Keeper's Reach Read Online Free PDF

that.” Another long pause, more paper shuffling. “Here we go. Buddy Whidmore, Ted Kavanagh and Naomi MacBride. Mr. Mason says he expects them to be at the Plum Tree in addition to Reed Cooper.”
    Mike absorbed the silence of his isolated stretch of the Atlantic coast. The snow blanketing the evergreens that dominated the woods on three sides of his cabin muffled any sounds. He could hear, faintly, the wash of the incoming tide. Sixty years ago, his grandfather, his mother’s father, a Rock Point harbormaster, had built the cabin as a getaway. He had never lived up here full-time. Mike had since leaving the army.
    “Mike? Are you still there?”
    “Still here.”
    “Who are these people?”
    “I knew them when I was in the army.”
    “Were any of them with the Special Forces?” his mother asked.
    “Reed and Jamie. Kavanagh was with the FBI. At least he was then. I don’t know if he’s retired or quit.”
    “Does Colin know him?”
    “I’ve never mentioned Kavanagh to Colin. No reason to.”
    A moment’s silence. “What about the other two?” his mother asked finally.
    Mike set his paring knife in the scratched stainless-steel sink, but he was seeing Naomi’s smile. “Civilian.” He tried to keep any tension out of his voice. “Buddy’s a tech guy. Naomi was with the State Department.”
    “A diplomat?”
    “I guess you could say that.”
    “I don’t understand why they would come to Maine in February. The Plum Tree must have given them a good deal or something.”
    “If I knew what was going on, I’d tell you.”
    She didn’t respond at once. He wasn’t sure how well she could hear him, but he figured she wasn’t going to gripe about the lousy connection. It was better than nothing. She had been after him for months to get a cell phone rather than to rely on the landline at the general store.
    “I hope these people aren’t a problem for you,” she said.
    “They’re not. I’m glad you called. What are you and Pop up to this weekend?”
    “Emma is heading up here tomorrow afternoon. She’s staying at the convent for two nights, and I’m taking her to lunch on Saturday. She’ll be on her own. I’m looking forward to spending some time with her. I’ve never had a daughter, and Emma will be my first daughter-in-law.”
    Mike smiled, despite his tension. His mother’s tone said “it’s about time” even if she would never utter those words out loud. He doubted she’d ever imagined one of her sons marrying a woman like Emma Sharpe. An FBI agent, maybe. But an FBI agent who was also a member of a family of renowned art detectives? An ex-nun? Mike, the eldest, had put aside his own doubts about Emma in the months since Colin, the second-born Donovan, had met her, fallen for her and asked her to marry him.
    “Mike...” His mother hesitated. “This Reed Cooper...”
    “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Have a good time with Emma.”
    When she disconnected, Mike could tell she wasn’t satisfied. She might not be able to put her finger on exactly why, but she had well-honed instincts after all this time. Her four sons had been in plenty of jams—and she was well aware she didn’t know about all of them and there were likely more to come. Mike was ex-army living out on the Bold Coast as a wilderness guide and outfitter. Colin was an FBI agent based in Boston. Andy was a lobsterman. Kevin was a Maine state marine patrol officer.
    Frank Donovan, their father, would just tell his wife, “The boys know what they’re doing.”
    Sometimes it was true. Not always.
    Mike stepped outside onto the porch. He had his grandfather’s old wooden canoe turned over on a rack. It needed work. Winter was a good time to fix things that the busy warm-weather months didn’t allow time for. He had the occasional backcountry skier or snowshoe group request his skills as a wilderness guide and outfitter, but not many people were interested in a trek along the icebound cliffs of the Bold Coast in the dead