****
Lexi stared out the bedroom window at the non-stop downpour. After unpacking, she had set up her laptop computer and established a work area at the corner table where she could look out the windows at the ocean view…barely visible today.
A restlessness gripped her and refused to let go. Something was very wrong, or more accurately a lot of somethings were very wrong. The island…Gable Talbot…the security guard. As much as she wanted to blame her suspicions on an overactive imagination combined with the thunder and lightning, she knew that wasn’t the answer.
The mental image continued to bother her. The mud slide, being trapped in the muck, the skull, and the skeletons. Somehow she had to figure out what her psychic abilities were trying to tell her. If only she had control of them, knew how to use them. For years she tried to deny they existed, but had finally come to grips with the knowledge that neither the visions nor her concerns about what they meant were going to go away on their own. Maybe if she had accepted them when they started during her teen years, she would be more comfortable with them now. Possibly even able to control the visions and accurately interpret them.
She allowed a sigh of resignation. She couldn’t turn back the clock. She was stuck with the here and now. And the here and now held a mystery she didn’t understand and psychic images she couldn’t explain. Were they a dire warning of some kind? A portent of danger? And if so, danger for whom? And from what?
She tried to shove her concerns aside and concentrate on her job. According to Gable, Dolly was preparing lunch for everyone. Getting acquainted with Dolly would be her first objective. As someone who had lived on the island a long time, she had probably made several observations and might be a good source of information…or at the very least some interesting gossip. Lexi left her room and headed for the main part of the house. Pausing at the kitchen door, she took a few moments to observe the short, plump woman at work before introducing herself.
Dolly appeared to be about sixty or so which would have made her in her late twenties when she and her husband first came to the island to work for the Hollingsworth family. Had they worked for Winthrop’s father or had Winthrop hired them? She seemed pleasant enough as she scurried around the kitchen. Was the title of caretaker just another way of saying cook and housekeeper? And her husband, Hank…what duties did he perform? Maintenance man and gardener? Was it a lonely existence being the only people living full time on an island? Or were they the only ones living on Skull Island full time?
Of course, it wasn’t as if they were truly that isolated. Skull Island was only a half hour boat ride from the Washington state mainland. The island had satellite television, computer internet, and all the other modern conveniences. Had they existed prior to the time when Gable purchased the island or were they part of his upgrades, installed when he built his private residence?
Lexi entered the kitchen. “Dolly?”
The older woman turned around. “You’re Alexandra Caldwell?” Dolly smiled as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Mr. Talbot said you’d be arriving today to stay with us for a while. I imagine you’re hungry. I’m just putting the finishing touches on lunch for Mr. Talbot and his business associates. You just sit yourself down at the table and I’ll have something for you as soon as I deliver this tray to the office.” She indicated the coffee maker on the counter. “The coffee is fresh. Help yourself.”
Lexi returned Dolly’s smile. “Thank you. Whatever you’re cooking sure smells good.” Another loud crack of thunder sent a tremor of anxiety up her spine. A low rumble followed, setting her nerves on edge. She poured herself a mug of hot coffee while wishing for something a little stronger to help soothe her nerves.
Dolly picked up the tray of luncheon plates and carried it toward the door as she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
“That looks heavy. Can I give you a hand with it?”
“No thanks, dear. I’m strong. I can manage just fine.”
Lexi sipped her coffee as she watched the rain splashing into the puddles on the large flagstone terrace. She opened the door and stepped out onto the covered wooden deck that extended the length of the house next to the terrace. The deck furniture had been covered and stacked up next to the wall indicating the end of summer.
Another boom of thunder ripped through the air sending a startled Lexi hurrying back to the safety of the kitchen. She tried to calm her anxiety by thinking about something else. Her thoughts gravitated toward Gable Talbot—his handsome features, mesmerizing presence, and dazzling smile.
She glanced out the window again. Hopefully the rain would not be one of those Pacific storms that lasted for days. Not only did it prevent her from exploring the island, she didn’t feel comfortable using her computer with all the lightning. That pretty much confined her work to going over all the information she had previously printed out from the internet. There were also the old newspaper articles she had copied at the library. This might be a good time for me to interview Hank and Dolly about the night of the party…the night three people disappeared from the island without a trace.
The cool breeze grabbed her attention along with the sound of someone stomping heavy boots against the floor. She glanced toward the utility room and through the opened door into the garage where she saw a gaunt man of medium height in his sixties shrugging out of a bright yellow rain slicker. He hung the wet jacket on a hook, then sat on a bench and pulled off his muddy boots before entering the utility room.
“Dolly…has that—” he stopped in mid sentence when he looked up and saw Lexi. His gaze darted around the kitchen, then returned to her. A bit of a scowl wrinkled across his forehead.
“You’d be Miz Caldwell?”
“Yes.” Lexi hurried toward the utility room with her hand outstretched. “I’m Lexi Caldwell. You must be Hank. I’m pleased to meet you. Dolly should be right back. She’s delivering lunch to Gable’s office.”
He ignored her hand and her smile. “They still havin’ them meetings? Thought they’d be done by now. How long does it take to say the golf course goes here and the swimmin’ pool there?”
Lexi dropped her hand to her side, a little taken aback by his gruff manner. Hank and Dolly seemed to be a very mismatched couple, an unlikely pair. Dolly radiated good cheer as she bustled about the kitchen while chatting amiably. Hank, on the other hand, exuded a taciturn manner and acted more the part of the stereotypical crusty New Englander.
“Oh, Hank…” Dolly’s voice entered the kitchen moments before she did. “I see you’ve met Miss Caldwell. The two of you sit yourselves down at the table and I’ll set out some lunch.” She turned her attention to her husband. “You must be chilled to the bone. I have some thick, hot beef stew and crusty French bread. It should taste good on a cold, rainy day like this. Something to stick to your ribs.”
Dolly filled three bowls with stew and set them on the table. She glanced out the window. “It sure looks like we might be in for a long, cold winter.” She returned her attention to Lexi. “This island is in a kind of sheltered location which protects it against the full brunt of the storms moving in from the Pacific. The winters are relatively mild compared to some of the other places in this area.”
Lexi finished her lunch in silence as Dolly prattled on good-naturedly about any number of everyday topics. After everyone had finished eating, Dolly cleared the dishes. “If you’ll excuse me, Miss Caldwell, I’ll collect the dirty dishes from Mr. Talbot’s office.”
As soon as Dolly was out of sight, Lexi turned her attention to Hank. She offered a pleasant smile, one she hoped would put him at ease. “Mr. Talbot tells me you and Dolly have been the caretakers on the island for over thirty years.”
“Yep, I reckon so. Somethin’ like that.”
“I guess that makes you a permanent fixture here…kind of like the Victorian mansion house.”
He took a long drink of water from his glass before responding to her comment. “Yep.”
A ripple of i
rritation told Lexi she would probably be better off trying to talk to the kitchen walls. They certainly couldn’t be less responsive than Hank. She decided to give it one more try. “You must have seen a lot of changes on the island over that period of time. How many different employers have you had since you started working on Skull Island?”
“Couldn’t rightly say.” Hank stood up and headed toward the utility room door. “Gotta get back to work.”
“I guess I’ll see you later.”
Hank didn’t respond to her words. She watched as he went to the garage and pulled on his boots, shrugged into his rain slicker, and disappeared from view. She closed the door from the utility room to the garage. Was this his normal behavior or was he purposely being difficult and rude? Perhaps she would have better luck with Dolly, who was much more outgoing than her husband.
Dolly returned, carrying a tray of dirty dishes. She set them on the counter next to the sink, then looked around. “Did Hank leave?”
“Yes, just a minute or two ago. He said he had to get back to work.”
“I’ll swear…that man.” Dolly allowed a sigh of resignation followed by a soft chuckle. “He works much too hard. I can’t get him to slow down. Even on a day like this he’s out there in the rain. One of these days he’s going to catch pneumonia. I try to get him to take a rest after lunch, but he won’t do it. He thinks he’s still thirty-years-old rather than sixty-four.”
“My father was like that. He never could just sit back and relax. He always had to be doing something. If there wasn’t any work that needed to be done, he’d create some sort of a work project.”
“That’s certainly a good description of Hank.” Dolly rinsed the lunch dishes, put them in the dishwasher, then wiped off the counter tops.
Lexi carefully formed her questions in her mind before asking them. “Gable tells me you and Hank have been the caretakers here for over thirty years.”
“Oh, my…yes. Nearly thirty-four years. I never would have believed that I’d be living on an island for that long when we first came here. But it’s been a good life.”
“It struck me that being the only ones living on an island…” she paused for a moment as she cocked her head and shot a questioning look toward Dolly, “there have been times when it’s been only you and Hank living here, right? That must have been a little lonely.”
Dolly’s expression became pensive as she wrinkled her brow into a thoughtful expression. “Oh…those times come and go. The last several years have been much quieter than the early ones with not nearly as many people coming and going as used to, but with Mr. Talbot’s plans for the resort…well, I guess it will be real busy in the future.”
“You were originally hired by the Hollingsworth family when they owned the island? Those must have been some exciting times if what I’ve read is correct. All the parties and things. I hear that it almost rivaled Hearst Castle in the lavishness of the parties and the notoriety of the house guests.”
“Oh, my, Miss Caldwell. You’re talking a time long before me and Hank was around. Charles Hollingsworth hired us three years before he died and Winthrop inherited everything. It was Richard Hollingsworth, Winthrop’s granddaddy, who built the Victorian mansion, hosted all them parties, and had the house guests here all the time. That was in the 1920s and also the 1930s during the Depression. Those people are all long gone.”
“Winthrop is an unusual name. I thought it might have been a family name, but you said his father was named Charles and his grandfather was Richard?”
“It’s a family name, all right. It was his mother’s maiden name. Charles Hollingsworth not only had family money, he married into money. The Winthrop family was wealthy in their own right.”
“Wow…that must have made for quite an empire. And Winthrop Hollingsworth inherited all of that at the age of thirty-five?”
“Dolly!”
The sharp tone of voice grabbed Lexi’s attention. She turned and saw Hank standing at the utility room door. A slight scowl and look of abject disapproval covered his face.
Dolly hurried toward the utility room. “Hank…I didn’t hear you come in. Do you need something?”
“I need to talk to you,” he shot a quick glance toward Lexi, “in private.”
Lexi nervously cleared her throat. “Well, I need to get to work. Thank you for lunch, Dolly. It was delicious.” She gave one last look in Hank’s direction, then left the kitchen headed toward the glassed in walkway leading to the back section of the house.
****
As soon as Lexi was out of sight, Hank turned his full attention to Dolly. He kept his voice low so no one else could hear him. “What do you think you’re doin’, woman? He ain’t gonna like you givin’ her all that information.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Dolly fixed Hank with a stern expression. “I’m not telling her anything she can’t find out for herself. If I’d been as rude as you she would of been suspicious and maybe started digging into something she’d normally ignore. The woman isn’t a dummy, otherwise she wouldn’t be doing the kind of work she does.”
****
Lexi glanced at her watch, a little after five o’clock. She had been so engrossed in going over all the material she had brought with her that she had not been aware of the time. Over four hours had passed since she left the kitchen. She rose from the large comfortable chair, stretching her arms above her head as she walked over to the window. The rain had continued non-stop all afternoon and didn’t show any signs of letting up.
The forecast called for the storm to move on before morning. Hopefully daylight would bring sunny weather so she could get outside and explore. She wanted to see for herself that the small cove on the far side of the island was the only place where someone could beach a boat and come ashore other than the dock by the mansion house. And if that was so, it also meant that was the only way off the island thirty years ago. She wanted to absorb the feel of the area, to put herself into the time and place when Winthrop and Evelyn Hollingsworth disappeared. That would require inspecting the inside of the mansion first hand rather than using photographs as reference.
She also wanted to spend some time with Dolly when Hank wasn’t around. Perhaps Hank’s reticence was his normal manner, but it seemed to her as if he was purposely refusing to provide her with any information no matter how basic her questions were. It should have been obvious to him that she could easily obtain the answers elsewhere.
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as she turned her mind to other matters. Picking up all her work papers, she returned them to the appropriate folders. When she originally copied the many newspaper articles, she had made several pages of notes to go along with some information she had printed from the internet. She had spent the afternoon going over those notes. The material had been very helpful and opened up several areas of investigation that hadn’t occurred to her when she first started her research. The entire history of the island after it had been acquired by Richard Hollingsworth fascinated her, particularly the time during the Prohibition period.
As she told Gable, she didn’t know how J.D. Prescott planned to use her research information, but the activities that took place on Skull Island during Prohibition would be a terrific basis for a novel. Using Richard Hollingsworth as a real life model for a fictional character, much as Orson Welles was rumored to have done with William Randolph Hearst for his film Citizen Kane, could produce a best seller. Of course, that would certainly be quite a departure from Prescott’s established style. She allowed a soft chuckle. Unless, as Gable had said, Prescott had the partially decomposed, gruesome looking bodies of the missing Winthrop and Evelyn rise from the ocean to terrorize everyone.
And again the image of the mud slide invaded her mind…the skull and the two skeletons. And again the image included her being trapped by the mud. A cold shudder swept through her body followed by an uncomfortable ripple of apprehension. Could the two skeletons be Winthrop and Evelyn? Could they be terrorizing me because I’m
delving into their disappearance? She shook away the disturbing thought. If they had been murdered, then why would their spirits object to someone trying to find out why and how? There had to be another answer and she needed to find it.
She turned her attention to dinner. Gable said they would be eating in the formal dining room with the three men she had met in his office. She took stock of the way she was dressed. Jeans and a sweater were not appropriate. She stared at the clothes hanging in the closet and finally selected a silk blouse with matching slacks. She freshened her makeup, dressed, then crossed over to the main section of the house.
“Lexi…join us, please.” Gable’s voice called to her from the den. “We’re having a before-dinner drink. What can I fix for you?”
She entered the den, smiled and nodded her acknowledgement of the other three men, then walked over to the bar where Gable was mixing drinks. “Maybe a glass of white wine. Chardonnay?”
“Coming right up.” He grabbed the chilled bottle from the wine cabinet, uncorked it and poured her a glass.
“I hope I’m not interfering with your business.”
Fred Turnbull smiled at her, a smile bordering on a leer. “Not at all, young lady. I’d much rather look at you than these scruffy fellows.”
She felt the heat of embarrassment flush across her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“Besides, we’ve finished with everything on our to-do list for today and tomorrow we’ll wind up our discussions and finalize a few items. I’m ready to return to my office and start work on the rest of the architectural drawings.”
“Yep,” Stuart Brooks spoke up, “I can tell you exactly where each hole on the golf course is going to be, what type of rough along with the size of sand and water traps, and how each of the greens will break. When Gable sets a schedule, you can be assured everything and everyone adheres to it.”
Walter Denning’s laugh filled the room. “I hope I can keep my construction guys on schedule with the same success.”
Deja Vu Page 3