Page 61 of The Woodcarver's Model
“But I’m not my wife, not that I don’t love that boy—I’d be proud to call him my own—but after the way that politician McCutcheon and those surveyors treated us—”
Rob looked surprised. “The surveyors have arrived already?”
“Jus’ the other day. Now, get on board.”
“So, you believe me?”
“‘Course I do. Unlike Frances, love ‘er dearly, but she don’ do her research. I just checked you up the o’er day at the café there,” he said, pointing down the street. “I read yer blog. Subscribe to it too now, as a matter o’ fact. Now get that tank o’ yours onboard an’ I’ll get you o’er there. The survey crew’s been stayin’ at the inn, so they’re probably up the mountain as we speak, doin’ God-knows-what.”
“Thank you, Francis. Thanks so much.”
With ten minutes to go before the ferry was due to sail, Francis pulled away from the dock. It was the first time in the ferry’s twenty-year history that the ship had ignored the sacred timetable. Before landing, Rob’s rapidly evolving plan was in motion.
* * * *
Sheila Marsh filled up the tank of her GMC Yukon XL. She liked this truck. It had enough power to take her anywhere she needed to go and enough storage capacity for her veterinary equipment as well as a few dog crates. It even came in a pewter colour, which she found was best at hiding dirt.
As she was heading into the office to pay, a white Suburban drove by. That wasn’t as surprising as the driver, whom she instantly identified as Rob Hanson. He was headed in the direction of Mitch Carcross’ house.
She ran inside and tossed her credit card at Mike, the owner of Mike’s Filling Station. “Ring up pump two for me, Mike, and can I use your phone?”
“Sure thing,” Mike said, passing her the phone over the counter. She dialled Maggie Tupman’s number.
“Maggie? Sheila here. Look, I’m not sure what’s going on, but Rob Hanson’s back in town and heading for Mitch’s place. I’m gonna head up after him… I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the surveyors and the article he published, but I think he needs to know what’s happening—with everything. It’s time… Yeah. That might be a good idea. He might need some help with those surveyors. Or the other way around.”
* * * *
Rob pulled up to Mitch’s house. The truck was not in the driveway. He’d wait for Mitch to return. In the meantime, maybe now would be a good time to try and have a grown-up talk with Kevin.
He’d hoped Rufus would be around. He half expected to be bowled over by the big furry goofball once he stepped out of the truck, but the world was quiet.
Rob walked around the house to the side door. He was surprised to see it open. Not just opened, but propped open.
“Hello?”
There was no response. He stepped in. The place was a mess. Not like it had been rifled by burglars, just unkempt. Not like Mitch at all. He was so proud of his home.
“Kevin?”
Again, no response. Kevin wouldn’t just be out. He never left the house. Rob had joked about it once. Kevin told him he couldn’t leave. If he did, who’d protect his property?
Rob checked out the spare room where Kevin slept. It was empty. He walked slowly across the living room to Mitch’s bedroom. The room that used to be theirs had an alien feeling. The bed was unmade. Clothes were scattered about.Was this the way he lived before I came?He couldn’t convince himself of that. He had to check out the workshop. Maybe Mitch was there?
He stepped back into the living room and jumped when he saw Sheila in the doorway.
“Hello, Robert. I expected you to return.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” She looked at Rob with no emotion. It could also be said that she looked at him with no judgement either.
“He’s not here,” she said. “Neither of them is. Mitch kicked Kevin out.”
Rob was dumbstruck. Mitch had stood up to him. His heart swelled with pride.
“So, what’s going on?” Rob asked. “The door was wide open…”
“I think Mitch did that in case Rufus came back after he’d left.”
