She said his name as if they were old friends. “Well, nearly everyone. When Ed decided to set this place up, he offered jobs and sanctuary to the locals. Some came in to clean, to cook”—a gesture at the filmy windows of the workshop—“to build. A way to be safe.”
“They all live here?”
“There are cottages up on the hill, near the camp shops and storehouses. A little community, you might say.”
“Some didn’t come?”
“Yeah.”
“And how did that work out?”
“Oh, a few retreated to the bigger towns. You probably saw them on your way here. With their checkpoints and guns. Some didn’t make it. Like those people who stay when a volcano is going to blow. Some vanished. Some, I imagine”—she smiled at the full-circle joke of it—“were
“Not easy with all the guards I saw.”
She arched one eyebrow. “Guards? You mean at the gates?”
Jack registered the word she just said.
Maybe over by the worker’s part of the camp, at the end of the service road?
“Yeah, at night you guys have this place locked down. Guards everywhere.”
Shana hesitated. “We like to be safe. And you, Jack? What does a Jack Murphy do? Besides split wood badly.”
Another step closer by her; he had the feeling that he was being cornered.
He thought of lying.
“I’m a cop.”
She paused now. A small smile played on her face. Had she known that? Did Lowe tell her? Was that exciting to her?
Every cop knew that some women found the whole police thing a turn-on.
Jack tuned that stuff out.
Finally: “NYPD?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ve seen things, haven’t you. I’d love to hear all about what you’ve seen, Jack. That is, if it’s not too upsetting for you.”
Jack grinned. Exit time, and an exit line. “Not upsetting at all. But ’fraid I have to dash back to the beach. Can’t be missing in action for too long.”
“Sure. We can catch up later, city boy.”
“Right.”
Jack turned and started walking away. Feeling the heat of Shana’s eyes on him as he strolled away.
* * *
As he reached the beach, he saw Kate on a floating dock out in the water, jumping in.
Christie stood up when he came.
“Pretty good,” he said, pointing to their daughter.
“You should have heard her before. Not too pleased with your game room drop-in.”
“I know.” Then: “Better she’s down here. The sun, water. That’s what we came for. And is Simon still…?”
“Still playing sand crab. Maybe you can.”
“Sure. I’ll see if he’ll go in with me. Enough sand digging.”
“Where were you, by the way?”
Jack kept his gaze on the water. He watched Kate smoothly pull herself out of the water and back into diving position on the platform.
“Oh, I saw another building behind the game room. Didn’t know what it was.”
“And of course you have to know what
“It was a woodworking shop. Looks like they build a lot of their own stuff. The lamps, those tree-limb chairs.”
He wondered if being a cop made him a good liar, made him good at
Or just the opposite.
He let the moment pass and turned to her. “Time to hit the water.”
He walked over to Simon.
* * *
At first, he held his son’s hand in the water. Incredible that they had water here to swim in. Fresh water, like so many things, so scarce. But Simon soon let go as the tiniest of waves rippled against their ankles.
“It’s
“Sure is. But feel that sun. Gonna feel mighty good to get wet.”
To show the way, Jack took a few steps farther in. He looked again at the dive platform, Kate going in and out. As if putting on a show.
A show for…?
He looked behind to see the lifeguard chair. The blond kid staring out at the lake glistening under a midday sun.
Simon squealed. But he also grinned.
“There you go, Simon. Not too bad, eh?”
“It’s freezing!”
“But notice that your feet feel fine. You get used to it. Look at your sister.”
More steps, and more squeals. The process torturous, but fun. Jack for the first time feeling a bit of what they came here for. To get away, to escape things, to simply enjoy his family.
Simon hit the upper-chest mark well ahead of him.
And then, amazingly, Simon dove into the water and emerged like a human otter, black hair plastered against his head, his eyes flashing.
Jack realized what his son was about to do.
“Simon, don’t even think—”
But Simon let go with a volley of splashes, the tables turned, wonderfully, and soon they were both fully wet, swimming, diving, and playing in the cold, clear water.
* * *
Jack followed Simon out of the lake, but didn’t copy him when Simon threw himself onto the sand, laughing, and basted his body in the fine beach sand.
Christie threw him a towel.
“Thanks.”
As he dried himself, he looked around.
Off to the side, away from the main pools of families sitting in the chairs and blankets, he saw Tom Blair, smiling, talking to Ed Lowe.
Ed in jolly mode, Tom probably pleased that his family could stay for a few more days.
