Page 25 of Oceansong
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when they found him.” He thinned his lips.
Angie stared at the ground, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Okay. I should get going, then.” She jumped to her feet.
“Meet me here in three tidesdays. My family will be due back by then. I hope to have an answer to your earlier request.” He gave her a single nod and disappeared beneath the waves.
Angie jogged to the main warehouse, where Bàba asked her to meet him. “Where did you go? I was worried that something happened to you, too.”
“By the coast.” No sense in lying to him, but she didn’t have to tell him the whole truth, at least, not until she figured out what she could get out of Kaden.
“Why would you do that? Luke just died so near.” He studied her for a moment. “But I’m glad you’re okay.” He put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you for calling the police.”
Crime scene tape had been put around Luke’s body, and Angie stoodoutside of it. A second cop had joined the first.
Bàba put his phone back in his pocket. “I contacted Beau and Emily.” His voice sounded thick with Luke’s parents’ names. “They will inform us of the official wake and funeral date.”
She swallowed hard and bowed her head.
A week passed, and Angie stood slumped like a dolphin in captivity in Creston’s small cemetery. She shouldn’t have been attending the funeral for a seventeen-year-old boy today. Her shoulders were tight and her knees touched. Anything to look away from Luke’s polished wooden coffin, adorned with pearly honeysuckles for him to receive positivity and love in the afterlife. The flowers were bright, beautiful, and alive, a stark contrast to the peacefully sleeping boy inside. She hadn’t wanted to see him during the wake, afraid she wouldn’t be able to stop from crying.
Bàba and Emily, Luke’s mother, had told her he was buried with his favorite video games, fantasy and science fiction books, and his trusty wetsuit.
Emily and Beau closed out the service with a short, emotional speech, thanking everyone for coming. Angie stood shoulder to shoulder with Stefan, her full attention on them. Their voices quivered and their emotions were raw, their vulnerability and grief overshadowing the confident, affable personas they usually displayed at public appearances.
Beside them, Bàba stood impassive, face neutral. Outwardly, he appeared like his usual, calm, coolheaded self, a cover for the turmoil he hid beneath the surface. The slight tremble in his lower lip he tried so hard to keep still, eyes squinted just enough to hold back tears. His hands were held in a seatbelt grip at his waist. Like he was holding in the tension, his emotions. Angie didn’t blame him. Luke was becoming his little protégé, right after Nick.
Angie’s gaze trailed to Nick. He stood on the other side, shifting from foot to foot, his face holding contorted rage. His lips were pursed, like he was dying to speak, but stayed quiet.
After Emily and Beau finished, Angie did her duty and offered her condolences, and they responded to her with a single nod of acknowledgment and mouthing, “Thank you,” before they were swarmed by others wanting their turn.
Nick approached and put a hand on Beau’s shoulder, bowing his head.“Sir, what happened to Luke is a damned tragedy. He should be here with us today, not in there.” He motioned to the coffin, now being carried away to a hearse parked outside. “I promise you. We’ll find and kill the savage fishes that murdered your son. They’ve already taken too many of us, and now they’ve killed a boy on the cusp of manhood. An earnest and hardworking boy who did no harm. This is the last straw.”
“I hope you’re right,” Beau murmured, holding Emily close and rubbing her shoulders. He looked to Bàba.
“Chief, you and Nick just let us know if you need funding, or manpower. We want every last one of those monsters dead.”
Bàba shook his head. “Call me Zixin, please. You don’t serve under me anymore.”
“Okay, Zixin.” Beau forced a tiny smile. “I’m still not used to calling you that. Eight years of habit is hard to break.”
Angie turned away, feeling as if her heart were full of rocks instead of blood, and she tucked her hands into her jacket’s pockets.
“Beibei.” Bàba’s hand came down on her shoulder, and she met his eyes, wet with unshed tears. She put her hand over his.
“I’m so sorry, Bàba,” she murmured.
“It’s a shame we lost him,” Bàba said. “He will be remembered. But come, let’s go home. I could use a rest. Think of what we will do next.”
Angie followed him to the ferry station after they made their rounds to say goodbye.
Kaden better be able to get some answers for her.
Twelve
The docks were strangely emptywhen Angie got into work. The caution tape still hung between the wooden beams of the railing. Except for the two police officers who were searching the area where she found Luke two days ago. Her heart dropped when she thought of him, plunging further as she dreaded and anticipated what Kaden would have to say.
She yawned; the three extra shifts she picked up the past week were catching up to her. Her body ached for a restful night, and she rubbed her eyes.
Come to think of it, exhaustion was her default state since she came back from college. She unfolded her to-do list for the day, which had been folded into a nice square in her pocket: Check and record inventory in the warehouse, boathouse, and supply rooms. Then sweep the walkways, gangways, and ship loading and unloading areas for debris and trash.
