn’t walk correctly yet.

It took longer to get him back to the shoreline, and he noticed Thomaston wasn’t waiting for him to help. He figured he was probably trying to gradually warm up the woman on George’s motorboat, and so he had to wade through the water with Jasper and help him aboard himself. Tanner was there, but his face was ashen and there were dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t think he’d be able to help lift him up on deck, but he surprised Lars when he held out an arm and assisted him in climbing aboard.

Lars jumped, grabbing the rail and beginning to shiver himself, he hoisted himself up and then helped Tanner move Jasper to the back of the boat, behind the bridge where they sat, guarded a little more from the wind. As they passed the bridge Lars glanced in and saw Thomaston huddled on the floor with the woman in his arms as he rubbed at her shoulders, trying to warm her up. There wasn’t enough room in the bridge for all of them so he nodded to George who looked grim-faced at Jasper and Tanner and then slowly began directing the motor boat out of the cove.

The trip was excruciating, because although they didn’t get hit with the spray of the water coming off the bow, or the head wind as George opened the motor up a little more once they were clear of the rocks, the wind was still whipping around the boat, causing them to huddle together and shiver. It was Lars turn to be the vortex of heat, as Jasper and Tanner curled in toward him, trying to get warm. The waves were even higher as they made their way back to Boothbay Harbor and a few times the swells were so big, Lars thought for sure they were going to capsize and go over. He prayed the entire way back to the bay and by some miracle, they made it back to the docks.

There was a frenzy of activity once they got there. Jasper and his wife, whom Lars overheard rescue workers calling Amanda, were immediately rushed to the waiting ambulances that would take them to St. Andrews Intensive Care Unit. They would most likely be life-flighted to Portland or even Boston where the facilities were better, but Lars followed as Tanner was lead off the boat by a rescue worker.

He turned to George and Thomaston, who finished mooring the motor boat. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but got choked up on his words. How they had managed to not only find the missing couple, but Tanner as well was beyond him. He hadn’t given himself time to think about how he felt about it all. There hadn’t been time. Every precious moment had counted if the lives of the couple were to be saved. George and Thomaston had risked their own necks to not only help him, but Tanner and complete strangers as well.

“It’s alright son, go and be with your friend.” George clapped him on the shoulder. He nodded, and Thomaston gave him a smile and tipped the brim of his hat, which was a fur-lined ear flap hat with red and black checkered cloth to cover the fur. Lars nodded to him as well, blinking back the tears and as he turned away, one of them slipped down his cheek, causing the salt to come in contact with the exposed flesh of his cheeks which were wind burned, and it stung. He didn’t care though. The gratitude he felt was beyond anything he could ever measure.

He made his way up the dock and groaned inwardly to see to see Ollie standing there next to Chief Bennington. Ollie and the Chief looked at him as he jogged, trying to stamp out the sting in his toes, and to catch up to the ambulance that had Tanner. He ducked his head, in hopes to avoid catching Ollie’s eye, but not before the man called out,

“Congratulations, Pearson. Lucky you found them, but just so you know, that little stunt you pulled caused Shirley to have an attack when we told her. Looks like her grandson gets to be reunited with her after all, hopefully the ambulance gets there in time.”