Return of the Wild Son. Cynthia Thomason

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СКАЧАТЬ I never thought it took with you. You seemed to prefer a pen to a drill.”

      Nate smiled. “Still do.”

      “To really modernize, make the place comfortable and restore some charm, you’ve got to be looking at twenty thousand.”

      Nate nodded. The project was doable, if their dad wanted to tackle it. “I don’t see any Condemned signs.”

      “No. There’s access to all the rooms except the tower. But I’d say the only things living here for a lot of years have been birds and insects.”

      Friday night, after he’d had time to contemplate his father’s phone call, Nate had done an Internet search on the Finnegan Cove, Michigan, lighthouse and been rewarded with a picture of the place. The photo had been taken ten years ago, and even then it was showing signs of significant decay. That had been the point of the photograph. A concerned lighthouse enthusiast had chosen the Finnegan Cove Light to illustrate the desperate need to restore the old buildings.

      “So, you think the old man’s off his rocker?”

      Nate scrubbed his hand over his nape. If he was, then Nate wasn’t too far behind him. “I gotta admit,” he said, “I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to come back here.” For some reason, certainly not because he thought his brother was interested, Nate added, “I just had a sample of the way folks feel about us coming back to this town.”

      “What are you talking about?” Mike asked.

      “There’s a bakery on Main Street. I stopped there to get a cup of coffee, and you won’t believe who’s running the place.”

      Mike waited.

      “Marion Malloy and her daughter, Jenna,” Nate told him.

      “That’s an interesting bit of news,” Mike said. “I figured rather than relive that night over and over every time they passed the lighthouse those two would get out.”

      “I know. After I gave Marion the twelve grand, I thought she might start over somewhere else. The trial was hard on both of them, especially Jenna. She was so young to go through something so terrible.”

      “Getting out is more our style, don’t you think?” Mike spat in the dirt, then rubbed his fingers down his jawline. “I have to say, though, dividing up the proceeds from the sale of that fishing boat was the best thing the old man ever did for us.”

      They remained silent, each lost in his own thoughts, until Mike suddenly said, “So, did you see the daughter?”

      “Yeah, she was there this morning.”

      “She married?”

      “I don’t know. But I didn’t see a ring.” He wondered why he’d noticed that detail.

      “And I guess she didn’t treat you like her favorite person?”

      “Person. Creature. Primate.” Nate managed a smile. “I’m not high on her list of living beings.”

      “Was she openly hostile?”

      “Oh, yeah. Looking into her eyes, I felt the past twenty years slip away. I was suddenly bad boy Nathaniel Shelton again, only Jenna’s contempt was worse than any aimed at me before.”

      “Hell, Nate, you didn’t kill her father.”

      That simple truth should have put the tragedy in perspective. Sadly, it didn’t for Nate.

      And he resented his brother’s attitude. He always had. Two years older, Mike had taken the brunt of punishment for Harley’s erratic behavior after their mom died. It had been Mike who’d bailed Harley out of jail, Mike who’d taken criticism from neighbors and Mike who’d stood up to Harley and argued back when it only pushed the two men further apart. But then Mike left, and at sixteen, Nate had taken over the job of managing the drunken, abusive man his father had become. And Nate couldn’t look at his brother today without feeling that Mike had let him down.

      Ironically, before the murder, Nate had begun to see a change in their father. Harley had started to resemble the calm, rational, even loving man he used to be. So once Harley went to prison, Nate made strides in reconnecting with him, in time forging a fragile but reassuring bond.

      He glanced at Mike, saw him focus on the lighthouse. As in the past, it was impossible to know what was going on in his brother’s mind. The only contact Nate had had with Mike over the years was a few notes from his wife, a woman Nate had never met. They’d just shared what Nate told himself was a companionable moment. Could this meeting be the start of a reconnection for them?

      Mike turned to him and said, “I haven’t got all day, Nate. You want my opinions on this building or not?”

      “That’s what we’re here for,” he replied. They started walking toward the lighthouse.

      “Just out of curiosity,” Mike said. “Did Harley give you a good reason for wanting this place?”

      “He gave me a reason. I don’t know how good it is. He said Finnegan Cove is the only home he’s ever known.”

      Mike frowned. “Not true. He’s spent the past two decades in Foggy Creek.”

      Nate reminded himself that Mike didn’t know Harley was a different man now. “He blended in at prison,” Nate said. “I suppose he feels if he can make it there, he can make it in Finnegan Cove again. At least he wants to try. And after spending all those years paying his debt, I guess he’s earned the right to live where he wants to.”

      “Just count me out,” Mike said. “I left here twenty-two years ago and I don’t intend to come back, even to hang a few new windows. I can’t be around the old man.”

      “You’ve made that clear,” Nate said. “For the past two decades.”

      “Good. Because I’m doing this for you, little brother. For the years we had together, before it all turned sour.” He held up one finger. “No other reason.”

      They reached the back door and Mike opened it. “I don’t imagine he has any competition in trying to buy this place,” he said. “If you make an offer, it’ll probably be accepted.”

      “I suppose I will then.”

      “Then you going back to L.A.?”

      “Sure. Once Dad’s settled, I’ll head back. But as I’ve done all these years, I’ll continue to check how he’s getting along.” He cut off his words.

      Mike’s eyes sparked with long-held resentment. “I don’t suppose you’d take any advice from me?”

      “Not unless it’s about fixing up old stairs.”

      Mike almost smiled. “Okay, then. Let’s look her over. You might as well go into this deal with both eyes open.”

      For the next hour, the brothers examined every inch of the Finnegan Cove light station. And their conversation was all about construction.

      

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