Chapter 6: Terms

The shed radio crackled again, and Judith said it a second time, slower.

"Port Harlow, this is the Thornquist house. I need a boat at once."

Ben looked at me.

He did not reach for the microphone. He held it out across the desk, handle first.

That was the terms, and he was keeping them in front of me.

Two lobstermen stopped on the pier outside with a trap between them.

A woman from the bait shop came to the shed door with her arms crossed.

Everyone in Port Harlow had a radio, and channel sixteen was the only channel that mattered.

I pressed the button.

"Mrs. Thornquist, it's Fern."

The static hissed for a long time.

"Fern, dear." Her voice had gone warm in one breath. "How good to hear you. I've been so worried. Where are you staying?"

"Is anyone hurt?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is anyone sick or hurt on the island? Is the baby all right?"

"Brittany's little one is perfectly fine. We're simply out of sorts."

She sighed into the microphone.

"It has been a trying morning with no word, and the firewood did not arrive."

"Then no," I said.

The bait shop woman uncrossed her arms.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not sending a boat. The Marigold's return was in my name. I cancelled it."

"Dear, I think you're upset."

"I was upset Friday," I said. "I've been very clear since then."

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