by Kathi Daley
“And now?” I asked. “Now that he’s raising his grandchildren, is he involved in their lives?”
“No. I don’t think so. Which I’m sure is why Colt plans to bring them here to live with him when they get a little older. When their parents first died, they wanted and needed to be with their grandparents. They made the kids feel safe. But as they get older and begin to take on extracurricular activities, I think they’ll appreciate what Colt can bring to the table.” Lacy frowned. “Is there any particular reason why the two of you were discussing children?”
“Colt and I have been flirting with the idea of taking our friendship to the next level. It’s Colt’s opinion that we should both know where the other stands on this sort of important topic before we take that step. We both agree our friendship is too important to risk should we not be on the same page.”
“I get that. There is a point where there really is no going back to being simply friends, and it does make sense to talk everything out before you get to that point.”
I glanced at the man we were discussing. “I don’t disagree. I just hadn’t ever taken the time to consider these big questions. At first, the loss of my husband and child was too raw and fresh to even think about such things as a new husband or additional children, but now, I suppose I am able to at least entertain the idea.”
“Do you want more children?” Lacy asked.
I slowly shook my head. “I don’t think so, but until it came up, I realized I hadn’t given the subject the attention it deserves. Colt wants me to be sure. I want to be sure. I guess I just need time to explore my options. I know I like Colt. A lot. He’s fun and interesting, and I trust him with my life. He’s a kind and thoughtful man, and we enjoy many of the same things. I can see myself being happy with him. Not that I’m anywhere near ready to think about a second marriage, but maybe someday, if the opportunity presented itself, I can see myself with someone like him.”
“Then I guess it’s important for you to take the time you need to be sure about what you need to be sure about.”
I took Lacy’s hand in mine. “Thanks. This was a good talk, and I’m glad I can come to you with these types of things. I can talk to Georgia as well, but she’s been busy with Rena.”
“What’s going on with her anyway?”
I took a sip of my wine before answering. “I spoke to Georgia before Colt and I came over. I guess Rena woke up this morning, talking about a house on Vine Street. Georgia decided to drive her there, hoping Rena might remember something, but when they got there, Rena directed her to an empty lot. Georgia did some research and found out that the house that was on the lot burned to the ground more than forty years ago. The property is still owned by the family that owned the home at the time of the fire, but a man died in the fire, and the family decided not to rebuild. Now, here is where it gets interesting, the man who died in the fire was named Michael Davenport. Rena has been talking about waiting for Michael since the first time Georgia saw her on the bluff.”
“So, do you think she is waiting for the man who died?”
I shrugged. “Perhaps. She seems confused, so maybe she doesn’t remember what happened to Michael. Of course, even if the Michael who died forty years ago, is the same man she’s waiting for, it still doesn’t explain who Rena is, where she came from, or why it seems no one is looking for her.”
“That is odd. You would think that even if she lived alone, someone—a neighbor or a family member—would realize she hadn’t been around for days.”
“You would think. And we still don’t know how she came to be on the bluff the first time Georgia saw her, or how she got to the inn when she showed up the other day. The whole thing is just so odd.”
“What does Colt say?” Lacy wondered.
“He’s been looking into missing persons cases with zero luck. At first, we thought if we let her rest up and gave her some food, she’d remember who she is and where she’s supposed to be, but she hasn’t. Colt and I discussed getting her checked out by a doctor tomorrow to make sure her memory loss isn’t due to something like a stroke.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Best to be sure, even if you are willing to let her stay with you for a few days.”
“It sounds like Maddie woke from her nap,” I said, glancing toward the house where the sound of a crying baby could be heard.
Lacy stood up. “I’m going to head in and change her. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
After Lacy left I wandered over to chat with the guys. “The ribs smell wonderful,” I said as I watched Lonnie transfer them to the warming rack to make room for the corn on the cob and asparagus.
“This is just about ready. Where’d Lacy go?”
“To get Maddie. If you need anything, I can get it.”
“I was going to have her bring the baked beans out to heat.”
“I’ll get them,” I offered. “I know the salads are ready. I’ll start setting everything out on the buffet table.”
“Thanks, Abby. It would be best to eat everything while it’s hot.”
By the time Lacy came down with the baby, the food was set out and ready for consumption. Lonnie and Lacy helped their children dish up their plates while Colt and I waited in the background. I had to admit the busy couple had a system that seemed to work. All six children were served and eating at the kiddy table within a few minutes.
After we ate, I helped Lacy with the dishes while Colt and Lonnie took the kids out to the yard to play before it was time for them to have baths and get ready for bed.
“So tell me about the journals,” I said as I put away the food. “I know you found additional volumes in one of the bedroom crawl spaces, but did you find anything juicy?”
“I only had time to read little bits and pieces, but from what I have read, it seems that Olivia was sleeping with Will, and it sounds as if their affair had been going on for quite some time. Two summers, at least. Maybe even longer. With a job and six children, it was hard to find uninterrupted time to read, but I figure once you take the journals home and read them all the way through, you can fill me in on what I missed.”
“So, are you fairly certain the journals were written by Catherine?” I asked as I grabbed a rag and started wiping down countertops.
“That would be my guess. Whoever wrote the journals seems to have intimate knowledge of everything that was going on in the summer house. I suspect that Catherine, if, in fact, she was the author, was a bit of a snoop. Not only did she know her mother’s business, but she knew Diana’s as well, who it seems, was also having a fling that summer.”
“Do you think Conway had any idea what was going on up at the house while he was back in Boston working?”
“I don’t know,” Lacy said, “but based on some of the comments I’ve read, it seems he may have had women on the side as well.”
“So maybe he knew his wife was sleeping around and didn’t care.”
“Maybe.”
“Have you seen anything that would explain how Olivia ended up at the bottom of the cliff? Did Catherine think she’d been pushed, or did she think she fell?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Lacy offered. “I didn’t get that far. I will say that Sebastian’s name begins to come up with more frequency the further you get into the journals. I tried on several occasions to make the time to really go through the entries, but life kept getting in the way.”
I smiled. “I’ll mark all the really juicy parts for you, and you can read them later.”
Lacy smiled. “Thanks. You’re a good friend.”
Chapter 13
Wednesday brought showers and heavy overcast skies. In many ways, I didn’t mind the summer rain. I knew rain was important for forest health, and without it, wildfires would rear their ugly heads, but I hoped that the rain would clear and the sun would return in time for the weekend festivities. Jeremy and Mylie had finished building the booths that would be used by the breweries during Lobsterfest, and it seemed that Georgia and Amy w
ere all over the food, so as long as nothing unforeseen occurred, we should be in good shape for Saturday.
“The wind is really howling this morning,” Georgia said as she prepared to head over to the inn.
“I heard the storm is supposed to blow through by noon, but it looks like it might get bad between now and then.” I glanced out the window at the heavy sky and angry sea. “Do we have anyone checking in today?”
“No. The rooms vacated by Austin and Jason aren’t reserved until the weekend, and, of course, David and Barbara, Mylie, and Amy are here through the weekend, so we have a couple of days to transition.”
“I was happy to hear that Austin got the job he came to Holiday Bay to apply for. Did he happen to mention when he’d be back?” I asked.
“In a couple weeks. He had to go home and pack up his stuff for the move.” Georgia picked up her phone and slipped it into her pocket. “I heard from Doctor Stevens.” Doctor Stevens was the general practitioner who we asked to take a look at Rena. “He said all the test results are back, and she is perfectly fine physically. No stroke, no sort of head injury, nothing that he could find that would be causing her confusion.”
“I guess that’s good,” I said. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do if she doesn’t start to remember where it is she belongs in the next few days.”
“Yeah,” Georgia sighed. “I have guests checking into her room a week from tomorrow, so I would say we have one week to figure it out. If we can’t, we may have to turn her over to social services. Colt told me they will take good care of her and make sure she has a place to stay, but somehow letting her go before we find our answers feels wrong.”
“I agree,” I said. “We’ll work with her this week. Maybe we can think of a way to jog her memory.”
Georgia pulled on a waterproof slicker. “She was sitting in the garden yesterday, watching Jeremy and Mylie work. I decided to take Ramos for a walk down the garden path leading out to the bluff, and when I came back, Rena had moved down the path to that bench near the birdbath. When I approached, I heard her talking. I paused to listen and realized she was having an entire conversation with someone. The problem was that there wasn’t anyone with her.”
“Do you know who she was talking to?”
“No,” Georgia answered. “She didn’t say. She did mention a party of some sort and how Michael was going to help her sneak whomever she was talking to in so that they could be together.”
“Wait. A party? I remember something about a party. Hang on.” I ran into my bedroom and returned with one of the journals I’d been reading. I opened it to the middle. “Here, in Catherine’s journal, it says: ‘Mother will have a fit if she finds out what I have planned, but Michael assures me that as long as I follow his plan, everything will work out exactly as we’ve discussed. Michael has been a good friend who I trust implicitly. I also know, more than most, he understands the magic of a single night, which must contain within it, an epic love to last for all eternity.’”
“So, what are you saying?” Georgia asked. “Is Rena somehow connected with Catherine Chadwick?”
I looked up from the journal. “I don’t know, but the fact that Catherine wrote in her journal about someone named Michael helping her with a plan and then you overheard Rena talking to someone about Michael helping her to spend time with someone, it seems likely.”
“The man who died in the fire on Vine Street was named Michael. He died in nineteen eighty, and Catherine would have written about the dance around nineteen fifty, but I do have to wonder if perhaps we aren’t talking about the same man.”
“I suppose we could research the Michael who lived on Vine Street. If he lived in Holiday Bay in nineteen fifty and was old enough to have been a teen or a young adult during that time, then I’d say yeah, maybe.”
“I wonder if we can find out about a party that would have taken place in the area in or around nineteen fifty as well,” Georgia said. “In nineteen fifty, the inn was a resort. The Bluff House Spa and Resort. I guess it stands to reason that if there had been a big party of some sort going on in the area, some of the guests might have been staying at the resort. The party might even have been held here, given the upscale nature of the resort during that time. If we really take a wild leap, we might even consider the fact that Rena, who would probably have been a teenager in nineteen fifty based on our estimation of her current age, might have known Catherine and Michael. If she’d been staying at the resort that Jasper and Joslyn Jones owned, that might account for her belief that she’s supposed to be staying here now.”
“There are so many holes in this theory,” I pointed out.
“I don’t disagree with that.”
“But maybe we can do some research and find out if there was a party in the area in nineteen fifty or possibly fifty-one.” I paused to think about it. “Willa Baker lived in the area back when the inn was a resort. She was just a girl, but she seemed to remember a lot about the resort. Maybe she’d know about a party.”
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask her,” Georgia responded. “Right now, I really do need to go and start breakfast.”
“I’ll be over in a few minutes. I need to check in with the gang to make sure we’re all set for the weekend in the event this storm lets up, and Lobsterfest isn’t canceled.”
“Amy and I are all set with the food, and I know that Jeremy and Mylie have been working on the booths and garden, but it might be a good idea if we all got together and talked about things.”
By the time I made it over to the inn, the gang had already gathered. As Georgia had assured me, it seemed as if everything was ready for the weekend event, providing, of course, that the weather didn’t ruin things. Having Amy and Mylie to help out had really made the difference, so once I served myself from the buffet and was seated, I thanked them both once again.
“No need to thank us,” Mylie said. “We’ve both enjoyed being part of the gang.”
“To be honest, the fact that I am supposed to go home next week has left me feeling depressed,” Amy said. “I’ll have to plan a return trip as soon as I can arrange it.”
“You’re always welcome,” I responded. I looked toward Mylie. “So, what are your plans after you check out next week?”
“I am going to temporarily move in with Christy and Haley,” she answered.
I, of course, knew this but felt it was best to seem surprised. “You are? Does that mean you’re thinking about making a permanent move to Holiday Bay?”
Mylie glanced at Jeremy. The affection in her gaze really couldn’t be denied. “I’m thinking about it. I know I’m not ready to leave yet, and Christy has a guest room I can use. We talked about it, and she suggested I stay and let things play out a bit before I make any decisions about my future, and I agreed. I’m booked here at the inn for another week, and then I’ll move over to Christy’s until I can decide whether to sell the house my grandmother left me or move back into it and start rebuilding my life.”
“It sounds as if you have a lot to think about,” I said.
“I really do,” Mylie answered. “But I’m excited about this new phase in my life.”
Georgia refilled everyone’s coffee and then sat down with us. David and Barbara were still checked into their room until after the weekend, but they’d taken a few days to drive up the coast, so they weren’t with us this morning. Rena was sleeping in, so that left Mylie and Amy as the only guests at the table with Georgia, Jeremy, Annabelle, and me.
“So, were you able to confirm a date for your BBQ special?” Amy asked Georgia after she sat down with her own plate of food. Georgia’s cable show Cooking With Georgia planned to do a segment on location here at the inn.
“We’re going to film it in late August, and it will air as a Labor Day special,” she responded.
“I’d love to come back for the taping. Maybe after breakfast, you can check and see if you have any openings.”
“I’ll check,” Georgia said. “If not, you can sl
eep on the sofa in the cottage.” She looked at me. “Provided, of course, that’s okay with Abby.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine with me if it’s okay with Amy.”
“I’ll look at the bookings, and we’ll work something out,” Georgia said. “I could actually use someone to help me during the taping if you want to be my assistant.”
“Really? You want me to be on the show with you?”
Georgia smiled. “Sure. Why not? It will be good exposure for you, and having someone to help out given the nature of the taping will be helpful for me.”
Amy got up, rounded the table, and hugged Georgia. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. This means so much to me. You have no idea.”
After breakfast, I headed back to the cottage to call Willa and check in with Colt. Colt had informed me yesterday that he’d been able to have the items Patrick stole appraised, only to confirm what we suspected; the gems in all the items he’d taken were fakes. The interesting part of the whole thing was that the inventory list he’d received from the museum listed the value of the items as if the gems had been real. Colt had a few angles he was exploring, but so far, nothing had panned out. He’d shared that Nadine had been calling him repeatedly, asking to have the stolen items returned, but as he’d told her the first time, the relics in the duffle bag were considered evidence in Patrick’s murder case, so until he solved the case, the relics would remain in lock up.