Read an Excerpt
Chapter One
Man on the Boat
I used to like to watch the ferryboat come in to the island.
I'd ride my bike up to the meadow by the old Bayview Hotel. From there you could see the ocean spread out, and if you timed it right, there'd be a white dot moving along. As it got nearer, you could see the cars jammed together and, on the decks above, the sightseers in their bright summer clothes.
Then I'd jump on my bike and race down through the meadow to the town, and get to the landing just as the ferry came scraping into the slip, the pilings groaning and screeching. Then the cars and the people would flood off the boat, and it was like a party-people yelling and waving and greeting one another, laughing, hugging, kissing. It made me feel good just to be there.
But that was before my father told me to watch every boat-the ten o'clock, the two o'clock, the six o'clock--to notice every single person getting off, and never to look away, even for a second.
And in my hand there was always a quarter, always, just in case, so that if I saw the man--the crazy man--I could run to the pay phone and call my father.
The Bones in the Cliff. Copyright © by James Stevenson. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.