She hurried over to the man and tried to catch her breath.
“Well, hello there, Miss …?” The man looked up at her quizzically. And then he glanced behind her as a shadow fell across the room.
“Quentin? Who’s your friend here? What’s going on?”
Quentin? Sorrow turned and saw that the strange young man from the beach had somehow caught up with her. He lurked in the doorway, and Sorrow noticed that he was quite tall and thin when he was standing up.
Sorrow held a hand to her chest and took a deep breath.
“There’s bones on the beach again, Marshal Lewis,” Quentin said before she could talk.
Again?
Marshal Lewis raised eyebrows so pale against his pink skin that Sorrow could barely see them. “Is that what the problem is, Miss…”
“Miss Hamilton. And yes. There are human bones washed up on the beach. A torso. And an arm.”
“Oh my.” Marshal Lewis shared a glance with Quentin. “Quite a ghastly discovery, I’d say.”
He didn’t sound at all perturbed. Sorrow had to wonder why not.
“Marshal Lewis, my brother was here in Tidepool a couple of weeks ago. He never returned home.”
“I’m very sorry to hear about that, miss. And where’s home?”
“Baltimore.”
“Hmm.” Marshal Lewis stroked his chin as he looked at Sorrow. “And is that what brought you here?”
“Yes.” Sorrow felt frustration building up inside her again. “His last letter came to me from this place. There’s no indication he ended up anywhere else. And now you’ve got human bones on the beach.”
“Miss Hamilton?” The marshal looked grave now. “Are you suggesting those bones could be your brother’s?”
“Well, I’m sure I don’t know. I can hardly tell that just by looking at them, can I? But it’s still a terrible sight. Human remains, just washing up? I thought you’d want to go have a look.”
The marshal sighed and shook his head.
“Miss, you do understand that there’s very little we can do about something like that, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
He spoke as if he were addressing a very stupid child. “We’ve no way of determining who those bones belong to.”
“Why not? Surely there aren’t that many missing people here, are there?”
Quentin made an odd sound behind her, but she ignored it. The marshal reached a pudgy hand around and rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke.
“Young lady, the Atlantic Ocean can be a very cruel, violent place. Sailors fall overboard and drown. Boats capsize in storms. Fishermen fall in and can’t be helped to safety in time. People who can’t swim go into the water and never come out. I understand how ghastly that discovery was to you, but this is far from the first time we’ve had human remains wash up here, nor will it be the last.”
As had been the case with just about everyone else she’d encountered in Tidepool, Marshal Lewis couldn’t quite look Sorrow in the eye as he spoke to her. His gaze darted around the small, stuffy office, as if he were searching for a way out of the place.
“I am very sorry about your brother, Miss Hamilton. If you give me a general description of him I’d be happy to ask around, see if anyone here saw him or knows where he might have gone when he left our town. But you shouldn’t trouble yourself about those bones. I’m sorry you’ve made such a macabre discovery in our fine town, but there’s little to be done about it.”
Fine town, my foot. Sorrow could barely bring herself to speak. Her brother was missing, remains had just washed up in the small town where he’d last been seen — and nobody cared. Not even the people who she’d thought were supposed to care.
“Miss? Will you be staying in Tidepool much longer?” Marshal Lewis looked at her with an expression that indicated Sorrow would be wise to answer No.
“There… there are a few other people I wish to speak to. And then I will be on my way.”
“Very well. Why don’t you write down your home address for me? I will ask around about your brother and let you know at once about anything I learn.”
“You haven’t even asked me his name.”
“Of course. Write that down as well, please.” He opened a drawer and then pushed a blank piece of paper and a pencil towards her.
Sorrow fought the temptation to fling the pencil in the marshal’s face. She doubted the useless man would even bother to shift himself from behind his desk to inquire about Henry.
But she also felt that making an enemy of one of the town’s few authority figures might be unwise. She shook her head and wrote down her information, as well as a physical description of Henry.
“Thank you, Miss… Sorrow?” Marshal Lewis stared at her. She nodded curtly, not wishing to have yet another discussion about her peculiar name.
“All right, then. I will be sure to let you know about anything I hear.”
“Thank you.” She forced herself to be civil as she left the small building. Quentin still lingered outside.
“I told you he wouldn’t do anything,” he said, sounding sad rather than smug.
“Why did you follow me, Quentin?”
“Because you’re nice.” He spoke with a complete lack of guile. The young man said more flattering things to her than any fellow who’d ever courted her, and yet Sorrow was certain he had no amorous intention.
“And you shouldn’t be here,” he added. “You shouldn’t have come.”
That sounded less kind.
“As you heard, my brother is missing. I can’t rest until I know what happened to him.”
Quentin seemed to find that displeasing for some reason; his eyebrows furrowed.
“But for your information,” she continued, “I’m not staying here a second longer than I must. As I told that marshal, I need to speak to a few more people before I leave.”
“Nobody’s going to tell you anything.”
“Oh? And is there something to tell? Do you know what happened to my brother?”
He wouldn’t answer her, nor would he look up. Something in her midsection turned cold.
“You do know, don’t you?” She seized his forearms, which made him whimper and start twisting away from her. His skin felt cold under her hands.
“Quentin, my brother is the closest thing to a parent I’ve had my entire life. Please— if you have any idea what happened to him, you must tell me. I beg you.”
“I don’t dare,” he whispered. “I’ll be in terrible trouble. And so will you, if you don’t get away from this place.” He wrenched himself loose from Sorrow’s grip and tore off down Gull Street.
“Quentin? Quentin!”
He didn’t stop; he ducked between two buildings and out of Sorrow’s sight.
Her head reeled, and she steadied herself against a wooden post outside the marshal’s office.
Who could possibly want to harm her brother? He’d always been a kind, charming, utterly decent man. What the hell had happened to him in this terrible place?
She bit her lip and tried hard to collect herself. Quentin was probably right. Whatever had happened here, nobody was going to tell her a damn thing, and she had no way of forcing the truth from them. Nor did she have any authority someone here might respect.
Very well, then. She’d retrieve her things from Cooper’s Inn, head up to the stables, ask the people there if they’d seen Henry leave the town, and then take her horse and buggy back to Ocean City. She’d get a room there overnight if it were too late for the train by the time she arrived. She had no more desire to be in Tidepool.
And then Father could send over the detectives he’d spoken of. Let Tidepool’s residents try to stonewall those fellows.
She walked up the front stairs to Cooper’s Inn, stepping carefully over the rotting boards on the porch. Naomi stood out in the entryway; she eyed Sorrow with an unreadable expression.
“Everything all right, Miss Hamilton?”
Hardly. “I will be
leaving soon, Mrs. Cooper. Please settle up my bill.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“Excuse me?” Sorrow paused and stared at the woman.
“Miss, the best thing you can do for yourself is leave this place. Your brother is gone.”
“What?” She felt cold. “Do you mean he’s dead?”
“I mean that you won’t find him here. It’s as we’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t know where he is, but he’s not in Tidepool.” Naomi stepped closer to her and lowered her voice. “And I suggest that you go home to Baltimore and tell your friends there that we don’t want to be developed. We’re happy the way we are, thank you very much. I’m sure there are other towns out there who might welcome such… help.”
The pleasantness Naomi had shown the night before was gone, and Sorrow felt a pulse of anger throbbing somewhere in her head. These people, these awful backwards people, had done something to her Henry. And they were practically daring her to do anything about it.
“I’ll definitely be heading back to Baltimore,” Sorrow said, her chilly tone matching Naomi’s. “But don’t worry. No more friends of mine will be coming here. The next Baltimore residents you see in Tidepool will be detectives and police. You can tell them that you don’t know what happened to my brother.”
Naomi’s dark brown eyes widened. “I strongly suggest you drop this. You can send the finest detectives in the land here. It won’t matter. You won’t find your brother, but you could put the people of this town in terrible danger.”
That gave Sorrow a moment of pause.
“Danger? What on earth are you talking about?”
Naomi stared at her, her chin raised. She wouldn’t respond, but Sorrow saw a brief flicker of fear in the woman’s dark eyes.
“Well, no matter,” Sorrow said at last. “I’m taking your advice. I’m leaving Tidepool right now. I wouldn’t stay another moment in this stinking pit.” Sorrow brushed past Naomi and stomped up the stairs.
She gathered her things and stuffed them roughly into her suitcase, wondering if the stench of dead fish would linger forever in the clothing she had worn here. She’d worry about getting everything cleaned when she was back home. Better still, perhaps she’d just set it all on fire.
The kitchen door downstairs made another annoying squeal, and Sorrow entertained pleasant thoughts about setting that aflame as well.
Back downstairs, she settled her bill with Balt Cooper, who as usual couldn’t meet her eye.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t find out more about your brother, Miss Hamilton,” he said, his voice quavering.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean. People in Tidepool do far too much of that.” Without another word to the pathetic Mr. Cooper, Sorrow snatched up her case and left the inn.
She was halfway up the street when she heard footsteps behind her, keeping pace with hers. She whirled around and saw Quentin lurking several steps behind her.
“You can relax. I’m going. See? I have my suitcase and everything.”
“I’ll walk with you to the stables,” he said as he caught up to her.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You shouldn’t have said anything about those bones.”
Something in the pit of her stomach tightened at that. “What possible difference could it make? You said yourself they don’t even know who those bones belong to.”
“People here like to pretend they don’t see these things.”
She sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“Well, bully for them. They can go right back to pretending. I’ve had enough of this place. And stop following me if you aren’t going to tell me anything useful. I’m quite capable of walking to the stables myself, thank you.”
As she turned away from Quentin, she spotted someone else approaching them and felt a chill.
Mrs. Ada Oliver walked down Water Street towards them. And her large brown eyes were fixed on Sorrow.
Chapter Six
RETRIEVING THE RUNAWAY
Mrs. Oliver appeared to glide rather than walk as she moved down the street, and her black silk dress looked particularly stark compared to the washed-out, dull colors of everything else in Tidepool. Between the dress’s color and the fact that, as Sorrow had noticed the previous night, it appeared to be several decades out of fashion, Mrs. Oliver looked like an apparition on Tidepool’s streets. The anxious glances the woman received from townspeople passing by her did nothing to change that impression.
Sorrow made to sidestep around the woman and continue to the stables, but Mrs. Oliver stopped directly in front of her.
“Miss Hamilton, is it?” she asked in a deep voice. “I heard you speaking to the Coopers yesterday.”
“Yes. And are you Mrs. Oliver?”
“I am.”
“Well, then. Pleased to meet you, but I’m afraid I’m on my way out of Tidepool.” As all of you seemed to want, she didn’t add.
“That’s a pity, Miss Hamilton.”
“I’m glad that you think so. No one else seems to.”
“She’s going, Ada,” Quentin added from behind Sorrow.
“Yes, Quentin. I heard her. Miss Hamilton, I do hope my brother has not been annoying you.”
“Your brother?” Sorrow would never have guessed the awkward young man was related to Mrs. Oliver in any way.
“Yes. Quentin has an odd way of relating to people, but he means no harm.”
Something about Mrs. Oliver’s eyes got under Sorrow’s skin. The words the woman spoke were polite, even gracious, but her eyes looked black, pitiless, and deeply unnerving. Shark’s eyes, Sorrow thought.
“I must admit to being curious, however,” Mrs. Oliver continued. “Why are all these young people from Baltimore so interested in Tidepool? You are the third one to come here in not that many weeks.”
Sorrow bit back an angry I’m not interested in this hellhole at all. And then she realized what the woman had just said.
“You must be speaking of my brother and his associate. Did you meet them?”
The woman nodded.
“Well, that’s why I’m here. I certainly don’t care at all about property development, but my brother Henry is missing, and the last contact I had from him was from this place. I’ve been trying to find out where he might have gone, but nobody here seems to have any information that they are willing to share.” She directed the last bit at a fidgeting Quentin.
Mrs. Oliver stared at her for a moment with those impenetrable dark eyes.
“I see. I am very sorry to hear that.”
“Did he perhaps speak to you of going somewhere else after he left Tidepool?”
“I am afraid he did not, Miss Hamilton. His conversation with me was focused entirely on what his firm wished to do with this town.”
Sorrow tried to conceal a sigh. Had she thought Mrs. Oliver might give her a more helpful answer than the others here had?
“Well, as your brother told you, I am indeed heading out now. It’s clear I won’t find any answers about Henry here. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get to the stables as soon as possible. My father will be dreadfully worried about me by now.”
“And where will you go?” Mrs. Oliver asked.
“Ocean City. And then back to Baltimore.”
Mrs. Oliver gazed at her for another moment before speaking.
“I am very sorry if you have found the people here somewhat disagreeable. So that you do not leave here believing we are all so unfriendly, I would like to have you as a guest for lunch before you leave.”
“Ada! She has to go home!” Quentin sounded terribly alarmed, and Sorrow couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Quentin. Enough.” Mrs. Oliver gazed at the man, who continued to stare at Sorrow with worried eyes but stopped talking.
“You will have to excuse my brother, Miss Hamilton. He sometimes forgets his manners.”
Sorrow didn
’t want to offend Mrs. Oliver. Then again, she couldn’t imagine why it mattered, as she was on her way out of town anyhow.
“Mrs. Oliver, the offer is very kind of you, but…”
And then a loud male voice rang out from behind her.
“Why, Sally Hamilton! I say, if you haven’t given your poor father a turn!”
Sorrow’s mouth dropped open and she spun around. Nobody was allowed to call her Sally. Nobody but Henry. Even as a child Henry had hated the name Sorrow, but how he’d come up with Sally as an alternative, she had no idea. She barely tolerated the nickname from him, and she’d immediately straighten out anyone else who tried to use it.
And someone just had.
Charlie Sherman stood behind her with a wide grin. His golden hair and dark green suit looked clean, vivid, and altogether out of place in this dismal little town. She fought a sudden urge to throw her arms around him.
“Charlie? What in the world are you doing here?” She held a hand to her chest, trying to get over the surprise of seeing another person she knew standing in Tidepool. And Charlie, of all people.
“Your father had quite the conniption when he read that letter you left him, I don’t mind telling you. He wouldn’t rest until I told him I’d come out here and fetch you.”
“Fetch me?” His choice of words infuriated Sorrow. “I’m not a cat who ran up a tree, Charlie. I’m looking for Hal.”
“Understood. But you do know that there are people whose actual professions involve tracking down the missing, yes?”
“Hal isn’t their brother. And I hardly need to explain myself to you,” she said, turning away from him. She generally found Charlie quite pleasing; his wide hazel eyes and winning, friendly manner had captivated her since he’d first befriended Henry when they were schoolmates.
Right now, though, being spoken to in front of two complete strangers as if she were a naughty runaway child made her quite forget what she had ever seen in him.
“Besides, I was just leaving Tidepool, as I was explaining to Mrs. Oliver and her brother.”
“Leaving? Oh, no. Not so fast, Sally.”
“Yes, I am. And I’ve told you thousands of times not to call me Sally. That’s Henry’s name for me, and no one else’s.”
Tidepool Page 5