“This was a good plan.” The man had silver hair and he was talking to his only companion at the moment, a beautiful Irish setter. She was showing a bit of white on her muzzle now, but she was still frisky as a puppy, although at the moment, she was spread out on the deck, dozing.
She let out a low bark and he nodded. “Just the two of us and the water. Nothing better than that. The man leaned back in his chair. The small boat was big enough for them with a couple of bunks and a galley below decks. He thought about taking a nap, the sun was making him sleepy, but he just savored the peace and quiet.
Until he heard voices and the sounds of vehicle doors slamming. “Guess someone had the same idea, eh, Molly?” He shifted gears and motored a few feet down.
He’d been a cop for years and rarely took vacations, but he’d felt a strong urge to come to the Connecticut River, maybe do some fishing, though he’d yet to get his rod and reel, he had been just savoring the quiet. Molly gave a growl and Patrick Hayes looked down at her. “What is it, girl?” he asked, the faintest Irish lilt to his voice.
She got to her feet. He’d worried she wouldn’t be steady on a boat, but she got her ‘sea legs’ in seconds of getting on board. “Molly?” He could see a ridge down her back now, something had set off her attack mode. She was a good, faithful dog and he trusted her implicitly.
She started barking, loud sharp warning barks, that had the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Molly, what is it?” he asked again.
The last time she’d done that, they’d been enjoying a peaceful cold night in December at Breakheart Reservation several years ago. He flashed to a young boy half-frozen in the park, blood on his temple where’d he hit his head on a bench.
Molly had insisted on going despite the freezing conditions and Paddy swallowed hard. He turned the boat around but didn’t see anyone or hear voices anymore. He could see ripples radiating from the shore like someone had thrown something in, but the ripples were huge, so it couldn’t have been a small rock.
Molly jumped off the deck and into the water before he could stop her. “Molly Maguire, you crazy dog, get back here.”
The dog looked up at him from the water and barked. It sounded desperate now and he felt the stirrings of panic. He stripped off his shoes and jacket and dived in. The dog swam down with him and he saw two large boxes plummeting to the river bed.
He could see big packing labels, but the ink was melting off due to the water. He swam down to cut open one box and saw nothing but bubble wrap, it didn’t make sense. The water was murky this far down and he needed air. He reached in and pulled at the bubble wrap and ended up pulling off a shoe.
It was an athletic shoe, well worn. He reached in and pulled harder, bubble wrap and something else came out, the bubble wrap slipped off and he saw a boy, eyes closed, and Paddy would have gasped if he could. Molly got under the boy and shoved him to the surface.
Paddy was out of oxygen, but he pushed further to the other box. He sliced it open and grabbed the bubble wrap and pulled. Another boy came free of the box and Paddy pushed him to the surface. They popped out of the water and he saw Molly keeping hold of the first boy’s shirt to keep him from going under.
Paddy tugged the second boy around to the back of the boat. There was a ledge for getting back on and he pushed the second boy onto it. Then he motioned to Molly, she nudged her boy to him. It took some work and he was exhausted when he finally got back on the boat, exhausted and freezing, the river was still cold.
He knew he couldn’t do CPR on both of them at the same time and feared it was already too late.
“What is all the ruckus?”
