MacMillan Wharf

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Twelve

MacMillan Wharf: Chapter Twelve

by Richard Gifford

Annie slept fitfully that night. Her dreams were a constant loop of her and Juicy pulling Linda’s bloated body onto the deck of the Explorer. Sometimes the dreams would wake her and she would be momentarily disoriented until she felt Shane lying next to her.

One version of the dream was very detailed. She saw Linda upstairs at the Whale Center, struggling with a large man who was choking her. This dream in particular stood out, as she could sense the stale smell of sweat and alcohol from Linda’s killer. It was as if she were standing there, helplessly watching it all happen. In her sleep she cried out, “No! no!,” then she sat bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat and out of breath.

“Do you think I’m in danger?” “It’s OK, Annie, it’s just a dream,” said a startled Shane trying to soothe her.

“My god Shane, it was like I was there. I could see Linda being strangled by some guy.”

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. He was looking right at me and he stank like booze and body odor.”

“You could smell him in your dream?” he asked quizzically.

“Yeah. Sometimes I have really detailed dreams.”

“Try to get some sleep, Annie. We’re leaving early in the morning.”

“OK.”

She never considered herself to be clairvoyant or psychic, but from time to time, Annie had a dream that was so clear that she remembered every detail. The first time she remembered having a dream like this was the night her grandmother died. Annie was twelve years old that summer. In her dream she was in her grandmother’s kitchen, watching her bake one of her famous apple pies. The dream seemed so real that Annie could smell the cinnamon and apples baking.

When her grandmother took the pie out of the oven, she turned to Annie and said, “I’m your angel now, Annabel. I’ll always be watching out for you.” She set the pie down on the table in front of her, and disappeared.

The next morning Annie awoke to the phone ringing, followed by her mother crying. When she went downstairs to see what was wrong, her mom hugged her close and through her tears said “Grandma died last night, sweetheart. Uncle Jimmy said that she just passed away in her sleep. He found her on the couch this morning when he went over to mow the lawn.”

Ever since then, Annie’s memory of her grandmother was a source of comfort and reassurance. She pictured her grandmother’s face in her mind as she drifted back to sleep.

Annie awoke feeling a warm, strong body snuggled up against her. She always enjoyed waking up with Shane. Annie rolled over to return the caress and was greeted with a cold wet nose and a slobbering kiss from Murphy, Shane’s boisterous, loveable, black Labrador.

She wiped her face and laughed. Murphy was lying on the bed next to her, tail thumping on the mattress like a bass drum. “Hi Murphy” she groaned. The attention only made his tail thump harder as he playfully chewed on her hand, covering her with drool.

“Ick! Yuck! Shane! Get him off me! Shane!” she called out in a mixture of laughter and revulsion.

“Come on Murph! Let’s eat!” Shane called from the kitchen. These words were as magical to Murphy as they were to Shane. The big dog quickly rolled over, stood up on the mattress, shook himself, jumped down to the floor, and trotted into the kitchen. Annie breathed a sigh of relief.

With the window shades up she could see that it was just before dawn and the orange sunlight danced on the waters of Cape Cod Bay. She glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to her, which read 5:15. Shane liked to get an early start to be out on the water during the calm of the morning. She couldn’t blame him. Annie had learned from being on the whale watch boats all summer that Cape Cod Bay can be as smooth as glass in the morning and be churning with whitecaps by late afternoon.

“You want eggs?” Shane hollered from the kitchen.

“OK. I’m gonna shower first.”

“You just showered last night,” Shane said quizzically.

“Yeah, well, your dog slobbered all over me.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. He’s just saying good morning. Bacon?”

“Sure. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Annie pulled back the quilt and stood up wearing panties and a T-shirt. The cool morning air made her shiver as she stepped quickly into the bathroom. She turned the shower on to warm up while she conducted her morning routine. Yesterday seemed like a bad dream to her and very far away.  As the tiny bathroom filled with steam, Annie’s head started to fill with questions.

She knew that she wouldn’t go in to work today, but what about tomorrow? There were still a few more weeks of summer and she needed the money. What about Linda’s research? She could finish it. She’d been helping her compile data most mornings that she wasn’t guiding a whale watch. She knew what had to be done. She would have to call Bruce Waters anyway to let him know that she wasn’t coming in.

As she stepped into the warm shower, Annie thought about Linda. Would there be a funeral? What would Mary Ellen do now? And why did the Chief urge her to stay away from her? He must know a lot more than he’s letting on. Mary Ellen said that the chief was suspicious of her; maybe he had a good reason. So many questions and she had so few answers. Annie hated the uncertainty. She hoped that the warm water running over her would wash away her concerns, but it didn’t. She replayed the dream in her head over and over, trying to remember the physical details of Linda’s killer. As hard as she tried, all she could remember was the smell and Linda’s muffled scream.

After she showered and dried her hair with a towel, she put on a clean pair of bikini briefs, her bra from the day before, and a pair of shorts. She went through Shane’s pile of laundry and found a white Land’s End Marine T-shirt to wear.

“There you are. Feel better?” Shane asked as she entered the kitchen.

“Yeah, thanks. Mmmm, that smells good.” The cozy smell of bacon filled the house. Seeing a heap of it on a plate, Annie gasped. “Good Lord Shane, how much did you make?”

“Just one package. Why?”

“A whole pound of bacon?”

“It’s good. Have some. If there’s any left over we can make BLT’s for lunch.” He tossed a small piece of bacon to Murphy who snapped it out of the air and licked his chops.

Annie put a small scoop of scrambled egg on her plate with two pieces of bacon. She opened the refrigerator and helped herself to a glass of orange juice. Sitting down at the little wooden table in the kitchen, she said “Do you think I’m in danger?”

Shane barely glanced up from his plate to answer, “From what?”

“From whoever killed Linda.”

“Why would anyone want to hurt you?”

“That’s what Linda probably thought.”

“The chief scared you last night didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Look, I think they’ll find who did this pretty quick. Linda Hanscomb was well-known around P-town. Someone’s gonna talk. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Want some coffee?”

“Not yet, thanks.”

“Anyway, nobody even knows why she was killed. It probably had nothing to do with her work. It could have been a robbery, or anything.”

“I guess so.” Annie sounded less than convinced.

“So, you want to come with me today, right?”

“Yeah. When do we need to leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready. I just need to brush my teeth.”

“Okay. I’ll clean up.”

“Thanks.” Shane leaned in to kiss the top of Annie’s head, then marched off towards the bathroom. Murphy lifted himself off the floor and followed, tail wagging the whole way.

Annie put the breakfast dishes and pans in the dishwasher, then found some plasticware for the bacon. Shane had eaten at least half of it, so there wasn’t much hope of making sandwiches for later. Instead, she took a loaf of bread and made a small stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. With lunch packed and both ready to go, they climbed into the old truck with Murphy drooling in between them on the bench seat.

Annie looked forward to spending the day with Shane. The sun was rising over the dunes and Pilgrim Lake on their way into Provincetown, causing an orange glare that necessitated both of them to put on sunglasses, even at 6:00 in the morning. As they rolled into town, the streets were quiet. There was no hint of the pandemonium of the preceding night. Each bed and breakfast had a little sign saying “full” or “No Vacancy,” which was the only indication of just how packed the little town was for the holiday weekend.

The old pickup creaked down MacMillan Wharf, and Annie could see five large, white vans, each with a big number on the side and the call letters of the television station they serviced. The chief was right, Annie thought, this was a big story. She was glad that she would be spending the day baiting lobster traps with Shane instead of ducking reporters.

As they passed the Explorer’s dock, Annie saw Billy Souza in the ticket booth, preparing for the day. “Stop the truck, Shane, I need to talk to Billy for a second.”

“OK”

The truck slowed to a squeaky halt next to the ticket booth on MacMillan Wharf. Hearing this, Billy stepped out of the tiny booth to see who it was. When he realized it was Annie, a big, compassionate smile appeared on his usually stoic face.

“Annie, what are you doing up this early? How ya’ feeling?”

“I’m OK, thanks. Will you be all right without me today? I really need some time to recover from yesterday.”

“Of course Annie. Don’t worry about it. Take the day. You’re on again Monday right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“OK, then, have a good weekend. You can make up the hours next week. You and Shane heading out?”

“Yeah. We’re going lobstering.”

“Looks like a good day for it. Take it easy, Annie. Good seeing you, Shane.”

“You too,” Shane replied.

In a lowered voice Annie said, “Thanks for your help yesterday, Billy.”

He placed his hand on her arm and said, “Don’t worry about it. Just go enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

“Have a good one.” Billy gently squeezed her arm. Had Shane not been sitting in the truck he would have tried to give her a hug.

Annie looked into his eyes and noticed an affection that she hadn’t seen before. She felt a small stirring in her belly as she climbed back into the truck. “Thanks, Billy, see you Monday.”

The transmission clunked into drive as Shane took his foot off the brake and he drove the last hundred feet to the end of the wharf. He parked in front of the Lady J. As soon as Shane opened his door, Murphy bounded out and ran down the ramp towards the boat, chasing away three herring gulls. As Annie stepped out of the truck, she could hear someone swearing loudly from inside one of the docked fishing boats.

“Goddamn it! Come on!”

“Who’s that?” Annie asked Shane.

“I dunno. Not sure where it’s coming from.”

“Sounds angry.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

They walked down the ramp to where the Lady J was tied. Shane helped Annie over the gunwhale of the boat. Murphy jumped in and immediately started sniffing furiously around the deck.

Moments later they heard the voice again. “Useless piece of crap! Come on!”

Shane looked around and could quickly tell which boat the shouts were emanating from. “I should have guessed.” He gestured with his chin towards a rusting, black-hulled trawler at the end of the pier about fifty feet away that Annie had assumed was abandoned.

“Who is it?” Annie asked.

“Johnny Souza. Everybody calls him Souza the Loser because he’s such a sad sack. My dad used to say that Johnny has the reverse of the Midas touch, everything he touches turns to shit.”

“Souza? Is he related to Chief Souza?”

“I think they’re brothers, but I’m not sure. There’s a lot of Souzas in Provincetown. My dad knew him, warned me about him actually. Said he’s an alcoholic nutcase with a bad temper.”

“That’s nice,” Annie said sarcastically.

“All I know is he’s the kind of guy you want to stay away from.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice. So, he’s Billy’s uncle?”

“I guess so.”

“Must make for interesting holidays.”

Johnny Souza stepped out onto the deck of his boat and peered over the stern. He grabbed a long-handled boat hook and appeared to be trying to snag something in the water. As Annie and Shane looked on, they saw him pull up a long piece of black rope that had apparently been caught around his rudder. Johnny turned around and appeared startled to see them watching him.

“You OK?” Shane shouted.

“Yeah, just some friggin’ line wrapped around the prop shaft.” The cigarette dangling from Johnny’s lower lip bounced in cadence with his words. “Lucky I could get it off without having to swim.”

“Tell me about it,” Shane replied. He had the job more than once of having to don a diver’s mask and snorkel to disentangle lobster trap ropes from his propeller shaft.

“If he’d used sinking line, that wouldn’t have happened, you know,” Annie whispered with a smile.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Shane said flatly as he started the Lady J’s diesel engine. After a few minutes of warming up, he asked Annie to cast off the dock lines that secured the boat. Once they pulled away from the dock, Murphy was at the bow, wagging his tail wildly.

Annie and Shane occupied the vinyl swivel seats in the open cabin. Annie enjoyed the early morning sunshine as they made their way out of the harbor. She turned around to see the pink sunlight reflecting off the white buildings of Provincetown, but her eyes were drawn back to Johnny Souza’s decrepit boat. He was standing in the stern with his arms crossed, cigarette still dangling from his lips, watching them head out to sea. Something about the way he watched them gave Annie the creeps. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but the look in his eyes was clearly one of disapproval.

Read it from the beginning:
Table of Contents