Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
SAWYER
Sawyer didn’t see Ciaran or Fraser for two days.
When Sawyer had asked, Otis said it was common for them to stay out for a night or two when shipwreck diving.
“Might wanna be careful, Detective,” Otis had said with a grin. “You take too much notice of him, people around here might think you’re interested.”
Sawyer was going to say he was just doing his job, but given the fact that Otis had said “him” but hadn’t mentioned either of the two men by name, yet Sawyer still knew he was talking about Ciaran specifically, he’d decided to drop it.
He just took his few grocery items and ignored Aurin’s mischievous grin as he went back to the station.
Deciding he needed to get out and explore the town, he took the police cruiser for a drive.
There was only one street, Bay Road, as it was so aptly named, and a few roads off into the mountains.
Supposedly, the entire district had a population of only twenty-two, but Sawyer wasn’t sure he believed that, considering he’d only met six of them.
He hadn’t seen another single soul. Two guys, Hendrix and Dylan, were apparently away, but Sawyer had to wonder how anyone would actually know if people moved out of the area.
Apart from seeing them leave by boat, that was. But they could disappear into the mostly unexplored rainforest that hemmed them against the coastline, and who would even know?
If they were a loner, a solitary person, no friends or family, like Sawyer, who the hell would miss them?
So Sawyer decided he should start doing some house calls and property checks, during which he could introduce himself.
He remembered that Ricky Carpenter had suggested him to go speak to a Mr Brown, and Sawyer thought it was as good a place to start as any.
Huon Pine Gully Road was more of a billy goat track than passable road, and he thanked god he had a 4WD. But he soon found what looked like a driveway, if the old rotten wooden sign with “Brown” scratched into it was any indication.
This would make a great horror movie set, Sawyer thought as he drove down the track. Thick forest, lush, overgrown greenery brushing against his cruiser, scratching eerily as he passed. The forest seemed to close in around him, wet and misty.
And if Hadeom or Carpenter thought the town of Tenebrae Cove was weird and creepy, it had nothing on the mountains.
Sawyer drove on for a few minutes more, slow and cautious, until he came up to an old shack.
It was dilapidated, the wood was mostly rotten by the looks of it, with green moss growing on some parts, and it probably should have been condemned. But there was an old Ford station wagon parked in a leaning garage, brown just as Carpenter had said in his note.
Mr Brown and his even browner Ford...
The car, Sawyer assumed, was bought new back in the ’60s, and from what he could tell, it had seen better days. He doubted the vehicle was registered and wondered if he should care.
Did it even matter out here?
The man who came out of the house was everything Sawyer could have expected of someone who lived in such a place.
He was about eighty, at a guess, maybe older, thin with wiry white-grey hair and a long scruffy beard.
He wore brown overalls, an old plaid jacket, and had a pipe hanging from the corner of his mouth.
He used a gnarled walking stick, probably sourced from his yard, and he had a pronounced lean to the left.
Sawyer climbed out of the cruiser and offered Mr Brown a smile and a handshake. “Mr Brown, is it? My name’s Detective Sergeant Douglas Sawyer. I answer to a lot of things, but most people call me Sawyer.”
He smiled, crooked teeth and all, and Sawyer realised then that perhaps Mr Brown was vision impaired, if not completely blind.
“Cern Brown,” he said, his voice like crinkled paper.
Sawyer could now see he had an odd silver necklace and pendant that was half hidden by his coat, but it looked older than him.
“Kern? Is that short for colonel?” Sawyer asked, trying to make small talk.
“Just Cern, with a c,” he said. “What brings you out this way? Haven’t gone breaking any laws, have I?”
Sawyer was half tempted to bring up the old car but thought better of it. “Nah. My predecessor Carpenter said I should come out and say hello, that’s all.”
“Ah, the young constable,” Mr Brown said, his pipe bobbing up and down. “Nice fellow but not cut out for this town.”
Sawyer nodded slowly, also realising maybe he’d learn more from Mr Brown than Carpenter had meant. “He didn’t last too long?” Sawyer hedged, hoping Mr Brown would elaborate.
“They rarely do,” he said. “Been a lot over the years. Not just police. People come but they never stay, and eventually they just stop coming.”
“When the road was washed away?”
“Long before then. This used to be a mining town, ya know. They found copper, but the miners got spooked. Even the logging barges would come in once upon a time, but they stopped too.”
“You’ve stayed on,” Sawyer said brightly.
“Been here my whole life.”
This surprised Sawyer because good lord. “Wow.”
“Born here, and the gods willing, I’ll die here too.”
“Not just yet, I hope,” Sawyer said with a grin.
“Got a few good years left in me yet, I’d reckon. Time passes funny in these parts, anyway.”
Sawyer looked at him then. “Slower, you mean?”
“If at all,” he replied. “I’ll be one hundred and two in June.”
Holy shit.
“A hundred and two? You don’t look a day over eighty.” Maybe eighty-five, he mused but didn’t say.
“Must be something in the water,” Mr Brown said proudly. “Just ask those young boys in town. I don’t be seeing too well lately these days, but I don’t reckon those young men have aged a day in twenty years.”
Twenty years....
Ciaran was only twenty-nine, according to his diving license. How could Mr Brown not think they haven’t aged in twenty years? Ciaran certainly didn’t look just nine years old....
“They swim in the bay, you know,” Mr Brown added. “Must be the cold water. Keeps them young.”
The hairs on the back of Sawyer’s neck stood on end.
“That water looks too dark and deep for me,” Sawyer said, hoping it would prompt him to speak further.
“Too dark and deep for anyone,” Mr Brown said. “Even those crazy trawler boat men. They come in to refuel and can’t leave fast enough. I heard one of ’em say something was down there in the water, watching them. But I’ve never got too close myself. I can’t swim, so....”
“Probably just as well you stay away, then.”
He nodded. “No one’s ever gone in. Except them boys. Good bunch of lads.”
Hmm.
“What can you tell me about them?” He tried to sound conversational, but it came across too cop-like, even to Sawyer’s ears. “They seem nice enough.”
“Oh yes. Big Otis, he’s my favourite out of all them. Looks after me real good. He’ll even bring my groceries up for me. Him or Dylan. They come check on me.”
Well... that surprised Sawyer.
He wasn’t sure why.
“That reminds me,” Mr Brown said. “Can you drop something off to Otis at the store for me? I couldn’t find my cheque book when he was here. He told me not to worry, but I don’t like owing anything.”
He wandered back into his house and came out a few seconds later holding a white envelope. The paper looked as old as Sawyer, and the writing was shaky, that old calligraphic style of handwriting a long-lost art these days.
“I sure can pass it along for you.”
He gave a nod. “Good. Good.”
Sawyer pointed his chin over at the old garage, which, upon closer inspection, looked more precarious than before. “Is that your EJ Holden in there?”
His tired eyes lit up. “Oh yes. I’m not much good for driving these days. Eyesight’s no good. She’s a beauty, though. Bought her brand-new in ’63. Fraser keeps her running for me, though. He’s good with engines. Did you know?”
“Ah, thought he stuck to boat engines.” A reasonable assumption, considering Sawyer hadn’t seen another single car in town...
“Does a bit of everything, I think. He fixes things. Same with Tobin. Not much any of ’em can’t do.
If you need anything, they’ll help.” Then his brow narrowed.
“Except that no-good quack. Made me quit the pipe.” He pulled the pipe out of his mouth.
“Hasn’t been lit in years but just a habit for my hands and mouth. ”
“Yeah, doctors don’t like smoking much these days.” It was obvious to Sawyer that someone was missing from Mr Brown’s assessment, so he decided to bring him up. “And what about Ciaran?”
“What about him?”
“Well, I don’t think he likes me much. Hasn’t said so much as a word to me.” Sawyer wasn’t about to mention the sneering and the incident in the diner. “Wondered if it was just me, of if he’s like that with all newcomers to town.”
Mr Brown cracked a smile and took the pipe out of his mouth. “Let me tell you something about that boy. He’s a good one. Looks after them all. Keeps them all in line. Maybe don’t take it too personally. He’s protective of his town, that’s all.”
His town?
His town?
“Right,” Sawyer said. “Got it. I’ll give him some time. Hopefully he’ll see that I’m here to stay.”
Mr Brown laughed, and the sound whispered through the trees in an eerie way that made Sawyer shiver.
“Time, huh,” Mr Brown said. “Well, we got plenty of that around here.”
The clouds seemed to come in low then, and it made Sawyer think about Mr Brown’s old house and how he stayed warm up here. He doubted the hut had power or lights, even. “Say, do you need some wood chopped or anything while I’m here?”
“Well, I wouldn’t ever say no to that,” he replied. “Round the back.”
“Righteo.” Sawyer slipped the envelope into his inside coat pocket and patted it so Mr Brown could see.