Now he was suffering from lack of sleep and the exertion of ladder climbing, and Polly's postcard had induced a state of numb indifference. He flopped on his bed, narrowly missing two dormant lumps of fur, and slept until he was disturbed by two active cats, who were themselves disturbed by noises in the corridor. There were voices, and sounds of luggage handling, and the opening and closing of doors. Someone was moving in! In the groggy state of first awakening, he wondered why anyone would move into the Domino Inn at a time like this, when everyone else was moving out.
He roused himself, combed his halt; washed his face, and went downstairs, where he was met by a wide-eyed Lori. "You'll never guess!" she said. "A new guest just registered! She has beautiful luggage, and she was brought here in a splendid carriage! She says she knows you!"
"What's her name?" he asked warily.
"Elizabeth Cage. I wanted to ask why she'd check into a place with shuttered windows, but then ..." Lori looked at Qwilleran slyly. "I thought it might be something private between you two."
"Where is she now?"
"Upstairs, unpacking. She's in the Lakeview Suite across from you."
"This comes as a total surprise. Do we have any meatloaf sandwiches left over from the fire?"
"That's about alt—including the whole meatloaf you gave us. I'm not prepared to serve dinner guests, you know."
"She doesn't eat much, so don't fuss and don't apologize. I'll go upstairs," he said irritably, "to see what this is all about."
The young woman who opened the door was dressed in a caftan and seemed very glad to see him.
"Liz! What the devil are you doing here?" he demanded.
"My family left this noon, taking both boats, and I told Mother I didn't wish to go. I told her I'm moving to Pickax City."
"You're a very impulsive young woman! You don't know anything about Pickax." He was thinking, Arch is right; I should mind my own business.
"Will you come in? I'd offer you tea, but I suppose there's no room service today."
"Not today, and not ever! And if the storm hits hard, there may be no lights, no water, and no ferries to the mainland. The only boat left in the downtown marina belongs to Domino Inn, and the storm could reduce it to splinters. Have all the boats left the Grand Island Club?"
"Yes, but ... if I may use the telephone, I think I can arrange something."
"Go down and tell Mrs. Bamba what you have in mind. She'll let you use the office phone ... And now, if you'll excuse me, I have an errand to do."
He wanted to walk away from the situation and consider the complications involved if Liz should move to Pickax. Could she handle her own living arrangements, face responsibility, make wise decisions? Or would she require and expect a full-time guardian? That was a role he was not prepared to play. He had come to the island to help Nick, and he had stepped into ... the peat bog, so to speak.
Qwilleran walked to Harriet's Family Cafe, not expecting it to be open but hoping to follow up their previous conversation. Two men—who proved to be her cousins from the village—were shuttering the windows, while she supervised with tough authority. When she saw Qwilleran, she walked toward him with a solemn step and an anguished face.
"Isn't it terrible about the fire?" she moaned. "We had to notify the fire marshal. He comes up from Down Below if anyone dies—or if the chief suspects arson."
"But you and the other volunteers did a heroic job, Harriet. It could have been much worse."
"I know, but I feel bad because I knew her! I knew June Kale all her life, and I know her pa."
"June Kale? I thought her name was Halliburton."
"She got married once. It didn't last long. Yep, she grew up on the island and went to high school on the mainland, like I did, but she was really bright. Never took piano lessons till ninth grade, and next thing we knew, she was teaching music and playing the piano in • big halls. She got kinda stuck-up then—didn't want anybody to know she came from Providence Island, but she visited her ma and pa a lot, and I give her credit for that! . . . My! They were so proud of their daughter! Her ma's dead now, and her pa must be all broke up. I feel terribly sorry for him. He's the caretaker at The Pines."
"Does he live in the gatehouse?"
"Yep, as far back as I can remember. June grew up there—with electric light, a bathroom, telephone, and all that."
Qwilleran was asking himself questions, and answering them. Did June want to live in the north country to be near her parents? She was too brittle, too worldly for that kind of sentiment. Did she really rent Five Pips to avoid disturbing her elderly neighbors? ... Or so her father could steal in to visit her via the nature trail? Neither. The voices drifting across the yard after dark weren't those of father and daughter. They were young, bantering, teasing, laughing voices. The parties didn't sound like auditions either.
"Do you want some coffee or ice cream?" Harriet asked.
