Fox Island by Stephen Bly Read Free Book Online

side.
There’s no reason for you to give them the lion’s share of this
deal. If you got just two hours, I can show you how you can spend
next summer in your own house in Malibu. Comprende? Are you listening, Tony?”
    “And you need a ride from the bridge?”
    “Right. I’ll be waiting here at
Verne’s.”
    “I don’t remember a garage on the Island.
Just where is this Verne’s?”
    “Stone Drive exit right as you come down off
the bridge.”
    “Exit? What bridge are you talking
about?”
    “Hey, Verne, what’s that bridge called? Oh
yeah, it’s the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.”
    “The Narrows Bridge?” Tony groaned. “I
thought you meant the bridge to Fox Island.”
    “Thanks, partner. I’ll treat you to a cup of
mocha supreme. How long before you’ll be here?”
    Tony looked at his watch. “At least an hour.
Maybe two.”
    “What?”
    “I’m in the middle of a benefit,
remember?”
    “Oh yeah, right, one hour it is.”
    “Or longer. I’ll send my research assistant.
She’ll pick you up.”
    “That’s cool. But, Tony, I wouldn’t tell her
what’s happening here. I wouldn’t want this to leak out to the
media. Not yet any-way. You know what I mean?”
    “Sure. No problem. Miss Mason will be
driving a big Olds- mobile.”
    “What color?”
    “White.”
     
     
    Tony found Price surrounded by several men,
big diamond rings sparkling. All seemed to be talking at once. They
continued blustering even as she slipped away. “Who’s the guy with
the camouflage jacket and the hand- painted tie that looks like a
giant redwood?” he asked.
    “Harvey Peterson, the one who wrote the
book.”
    “The cover-up of the Japanese invasion?”
    “Yes. We do have that, don’t we?”
    “Oh yeah, it’s pretty weird.”
    “Well, I thought we did, but Harvey said if
we’d stop by his bookstore he’d give us an autographed copy.”
    “He has a bookstore on the Island?”
    “From what I could tell, it’s in his garage.
Mr. Peterson says they sell through the mail and at gun and militia
shows all over the country. So, what about the big movie deal?”
    “The only thing we agreed upon was to pick
up Davidian at the Narrows bridge.”
    “Pick him up? Is he hitchhiking?”
    When Tony explained the scenario, she
suggested, “We could always send our ‘research assistant’ in her VW
bus. I don’t think it would make it back over that bridge
again.”
    “Wouldn’t help. He’s on this side. He’s only
going to be here an hour, an hour and a half tops. Then we’ll have
Melody take him back to good old Verne’s. At least I’ll get him out
of our hair.”
     
     
    They left the party a little past 2:30 P.M.
Soon after their arrival at the Davenport house, Melody backed the
big Olds out of the tiny garage onto the narrow, steep driveway.
She rolled down the window as she braked short of the rosebushes.
“Thanks, Mr. S., for not getting mad about the research assistant
thing. Seemed like the right thing to say at the time.”
    “That’s all right. We appreciate your doing
this for us.”
    “I’ll hurry right back.”
    “No. Take your time and be careful.”
    They watched her chug up the steep drive and
then turn left on Third Avenue. Then they sauntered to the deck,
arm and arm. “Do you feel like a writer today, Mr.
Shadowbrook?”
    “Yeah, like a frustrated writer with no time
to write. I’ll be glad when things settle down and we can get some
serious days’ work in. Remember when we used to think that all a
writer had to do was write?”
    “This summer will be different. The girls
are at home. We’ve got a beautiful view of the Sound. I look
forward to good days on the book and long sunset walks hand in hand
along the shoreline. Do I need to fix dinner for this Davidian
guy?”
    “Absolutely not. Tell you what. We’ll sit
here on the deck. After an hour if I get to pulling on my right
ear, you get up and come over and say, ‘Tony, don’t forget you have
another appointment in five