A Following Sea

by Michael Lindley

  Now she seemed alarmed at his anger. "Alex, please..."

  "How did you even get her number?" he asked.

  "I got it off your phone."

  "And you didn't think you needed to tell me about this little conversation?"

  "Alex, I'm sorry..."

  "Not good enough," he interrupted. "I want you out of the house by the time I'm back at dinner tonight. I don't care where in hell you go, but it won’t be here!"

  Chapter Forty-four

  Hanna watched her son and his girlfriend paddle their kayaks up ahead through another channel in the marshes behind Pawleys Island. She had let her own kayak drift back to give the two of them some time alone. She was genuinely pleased with Jonathan's new friend. Elizabeth was a smart and cordial young woman and she obviously had strong feelings for Jonathan.

  Hanna had been struggling to put the memory of her call this morning from Alex in the back of her mind and not ruin this beautiful day with her son. The finality of it all was the most upsetting. She had been holding on to a distant possibility that things could work out with Alex Frank. The phone call from his ex-wife had dashed any of those hopes and she had made that clear with Alex this morning. Her track record with men continued the pattern of deep feelings, hopeful commitment, vulnerability, and in the end, crushing disappointment.

  Jonathan and Elizabeth disappeared around a bend in the channel ahead. Hanna took in the early morning serenity of the water, the flowing grasses pushing in a light wind from the west, the smells of Low Country life all around her. A dock came into view ahead on the left leading back to shore. An expansive green lawn led to a shaded house up in the live oak and pines. Hanna watched as a woman walked out on the dock and stood facing away from her, obviously taking in the beautiful view before them back toward the mainland. The woman was dressed in a long flowing dress. Her long hair was a deep reddish brown. She stood barefoot and seemed not to notice as Hanna approached on the far side of the channel.

  When Hanna came abreast of the woman, she saw her turn and they made eye contact for the first time. Hanna felt a chill rush through her as the woman smiled back and waved. Her face was familiar, yet she couldn't remember where she'd seen her before.

  "Good morning," Hanna called out.

  The woman just continued to smile and didn't respond.

  As Hanna paddled past, she looked back again and was stunned to see the woman was gone. There was no sign of her anywhere. The long dock was empty. There were no ripples or waves on the water where she might have fallen or jumped in, just the calm glassy surface of the channel.

  Hanna sat across from Jonathan and Elizabeth on the outdoor deck of the restaurant that looked out over the marshes behind the island. The server had just left cold draft beers in front of them and taken their orders of fried grouper sandwiches for lunch.

  Jonathan lifted his beer in a toast. "Thank you for having us out for the weekend, Mom." They all touched glasses.

  "I wish you would come more often," Hanna said. "Elizabeth, what do you think of Pawleys Island?"

  "It's wonderful! Do you mind if I never leave?" She laughed and sipped at her beer.

  "Stay as long as you like, dear," Hanna said.

  Jonathan said, "Mom, we wanted to share some news with you."

  Hanna's first thought was an engagement, though she didn't see a ring on Elizabeth's finger. "And what news would that be," she said with both excitement and a little trepidation.

  "Elizabeth and I are planning to take next term and study in Spain."

  Hanna was relieved to hear the two of them weren't jumping too quickly into plans for marriage. She thought for a moment and then said, "I think that sounds wonderful."

  "We're just starting to make plans," Elizabeth said. "Do you think you could come and visit while we're there?"

  Jonathan continued, "Barcelona looks fabulous, Mom."

  "Absolutely," Hanna said. "Just keep me posted on your plans and we'll make it work. I need a break from South Carolina." She tried not to think about her father and Alex Frank and Jenna Hall, and all the troubled cases she had waiting for her back in Charleston. Today was too grand to let herself get dragged down again in the realities of all that was churning in her life.

  She suddenly remembered the lone woman on the dock back in the marshes and felt the goosebumps flush across her skin again, how familiar the woman's face had been, her sudden disappearance.

  Hanna turned to Jonathan and asked, "Just before we got to the boat ramp, back around the bend, did you see the woman out on the dock? She was wearing a long dress."

  Jonathan looked at Elizabeth and the two of them shook their heads. Jonathan said, "Didn't see anyone out of the marshes all morning."

  Hanna said, "It was the strangest thing. She was there and then when I looked back she was just gone."

  Jonathan laughed and said, "Sounds like your ghost is back!"

  As Hanna prepared dinner than night back at the beach house, she started thinking again about the woman on the dock. She couldn't get her face out of her head. A thought came to her and she walked through the dining room and into the long room across the beach side of the house. On a wall next to the fireplace, she walked up to an old framed photo. It had been a gift from the woman who now owned Tanglewood Plantation, the property Hanna's family had owned back in the 1800's.

  She looked at the faded photo now and saw the gathering of a large family in front of the old plantation house. The men were dressed in Confederate Army uniforms and the women in traditional dress of the day. In the middle of the grouping was a young woman who Hanna had learned was her distant great-grandmother, Amanda Paltierre Atwell. She had her arm linked with her husband, Captain Jeremy Atwell.

  Hanna pushed closer and looked at the woman in the photo. She knew what she was going to see even before the face came into focus. The woman on the dock.

  Chapter Forty-five

  The drive from Dugganville to Charleston was slow with early traffic heading into the city. Alex watched the crawl of cars ahead of him on Highway 17. He had a meeting with his father's lawyer, Phillip Holloway, and then they were going to visit Skipper Frank at the County jail. His thoughts, though, were on his last conversation with Adrienne before he left the house.

  He shook his head and thought about her treachery in calling Hanna and not bothering to tell him about it. When she showed up at his door after a fight with her mother, he should have walked her back home right then. His emotions had been swirling through a mostly sleepless night as his ex-wife slept in the bedroom beside his.

  Alex knew in his heart he would do what was right by his son. He just couldn't imagine a path that would allow Adrienne back in. His feelings for her were so jumbled. They had been deeply in love in the early years and he knew some of that still lingered, despite her betrayal and behavior while he'd been away in the service. And then, there was Hanna.

  He was so distracted in his thoughts, he had to slam on his brakes and swerve onto the shoulder of the road to avoid hitting a car making a left turn in front of him. He slapped his hands on the steering wheel and cursed silently.

  Alex met Phillip Holloway in the lobby of the Charleston County Jail. They took two seats against the wall to talk.

  Phillip started right in. "This knife evidence is going to take him down, Alex."

  "I know."

  "Have you found out anything else that can help?"

  Alex felt his heart sink in his chest, knowing he'd found no other solid explanation for Horton Bayes' murder. He shared the news about the previous night's drug arrest aboard the Bayes' shrimp trawler.

  Holloway stood, "Let's see what your father has to say about all this."

  Alex and Phillip stood when Skipper Frank was led into the small interview room. The guard unlocked one of the hand-cuffs and secured it to a chain ring on the heavy metal table, then left them alone. Alex was not surprised by his father's desperate look. He appeared to have had little s
leep and his face was gaunt and pale with several day's gray beard. His hair was combed straight back, shiny and unwashed. He looked up at his son and lawyer through bloodshot eyes.

  Alex said, "You look like hell."

  "Nice to see you, too."

  Holloway pulled some papers from his bag and placed them on the table. "We have some bad news."

  "It gets worse?" the elder Frank asked.

  Alex said, "Pop, the divers found your knife under your boat."

  "My knife?"

  Alex showed him the picture of the knife on his cell phone.

  Holloway said, "They will be able to identify it as your knife, we're quite certain."

  "What the hell's it doing under the boat?" Skipper asked, his face showing sudden concern.

  "We were hoping you could tell us," Alex said. "There's likely blood trace from Horton Bayes on the knife, Pop."

  The old man's head slumped down. He pressed his hands together in a tight grip, but he didn't speak.

  "Pop?"

  He finally looked up and said, "I was up most of the night again trying to think through all that happened."

  "And?" Alex asked.

  Skipper looked up at his son. "I remember going to Bayes' boat after the fight."

  Phillip and Alex looked at the man and waited for him to continue.

  "We got into it again."

  "What happened?" the lawyer asked.

  Skipper took a deep breath, then said, "I remember a lot of pushing and yelling." He paused.

  "What else?" Alex asked.

  "Bayes' old lady came down and got between us."

  "What!" Alex said. "Meryl Bayes was there?"

  His father nodded. "Yeah, she must have come looking for Horton down at the boat after he didn't come home from the bar."

  Holloway asked, "And you're sure she was there on the boat with you?"

  "I don't know..."

  "You need to be sure!" the lawyer pressed.

  "The whole night's still a damn blur, but I can remember now, Meryl was yelling at me to go home and pushing me down the dock."

  Alex looked over at his father's lawyer. "Why in hell hasn't she told us about this?"

  Two hours later, Alex stood on the porch of the Bayes' house back in Dugganville with Sheriff Pepper Stokes. The sheriff knocked on the door for the second time when they heard footsteps coming. Meryl Bayes pulled open the door and looked through the screen. She was still in an old plaid robe and her hair was pulled up in a red scarf around her head.

  "What?" she said, not opening the door.

  "We need a few minutes, Meryl," the sheriff said.

  She pushed open the screen door to let them in and led them over to a small living room with a couch and two chairs arranged around a television on a low wood table against the far wall. The house smelled damp and close, the furniture worn and cluttered with clothes and magazines. The two men sat across from her as she made room to sit on the couch.

  The sheriff started, "Meryl, we need to ask you about the night of Horton's death."

  Alex saw anger flare in her eyes, then she said, "What more do you want?" she hissed with a low smoky voice. "We've been through this how many times?"

  Stokes said, "We're curious why you haven't told us about seeing Skipper Frank down at your boat the night of the murder."

  She scrunched her eyes and pushed some loose hair away from her face. Her hands were starting to shake. and she held them in the lap of her robe. Finally, she said, "I told you everything."

  "No, you didn't," Alex said. "You saw Skipper again down at the boat and broke up another fight between the two of them."

  She looked back and didn't answer, a confused look coming across her face.

  Alex continued, "You got between them and forced my father to leave. You pushed him down the dock to leave."

  She didn't respond.

  "Meryl?" the sheriff probed.

  She took a deep raspy breath and started shaking her head. She reached for cigarettes and a lighter on the coffee table and lit one, blowing smoke to the side. "Yeah, he was there earlier. They were going it at it again."

  "And why didn't you say anything about this?" Alex asked, the anger in his voice clear.

  She looked away out the front window of the house, then said, "I don't know. It was a terrible night. I thought I'd told you everything. I did see Skipper earlier at the LuLu Belle after the fight at Gilly's. He was as drunk as Horton and they were pushing each other around again. I got Skipper out of there, but he must have come back later. I couldn't get Horton to come home with me. He wanted to sleep it off on the boat."

  Stokes said, "Meryl, you didn't tell us this."

  "I'm sorry," she said, tears starting to well up in her eyes. Then, a look of anger came across her face and she looked straight at Alex. "Your old man killed my husband! He came back and killed Horton!"

  Chapter Forty-six

  Hanna was beginning to doubt her sanity. Maybe it was stress or lack of sleep, but two encounters with the ghost of her great-grandmother was more than she could get her head around.

  Jonathan and Elizabeth had gone for a walk on the beach. Hanna was making a salad with local shrimp for dinner. She was tempted to open a bottle of wine but poured a glass of iced tea instead. If it wasn't ghosts, she couldn't stop thinking about Alex Frank. She knew in her heart she had to move on and put all of that behind her, another lesson in commitments gone bad.

  Hanna heard her house guests coming in from the beach. Enough about ghosts and old boyfriends!

  During dinner around the big dining room table, Jonathan said, "Elizabeth and I need to head back first thing in the morning."

  Hanna looked up, disappointed. "I thought you were able to go back Monday morning."

  "I'm sorry, Hanna," Elizabeth said. "I got a call from work and they need me to take a shift tomorrow afternoon."

  "Of course," Hanna said, trying to mask her feelings. The thought of being alone again in the big beach house was not appealing. She was thinking about heading back to Charleston early, too, to get back on her caseload when Jonathan stood to start clearing the dishes.

  "Any more visits from the ghost of Amanda?" Jonathan asked.

  Hanna frowned. "I think I need a good night's sleep. I truly think I'm starting to lose my mind with all that's going on with your grandfather and the cases we've been handling."

  "And Alex Frank," Jonathan added. She had told him about the breakup.

  She nodded.

  Jonathan said, "I like Alex a lot too, mom, but sounds like there's just too much baggage there. You'll meet someone new... a catch like you!"

  "Yeah, right."

  After dinner, Hanna left the others back at the house to take a walk on the beach and watch the sunset. A cool wind from the east had kicked up and the waves had grown through the evening, now crashing loudly along the shoreline. She looked up when she noticed a sailboat making its way south in the rough water, sails down under power about a quarter mile out. The big boat rose and fell slowly in the long swells of the ocean.

  The boat's slow progress up the face of one wave and then fast rush down the other side reminded her of the old adage about a "following sea". In a gentler wind, a boat's progress downwind can be a calm and enjoyable ride, but as the wind builds and the waves grow, the same downwind tack can be the most dangerous course of all as large following waves can threaten to turn and sink even the most skilled sailor.

  She watched the boat make its way precariously on through the growing seas, silently wishing them a safe return to port.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Meryl Bayes was working on a flower box on the front of their house in Dugganville. Alex saw her back turned to him as he parked his car and got out. Meryl was a stout woman, nearing sixty. She was dressed in loose faded jeans and a torn Atlanta Falcons t-shirt. She had made no effort to hide the gray in her hair. When his car door closed, she turned and saw him comin
g up the walk.

  Her face was flushed and sweaty from the work. She wiped at her forehead with the back of her arm. "Don't have nothin' more to say to the cops," she said with a gravelly voice.

  "Just need a minute, Meryl." Alex said, standing now a few feet from the woman. "Sheriff Stokes says you're telling the DEA you knew nothing about Horton and your son running drugs."

  "Get out of here," she hissed.

  "Hard to believe your boat could be running drugs and you knew nothing about it."

  She took her dirty work gloves off and threw them in a garden cart next to the house. "Like I told them cops earlier, my boys had nothing to do with those damn drugs. It's your friend, Chaz Merton, got my son mixed up in this last night. They were supposed to be runnin' shrimp."

  Alex said, "Meryl, I hear Horton wasn't making a go of it shrimping and needed to find a way to make some extra money."

  "Who told you that damned lie? Your old man?"

  She started to walk away, muttering under her breath.

  "Meryl, wait," he said, following after her. "There's something else that I've been having a problem with."

  She climbed the first step to the front door, then turned to face him.

  Alex continued, "The night of Horton's murder, you say you went down to the boat and found my father and Horton getting into a fight again."

  "That's right, they were really goin' at it."

  "So, how'd you get between two big men like that and get them apart, get my dad to leave?"

  Meryl hesitated and looked away.

  Alex said, "Two men trying to kill each other, and you break it up?"

  She looked back at Alex. "Those two were so drunk, I could have knocked 'em both over. I just kept yellin' and pushin' til they backed off."

  "Do you remember seeing my dad's knife in the scabbard on his belt when he left?"

  She seemed confused and just stared back at him.

  "Meryl, the knife?" Alex insisted.