Girls of Summer(70)
Her father’s house.
It was empty and quiet when she entered. Quickly she put together two duffel bags of necessities—clothes, toiletries, books, her laptop. She’d come back later when she’d figured out what else she needed.
She carried it all to her car—that car with its empty backseat—and drove to Ryder’s family house and garage. They were on Hulbert Avenue, the long street that stretched right along Nantucket Harbor to the Coast Guard station and Brant Point lighthouse. She couldn’t believe her luck. No cars were in the drive, but she parked her car on the street, not wanting to take someone else’s place, and lugged her duffels to the garage door on the side of the house that opened to stairs leading up to the second floor.
It was amazing.
At the ocean side, sliding glass doors led to a small balcony with a small round table and two chairs. Just inside was the living room, with a sofa and two chairs placed to face the water. A low table between them held glossy books about the island.
The color scheme was pale gray, pale ivory, pale tan, merging with the world outside. The back half of the space was divided into a bedroom with a double bed and a long closet holding a clothing rack and shelves, a bath with a shower, and a galley kitchen. A small glass dining table stood between the living room and kitchen. Everything was simple and uncluttered. Beth sort of hated to clutter it with her bulging duffel bags.
Walking to the sliding glass doors, she opened them and stepped out on the narrow balcony. A short lawn led to a tumble of pebbles and then to a small private beach, and then to the harbor. It was a sweeping, breathtaking view. And for a while, it was her view.
Her cell rang.
“Where are you?” Ryder asked, his voice loud with excitement.
“Oh, I’m at your garage—”
“I’ll pick you up. They’ve found a great white shark dead on Madaket Beach.”
Before she could respond, Ryder cut off. She hurried down the steps and out to the driveway. In only seconds, Ryder was there.
Beth hopped in to the passenger seat. “Are you sure it’s a great white?”
“They’re unmistakable,” Ryder said.
“What killed it?”
“We don’t know yet. The great white’s only enemy is humans. Maybe it was shot.”
It didn’t take long to get to Madaket Road, but once there, the narrow two-way road was packed bumper to bumper with cars. Ryder concentrated on driving, past the old pump, past the entrance to Sanford Farm and its walking paths, past the Eel Point turnoff leading to the 40th Pole Beach, past the dump, past the 1st Bridge off the Madaket Road where kids lay on the dock to catch crabs, past the sign for Madaket Marine.
Ryder groaned when he saw the line of cars U-turning and looking for parking spots. He found a place on a dirt road, parked, jumped out, and hurried toward the beach. Beth followed. At the far western tip of the island, this beach had the strongest waves and the worst undertow, but its long gleaming stretch of sand was unsurpassed in beauty. If you climbed the dune, you could see Madaket Harbor with its calmer waters and docks. The lure for most people was the brilliant sunsets, but swimming on the Atlantic side was also popular for everyone, especially strong swimmers.
And now a shark had washed up on the western shore, where families were swimming every day. This was a major event.
Beth saw photographers and journalists heading out to the site, among a crowd of people she recognized as conservationists and people she didn’t know but guessed from their apparel were tourists: a father with a small child riding on his shoulders, a group of giggling girls, the town’s local eccentric, covered with tattoos.
“Beth! Wait up!”
Beth looked over her shoulder. Alice Cameron, the head of the chamber of commerce, was striding toward her. Her salt and pepper hair, normally coiled into a neat bun on the top of her head, had come loose and flew around her face like loose strings.
“Isn’t this terrible?” Alice cried when she reached Beth.
“It is,” Beth agreed. “The poor shark—”
“The poor shark? Are you kidding me?” Alice’s voice rose several octaves. “Do you understand what this means for tourism? A shark on a Nantucket beach? People will stop coming, our hotels and B&Bs will be empty, the restaurants will have no customers, and think of all the shopkeepers! The island will become a ghost town!”
“Alice, I don’t think that will happen. I mean, the shark is dead. Maybe the currents brought it here from way out in the ocean.”
“Oh, thank heavens, you are brilliant, yes, that’s probably the reason it’s here.” Alice patted her chest to calm herself.
They finally reached the shore where the creature lay, at least fifteen feet long, showing its white underbelly. Its terrifying long mouth was open, exposing rows of triangular sharply serrated teeth.
Already a crowd had formed and Beth saw that the lifeguard and Ryder had drawn a circle in the sand around the shark and were standing sentry.
“Stand back!” Ryder yelled at the mass of people. “Scientists are on their way.”
“You don’t even live here!” a man shouted at Ryder.
The ring of watchers protested, pushing and shoving and cursing. They were an odd group, some dressed for swimming, some dressed for work, all of them enthralled to be so near this notorious creature.