Deep is the Chesapeake (e-book) (used book) | M G Lewis | bookbook.eu

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Jukie, who would never see her seventies again, glared at Petey, who was loitering in his late teens. He subsided. She said, "Two weeks ago, while Petey and Mr. Griffin were working on the island, Mr. and Mrs. Knauff had an argument...."

Petey said, "It was a fight. He was drunk like he usually is, and he said awful things to her, and I can't figure why she's with him to begin with."

Jukie said, "No blows were exchanged, and Mr. Knauff went into his house presumably to sleep off his intoxication while his wife proceeded to sun bathe. This was July 1st, a Saturday."

Petey got to his feet and paced in the small room. "Well, it's her island, and if she wants to get some sun, there's nothing wrong with it. And Steve brought me and Griff back to Crisfield, and nobody has seen Erin since then."

Petey leaned over his chair and got in his face. He was too close, but he smelled good. "That bastard did something to her, Mr. Bergeron! I know he did, and somebody has to do something! It's not right!"

"I see. Who is Steve? And nobody has been to this island to check on her?"

Jukie said, "Steve Bell; once a waterman. Hired by Mrs. Knauff as a sort of caretaker and handyman. He stays on the island in an old shack which was there when the property was purchased."

Petey said, "I went to the island. Once with Griff to finish up the job, and again a week ago. Steve told me she'd gone home and to get off the island, that I was trespassing..."

Jukie said, "Which you were, Petey."

"Shit on that! Erin is missing! And nobody is even trying to find her!"

Jukie was sort of a friend, and all she wanted him to do was go to Erin Knauff's home in Philadelphia and knock. If she came to the door, then Erin wasn't dead even a little bit. And ergo, she was not at the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay as some people thought. Even a bookkeeper could handle that. Right?

But the lovely, smiling Erin didn't answer his knock. Well, she was lovely and smiling in the photos he had. And tanned, very tanned and oiled and skimpily clad.

Things really started to spin out of control when he couldn't find anyone who had seen her since she'd been vacationing on Swan Island, a marshy speck in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay.

Of course, her husband said she was fine.