Free The Darkening Archipelago by Stephen Legault Page A

mouthful of stew, not quite able to suppress a laugh. She dabbed at her mouth and smiled. “I see you’re maintaining your promise to Sarah, Cole. You sound more like Charlie Brown than a brooding hoodlum.”
    He scowled at her. “Who’s a hoodlum?”
    â€œYou are. You look like the guy who stands at the back of the room in gangster movies — you know, in the shadows. And when the guy can’t pay the money he owes, the boss says something like —” Grace improvised an Italian accent — “my man Guido here’s goin’ a breaka’ you knees.”
    Cole laughed. “That’s pretty good, Grace. I know this Italian guy named Frankie Fingers who does a pretty good Salish accent. You should hear him!” Then he added, “Truth is, I slip up every now and again, but I’m trying. I’m really trying.”
    â€œYou’re a good father, you know.”
    â€œThanks, but it doesn’t always feel like it. We’ve had our ups and downs.”
    â€œEvery father and daughter does. My God, my dad and I fought like badger and bear, but we loved each other and there was always respect.”
    Cole stood and brought their empty bowls to the sink. He sat back down.
    â€œSo Grace, can you tell me what happened?”
    She drew a sharp breath. “I don’t really know, Cole. The RCMP and the local search teams haven’t recovered Dad’s body yet, and they haven’t found the Dancer . They haven’t officially declared him dead,” she said, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes, creating glistening tracks over her face. Cole reached out and took her hand, and she squeezed his fingers. Even in her grief she was beautiful, with her high, round cheeks, almond eyes, and thick, black hair that fell halfway down her back. She was full bodied, but by no means heavy. Voluptuous, the kind of body Rembrandt loved to paint. She was in her late twenties and looked youthful. Natural. Her beauty had stopped Cole in his tracks more than once.
    â€œOur people think it’s important to send the spirit on to the next world quickly, so we’re not willing to wait for the official medical examiner’s report.” She stopped a moment and looked out the window. Cole let the silence sit between them.
    After a few minutes she spoke again. “The RCMP and the people from the Joint Rescue Centre down in Victoria figure that Dad was trying to make it home through a big gale that blew up. He had been out nosing around the mouth of Tribune Channel, looking for trouble as usual. They figure he must have misread the storm and pushed for home after dark. He didn’t make it. The Coast Guard, the RCMP, and even the Navy had boats, helicopters, and those big airplanes from Comox in the inlet looking for the Dancer . My brother Jacob and Darren First Moon have been out on Jacob’s boat all week. So have many other men, from all over the place. There were boats here from as far away as Victoria. But no sign of him….” Her voice trailed off. Cole grasped her hand tightly.
    Grace held her face upright, wiping her tears with the back of her free hand.
    â€œYou said he was looking for trouble. You think he was being reckless?”
    â€œDad was never reckless when it came to the sea. He was pretty cautious. No, I think he was nosing around that farm at Jeopardy Rock, or further up Tribune Channel. He told me that he was onto something. Something that just wasn’t right, but he didn’t say exactly what.”
    Cole looked out the window as a glaucous winged gull landed on the patio of the new addition.
    â€œWe had a bit of a tussle recently, and, well, he stopped telling me what he was doing then.”
    â€œWhat did you fight about, Grace?”
    â€œGod, it seems so stupid now,” she said, fresh tears forming in her red eyes. “Dad could be such a conspiracy theorist sometimes. He was going on about how Stoboltz