Page 47 of What You Never Knew

“You have guys?”

“Yes, I have guys,” he says, with a deep chuckle that moves my insides. “Just three who I bring on for the bigger jobs.” He gets up from the table, so I do too. “Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

“I’ll be fine. It takes more than some dead birds to scare me away. I’ll just spend the day thinking up my revenge for Leslie Swann.”

Ezra laughs and shakes his head. “Come on, June, you can’t be sure it was Leslie unless you caught her in the act.”

I give Ezra a quick synopsis of what happened yesterday when Leslie came over. “So you see? She’s the only one with a motive.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I wouldn’t say the only one.”

“What? There are other people you could see putting dead birds all over my verandah? Seriously?”

He runs a hand through his hair and looks as though he regrets making the comment. “It’s just …” He pauses, trying to find the right words. “Your dad’s disappearance and my dad being accused of having something to do with it caused a lot of conflict around here, and division. Local people, especially the ones who knew my dad well, saw it as a class thing. Rich cottagers relying on locals and then turning on them. The police were criticized for bringing my dad in, but then cottagers complained not enough was being done to solve the mystery of your dad’s disappearance. Tensions ran high after you guys left. Locals even turned on each other. The ones who thought my dad was guilty and that he’d caused bad press for the community, and then the ones who thought he was innocent and resented that not everyone backed him up.”

I have to give my head a shake. “It’s still amazing to me—confounding, actually—that all of this was going on and we had no idea.”

Ezra frowns. “Your mom knew. She knew about it all.”

“The entire extent of it?”

He’s quick to nod. “I’m sorry to say, June, but she did things that made it worse.”

I take a deep breath, not sure I’m ready to hear it but not sure I have much choice either. “What kind of things?”

“Do you remember how your parents donated a bunch of money to fix the roof of the local church? The one that held a Sunday service just for cottagers?”

“I don’t really remember the donating-money part. My parents were always donating money to things; I never really paid attention. I do remember my mother dragging us there on Sundays.”

“Well, in return for donating the money, they dedicated an entire pew to your family with a plaque on it. After everything happened, some people demanded to have the pew removed and get rid of all recognition of your family’s contribution. Your mother heard about it, and she said if they did that, then the church would have to pay back the entire donation. She threatened them with lawyers, and so the minister of the church felt he didn’t have much choice but to leave it there. And then he was transferred to a different church. There was also the investigating officer of your dad’s disappearance. When they didn’t arrest West for it, your mother tried to get him fired.”

I bring both hands to my head and give my temples a massage. I can feel a massive headache coming on. “Okay,” I say. “I get it. My family is not popular in these parts. I wish I’d known that before coming.”

His phone buzzes, and his attention goes right to it. “It’s all in the past, though, and people know you’re not your mother,” he says distractedly. He takes a few seconds to type something into his phone, then gives me his focus again. “It probably was Leslie who put those birds there, but let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. It does seem right up her alley, but if you go on some revenge mission, she’ll have you arrested; I guarantee it. She’s practically best friends with the police chief’s wife.” His phone buzzes yet again, and he outwardly winces. “I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to go. Things are falling apart over there.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Go. We’ll talk later.”

He reaches out and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you want me to come back as soon as I’m done working?”

I lean up to kiss him as an answer, and he returns it. There’s a tenderness to it, our movements slow, our lips soft, our tongues tentative—the physical equivalent of an apology from both of us.

I walk him to the front door, and when he pulls it open, the lingering stench of dead birds wafts into the cottage. I put a hand over my mouth. “I’d better take care of that right away.” He shoots me a look of sympathy and then slides through the door, shutting it fast behind him.

What I want to do as soon as Ezra leaves is start scavenging the island for dead animals to leave on Leslie Swann’s cottage porch, but I think it’s best to heed Ezra’s warning about her having me arrested. I also can’t help but wonder, after everything Ezra just told me, if there might be somebody else who was motivated to defile the front verandah with dead birds. After learning all that I have about my mother since coming back to Avril Island, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a lineup of enemies waiting for the chance to get their revenge.

I decide to call the police. They take down an account of the event and all my information and explain that they can’t really do anything until they speak to animal control. They promise to get back to me once they know the cause of death. The officer I speak to sounds only mildly interested in what I’m saying, and I have to correct him twice when he calls me Jane instead of June. I get off the phone feeling frustrated and annoyed.

In an attempt to take my mind off the birds and Leslie and the phone call to the police, I call my girls and gratefully listen to them ramble on about every little detail of their innocent lives. It’s a good conversation, but it empties me out with longing for them. Makes me feel hollow and scraped out on the inside. You don’t know before having children how much they fill you up, become the matter under your skin that makes you feel like a whole person.

After we hang up, I flood the verandah with hot soapy water, hoping it gets rid of the smell, then finally head out for my run. Instead of it clearing my head as it normally does, I feel myself getting angrier about the dead birds. About someone trespassing on my island to do something like that—the violation, the malice behind it. All I wanted was to come back here for some peace and quiet, time to grieve my sister. Instead I’m left to suffer from the mess my mother made and deal with outdated bids for revenge.

I stop at the opening of the path into the clearing, deciding to go check on the tree, hoping to catch someone there who I can unleash my fury on. When I arrive at the tree, that fury is quickly extinguished by the chill that runs through me. It’s not the same as before; it’s even bigger this time, the branches thicker, more string used to hold it all together. A new cross leaning up against the tree, one that would be impossible for me to break in two.

I slowly back away from the tree, not even daring to touch it. The new, bigger cross feels like a very clear message—whoever put it there doesn’t care that this is my island; they are not going to back down. Somebody wants me off this island. I just have to find out who and why, because I’m not going anywhere.

I’ve told Ezra that I have to mail a letter and suggested that we meet at the Bridgeside Tavern, the only bar in town. I head there an hour before our scheduled meeting time. I want to sit at the bar on my own for a little while, see if I can attract some locals over and get them talking. I have a feeling that Ezra is careful with what he tells me, worried that he’ll upset me. But I need to know the uncensored truth. I need to know how many people in this town have it out for my family and why.

Summer is in full swing at the lake now. A steady stream of cars rolls down the main road, and cottagers weave their way along the sidewalk, ducking in and out of the shops. The beach is crowded with families—kids in their bathing suits, skin already tanned deep by the sun, running around screaming, kicking sand up and then splashing into the water. Teenagers strut around, reveling in the opportunity to show off newly developed bits of their bodies—muscles they didn’t have last year, breasts that now amply fill bikini tops.