The Summer Town Read online

  “I’ve always felt I could trust him with my life, honestly,” answered Alex.

  “You need to think long and hard about who you can really trust now, Alex.”

  Sally sat on the aft deck of the EmmaLee. A breeze coming in off Lake Michigan through the channel into Round Lake caused goose bumps on her tanned arms and legs. The last few days in the sun had also brought the old freckles out under her eyes and across her nose. There were days now when she looked in the mirror too closely, she realized how quickly time’s ravages can take their toll when you’ve passed your fiftieth birthday. Megan was down below in the galley helping the chef prepare a late afternoon meal. Sally pressed the speed dial button for Alex’s cell phone.

  He answered in two rings. “Honey, hello. I am really sorry I couldn’t get up there today for the service,” Alex said. “How are you feeling? I know this has been a very rough day for you.”

  “I’ve been better,” she answered. “God, if I have to go to another funeral in my life…” She couldn’t finish the thought.

  “I hope you were able to give Elizabeth and her family my condolences.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t feel the need to make excuses for you,” she said with an edge.

  “Sally, you know there are some issues coming together here. Lou has pulled some serious shit with our books and the Attorney General of New York is all over us.”

  “I just thought you could take a day for someone who means this much to me,” she said quietly.

  Alex sighed deeply into the phone. “Sally, I was just getting ready to call you. I can’t come up for a couple more days. I’m here with Anna right now trying to work out how we’re going to put our case together.”

  “With Anna?” she said, her voice growing tense again. “Where is Louis? Why isn’t he doing the work on this?”

  “Right now, Lou Kramer is a big part of the problem and I’m not sure how much he can be a part of the solution.”

  “So where are you now?” she asked.

  “I’m down at my office in the city. Anna and I have been going through the background on all this.”

  “I didn’t know high-priced New York attorneys worked on Saturdays,” Sally said.

  “I had her come in from the Island. We have to get prepared for this as quickly as we can.”

  Sally could feel an old sense of dread coming back from years ago and an ex-husband who always had some excuse for staying away. She tried to calm herself before speaking. “Alex, I’m sure you’re doing what’s best, just please try to get here as soon as you can. Megan and I need you to be here with us.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he promised.

  Chapter Two

  Jonathan McKendry and Emily Compton were married here in Charlevoix about a year after the Second World War had finally come to an end. It was quite an affair on her father’s big ship, the EmmaLee, right here on Round Lake. All the summer society people were there and Jonathan’s local family and friends. It was a real contrast in cultures, as I recall. We had all been through so much together in those years before and after we returned from the War. Jonathan was so blessed to have had Emily there with him to see him through some very dark times for all of us. My wife, Elizabeth, and I remained the closest of friends with Jonathan and Emily. They were a wonderful couple together.

  Emily finished medical school and her residency down in Ann Arbor and joined a family practice here in Charlevoix. Jonathan was able to finish school and received his engineering degree from the University of Michigan about the same time I was finishing law school down there. He worked for a couple of years for a boat manufacturing company down in Elk Rapids before he was ready to go off on his own. McKendry Yachts was formed back in 1950, and Jonathan and his company built some fine boats over the years. A few years later they would be blessed to have their first and only child, the beautiful little Sally.

  We were all settling down into a fairly normal and peaceful existence here in the North. Then there was the summer of ’52.

  Jonathan steered the small fishing dinghy into the slip as George Hansen stood up in the bow to secure the lines. It had been dark for about an hour and the bugs gathered in furious clusters around the lights along the pier. It was late June and the big summer mayflies were out like a blizzard on most nights. There was a new moon and all the forces of nature had come together to get the fish to feed with abandon. The stringer tied to the side of the boat was filled with trout and smallmouth bass. Heat lightning flashed across the sky out over the big lake to the west and the distant rumble of thunder could just be heard over the sounds of the comings and goings on the little Round Lake harbor. The smell of rain was heavy in the air.

  “Hansen, do you remember how to tie a knot up there?” Jonathan teased as he watched his old friend scramble up onto the dock in his baggy shorts and old sneakers, a faded flowered shirt stretched out over his fully rounded middle. His sandy brown hair was trimmed short in a brush-cut sticking straight up on top of his head and his face had a perpetual flush of redness in his cheeks.

  “Yeah,” George said, laughing, “a better knot than you tied on the hook that big bass still has in his lip down on the bottom of the bay.”

  Jonathan laughed and said. “That must have been a helluva fish. He took me down like a freight train.”

  “You think every fish you hook and don’t land is a monster. There can’t be that many big fish in the whole damn lake.”

  They both heard footsteps on the dock and looked up to see Emily McKendry and Elizabeth Hansen coming down toward them.

  “Well, look at this welcoming party,” Jonathan said. “You’re just in time to help clean the fish, girls.”

  “Not likely, McKendry,” answered his wife. Emily was a year from thirty and in spite of the toll of medical school and residency, she had retained much of the youthful brightness in her face. Her light brown hair still curled naturally, and she had kept it long over the years. In cut-off jeans, an old faded University of Michigan t-shirt and worn sneakers, she looked more like one of the summer kids up for the season than someone who had graduated near the top of her class in medical school just a few years earlier. Both women sat down on the edge of the dock next to the boat with their feet dangling above the water, as the men continued to stow their gear and clean up the boat.

  “Boys, there’s been a really bad incident in town tonight,” Emily said. “Elizabeth and I were just downtown at the drug store and we heard about it from Dr. Bailey’s nurse, Gail. You know Jennifer Harris, Connor’s younger sister? She was found in pretty bad shape down on the beach off Fisherman’s Island tonight. Gail wasn’t supposed to say anything, but apparently she was found passed out drunk up in the dunes and it appears she’s been raped.”

  Both men turned with concerned looks. “Is she going to be O.K?” asked George.

  “Sounds like she’s in pretty rough shape,” answered Elizabeth.

  Jonathan just looked at his wife in silence, thinking about his past dealings with the Harris family.

  “Has she said who did this?” asked George.

  “I guess not, or at least Gail didn’t know,” Emily said, standing back up and holding on to one of the big wood pilings that supported the dock.

  “There’s going to be hell to pay, knowing the Harris clan,” said George, “and damn if there shouldn’t be.”

  The next morning, George was unlocking the door to his small law office on Park Street when he noticed someone coming up from behind him. He saw it was Mary Truegood, a member of the Ottawa tribe of Indians whose family had lived in the area for many years. She had a little boy at her side, holding his hand. George had come to know her father, Albert, in the times following the tragic death of his sister back when he and Jonathan had returned from the War. Albert Truegood had ultimately helped to free Jonathan from being mistakenly charged with her murder.

  She stopped beside him as he opened his door. “Mr. Hansen, there’s been some bad trouble and I need to spea
k with you.”

  “Come on in, Mary. Let’s get some coffee going,” He held the door for her to enter. “Who do we have with you here today?” he asked, looking down at the young boy.

  “This is my youngest, Jonas,” she answered. “I couldn’t get anyone to watch him.”

  George offered them both a chair across from his desk and went into the small pantry next to his office to get the coffee pot going. When he came back out, he noticed she was fighting to hold back tears. She was a woman who appeared to be approaching her fifties; traces of gray were showing in her long black hair and hard lines spread across her forehead and down her cheeks. She was dressed in a long black cotton skirt and loose-fitting blue and black checkered blouse. George noticed she was wearing heavy work boots that seemed odd for a woman. Little Jonas sat next to her, his feet dangling above the floor. He had a small stuffed animal in his hands that seemed to be keeping him occupied. “Tell me what’s happened, Mary.”

  “Mr. Hansen…”

  “Please call me George.”

  “Yes sir. It’s my oldest son, Samuel. Do you know Sammy?”

  “Yes, I’ve seen him around town. Doesn’t he work over at McKendry’s boatyard?”

  “That’s right, he’s been there for over a year and he works very hard. He’s already received a raise from Mr. McKendry. He works on the hulls, but he’s also learning to be an electrician.”

  “Yes, I do know Sammy,” George said. “Tell me what’s happened.”

  The tears were flowing freely now, and Mary Truegood reached for a handkerchief from her small brown leather purse. Jonas looked up at his mother with a frightened stare. George sat down across from her and put his hand out on top of hers. “Please, what’s happened with Sammy?”

  She managed to choke back her tears and then spoke quietly. “Do you know the Harris girl? They’re summer people.”

  George felt his heart sink. He just nodded.

  “She’s been badly hurt.”

  “Yes, I know. I heard about it last night.”

  “She told the police this morning it was my Sammy, that it was Sammy who hurt her!” She almost wailed as the painful words came out.

  “How did you hear about this?” he asked, trying to calm her by holding her hand tighter.

  “They came to my house this morning. The police came to find Sammy.”

  “Did they take him away?”

  She pulled her hand away to rub her eyes and blow her nose. “No, he didn’t come home last night.”

  “Wouldn’t he be at work this morning?” George asked.

  “I called there, but he didn’t come in today. He’s never late or absent. Something’s happened Mr. Hansen.”

  George reached across his desk and picked up the phone. “Let me call my friend, Jonathan, and see if he’s seen him yet today or if he’s heard from him.”

  “Mr. Hansen, my Sammy would never hurt this girl. You have to help us.”

  The night before, Connor Harris had stood with his father in the hall outside his sister’s hospital room. He tried his best to calm the fury rising in his chest. In his early 30’s, he was prematurely gray and the skin on his face was pallid, his eyes sunken and brooding. The hospital was quiet and only an occasional nurse walked by on her rounds. The antiseptic smell of the place was thick in the air. They received the call earlier in the evening that his sister, Jennifer, had been brought into the hospital by friends when they had been unable to revive her during a party at the beach.

  He and his father had immediately come down to the hospital. The first nurse they encountered in the hallway tried to reassure them Jennifer had just had too much to drink and was suffering from a terrible hangover. But, she was beginning to regain some sense of where she was and started to complain of various pains and discomfort. A doctor was called to examine her again.

  When the doctor came out into the waiting area, he had a stern look on his face and said, “We should step over into the hallway where we can speak privately.” Connor Harris and his father followed young Dr. Bailey who was on call that night. Connor still walked with a slight limp from an injury he received in a fight with Jonathan McKendry’s brother, Luke, years ago on a summer night on the streets of Charlevoix.

  When they were alone and the doctor could speak freely, he began, “Let me be very honest with you. I’m afraid Jennifer had intercourse this evening without protection. She’s having trouble piecing together the events of the evening.”

  “I’m her father, Warren Harris. Who was she with!” the elder Harris demanded. He was slightly built and noticeably shorter than his son. A pinched expression on his pale white face seemed to come from some deep ailment or affliction that caused him constant discomfort. He had thrown a wool Burberry sports jacket on over a white golf shirt before coming down to the hospital. They hung loosely on him like a son trying to wear his dad’s clothing.

  “She doesn’t seem up to talking about it right now, sir,” the young doctor said, somewhat embarrassed.

  “Well, she’ll damn well talk to me about it!”

  Connor followed his father down the hall, and they entered the private room. Jennifer was lying on her back, apparently asleep. A nurse was checking a chart next to the bed. “Would you leave us alone, please?” Connor asked the nurse. She nodded and left the room. “Dad, don’t you think we should let her sleep this off? I want to find out who this asshole is as bad as you, but she’ll feel better in the morning and we can find out what’s going on here.”

  “Goddamit, no!” his father said. His face was now glowing red from the bad combination of high blood pressure and anxiety. He walked over and leaned in close to his daughter. Her hair was in a scattered mess against the pillow. Her face had a yellowish pallor and darker circles spread out beneath her eyes, streaked with tear-stained eye makeup. The nurses had dressed her in a blue hospital gown. He placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her several times. “Jennifer, you need to wake up!”

  After several moments of prodding, the young girl’s eyes began to flutter and then they opened with a vacant stare. She moaned softly and said something indistinguishable.

  Connor spoke up, moving over next to the other side of the bed. “Hey Jenn, what’s going on here? You need to wake up and tell us what the hell is going on.” She didn’t respond. “Jennifer!” he said with more urgency. “Tell me who did this to you?”

  Her eyes gained focus and she looked first at her father and then over at her brother.

  “Oh God,” she whispered. “My head is going to explode.”

  Connor could smell the whiskey on her breath. “Jenny, just tell me what happened.”

  She tried to sit up some in the bed but didn’t make much progress. She let out a deep sigh and then tried to swallow. “I don’t know.”

  “You sure as hell do, young lady,” her father said. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Daddy, I don’t know. I was down at the beach with Elaine and then some other kids came and then… I don’t know.”

  The doctor walked back into the room. “We have some additional tests we need to do, in case… in case something inappropriate has happened here.”

  “A few more minutes, Doc,” Connor said.

  The doctor nodded and backed reluctantly out of the room.

  “Jennifer, who were these boys?” her father asked again. “You better tell me now. You know I’ll find out one way or the other.”

  Jennifer hesitated and then tried to speak, but just mumbled a few words.

  “Dammit, girl, who was it?” Warren Harris demanded.

  She turned her head into the pillow. Her father reached over and pulled her back to face him. She started to cry and let out a low moan. “Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she couldn’t finish the thought.

  Her father softened his tone. “I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Connor looked up, noticing someone standing at the door. Sammy Truegood stood there with his hands in
the pockets of his faded denim overalls. His thick black hair was cut unevenly and fell over his ears and across his eyes until he brushed it back to the side.

  “What the hell do you want, boy?” Connor spat.

  Jennifer struggled to sit up to look around her father. “Sammy, what are you…?”

  “Who the hell is this?” Warren Harris asked.

  Sammy said, “I heard Jennifer was down here and I wanted to check to see if she was okay.”

  “Do you know this boy?” her father asked.

  She didn’t answer, seemingly confused about his arrival.

  Connor came around the bed and walked the short distance across the room to face the young man. “You better tell me you weren’t down at the beach tonight with my sister.” He pressed in closer, only inches from Sammy’s face.

  “Yeah, I was with her and Elaine. We were swimming out at Fisherman’s.”

  Connor grabbed him with both hands by the loose fabric of his shirt and pushed him hard up against the door jam. “Why you sonofabitch! If you touched my sister…”

  Sammy pushed him away and Connor staggered back against the bed.

  “What’re you talking about? We were only swimming. I just wanted to see how she was feeling,” Sammy tried to explain.

  A nurse walked in. “All of you need to be quiet. We have other patients,” she scolded.

  Warren Harris walked over to her, keeping his eyes on Sammy Truegood, who was still standing in the doorway. “Nurse, you need to go find the doctor and tell him to call the sheriff’s office, now!” he demanded.

  “Daddy, please,” Jennifer pleaded.

  The elder Harris reached back to calm his daughter. “Honey, we will damn well get to the bottom of this,” he said. He helped her adjust the pillow behind her head. When he looked back to the door, Sammy Truegood was gone.