Deja Vu

by Samantha Gentry

  Even though she didn’t have anything specific in mind, she felt certain something important was inside the cottage. A hunch? Her psychic abilities poking at her? Wishful thinking? She didn’t know. The only certainty being her belief that Hank and Dolly knew more than they claimed. But did they know Winthrop was still alive? That Winthrop and Prescott were one and the same person? Brian’s past association had been with J.D. Prescott. Hank and Dolly’s path had crossed with Winthrop Hollingsworth. Exactly who knew what about whom? Yet another puzzle piece that needed to be sorted out and put into proper perspective.

  The bright sunlight warmed her mood as she continued with her walk. Her thoughts vacillated between the outward concept of turning the island into a resort and the mystery that had them ensnared in its net…a mystery as much Gable’s doing as Prescott’s. She quickened her pace as her thoughts turned to her immediate concern—the identification of Jack Stinson’s body and how to speed it up. Ever since Gable’s phone conversation with Bud Lansing about the difficulty in positively identifying the second skeleton, she had been toying with a plan—one she was sure Gable would not like, which was why she wanted to work out all the details before presenting it to him. She needed to be able to anticipate his objections and have an answer for them.

  As the path rounded the far side of the island, the small sandy cove came into view. Lexi came to an abrupt halt, her attention riveted on the small boat approaching the beach. One of the men jumped out into the surf and waded ashore while the other man turned the boat around and left. Her senses jumped to full alert. She quickly hid behind some bushes so the intruder couldn’t see her. Did that tabloid reporter actually think he was going to get away with sneaking on the island again?

  A surge of trepidation invaded her reality and her heartbeat jumped into high gear when she realized the man was taller than the reporter and definitely much older. She couldn’t see his face. But whoever he was, he seemed to know where the surveillance cameras were and how to avoid being detected.

  Then one clearly defined thought popped into her mind. The intruder had to be J.D. Prescott who knew the layout because Brian told him. Where was he going? Where could he hide? Brian was on duty and couldn’t do anything for a few hours yet without his absence being noticed. Prescott certainly couldn’t hide out in Gable’s house. With the locks having been changed on the Victorian mansion, he couldn’t get inside without it being obvious that someone had broken in. Maybe Prescott had already started for the island before Brian found out about the locks? She shook her head. No, that wouldn’t explain anything. All Brian had to do was call him on his cell phone and stop him from making the trip from the mainland to the island.

  At least one of the other guards, if not all of them, were at the guard’s temporary quarters in the building about one hundred yards behind Gable’s house. That left only Hank and Dolly’s cottage. She watched until the intruder was out of sight, making sure he didn’t know he’d been spotted.

  The urgency pounded inside her. Gable had to be told about this immediately.

  As soon as the intruder was out of sight, she hurried back to the house, finally breaking into a run for the last fifty yards. Bursting through the utility room door into the kitchen, she came face to face with Dolly. She spotted Hank sitting at the kitchen table across the room.

  “My goodness, Miss Caldwell. You seem all out of breath.” Dolly glanced past Lexi into the garage, then returned her attention to the problem at hand. “Is everything all right?”

  Lexi forced her demeanor into a calmer mode. “Yes.” She extended as casual a smile as she could muster. “I’ve been jogging. It feels good to get the heart pounding and the blood pumping.” She eased toward the hallway. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” She shot one last nervous glance in Hank’s direction, then walked briskly down the hallway. Once out of sight of the kitchen, she headed for Gable’s office rather than her room in the back wing.

  She found the door to Gable’s office locked. When she didn’t receive any response to her soft knock, she took the key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Entering quickly before anyone saw her, she closed the door and locked it, then turned around.

  A tight lump formed in the pit of Lexi’s stomach and tried to climb up her throat. A man sat at Gable’s desk, a man dressed in the same clothes the intruder at the cove wore. A moment of panic grabbed her as she reached behind for the door handle. The man raised his head. A hard jolt of shock rocked her body. She stared at the face, a face she had seen before. The same face in the computer aged photograph of Jack Stinson. The same face that had appeared in her vision before it morphed into the image of the skull. Fear replaced her shock. Her throat tried to close off, but she managed a few shaky words.

  “You…you’re dead!”

  The man rose from the chair. “As Mark Twain said in response to an obituary printed in the newspaper, ‘The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.’ As you can see, I’m very much alive.”

  “I believe Lexi has mistaken you for my father.” The voice came from behind her, startling her already shattered nerves. She whirled around and saw Gable, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her panic began to subside, but a touch of anger quickly replaced it.

  She glared at Gable. “What the hell’s going on here? If this isn’t Jack Stinson, then who is he? Why is he made up to look like your father and why did he need to sneak on the island?”

  A hint of surprise darted across Gable’s face. “Sneak on the island? You saw him arrive?”

  “That’s what I’m doing here. I wanted to tell you about the intruder. At first I assumed he was another reporter. Then I wondered if he was…” She stopped herself before mentioning Prescott’s name in front of a stranger. She took a quick sideways look at the man behind the desk. “But I see you already know about the intruder.”

  Gable took her arm and escorted her to the desk. “Alexandra Caldwell, I’d like you to meet Robert Stinson, my father’s twin brother, better known to the world as Santorini The Great, illusionist extraordinaire.”

  Lexi shook her head in an attempt to clear the fuzziness and make some sense of what he had said. “But Robert Stinson died in Spain a couple of years ago in an automobile accident. If that’s who you are, then coming back from the dead is definitely a spectacular illusion.”

  Robert stepped out from behind the desk, extending his hand toward Lexi along with a captivating smile. “As I said, young lady, the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”

  “Uncle Robert and I have been in agreement for twenty-five years…from the time I was mature enough to get a good grasp on what had happened…that Winthrop Hollingsworth was still alive and had murdered his wife and used my father as his scapegoat. We had a long term plan that has always been behind everything either of us has done over the years. Step one was my change of identity so that Jonathon Stinson no longer existed followed by the purchase of Skull Island. Step two was Uncle Robert’s retirement. Step three was his reported death. At that point, the only two people who could possibly present any type of a problem for Winthrop Hollingsworth were no longer a factor. At least that is how we intended for Winthrop to see it.”

  Suddenly it all made sense to her. Everything jumped into her mind in crystal clarity. She shot a quizzical look at Gable. “So your announcement about resort plans was step four? Nothing more than a ruse to draw Winthrop out into the open?”

  “Yes and no. Yes in that it was step four. Certainly the probability of Winthrop having buried the bodies on the island was prominent in my mind. It made far more sense than him trying to get the bodies off the island in the days following the disappearances without any help so that no one would know he was alive. And he couldn’t simply leave them in a closet somewhere as they started to decompose. If Winthrop believed there was a possibility of someone uncovering them during the construction of a resort, then he would have to do something even if it was from the safety of his new identity. And by making it k
nown that the entire island would be dedicated to various resort functions meant no location would be safe from possible discovery. But no in that I have to admit that I like the resort plans. When this is behind us, the idea of actually building the resort is now a very real possibility.”

  She glanced at Robert for a moment before voicing the uppermost thought in her mind. “Would you have told me about your uncle if I hadn’t seen him sneak onto the island then accidentally discovered him in your office? I assume he’s the reason you changed the locks on the Victorian mansion so that no one else had access and he had a place to stay where he could remain hidden. Even your comment about lights being on random timers meant he could have lights on at night in various rooms without drawing any suspicion.”

  Gable’s expression turned serious. “I had intended to tell you tonight when we had some time alone after dinner. Uncle Robert is going to hide out in my office until dark, then he’ll go to the mansion. The third floor kitchenette has been stocked with food, there’s television and computer access.”

  “What about my equipment?” Robert returned to Gable’s desk. “Has it arrived yet?”

  “The crates are warehoused at Ocean Transport’s dock on the mainland. They’ll be delivered this afternoon and stored in the mansion in the band room on the first floor, out of sight from anyone trying to look in the windows even though the drapes are drawn.”

  “Perfect. I’ll unpack everything tonight and get to work on my little contribution.”

  Lexi looked from Robert to Gable, but neither man offered to elaborate on what had already been said. She wanted to know, but she didn’t want to push Gable for more than he was ready to disclose. Her emotional attachment to Gable was intense, but she accepted that her involvement in a plan to unmask Winthrop Hollingsworth was not part of his original scheme. The majority of Gable’s life…all of his adult life…had been spent working to bring a killer to justice and clear his father’s name. Intellectually, she knew she needed to respect that and take it one step at a time, but emotionally was a more difficult situation.

  And her first step would be in the morning, after she filled Gable in on the plan she had devised.

  ****

  Lexi trailed her fingers across Gable’s chest, nudging him awake. She brushed a soft kiss on his lips before sliding out of bed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back. He held her close for a moment, then the necessity of a time frame forced them to part. She had a very busy morning ahead of her and needed to get started. The boat would pick her up at the dock in an hour and Gable had arranged a car to be waiting for her on the mainland. In spite of his initial objection, she had prevailed in convincing him of her plan to hasten the official identification of the second skeleton.

  She hurried back to her room, showered and dressed, then met the boat at the dock. She found the waiting rental car at Ocean Transport’s office and drove to the sheriff’s lab. After introducing herself to the man responsible for identifying the second skeleton, she explained her job as a researcher…without mentioning J.D. Prescott’s name or the nature of her current assignment…then got right down to business.

  Lexi handed the lab technician a photograph of Jack Stinson taken the week of the disappearances. “This is a picture of the person whose skeleton you haven’t been able to identify.”

  “Really?” The technician shot her a skeptical look. “And you know this how?”

  “One step at a time.” She offered a confident smile. “Verify it by the process of superimposing the skull with the photograph. I can help you with that. And when you find that it’s a match, we can discuss it further.”

  “I’ll need to notify the deputy in charge of the investigation before I can proceed with this.”

  “Of course. That would be Deputy Lansing?”

  “Yes…” His voice trailed off as his expression changed from skeptical to questioning. He made a quick phone call, then escorted Lexi to the lab.

  They worked together for several hours. She assisted him in setting up the photographic equipment and digitally matching the skull to the angle of the head in the photograph. After exactly duplicating the angle with the skull and resizing the photograph to life size, they superimposed one over the other. The technician carefully matched the width and depth of the eyes, slope of the forehead, cheekbones, definition of the jaw, shape of head, and even the shape and set of the teeth showing in the photograph…all the points of identification he could find.

  Lexi nodded her head in response to the technician’s obvious surprise. “Looks like a perfect match to me.”

  “Yes. It looks like it to me, too.”

  She whirled around at the sound of the voice coming from behind her and spotted Bud Lansing. “Deputy Lansing. Nice to see you again.”

  “Needless to say, you and I have to talk. I want to know how and why you happen to have this.”

  “And here…” she held out another picture toward the deputy, “is a computer aged version of that photograph showing what the subject would look like today…if he were alive. The photograph is, of course, Jack Stinson. I’m sure that doesn’t come as any surprise to you. This should be sufficient proof of the skeleton’s identity since there aren’t any dental records or anything to match for DNA.”

  Bud took the picture from her and stared at the image. A slight frown wrinkled across his forehead. “Something vaguely familiar about this face.” He studied it a moment longer, then stuck it in a file folder he had brought with him. “I assume I can keep this?”

  “Certainly.”

  He stared at the screen showing the skull superimposed over the thirty-year-old photograph of Jack Stinson, then turned his attention to the technician. “Print that for me…four copies.”

  “And now, Lexi…” with a sweeping gesture Bud indicated the door of the lab, “shall we adjourn?”

  Deputy Lansing escorted Lexi to his office and pointed toward a chair for her. “I want to hear how all of this came about. Start at the beginning.” He leaned back in his chair and waited for her to collect her thoughts, the expression on his face showing a combination of keen interest and a healthy dose of skepticism.

  Providing him with her carefully rehearsed story, Lexi related as much as he needed to know without revealing the underlying truth. “I was hired by J.D. Prescott to do research for a book he’s writing. He wanted information about the disappearance of Winthrop and Evelyn Hollingsworth from Skull Island during a Halloween costume party thirty years ago. That entailed a trip to Skull Island because part of the information Mr. Prescott asked me to check involves the plans Gable Talbot has for building a resort on the island. As part of my research prior to arriving on the island, I procured photographs of the three missing people.”

  “And why did you take the time to computer age a photograph of someone presumed dead?”

  “I wanted to see if it was the same face I had been seeing.”

  A look of surprise darted across his features. “The face you had been seeing?”

  She played the part as she and Gable had devised it starting by giving the appearance of being uncomfortable with what she was about to say. And as far as discussing her psychic abilities, that wasn’t far from the truth. “I…uh…I sometimes have visions. I see things.”

  “You mean you have psychic visions?”

  “Well…yes. I don’t know what else to call them. I started having a series of visions from the moment I stepped foot on the dock at Skull Island.” She scrunched up the corner of her mouth as if thinking about the words she had used. “Actually it was the same vision over and over again. A face that morphed into a skull, then a mud slide and two skeletons. A vision that became frighteningly real.”

  “And aging the photograph?”

  “The face in my vision was not a young man. He was much older. So, after my vision of the mud and skeletons became reality, I computer aged the photographs out of curiosity. You can imagine my shock when the computer aged face of Jack Stinson turned out to be the
same face from my vision. Logically, the face of Jack Stinson should have appeared as it was thirty years ago at the time of his death, not as he would look today. But for reasons I don’t understand, that isn’t the way it happened.”

  “And Gable told you about the second skeleton not being Winthrop?”

  “Yes. With the other skeleton positively identified as Evelyn, that eliminated the possibility of the skeletons being associated with something else, such as a Native American burial ground Gable had mentioned as a possibility. It pretty much meant the second skeleton had to be Jack Stinson, something I’m sure you also concluded. But you would need a positive identification before you could state that as fact. Of course, this gives you a new question that needs to be answered.”

  “Yes. What happened to Winthrop Hollingsworth? It now seems to be a cold case that has a whole new line of investigation.” He rose from his chair and came around his desk. “I certainly hope you realize what you’ve let yourself in for by coming forward with this.”

  “Excuse me?” She wrinkled her brow into a quizzical frown. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Media attention. Gable has been royally pissed by the way the press has been hounding him and dredging up all the Hollingsworth stuff following his announcement of the resort plans. Then when the skeletons were discovered, that only increased the attention on Skull Island. And now with the second skeleton not being Winthrop and you providing the information that allowed us to make an identification sooner that we would have…well, you might find the next few weeks intimidating. It might calm down when you return home, assuming no one tracks down where you live. But in the interim…”