One Smooth Stone. Marcia Lee Laycock

dark haired, a bit stocky, gray eyes. But his mother...he’d never been able to picture his mother. He had only a vague memory of her voice and long soft hair. Black hair, like his. Or was that the woman who had adopted him? Alex couldn’t really be sure.

      It was well past dark when he got back to the hotel. There was a note for him at the desk:

      Alex,

      Babysitting’s over. I’ve gone home for the night. Will call in the morning.

      George.

      He tossed the note into a garbage can as he headed for the bar. He ordered a steak, chased it with a beer, and followed that one with several more. The familiar numbness was well entrenched by the time he made his way back to his room and fell into a restless sleep.

      Chapter Five

      Ruby stood with her hands on her huge hips. Her face, like an overblown candy-pink balloon, slowly descended to his. The boy tried to back away, but took only one step before he felt the cold chrome of the kitchen table behind him. She arched her painted eyebrows and pulled her red lips over yellow teeth in a sneer.

      “You’ve been rooting in the trash again, haven’t you?”

      The stench of her breath made him want to gag. Shaking his head slowly he tried to pull his eyes away from hers. He barely saw the flash of her hand as it smashed across his face.

      “I know what was in there, you little pig. I know what you took. Maybe you’d like some more, huh? Maybe we should see what else is in there that you can stuff down your ungrateful throat!”

      He cried out as she grabbed him and flipped the lid of the garbage can open. The stench rose into his nostrils. He saw something move—a slithering motion. Two small red eyes swirled in the blackness. His stomach erupted as she forced his head into the can. He was afraid to scream, afraid to open his mouth for fear the creature would leap at him, but he couldn’t stop the spew that came out. Ruby held him there until he was dry heaving, then pulled him up, whacked him again, and pushed him toward the stairs to the cellar.

      “Get down there. Out of my sight!” she screamed. “Bill will deal with you later.”

      Then a strange noise intruded. A sound he didn’t remember from the other times, a shrieking sound.

      Alex woke with a jerk, sending the screaming phone flying from the bedside table. He threw the covers back and scrambled for it, but only a dial tone buzzed in his ear. He replaced it and strode to the window, pulling the drapes back with a jerk. He winced and turned his head away as the morning light flooded the room.

      The phone rang again. And rang and rang. Alex stared at it for a full two minutes before answering. Kenni’s voice sounded hesitant.

      “I hope I didn’t…um…sorry to wake you.”

      “I’m up,” he said, trying to slow his breathing.

      “Well, I…I mean we….” Alex frowned as she stuttered. Then her next sentence came out in a rush.

      “I thought you’d be pretty bored sitting in that hotel room so uh…would you like to get out for a bit?”

      “Sure.” He heard the word come out of his mouth, but wondered why he’d said it. She told him George would pick him up. When he hung up he stared at the receiver for a few minutes. Then he went into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water.

      * * *

      Kenni stared at her cell phone and groaned. Kendra Adams, what are you doing? She didn’t try to answer herself as she dialed George’s cell. When she asked him to pick Alex up his reaction was about what she’d expected.

      “A little unprofessional, isn’t it?”

      “I know but.…”

      “Let me guess. You feel sorry for him.”

      “Well, how would you feel, being in a strange city under these circumstances?”

      George sighed. She waited for another lecture about always picking up strays, but all he said was “Alright. I’ll pick him up.”

      * * *

      Alex’s heart was still racing when the phone rang again.

      “Hi.” George’s voice sounded far away. “Kenni tells me you’re joining us.”

      “I guess. Time for some Seattle hospitality.”

      “Don’t expect it to be the kind you’re used to.” Before Alex had time to comment George asked, “Had breakfast yet?”

      “No.”

      “Well, get yourself something fast. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

      “Where we going?”

      “You’ll see. Be ready in forty-five. Oh, and bring what you need for overnight.”

      Alex hesitated. “Maybe I don’t want to go.”

      George sighed. “Nobody’s holding a gun to your head.” Alex tensed in the silence. George’s voice seemed more contrite when he broke it. “It’ll beat hanging out in the hotel.”

      “I’ll meet you out front,” Alex said.

      “Forty-five minutes.”

      Alex wasn’t surprised to see the lawyer pull up in a shiny black convertible. He slid into the leather seat and looked around him.

      “Nice. This yours?”

      “Yup. One of my concessions to decadence. I love this car.”

      The vehicle lunged forward as George told him to buckle up. Alex pulled the seatbelt across his chest and tried to relax. The haze of the day before had cleared and the morning was bright, the air smelling more and more of the sea as they sped toward the harbor.

      “Ever been sailing?” George asked.

      Alex shook his head. “Never.” For some reason he didn’t like the way George grinned.

      The convertible glided through a gate and stopped near a large sign—Shilshole Bay Marina, The Premier Sailing Center of the Northwest. George parked and locked the car. As they made their way Alex scanned the boats. They were lined up at ninety degrees to the docks, sailboats of all sizes, pleasure yachts and even a few houseboats. They’d be easy pickings for someone who knew what was worth taking. Someone like me. All of them gleamed in the sun as seagulls wheeled above, their raucous cries punctuating their frenzied search for food.

      He followed George onto the dock. As the ramp bobbed in the water two people at the far end turned and waved. Alex’s heart rate quickened as Kenni stepped forward to greet them.

      “Ready for a day on the sound?” she asked.

      “I am,” George replied, “but Alex here has never been out.” He turned to him with a grin. “We’ll have to take it easy on him.”

      Alex wondered how George would look dripping with the oil-slicked water that lapped below them. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

      Kenni smiled. “It’s fairly calm today. I’m sure you’ll love it, Alex.”

      He scanned the sleek sailboat bobbing gently at the dock, noticing “The Angel” written in large flowing letters on its side. “Whose boat?”

      “Mine.” The gray-haired man standing behind her took a step forward. He was dressed in navy and white, looking like he’d just stepped out of a sailing magazine. Alex was once again conscious of his T-shirt, jeans and shaggy hair.

      “Alex, this is Drew Adams, my father.” She slipped under the man’s arm. “This is Alex Donnelly, Dad.”

      The man’s handshake was firm, his blue eyes more startling than his daughter’s. “Good to meet you, Alex. Kenni has told me a lot about you.”

      “Oh?”