1. A Small Island

Missing Julian (1 or 10)

Jan 19, 2026

0:00

-9:39

(Maria came back to find Julian, among other reasons. Many people are looking for Julian. Every man makes a presence, and their absence leaves a hole. This is the second to last section of Milestone.)

“How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.”

“Maria?”

Rick considered the realtor, Brian Swain.

The realtor, complete in a blazer and loafers, had driven out to the site in Quaise in his “Swain” Tahoe. Rick had not had much to do with the young man. He had done work for the old man and had learned the hard way to get it in paper, ahead of time, and in cash. They said the son was better.

He had also seen some shit.

“It’s tough.”

“It must be. Whatever we can do.”

“Sure.”

Rick smiled at the man.

“I am wondering if we can do some business.”

“I’m pretty busy.”

“This shouldn’t take a lot of your time. It’s not like this.”

The old Palmer place, in Quaise, was getting raised up, blown out, and reimagined. At the end of the labor, there would be a roofline left, some windows, and the odd shingle. When he was sure that the Brazilians could work on this, he bid on it and got it.

“Well, what do you need?”

“Big Jim bought a few houses from old friends and just let them sit. He bought a house out on Wood Hollow Road. I have a client interested in buying the house, but not in the shape it is right now.”

“What does it need?”

“Most of the work is done. I just left it. The previous crew just left, but the work is solid. It needs finish work on the inside, painting, some other stuff. I need it to look spiffy for the buyers. They are coming in two weeks and they are eager.” He held the carpenter’s eyes. ”Three million.”

Rick looked at the realtor and tried to listen to all the words he wasn’t saying.

“Who had been doing the work?”

“Well, Bill Trotter and my brother, Stephen.”

Stephen had been killed by his wife.

Rick sighed.

“The work is sound. Nothing needs to be redone. Stephen was a good worker. Without Stephen…the crew left. Bill has been working with some guys, but….”

Rick looked at the other man. He exhaled.

“We could probably do a week there.”

“This crew?”

“This house is weather-tight right now. Yeah, we could do it. But, I love this crew. We will need money ahead of time. And no bullshit from Trotter.”

“See the place, make me an invoice, and I will handwrite the check.”

Rick shook the realtor’s hand.

The handshake lasted a second too long. Brian pulled him in.

“Seriously, anything I can do, or Pidge or the shop. Anything we can do.”

“Good to know.”

“Anything.”

“I know. We are working on the next steps right now.”

Brian nodded.

Martha was going to pour a buttery chardonnay and put her feet up. She could see the sofa, the TV, and the dog. She envisioned it. The wine glass was right there.

She had an office that cost far too much to rent, considering that it overlooked the Stop and Shop parking lot and was over a pet shop. The girl sat on the steps outside, waiting for her friend to come and pick her up. Martha had let her out a few minutes early, which was a relief to her and a possible torture for the girl.

Martha had come to the island from Stockbridge. Out there, her office overlooked a garden and a grove of maples—a sugar bush. She was a member of a not particularly well-paid team, but a group that brought a lot of tools to bear. Austin Riggs was not cheap and it catered to the well-heeled, but you could always do something. By the time the patient had come in the doors, she or he was smack dab in the middle of a full-blown crisis. So, she would arrive shortly after the firefighters and before the lunch menu. And her work would begin.

But here, with the dream catchers in the window and crystal over her desk, she sat alone on a very well-paid island. They could talk. She could recommend some drugs. She would share some procedures and some strategies. She might even get the patient to confront some lies that she lugged about. But when she came in on fire, she couldn’t do much. She couldn’t wink at the orderlies or hit the silent alarm or help her to realize that the drugs, the restraints, and the wheelchair were for the best. Trust the team.

Martha had no team on this island.

She would tell Rosie that the girl needed to go off-island. Maybe not Austin Riggs, but someplace with locked doors, well-read novels, and surveillance cameras.

Afterwards.

Afterwards, Martha might have something to do to help.

Not now.

She would tell Rosie that the girl needed to go off-island. Maybe not Austin Riggs, but someplace with locked doors, well-read novels, and surveillance cameras.

Afterwards.

Afterwards, Martha might have something to do to help.

Not now.

Stubbys

Elaine waited for her friend.

She had walked out of school, again. Her mother approved. With the chaos around Maria, it seemed to be the right thing to do. It could have been her. All too easily.

Besides, it was lunchtime. She missed fifth period physical ed, but could return for sixth period math, if she had to.

The door opened and Maria stepped down the stairs. She was wearing a sweatshirt, jeans, and boots.

Elaine waved.

Maria smiled and walked to her. She opened the door, dropped into the seat, and let the air out.

“How did it go?”

Maria looked to her friend. She didn’t want to talk, but that is what was expected.

“A lot of nothing.”

“Oh.”

“A lot of questions about Mom, about Dad, about James. Then she was silent and waited for me.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t want to talk to her, so I didn’t.”

Maria sighed.

“Okay.” Elaine put the car in gear.

“I can’t go home.”

“Where do you want to go?”

Maria looked at her friend. Elaine focussed on getting out of the lot.

“Let’s go to Stubby’s. I am buying.”

“Did you miss it?”

“No.”

Elaine knew why she wanted to go there. She hoped she got what she wished.

In the overcast of a late September lunchtime, the traffic moved, and the line remained outside the restaurant.

Elaine lived parked several spots down the street.

A green pickup truck was parked across the street.

Maria opened the door without asking Elaine what she wanted.

A tall Hispanic man came up behind her and held her, not firmly, by the bicep.

“Would you come with me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he walked her over to the truck. Elaine froze, but she wasn’t afraid. She hoped Maria knew who was in the car.

A white man unrolled the window. Behind him, three men sat in a row. A heavier man sat in the passenger seat. She saw that he had a tattoo on his left hand. Dad.

“Maria, I am sorry to surprise you like this. We hope you can answer a question, and then you can get lunch.” The white man said.

She recognized almost all of the men from the Meadowbrook worksite.

Too much had happened for her to panic. Too much hope filled her lungs.

She nodded.

“Where is Julian?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you take him off the island?”

“No.”

The man in the passenger seat smiled at her.

The driver turned to him, and then back to the girl.

“We aren’t mad at him. We are just concerned. If he is staying with you, or you have a hotel room or an apartment, that is okay.”

“I don’t know where he is.”