MacMillan Wharf

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Ten

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Ten

by Richard Gifford

With both hands, Shane grabbed the gray plastic fish tub that Annie had been helping him carry. In one swift move, he heaved it up into the bed of his truck and slid nearly sixty pounds of lobsters into the back. Annie was impressed by how such a physically strong man could also be so tender and gentle. These qualities are what originally caught her attention as she spotted him at the Governor Bradford in June, where he was watching a Red Sox game at the bar. They chatted about the game and, when it was over, they strolled to the end of MacMillian Wharf to look at the stars. They talked about science, nature, Provincetown, and the ocean. There, they shared their first kiss. That’s where she fell for with Shane, and his decrepit 1978 Ford pickup truck.

The tailgate had rusted off and been discarded years ago. The bed of the truck was full of the detritus of a commercial fisherman, empty fish totes, orange and green netting, empty five gallon buckets, and the remains of various sea creatures who had their first and last glimpses of terrestrial life at Shane’s hands. Shane joked that the truck was older than he was, and that was no exaggeration. His father had bought the truck from another fisherman in the early 1980’s and drove it everyday thereafter. Shane learned to drive behind the wheel of this truck, learned how to kiss a girl in the front seat at the Wellfleet Drive-In, and learned how to make love in the back of the truck one night under the stars at Cahoon’s Hollow.

When his father died suddenly of a heart attack last year, Shane decided to continue the family fishing business until all of his father’s legal and financial affairs were resolved. After a few weeks, he fell in love with the freedom, the excitement, and the sense of peace that he found out on the water.

Shane had always worked during the summers alongside his father on the Lady J, but had never taken her out alone until three days after his father’s funeral when he realized that the lobster pots hadn’t been checked in over a week. He couldn’t leave $100,000 worth of gear out in the water unattended. His father managed 200 lobster traps around Cape Cod Bay by himself. Shane figured that since he was not even half his father’s age, he should be able to do the same, and he did. It didn’t take him long to realize that he had a profitable business that he enjoyed, in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Shane knew quickly that he would follow in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps and make a living at sea.

Annie climbed into the cab of the truck and slid across the tattered vinyl seat so that she could be closer to Shane. Murphy jumped in the back, assigning himself the duty of lobster guardian. He sniffed wildly around the lobsters and the tangle of nets.

Shane turned the ignition key, and the old beast fired up with a snort. Turning on the headlights, Shane could see the television news staff milling about on the wharf, waiting for their late night broadcast.

“Oh man” he sighed, “are they here about Linda?”

“Yeah, the police chief said the town would be full of reporters by morning. They’ll be coming from all over.”

“Any of them try to talk to you?”

“No, well sort of, but I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s good, Annie. Don’t talk to them, they’ll just take everything you say and twist it around, or make you look like a fool.”

“Mmmm. I really don’t want to talk them. I just want to erase today from my mind, like it never happened, you know?” Annie paused for a few moments, then said, “I found her. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Shane turned pale and jittery at her announcement. “Jesus, Annie, what happened?”

Annie recounted the story of the screaming tourists, and how she and Juicy pulled Linda’s body on board. “Juicy said that I fainted when I saw her. I can’t believe it, but when I came to, he was right there with me.”

“Juicy’s a good guy. He’s been coming up here every summer from Jamaica for years. I’m glad he was there. I’m just sorry I wasn’t.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing you could have done. I’m just freaked out that somebody would murder Linda. What for? She was so nice. Everybody liked her.”

Shane paused for a few moments before saying “Not everybody.”

Annie shot him a glare. “That’s really mean, Shane.”

“I don’t mean it like that, what I mean is that the Whale Center has done a lot of good research, but it’s cost fishermen some serious money. I support most of what they’ve done, but I have to use a sinking rope now on the lobster traps that costs four times what the nylon rope does. That cost me thousands of dollars last year alone. Linda was the author of that report and it became law based on her recommendations.”

“Do you know how many whales get entangled each year in lobster trap lines Shane? Dozens. I’ve been out on some rescues this summer with Linda. It’s terrible to see. The ropes get tangled around their mouths and cut into their flesh. Sometimes it makes it so they can’t feed and they starve to death over a period of months or they die of infections. The sinking ropes keep the lines on the sea floor so that the whales don’t get entangled. Don’t you think that’s worthwhile?”

“It’s not that it’s a bad idea, Annie. It’s a good idea. I don’t want to hurt whales or lose my gear because of entanglement. But each of these new regulations makes it harder to earn a living as a fisherman. Every year it’s something. New gear, reduced number of days at sea, shorter fishing seasons, lower quotas, it’s always something. Conservation is fine, Annie, but these rules are wiping out an entire way of life. A lot of people have gone out of business in the last decade and lost everything. The banks foreclose on their houses, their boats are scrapped, it’s just awful. So, the little guys who have a marginal impact on fish stocks are driven out of business and the only ones who can survive are the giant trawlers that stay out at sea for months at a time, wiping out what’s left. It just doesn’t make sense.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, with the exception of Murphy sniffing around the lobsters and occasionally barking through the sliding window in the cab of the truck. Annie was thinking about her prior arguments with Shane on these issues when a new idea dawned on her.

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you think a fisherman killed Linda?”

Shane bit his lower lip and exhaled slowly. “I wouldn’t bet against it. I know guys who see the whole conservation movement as a threat to their existence and their way of life. When people feel backed into a corner, they’re likely to fight.”

“Do you see it that way?”

“No. I think we all want the same things, plenty of fish in the ocean, clean water, a healthy economy, and a nice community to raise our kids.”

“Our kids?” Annie said coyly.

He put his hand around Annie’s shoulder and squeezed her in tightly towards him. Teasingly he said, “Sure, someday, when I meet the right girl.”  Annie felt safe with his muscular arm around her. She leaned her head onto Shane’s shoulder and said nothing more as they drove to his house.

Ten minutes later, the creaking old truck crunched onto the crushed-shell driveway of Shane’s house in North Truro. Neither he nor his father were very particular about the décor of the home, but it had a magnificent view over Cape Cod Bay and Provincetown. The house was built by Shane’s grandfather just after World War II and was where both Shane and his father had been raised.

Shane hoisted the lobsters out of the back of the truck and brought them into the garage where he kept a tank full of re-circulating salt water. This way, he could keep the lobsters fresh and alive until the market price increased. This was the equivalent of an investor timing the stock market which when done well could increase his profits substantially.

“Do you need some help?” Annie asked.

“No thanks. I’ve got ‘em. Here, take these.” Shane handed her three large, wriggling lobsters for dinner. She was used to this, as they ate lobster at least two nights a week. The first time she had dinner with Shane she was surprised to see him put two lobsters in the pot for each of them. Annie enjoyed the sweet richness of the lobster, but was full after one. By the time Shane had nearly finished his second crustacean, she told him that she was too full to eat another. He said “No problem” and placed Annie’s unfinished lobster on his plate. She had never seen a man eat like this before and was a little repulsed at his savagery. After a few days however, Annie came to realize that working a vigorous ten to twelve hour day at sea, by himself, Shane worked up a sizeable appetite.

Their dinner routine had become established by now. Shane would take a long, hot shower, as Annie insisted he do, while she put a pot of boiling water on the stove to cook the lobsters. She searched through the refrigerator to find some kind of vegetable or salad greens to accompany the “bugs”. By the time she had made the side dishes, the water was boiling. Annie waited for Shane to get out of the shower to do the dirty work. As much as she enjoyed their lobster feasts, she still couldn’t bring herself to dispatch the lobsters into the boiling water.

Shane emerged from the shower clean shaven and having lost most of the odor of fish that he acquired through the day. In what seemed like one swift motion, he pulled the lid off the pot, dropped the unfortunate lobsters in, replaced the lid, opened the refrigerator and pulled the tops off of two Budweisers. Handing one to Annie, he said, “Cheers”.

“Thanks,” Annie replied always impressed by Shane’s smoothness. Clinking his bottle with hers, she said, “I made a salad. Do you want to eat on the porch?”

“Sure.” The two stepped outside onto the screened-in porch, sat down in the double Adirondack chair that Shane made with his dad, and stared out to sea.

Shane finally broke the silence. “It’s a nice night isn’t it?” When Annie didn’t reply, he looked over at her and said, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not a nice night, Shane. In fact, it’s a lousy night. In fact, it sucks. There’s a murderer out there somewhere walking around while Linda’s lying in the morgue, and you’re acting like there’s nothing wrong!” Annie paused for a moment, realizing that she’d snapped at him. It was too late to retract her words. “What you said before, do you really think a fisherman did it?”
“I’m sorry Annie, I just don’t know what to feel right now.  I know you really looked up to her and all. As far as who killed her, I’ve no idea. I mean, it could be a local guy. It had to be someone with a boat right?”

“Yeah. Do you know anybody who would do it? Anyone who hated her that much?”

“A lot of the guys talk trash. And everybody hates the regulations. Maybe somebody got drunk and went crazy, but I haven’t heard anything about it. How’s Mary Ellen doing?”

“She’s in bad shape. It’s such a huge loss for her and she thinks the police chief is trying to blame her for the murder.”

“What do you mean? How?.”

“I guess she and Linda had a big fight or something last night when they were out for dinner. I don’t know a lot of other details, though; that’s when the chief asked me to leave so he could question Mary Ellen alone.”

“He was questioning her?”

“I guess that’s what you’d call it. Anyway, she seemed really upset. At least she had a bunch of friends at her place to take care of her. That’s where I was coming from when you called.”

“Is it possible?”

“Is what possible?”

“That she did it. Do you think Mary Ellen might have killed Linda?”

This was exactly the question that Annie was asking herself, but she didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t know. I don’t really know her all that well. I’ve worked with Linda for a few months, and been out with her and Mary Ellen a few times. She seems O.K., but she does get kind of excited easily.”

“What do you mean excited?”

“It’s weird. She gets really defensive about things. You can’t really joke with her, or she takes it the wrong way. Linda said that Mary Ellen had been through a lot of hard times and she was touchy about it, but I’ve seen her get a look in her eye when she’s mad that’s kind of scary.

Maybe she did it. Oh, my God! Do you think she killed her?”

“Anything’s possible, Annie. I’d stay away from her if I were you. You don’t want to get pulled into this any more than you already are.”

Just then the kitchen timer dinged, signaling that the lobsters were ready.

“I’ll get ‘em,” Shane said.

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Oh come on, you’ve got to eat.”

Shane stood and went inside to pluck the lobsters from the pot and melted some butter in the microwave. Annie searched in her pocket for Chief Souza’s business card. “Should I call him?” she whispered to herself. Pulling the cell phone out of the other pocket of her tan shorts, she punched in the chief’s cell phone number.

“Hello, this is Chief Souza.”

“Chief, it’s Annie MacAlister. I’m sorry for calling so late. Are you busy?” She knew she sounded nervous.

“Busy trying to find a killer. Where are you, Annie?”

“I’m at my boyfriend’s place in Truro. Why?”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Annie gulped. “Do you have a reason to think I’m not?”

Chief Souza could hear the tension rising in her voice. “It’s possible that whoever killed Dr. Hanscomb was after her research. It looked like her office was ransacked. I suggest you lay low for a couple of days. Stay away from the Whale Center. What did you say your boyfriend’s name was?”

“I didn’t say. But it’s Shane Costa. Why?”

“I know Shane. Nice kid. Too bad about his father. He took over the boat, right?”

“Yeah. Um, Chief, the reason I called was that I’m worried about Mary Ellen.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know exactly, but maybe you could swing by and check on her. She gets very emotional, and she seemed really upset when we left the police station today.”

“How well do you know her?”

“I was just telling Shane, not very well at all.”

“Annie, this is off the record. I would keep my distance from Mary Ellen Johnson if I were you. I’m concerned about her as well, and I’ll keep my eyes open for anything unusual. Is there anything else?”

“No, I guess that’s it. Do you really think somebody might come after me?”

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but we really don’t know what we’re dealing with here. Just keep a low profile for a few days and keep your cell phone on at all times. I’ll stay in touch with you. Don’t worry, it’s probably nothing, but I would rather be safe than sorry.”

“Me too. What about work?”

“I’ll make sure Billy looks out for you. You’ll be safe on the boat with him.”

“OK, I guess. Thanks. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Shane stepped out onto the porch with a stainless steel bowl full of steaming red lobsters and two plates. “Who was that?”

“Chief Souza.”

Shane’s jaw dropped. “Why did he call?”

“He didn’t. I called him. I’m worried about Mary Ellen, what’s wrong with that?”

Shane stared at her for a moment. “You just need to worry about yourself. What’d he say?”

“He told me to stay here with you and only come into town for work.”

Shane looked surprised. “Really? He said that?”

“Yeah. He said Billy would watch out for me on the boat.”

“Wait a minute. He thinks someone’s after you?”

“He doesn’t know, but just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“I don’t know Shane. What should I do?”

He sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Stay with me.”

“I will,” Annie replied placing a delicate kiss on his lips.

“No, I mean come out on the boat with me tomorrow. I need to go check the pots off of Dennis. I’ll be out there all day. Nobody would know where you are, you’d be totally safe.”

“What about work?”

“Call Billy. Tell him that you need a day off. After the day you’ve had, I don’t think anyone would expect you to come to work tomorrow. You need a day off. Here dig in.” Shane dropped a lobster on a plate and handed it to Annie.

“I’m really not hungry. I’ll just eat the salad.”

“Suit yourself.”

She watched with a mixture of awe and disgust as Shane twisted the tails off three lobsters, extracted the meat with a dinner fork, and dropped it into a bowl of melted butter. He ate like a Neanderthal, but despite this, she knew she was smitten. Shane finished off the three lobsters in under ten minutes and washed them down with his beer. One loud belch later, he sat back in the Adirondack chair with a satisfied look on his face. “Those were good. You sure you don’t want anything else?”
“I’m sure, yeah. Thanks. I think I’ll get ready for bed, actually. I’m really wiped out.”

“After the day you’ve had, I can understand. I’ll clean up.”

“Thanks.” Annie kissed him again as she stood up. She could still taste the butter on his lips.

Moments later, Shane could hear the shower running. He looked forward to joining Annie in bed. It had been nearly a week since she spent the night. However, in the time it took to wash the dishes, brush his teeth, and turn out the lights, she was sound asleep.

He undressed and laid down on the bed next to her. Lightly, he traced his fingertips along the outline of her breast through the one clean t-shirt that she had found in his dresser. Shane hoped that she would wake and be interested in making love, but Annie rolled onto her side away from him. He was disappointed, but not surprised. After all, it had been a horrible day.

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