At the Water's Edge by Sara Gruen Read Free Book Online Page B

eyes.
    â€œMaddie, darling girl. This is my last hurrah, my final bit of craziness before donning the ball and chain. And since my particular ball and chain seems intent on civilizing me, surely you wouldn’t deny me this one final caper?”
    â€œWhy don’t we come up with something that won’t get us blownto pieces? And who’s to say that I won’t rub off on Violet after all? When the war ends, we’ll force her to come with us. I’ll buy a pair of hip waders and bag the monster myself—heck, I’ll buy a pair for Violet and drag her kicking and screaming into the loch with me. Won’t that be a sight?”
    Hank leaned forward and pressed two fingers against my lips.
    â€œShhh,” he said. “We have to do this. It’s for Ellis.”
    Ellis looked suddenly up. The fire was back in his eyes. “Let’s do it. Let’s fucking do it. It fixes everything.”
    â€œWhat? What does it fix?” I asked.
    â€œEverything,” he repeated.
    I could see there was no arguing with him—at least not there, and certainly not in front of Hank.
    â€œI’ll have one of those cigarettes,” I said, bobbing my foot under the table and glaring at the rows of glittering bottles behind the bar.
    In a flash, Hank had the case open and extended. I let him hold it there for a few seconds longer than was comfortable, then grabbed one.
    Hank leaned forward, completely cool, and flicked his lighter, a sterling silver Dunhill with a clock on its side. I sucked a few times, enough to get the thing lit, then pushed my chair back and marched toward the bank of elevators, letting my heels clack noisily on the marble. I ditched the cigarette in the first available ashtray because I hated cigarettes, which both Hank and Ellis knew. Asking for one was a statement. Ellis was supposed to follow me back to our suite. Instead, he stayed in the lobby bar with Hank.
    â€”
    I paced the room, trying to persuade myself that this was a joke, that Hank was just pulling our legs, but every instinct told me otherwise. He’d worked out too many details, and if it was a prank, he wouldn’t have let it go on after he saw Ellis’s reaction—unless they were in on it together, but that seemed even less plausible. They hadn’t had a moment alone to plan.
    I just wanted everything to go back to normal, but the only way that could happen would be if we found a solution that let both the Colonel and Ellis emerge with their dignities intact. Collective amnesia would have been an option if the accusations had been limited to the drawing room, where the only witness was the canary, but they hadn’t. The Colonel had been disgraced in public.
    The part that frightened me most, that made me think Hank really had made solid plans, was his mention of Freddie. If anyone could manage such arrangements, it was Freddie Stillman, whose father was an admiral, but it was beyond me why he’d lift a finger to help. The four of us had been close friends, a quartet instead of a trio, during one blissful summer in Bar Harbor, Maine, until I rejected his completely unexpected proposal, and probably not as sensitively as I should have. Ten days later, I eloped with Ellis, and we hadn’t exchanged a word since. That was four and a half years ago.
    I was surprised that Hank was still in touch with him, especially since it was rumored that Freddie had set his sights on Violet before Hank rolled through and swept her off her feet.
    â€”
    Ellis returned hours later, entirely smashed, and confirmed my fears. This was no prank, and he was absolutely determined that we were going to go.
    I pointed out, as gently as I could, what I’d hoped was obvious: that it made no sense whatsoever to throw ourselves into the middle of an ocean crawling with U-boats on a quest to find a monster that probably didn’t even exist, especially as a way of proving his worth to people who were too