Free Water's Edge by Robert Whitlow Page B

empty.
    He continued searching through all the other boxes, but the empty folder was the only one with the former Pelham employee’s name on it. He called Bernice at home, but there was no answer. She didn’t own a cell phone.
    Tom’s father kept older, closed files in a mini-warehouse, but if Addington had lived in Bethel for only a year, it was unlikely any recent cases would be there. To be sure, Tom checked the metal box that contained index cards about closed files for the current and previous year and found nothing about Harold Addington.
    While engaging in his fruitless search, Tom stewed about his conversation with Charlie Williams. He didn’t appreciate the DA’s asking personal questions and casting about vague insinuations without substance. It was bad enough for him to do that to Tom; it was worse to do it with Addington’s widow and daughter.
    When Tom left the office, the afternoon sun had warmed the mountain air. As he drove, Tom decided it would be fun to take Rover on a hike so the dog’s nose could experience sensory overload. When he pulled up to the house, he saw Elias sitting under the large oak tree with Rover at his feet. The old man was wearing an orange camouflage cap. The dog rose up and barked at the approach of the car, then trotted over with his tail wagging.
    “Rover seems happy,” Tom said.
    “I am too,” Elias replied. “He’s a good dog. I took him to the mailbox and back.”
    “I had something longer in mind. Maybe take him—”
    “To Austin’s Pond,” Elias interrupted, sitting up straighter in the chair. “If you park at the first dirt road it’s a nice flat hike, not more than half a mile. Of course, you can go to the second road and drive to the edge of the water, but I feel up to a short walk. The hay has been cut and stored in the barn.”
    Elias was like a young child who wouldn’t accept “no” or “later” as an answer.
    “We should probably get that over with,” Tom answered with a sigh. “I’ll change clothes.”
    Tom put on jeans and a short-sleeved shirt and grabbed two bottles of water from the pantry. When he went outside, Elias and Rover were in the garage.
    “Here it is,” Elias said, triumphantly holding up a camouflage cap identical to the one on his head. “You’ll need this.”
    The hat still had the sales price on the bill.
    “Why?”
    “You don’t want a deer hunter taking a shot at you.”
    “It’s not deer season.”
    Elias grinned, and Tom put the hat on his head. If Clarice had any second thoughts about ending their relationship, seeing him wearing the cap would make them vanish.
    “What’s all that?” Tom pointed to rows of boxes stacked four and five high at the rear of the garage.
    “Things your father brought over from the house. He never got a chance to go through them.”
    Sorting through all the boxes would be a hassle. It would be easier to haul everything, sight unseen, to the dump.
    “That was over three years ago,” he said.
    “Anything you don’t want, I can give to the Burk family to sell in a yard sale.”
    Elias opened the passenger door of the car. Rover pushed past the old man and hopped onto the seat.
    “It’s okay, I can sit in back,” Elias said.
    “No.” Tom came around the car. “He needs to learn to respect his elders.”
    Tom dragged Rover out of the car, then lifted him into the backseat. He slipped a towel under the front half of Rover’s body just in time to catch a large glob of drool. Elias settled into the passenger seat with a walking stick between his legs. The older man seemed more energetic and alert today.
    “How are you feeling?” Tom asked, turning the key in the ignition.
    “Like I said, it’s a good day. Having you and Rover at the house is medicine to me.”
    Tom started the car.
    “And I’m back in the fight,” Elias continued. “It’s a paradox. The battle wears me out and builds me up at the same time.”
    Tom didn’t want to open the door to a spiritual