Free Shattered Shell by Brendan DuBois Page A

working on this."
    "Oh, something interesting?"
    I felt a queasiness at the back of my throat, knowing what I would be doing tomorrow.
    "Something that has to be done," I said. "So I thought you might like some additional background, maybe some extra places you can poke around. Second, well, I may be good in digging up records, but Paula, you know the people here better than I do. I can't remember the last time I've been to a selectmen's or a planning board meeting. You know the people, and I think you might be able to find some connections there I've missed. Are these people related in some way? Go to the same church? Have feuds?"
    She smiled and put the folder down on her coat, which was in the chair next to her. "You make me sound like Queen Gossip. And let me tell you, you haven't missed that much in going to town meetings. Most people who go are hardworking types, just trying to do their best for the town and themselves, but usually they're drowned out by small minds wrestling with even smaller issues. And what was the third reason?"
    "The third reason is that I think you're a dear. That's why you got the gift."
    I think she blushed, which made me happy. Nice to know I still had that ability. She finished off her juice and said, "You know I've been spending time with Jerry."
    "I know. Is it nice?"
    She shrugged. "Nice enough," and she looked up at me, something in her expression. "It's just that I think you're a dear, too. Don't you forget it."
    "I won't."
    As we got up and dragged on our winter coats, she said, "I'm impressed with what you got there." And then she giggled. "Is it because of your spy training?"
    "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't."
    We walked out and then we were in the cold sea air. She put her arm through mine and said, "In the time I've known you, I've tried practically everything, from threats to bribes, to get you to talk about what you did in the Pentagon, or to find out why when you’re in a bathing suit, it looks like someone's used your skin for target practice. Why won't you talk?"
    I squeezed her arm with mine. "It's not a matter of won't. It’s a matter of can't."
    Was it dangerous?"
    "Rarely. Mostly it was boring."
    "But secretive."
    "Very."
    We reached her car and as she fumbled in her coat for her keys, she said, "So when can I expect you to tell me? When we have a new president? A new Congress?"
    I touched her cheek. "The day people decide they don't want secrets anymore, and the spooks are all happily paid off to retirement, and we don't have to worry about demons who blow up airlines, shoot children in playgrounds, or burn down houses in the middle of the night, then give me a call, and I'll tell you everything."
    She shook her head. "I won't hold my breath."
    "Neither would I."
    "Thanks for the gift. I'll let you know if I get anything," and she smiled one more time. "That will be a wonderful day, when I can get a scoop over Shoreline and the Porter Herald in one mouth."
    I said that was fine and I gave her a quick kiss, which was nice enough, and then I walked back to my own vehicle, digging my hands in my pockets, boots crunching on the snow and ice, looking out at the empty sands of Tyler Beach and the cold waters of the demanding ocean, dreading the week that was ahead of me.
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    At about ten on Monday morning I went to a condominium complex called Tyler Harbor Meadows, which is on the northern end of Tyler Harbor, where it narrows to meet the tidal flow of the Wonalancet River. It's made up of about a dozen townhouses, built near the water's edge and together in a horseshoe formation, and I pulled into an empty parking spot near number 14, Diane Woods's place.
    There was a brisk wind coming off the harbor and I kept my hands in my coat as I walked across the parking lot, glancing back once. Out on the harbor was the normal complement of fishing boats, but all of the sailing boats --- including Diane's Miranda --- were gone, now in storage. I didn't like the view.