Fox Island Read Online Free PDF Page A

minutes.”
    Tony poured Rattlesnake Blend coffee into a
blue enamel tin cup. “You want to listen in on the extension?”
    “Nope, but thanks for the offer. I’ll be
tied up going through old newspapers. I read the strange book on
the Jessica Davenport paintings, about famous pieces of original
art hanging on the walls all around you. Of the dozen samples they
mentioned, ten are here and two at the museum.”
    “Anything we can use?”
    “You mean, besides the fact the great
prisoner escape of 1952 happened on Anderson Island instead of Fox
Island?”
    “I still can’t believe that.”
    “We made the mistake of going by the
newspaper account. The story broke during the night. Seattle papers
got word the standoff happened on Fox Island, so that’s the way it
was printed. The news services picked it up before the retraction
appeared.”
    “But how did it get in that book we
read?”
    “The author must have read only the Seattle
paper account. We happened onto a first printing that had the
error. They say all subsequent printings changed to Anderson
Island.”
    “But that was one of the strong points of
coming to Fox Island,” Tony complained. “It provided us with an
angle, an entry, a little excitement. Now that whole scenario’s
gone.”
    “We’ll find another hook. I get the feeling
there’s something here we haven’t discovered. There’s plenty of
potential.”
    “I think I like writing fiction better than
nonfiction. Did I ever tell you that?”
    “In the last ten days?”
    Tony banged several cupboards and drawers.
“Where’s the foil?”
    “Above the refrig.” Price pulled half a
bagel from the toaster and smeared it with strawberry preserves.
“Hey, I did find a place called Smuggler’s Cove, but no one really
knows why the name.”
    “I could make something up.”
    Price laughed brief but hearty. “I’m
sure you could. But please, don’t. When the world-famous novelist
Anthony Shadowbrook gets through with Fox
Island, the place will sound as intriguing as,
say, Fall River Mills. Every
summer it’s the same thing. We wonder if we’ll ever find enough
fascinating data for a book. Somehow we manage. ‘Man’s part is to
trust, and God’s part is to work.’”
    “That’s exactly how that phrase can be
misused. We’ve got to do our work and trust God to do his
work.”
    “You fell for that bait.”
    “Are you going to flog me with that line all
summer?”
    “Maybe.” She grinned. “Now, what are you
going to wear to the luncheon?”
    “I decided on the green shirt with southwest
print. How do you think the silver Apache scarf will look with
it?”
    “Stunning, I’m sure. Did anyone ever tell
you what excellent taste in clothes you have?”
    “Never.” He kissed her forehead and turned
toward the door. “I think I have time for a shower before the radio
interview.”
    “You better not. Melody’s downstairs.
Remember? Not enough water pressure for two showers at once.”
    He threw up his hands. “Sort of like
bringing the girls along after all. Guess I’ll drag the laptop out
to the deck and clean up that section on the Indian occupation of
the Island.”
    “Take the remote phone. You can do the
interview out there. Only...”
    “Only what?”
    “Watch out for dive-bombing sea gulls.”
    Barefoot and still wearing black jogging
shorts and black t-shirt that read “Cheyenne Frontier Days,” Tony
studied the strip of McNeill Island appearing out of the distant
fog across Carr Inlet. He couldn’t believe they didn’t escape over
there. He could see it now: armed and desperate men fighting the
currents, breaking into a small cabin dripping wet ... in the dark
of night. Terrified, pajama- clad children clutching their mother’s
gown as a frightened father gropes for his now-broken glasses so he
might see his attackers and face a violent challenge to protect his
children and defend his wife’s honor.
    Why didn’t that happen on Fox Island?
    He could write a chapter