Sea Star Legacy

by Carolyn Forrest

  Sandra’s neck tingled with foreboding as she noticed the sudden gleam in Hank’s eyes. It reminded Sandra of her old tomcat, Freckles, stalking the aquarium fish in the veterinarian’s waiting room.

  “No, I’ll ride it out,” she accented the end of her sentence as her eyes challenged his. “I get tired and I’ve been having trouble with a prank caller. But overall, I enjoy the business.”

  “A prank caller?” Hank asked as his stare darted out the window. The cavalier expression he wore on his face became somber like a black cloud covering the boisterous rays of the sun.

  “Yeah,” she replied with a frown. “Monday, I’m going to talk to the phone company about having my residential number changed. I can’t afford to change the business phone, however. I’d lose too many customers.” Sandra looked out at the mingling people while she searched for a way to change the subject. “It’s probably a harmless teenage prank.”

  “Could be a fisherman hoping to scare you out of the business.”

  “A fisherman?”

  “Sure. You sell to pleasure boat owners and sponsor a catamaran fleet. Fishermen hate pleasure sailboats because their dagger boards and keels ruin their nets.”

  “That’s rather extreme and immature behavior for an adult, don’t you think?” she asked perturbed by having such a long list of suspects.

  His cool hand clasped her wrist. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Hanks normally mischief laced eyes reflected concern. “Have you discussed this with anyone?”

  Sandra scanned the room for a welcome interruption. The entire party had gathered around the bar area, laughing and talking. She wished their table wasn’t so secluded from the party. “No,” she said, her throat growing drier with each stroke of Hank’s callused hand across hers. “I don’t wish to make a big deal out of a small prank. The telephone number needs to be changed anyway.”

  The crowd’s laughter rose. Hank tore his attention away from her to the disturbance. Seizing the opportunity, Sandra slipped her hand away and prepared her disposable dinnerware for the trash.

  “Are you finished?” she asked, standing up.

  “Yes. Would you like to join the others?”

  “We’d better. The entire town will be talking.”

  Her waggish dinner companion grinned while leaning closer across the table. “I don’t mind being the talk of the town, myself,” he said with a wink.

  “If I am going to be the talk of Fort Walton, I would prefer it not be due to idle gossip,” she snapped. Before Hank could respond, Sandra strode away to throw her paper products away. As she looked back at the corner where she had left him, she noticed he had already vacated the table.

  A familiar giggle fell on Sandra’s ear. Turning toward the source of the high pitched noise, she realized Hank had taken up entertaining a much more willing audience. She sighed and wished she had never agreed to come. She always hated large social gatherings. Whether it was the snob infested high society parties her mother held or the dreaded office party, it was all the same. Parties were excuses for people to come together to play social games of deceit to impress others for their own gain. How anyone could call such an event a party was beyond reasoning. The beginnings of a throbbing headache nagged at her temperament as she moved to the other side of the room. She tried to discreetly massage her forehead.

  “You okay?” asked Luke’s unmistakable deep voice.

  “I’m getting a bad headache,” she stated with a frown. If she hadn’t brought Luke to the party, she could make her apologies to Bernice and leave.

  As though reading Sandra’s mind, Luke wrapped his arm around her in a brief caress. “I’m sure I can get a ride home if you want to leave.”

  Wrestling with her conscience and the nagging suspicion of who Luke would find a ride with, she finally answered. “No, I can’t do that to you. I’ll tell you what, if you’ll give me a ride over to the shop, you can take the car and rejoin the party. I won’t need two vehicles on a Sunday and I hate to pull you away from the party.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind my taking your car?” he asked with surprise and not a lot of enthusiasm.

  “I’m sure,” she replied as her thoughts ran to the large waterbed rocking her to sleep. “I better say good night to Bernice before I go, though. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her tonight.”

  “She’ll understand. Besides, you’re saving me from Dana’s advances or having to stay here until dawn with Bernice,” Luke said and chuckled.

  “Is Dana the twittering little woman you were talking with earlier?” She immediately regretted her choice of words. It was none of her affair who Luke talked to. Besides, she didn’t like admitting to him or herself she’d followed his movements throughout the evening.

  He stopped short of Bernice’s earshot and glanced down at Sandra. Playful speculation shone in his jet blue eyes. “Do I detect the slightest hint of jealousy, Ma’am?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting her response.

  “If you did, it was not intentional.”

  Luke nodded in exaggerated politeness and smiled. “Then I will be sure to take it in its correct context.” Wrapping his arm back around her shoulders, he guided her to Bernice. His touch felt reassuring. Sandra fought the urge to nestle into the cradle of his arm.

  Bernice was listening with interest to a gray haired man with frosty white and gray whiskers entertaining a group. His skin wrinkled in creases around his eyes and mouth from what Sandra guessed to have been years of laughter and storytelling.

  “There he was wrestling with this here swordfish, when he lost his grip. That fifteen pound sword went a flying through the air and straight into the gal’s lap.” The silver haired man jumped back with an exaggerated movement of surprise and wide frantic eyes to further dramatize the tale. Straightening his stance, he surveyed the crowd for their reaction and continued. “The lady screamed and dropped the poor critter. Chris said, she wouldn’t even take it home even after he’d cleaned it himself. Of course, the good news is, we ate swordfish for the next two weeks. The listeners laughed good naturedly and began bandying remarks about.

  Luke dropped his arm from around Sandra and tapped Bernice on the shoulder. She turned and smiled at them.

  “Luke, Sandra, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Bernice exclaimed, motioning to the storyteller to join them. Her puckered smile accented her double chin, born of heredity, age and lifestyle.

  Sandra watched with interest as the older gentleman excused himself from the crowd and ambled their way.

  “Sandra, I want you to meet Eustice Emenaker. His fishing supplies this restaurant with the freshest fish in Florida.”

  “Oh now, you flatter an old man. I’m just a salty dog a doing what he knows best.” He offered Sandra his hand. “So, you’re Ben Harris’ grown girl. It’s a pleasure.” He paused as his eyes appraised her. “Too bad my Chris didn’t come along for the party. I bet the two of you would get along splendidly. He’s about your age, I reckon. He graduated from the University of Florida last May.”

  Sandra smiled politely, trying to ignore the awkwardness of his assentation about her age. “I’m sure you are very proud of him.”

  “You bet. Chris is not much of a fisherman or a sailor for that matter, but I think he’s going to make a fine environmental engineer. Always had a knack for figuring out problems. I wish them city official folks would hurry up and hire him.”

  A relaxed laugh came from Luke. “Isn’t he helping you out on the boat anymore?”

  “No, he’s in the tourist business for the time being. It’ll be over soon, however, and the fishing will be slowing down, too. Don’t know what he’ll be doing.”

  Bernice’s warm plump fingers grasped Sandra’s hand. “Did you ever find someone to help out at the Sea Breeze?”

  “No. I interviewed a couple of people last week. They were all unqualified or vagrants.” She felt her head throb, knowing she was being led down a narrow path by Bernice.

  “Chris woul
d be perfect and you’d be helping Eustice out.”

  “I’d be happy to talk to him, Eustice.” Sandra massaged her temple. “Have him come by around nine o’clock this coming Monday if he’s interested.”

  “My son and I wouldn’t dream of imposing on this fine lady. I’m sure she has someone already picked out for the job.”

  “No, truly, Mr. Emenaker, I’d love to have Chris apply for the position.”

  “Very well, I’ll make certain he’s there. It’d be great to have him out from underfoot and it will help his morale, too.” The old man’s chestnut colored eyes flickered with delight.

  Possessively, Luke moved closer to Sandra. “Sandy isn’t feeling well. I’m going to take her on home and head out,” he said in an authoritarian tone which raked on Sandra’s nerves.

  “I do have to leave, Bernice. I really am sorry.” She shot Luke a hard glance. He didn’t have the right to make excuses for her. And, he called her Sandy in front of everyone. All her life she had resisted schoolmates and friends calling her Sandy. Her name was Sandra and that’s what she intended to be called.

  Changing her expression like a tight Halloween mask, Sandra formed a warm smile upon her narrow lips. “It was nice to meet you, Eustice,” she said, extending her hand for him to shake. “Bernice, the party is wonderful. Everyone is having a great time.”

  The older woman looked down as if to consider her words. “Thank you, my dear.” She raised her gaze to meet Sandra’s. “I’ve been holding this little wingding every fall for the last six years. This was the first year your father hasn’t been here. I’m glad you could come. It seems right.”

  A lump formed in Sandra’s throat. This woman, so unlike her preconceived ideas, had loved her father in a special way. She had loved him without the need for formal conditions or a marriage license. Her father was fortunate to have had such a relationship.

  Her face must have given away her thoughts because she looked up to see Luke’s puzzled stare. Turning her back to him, she addressed Bernice. “I’m glad I came,” she told her, holding the woman’s gaze. She hoped Bernice would understand her unsaid feelings. The older woman nodded in acknowledgement.

  Once outside with the door shut tight and away from prying stares, she dared let out a painful sob. It filled her lungs with the moist ocean breeze, curling into her throat and spinning into her lungs. She heard the door open behind her. Holding her breath, she fought for a renewed sense of composure.

  “Ready to go?” Luke asked in a muffled tone.

  Sandra held back her emotions and gave a nod of her head in reply.

  Having crossed the small expanse of ocean front property between the Trader’s Cove and her shop, Sandra exited her car with unwavering zeal hoping to avoid her escort. When she reached the cement sidewalk outside the shop, she heard his stride catch up to hers. They walked side by side up to the wooden porch in silence. A pale light shone through the window. Luke handed her the keys. Without thought or explanation, she detached her car keys from the plain ring and held it out for him to accept. His fingertips grazed her palm sending a warm tingle up her arm. Pulling her hand back, she positioned her house key into the lock. A piece of white paper was attached to the door. The ends of the note were rolled up and flapping in the wind. She squinted as she pulled the edges down to read the large letters scrawled over the page. Go home where you belong, before it’s too late, she read. Fear and indignation filled her, as she ripped the page from the door and crumpled it into a ball.

  “What is it?” Alarm laced through Luke’s voice.

  “Nothing, someone left an . . . ad on my door.”

  “I’ve never seen lined notebook paper used for an advertisement.” Luke seized her by the shoulders and looked into her face. “What’s going on, Sandy?”

  Confusion overtook her, as her head pounded in pain. Of all the times to get a migraine headache, why now? she thought.

  “Sandy? Are you going to answer me?”

  “Please quit calling me Sandy. My name is Sandra.” She chewed on her lower lip trying to get her thoughts in order.

  “Sandra, what is going on. I deserve an explanation,” he demanded, not relinquishing his grip on her.

  “Why do you deserve an explanation? I don’t owe you anything. Not you. Not anyone.” Sandra pushed free from his grasp.

  As she opened the door and slipped inside, Luke levered his arm against it. “At least let me walk through the house with you. You’ve been gone most of the evening. There could be someone in there.”

  Sandra clutched the side of the door with both hands and shoved it back against Luke’s weight. He gave in and the door slammed shut.

  Luke stood silent on the porch waiting to hear the sounds of reassurance that Sandra was safe inside. He heard her body lean against the door. His heart hammered against his chest in restless apprehension. He fought back images of an intruder. Just as he reached for the knob, he heard the door jiggle with the release of her weight. A single pair of slow footsteps padded their way into the distance. The glow of Sandra’s bedroom light filtered out the window onto the stoop.

  Turning to leave, he was aware of the subtlest sounds. Rage and concern played a dual role with his emotions. He’d never met such a proud, stubborn woman. Sure, the note was probably a hoax. But, there was no way to be sure. He couldn’t understand why she would try to keep it from him.

  He crunched his body into her compact car and moved the seat back to allow room for his long legs. He found reverse easily on the stick shift and backed out. Staring at the Trader’s Cove, he knew what he needed to do. Sandra wasn’t going to like it. He had to do it, though. If not for her, for Ben.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Going back to the party, Luke scanned the room for the nearest telephone. Bernice sat at the bar. Her short fingers clutched a beige coffee cup, while her attention remained transfixed on the lilting words of Eustice Emenaker. The crowd had thinned to a few employees helping to cleanup.

  Luke strode to the end of the counter where a telephone sat. Picking up the receiver, he dialed and spoke into it. “Hello, Rachel, it’s Luke Caldwell. Is Sheriff Mac on duty tonight?”

  “Yes. He headed for his house for dinner an hour ago. He should be checking in anytime.” Her voice became rapid and shrill with excitement. “What’s going on? Do I need to call him?”

  “Ask him to go by the Sea Breeze and check on Ben Harris’ daughter, Sandra, as soon as he can. She had a threatening note pinned up on her door tonight. I’m concerned about her.”

  “I’d say so. We don’t get much of that sort of thing around these parts. My Fred went by and bought some rope from her last week. He said she was a peach.”

  “That she is,” Luke agreed easily.”

  “Make sure Mac goes straight out, will you?”

  “You’ve my word on it,” she assured him. Hopefully, it’s just an early Halloween prank and nothing will come out of it. Still, she’s got to be scared silly, what with living in that place by herself.”

  Luke grimaced as he found himself wondering yet again why Sandra had hid the note from him. She acted almost as if she knew who had put the note there.

  “I’m getting another call in, Luke.” Rachel announced. “It’s probably the sheriff.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Rachel.” Luke stared at the telephone as the receiver clicked a close to the conversation. As if in a dream, he dialed Sandra’s number. With each ring, his chest tightened making it harder and harder for him to breathe. On the eighth ring, he heard the phone being picked up. A moment passed. “Sandra? Sandra, are you there? Talk to me, damn it.”

  “Luke is that you?”

  “Yeah, are you alright?” Luke could hear small sobs trickle across the phone line spearing his body like a sharp harpoon. “I’m coming over. Let me in or so help me, I’ll break the door down splinter by splinter.”

  Clearing her throat, Sandra let out a sniffle. ”I’ll be . . . I’ll go unlock the door, now.”

  Returning
the phone to its hook, Luke turned to see Bernice and Eustice staring at him with questioning expressions.

  “Well? You gonna tell us what’s goin’ on or leave us eavesdropping?” Bernice asked in a concerned tone.

  “It’s Sandra.”

  “Good heavens, is she hurt?” Near panic clung to Bernice’s voice.

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.” What was he saying? Hell, he didn’t have any idea how she was.

  “Luke, what’s going on?” Bernice asked.

  Eustice reached over and squeezed Bernice’s hand as his stare prodded Luke to explain.

  Taking a deep breath, he held it for a second trying to compose his ragged thoughts. “I don’t have time to explain. I need to get back over there.”

  Bernice scrunched her face up tight like a prune, while Eustice sat speechless, rubbing his chin with his index finger.

  “I’ll let you know what’s going on, as soon as I can, Bernice,” he stated, ignoring Eustice.

  Luke strode to the door and paused to look out the glass to the Sea Breeze. He hoped to see something, anything to relieve his fears. A faint glow could be seen from the living room window. His stomach turned with a sense of foreboding. A dark shadow passed in front of the light. His heart froze in his chest. Instinctively, he ran out the door towards Sandra’s. As his heavy steps hit the wooden porch, he lightened his pace.

  A slice of light slipped from the crack in the front door. As Luke approached, the door widened. The incandescent glow silhouetted her small frame. In God’s name, what would he do if something happened to her? Catching her up in his arms, he buried his face into her neck. He inhaled the floral essence of her like a bee gathering pollen.

  “Thank God, you’re safe,” he said, blanketing her in his arms and soothing her with soft kisses.

  The downstairs business phone rang. Sandra caught her breath as she held her body rigid in anticipation.

  “Sandra? Aren’t you going to answer the phone?” he asked as he guided her into the living room. When she made no attempt to move away, Luke pried her from his arm. “What’s going on?”