see that rifle pointed at you. I do. Let’s get out of here,” said Tench.
Smote shifted the boat into reverse. The mud and weed swirled by the sides of the boat as the engine backed them into deeper water. In a few moments, they stood well out from the shore, Smote turning gradually to head back down the Bay toward River Sunday. Crossing back in front of the mansion, Tench watched through his binoculars the shoreline and the yacht which was fully secured to Strake’s pier.
“You got to tell the Sheriff about that anchor,” said Smote above the noise of the engine.
“Soon as I get a chance.”
“People in town, they take their time, because they think this is an accident.” Smote added, “I just know we’re gonna have to do this ourselves. We’ll have to sneak into Strake’s farm, Jimmy, ‘cause I know he went in there looking for something. We got to find out what my grandfather saw,” he said, his eyes narrowed, watching the water ahead of the boat.
“The guards will be there,” said Tench.
“Yeah, but we beat them. We have to do this because the sheriff, he won’t help us,” said Smote. “You’ll see. We have to work alone.”
“Satter might be interested in us finding that anchor.”
“You tell him. I guess he will say, it have to be more than that before he’ll go up against Strake. You know that, Jimmy.”
Tench didn’t want to agree with his friend about the town authorities, not yet. He continued to watch the yacht. He could see a tall black woman, a stranger, stepping on to the pier from the yacht. She was dressed in draped bright clothes and colorful sandals. Two black men wearing dark suits stood beside her. He recognized them as two of Strake’s African mechanics, men who had come into the garage with Stagmatter in the past. Stagmatter had introduced them as workmen brought here to take care of his cars.
The woman waved toward the mansion. Tench recognized the bulky form of Stagmatter coming down the lawn. The man, even in the distance, could not be mistaken for anyone else.
Smote had been watching too. He asked, “You ever see that woman?”
Tench shook his head as he watched and said, “I know a couple of those African men. One of them seemed to be very interested in Cunningham’s picture. Listened while I told him and I remember he said to me, “We have these men in our country too.”
“What did he mean by that?” asked Smote. “He have a racing car?”
Tench said, “I guess he wanted to say something good about his homeland. I can understand that.”
“Pride,” said Smote. “I say things good about Ecuador when I first came to the States.”
Tench felt Stagmatter‘s eyes on him and Smote. For the first time, Abraham growled and stood from his perch, as if he wanted to swim to shore. Then, when Tench put his hand on the dog’s shoulder, Abraham quieted and patiently watched the shoreline as Smote powered the boat away.
Chapter Three
9AM Monday August 16
“You got to spend more time here, Jimmy,” Katy said, impatiently, before he left in the morning to help his aunt, the Mayor, at the library.
She continued, “I want to sit down with you and soon, Jimmy. You agreed when you bought into my Daddy’s place you’d listen to what I had to say.” He nodded agreement, knowing she was right. He heard in her voice he had to start looking after Katy’s business interests too. Like him, Katy owned minority shares in the shop. However, his aunt owned some of the shop too and she demanded a lot of his time.
At the small library, Miss Peck, dressed in her blue librarian suit with a white collar, welcomed her audience. She spoke in a far more excited tone than Tench ever remembered coming from her thin lips and white face. On a folding wooden chair, perched her long haired brown cat she had named Hemingway. The cat came into the building with the librarian every day. A black woman, too tall for her leather chair, sat on the other side of the podium. Her