At first he didn’t answer. Then he gestured toward the intersection at the bottom of the hill.
“I needed some things at the hardware store.” His dark eyes narrowed, scanning the crowds. He seemed uneasy. “Where’s your friend?”
“Getting something to eat.” Carolyn hesitated, then said, “Do you want to have lunch with us?”
“I can’t. I have too much to do.”
He was making her nervous, and Carolyn glanced anxiously at the food carts. She could see Andy paying at the register, and then she saw his quick double take as he noticed who she was talking to.
“Are you sure?” she asked Joss again. “We could find a table somewhere and sit down.”
He shook his head and stepped back. He ran one hand through his hair, and his gaze traveled slowly up the sidewalk, where it suddenly stopped. Carolyn followed the direction of his stare and saw Molly sagging tiredly in the library window.
“I have to go,” Joss said abruptly. “I’ll see you back at the house.”
To Carolyn’s dismay, he headed into the crowds. By the time Andy returned, Joss had completely disappeared.
“Hey,” Andy said, coming up with three bulging sacks of food. “Where’s your friend?”
“He had to go,” Carolyn replied uneasily.
“Thought he was too busy to come in today.”
“He needed some things at the store,” Carolyn said. She bit into the taco Andy gave her, but she was still staring at the crowds. Not a trace of Joss.
“Well,” Andy teased, chewing thoughtfully on an enchilada and making a face, “he doesn’t know what he’s missing. All this good grease.”
“He seemed kind of nervous,” Carolyn said, missing the joke.
“Yeah? Wonder why?”
Carolyn shook her head and reached for Andy’s arm.
“Can we find someplace to sit down? I want to tell you what happened last night.”
She waved again to Molly as they passed the library, and felt Andy nudge her as he pointed to a spot up the street.
“Look—there’s a bench. Grab it!”
They hurried over before anyone else came along, then sat down and spread out their picnic between them.
Carolyn stared at Andy and sighed.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t even know what’s going on. It sounds stupid when I try to put it into words.”
Andy groaned. “I knew it. Joss asked you to run away with him, and you’re going.”
“What?” Carolyn pulled back in surprise. “No!”
“Hmmm,” Andy mused, studying her face. “But you blushed just now, so something tells me I’m not going to hear every detail about what happened last night.”
Carolyn pointedly ignored him. “I fell off the widow’s walk. In the middle of the storm.”
“What!” Now it was Andy’s turn to look surprised. “What—are you crazy, Carolyn? What were you doing up there in the first place—don’t you know that thing’s falling apart?”
“I know, I know, you don’t have to remind me. Just be quiet, and let me finish.”
Andy settled back on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest, nodding at her to go on. Carolyn told the story as simply and factually as she could—the attic door—the voice—the light—her fall—her rescue. She left out the part about Joss’s kiss.
“As much as I hate to say it”—Andy sighed—“I guess it was a good thing Joss was there.”
Carolyn didn’t answer.
Andy looked down at their lunch. Now that Carolyn had finished her story, they’d both lost their appetites.
“Where’s this guy from?” Andy finally asked.
“I don’t know. He’s just a drifter. I don’t know anything about him. Except that he’s … I don’t know. Strange.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Andy said softly, “You’re afraid of him, aren’t you.”
Carolyn hesitated … nodded.
“You don’t know anything about him,” Andy went on carefully.
“No.”
“Except that he saved your life.”
“He might have saved my life, but he still gives me the creeps.”
“Then tell him to leave,” Andy said reasonably. “I’m not real keen on the idea of him being in the house alone with you anyway.”
“Well … Mom seemed to think he was okay—she wanted him to stay.”
“Yeah, well, don’t forget what happened to the captain’s wife when she let her drifter stay.”
At Carolyn’s startled expression, Andy reached over and gave her a playful hug.
“I’m kidding! It’s a joke! Look”—he sighed—“I just want you to be careful, that’s all. Your mom’s gonna see the positive side of anything if it means she can get that house ready for business.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business and I shouldn’t be so critical—I don’t know the guy, either, but if you feel that uncomfortable about him, then you should tell him to leave.”
“I can’t just tell him that.”
“Sure you can. You look at him, and you smile, and you say, ‘Joss, leave.’”
“It’s not that simple, Andy. We really need Joss there. We need him to finish the house.”
“Nothing’s worth that, and you know it. Nothing’s worth being afraid—especially in your own house.”
“Well, I can’t do it,” Carolyn said miserably. “Not after he saved Mom’s life and mine, too.”
She stared down at her uneaten food. Then she wadded everything up in the greasy paper and angrily stuffed it into the litter can behind their bench.
“Come on, Carolyn, you’ve got to eat,” Andy coaxed, but she shook her head and stood up. “Great”—Andy sighed—“now you’re mad.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Carolyn shook her head adamantly. “No, I’m not. And if I am, it’s only at myself. Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind, Andy—I don’t know what to think about anything, and I’m suspicious of everything! I’m not even sure the things I heard last night were real. Or the things I saw that first night, either. Sometimes I can’t tell anymore if I’m awake or asleep. I mean, maybe you’re not real—maybe I’m dreaming you right now.”
She took off up the hill and heard him running after her.
“Carolyn, wait up. Hey, don’t be like that.”
“Be like what? Confused? Scared? This whole thing is so stupid and mixed up, I can’t stand it.”
She kicked angrily at a rock and watched it bounce against a nearby building. Several passersby turned to stare at her, and after a brief moment of indecision, Andy put his arm around her shoulders.
“Look, Carolyn, have I brought this up before? Grief—moving—worry—mom in hospital—you’ve been under a ton of stress. Not to mention the fact that your house is falling down around your ears, and you inherited a housekeeper who’s the spitting image of your worst nightmare.”
Carolyn kept walking but managed a smile at the last remark.
“So give yourself permission to feel a little vulnerable right now. A little mixed-up. A little bit paranoid.”
Believing makes you vulnerable.…
Carolyn stopped, frowning. Andy gave her a gentle shake and leaned in close to her face.
“Hey … you fading out on me? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I mean … just something Joss said once.”
“Joss again.” Andy groaned. “Now I’m getting paranoid.”
He stopped walking and pulled her back to face him. His blue eyes crinkled up, and his irresistible grin slowly widened. He pulled her close in a bear hug and planted a firm kiss on her cheek.
“Come on. Let’s have some fun, what do you say?”
His arms were warm and strong. Don’t think about Joss.… Pressed against him, Carolyn felt wonderfully and incredibly safe. I refuse to think about Joss.… She shifted just enough to peer into Andy’s face, and then she smiled.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
“Don’t thank me.”
“No, I really mean it.”
“I know you do, but don’t thank me anyway.”
He laughed and let her go, grabbing her hand and dragging her up the street.
“Where are we going?” Carolyn asked, trying to keep up as the incline grew steeper.
“You wanted to know about the history of your house, didn’t you?” Andy teased.
“Yes, but what’s up here?”
“The churchyard.”
“What?”
“You heard me. The churchyard. Where Carolyn Glanton is buried.”
“Do I really want to see this?” Carolyn asked uncertainly.
“Sure you do. It’s the prettiest place in the whole village.”
Carolyn had her doubts, but when they finally reached the top of the hill, she had to admit Andy was right. The little church was set far back from the road on a secluded side street, its weathered stone walls surrounded by thick green foliage, its steeple rising and disappearing into a leafy canopy of trees. Surprisingly, there were no tourists up this way. The air was very still, and birds sang softly overhead. As Andy led the way around the building, Carolyn saw the low stone wall enclosing the side yard of the church, and the uneven rows of crumbling headstones resting quietly in the cool shadows.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, and Andy nodded, smiling.
“Didn’t I tell you? It’s the oldest building on the island, and probably the most peaceful spot.”
“Do people still get buried here?”
He shook his head and held out his hand to her, leading her deeper and deeper through the graves.
“These are also the oldest residents of the island. There’s a new cemetery over on the mainland where all the locals have to be buried now. This one’s full.”
Carolyn could hardly speak, she was so overcome with its beauty. She followed Andy silently, weaving in and out between the ancient markers, and when they finally neared the back of the yard, he let go of her hand and hurried ahead.
“It’s right over here!” he hissed back over her shoulder. “It’s one of the prettiest graves in the whole place. Legend says that for years and years someone left flowers at her grave on the eve of Carolyn’s death—and no one ever found out who it was.”
Carolyn shivered. The story was romantic but also unnerving. She’d had enough of ghostly things to last a lifetime; she wanted to stay in the real world for a while.
“Andy,” she called softly, “I don’t think I want to see it. Let’s go back.”
She waited for him to answer, but there was only silence.
“Andy?” she tried again. “Are you trying to scare me?”
Carolyn stopped in her tracks and slowly wrapped her arms around herself, her voice going thin and tight.
“Andy, stop it. You just said I’m stressed out, so why are you playing this stupid game with—”
He burst through the shrubbery so unexpectedly that she screamed and jumped away.
“Andy! What are you trying to … Andy?”
Alarmed, she stared into his too-white face. He was gesturing behind him, but no sound was coming from his open mouth.
“Andy?” Carolyn’s voice shook. “What is it?”
All he could do was point. Spurred by some morbid curiosity, Carolyn pushed past him and swept the low-hanging branches aside, only to stop again a few yards farther with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She saw the marker on the ground before her … saw the inscription, dark and stained, yet still readable after all these many years …
BELOVED CAROLYN
But it wasn’t the inscription that held her there, that froze the scream rising fast in her throat—
It was the grave.
The grave below Carolyn Glanton’s headstone …
The long, muddy hole that yawned black … and deep … and empty.
18
“WELL …” ANDY SIGHED, PAUSING ON THE SIDEWALK outside the sheriff’s office. “You’ve got to admit, when I promise a girl a good time, I always supply plenty of excitement.”
Carolyn threw him a look, and he grinned sheepishly.
“Okay, okay, not funny. And I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. There are better ways to spend a weekend than being interrogated like two criminals.”
“They know it wasn’t us, Andy,” Carolyn said, trying to make him feel better. “They said it was probably a prank.” She shook her head angrily as they started down the street. “A prank! Who in their right mind would do such a horrible thing?”
“Well, they didn’t say whoever did it was in his right mind,” Andy corrected her.
“It’s sick,” Carolyn muttered. “It makes me sick just thinking about it.”
They walked several blocks in silence before Carolyn stopped and took his hand.
“I’m sorry, Andy. You’re the one who found it in the first place. You’re the one who got the shock.”
“The worst shock was when I almost fell in,” Andy said truthfully.
They looked at each other, and then they both burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny,” Carolyn insisted. “But if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.” She leaned up against a streetlamp and covered her face with her hands. “Why now, Andy? Why does this have to happen now? After everything else that’s happened in that stupid house—”
“Oh, come on, it’s a coincidence,” Andy soothed her. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“And you really believe that?”
He grew quiet. He watched as she uncovered her face … as she gazed pleadingly back at him.
“Festivals always bring out the worst in people,” he teased. “What do you bet it was a dare? Kids at a party or out riding around, having a little too much fun—hey, it could even have been some weird kind of scavenger hunt. It could have been anyone’s grave they fooled around with—”
“But it wasn’t,” Carolyn said firmly. “They picked Carolyn’s grave, and they must have picked it for a reason.”
“Yeah. It’s the one most isolated, the farthest back from traffic, and the least noticeable!”
She looked like she wanted to believe him but couldn’t quite manage it.
“You really think so?” she asked.
Andy threw his hands up in the air. “Well, why else? And if you mention ghosts one more time, I’ll make you walk all the way home!”
This time she smiled. She leaned against him, and he felt her shiver.
“Cold?” Andy drew her close and hugged her.
“Sort of. But mostly just wondering where she is.”
“Where who is?”
“You know,” Carolyn said seriously. “Carolyn Glanton. Where is she now? Where did they take her?”
“God, you’re morbid.” It was Andy’s turn to shiver now, and they started walking again. “There couldn’t be much left of her, could there? I mean, it has been a long time—we’re talking a century here, at least—”
“But they took her coffin, too.”
“There probably wasn’t a coffin. After all this time, it’s probably gone. I have a feeling, whoever dug up that grave was really disappointed once they got in there.” He gazed at her a minute, then shuddered again. “Can we not talk about this anymore, please? I’m going to have nightmares for a month.”
Carolyn forced a smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t want to ruin the rest of their day, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Carolyn Glanton’s grave. Coincidence? Andy’s explanation made sense, she supposed, yet her own instincts told her something else—something dark and dangerous—something that made her suspicious and afraid.
“You game for the Ferris wheel?” Andy interrupted her thoughts, and Carolyn was surprised to see that they’d walked all the way to the carnival at the other end of the village.
She nodded and forced a smile. “If you are. I better warn you, though—F
erris wheels make me queasy.”
Andy gave her a look of mock horror. “After what we just went through, what could make you queasier than that?”
“You’re absolutely right,” Carolyn said determinedly. “Let’s go have some fun.”
The rest of the day flew by. Andy kept Carolyn so busy that she didn’t have time to think about grave robbers—or any of her other worries. By evening she was sure they’d ridden every ride, eaten at least one of every kind of food, inspected every single craft, tried their skill at every game, and walked at least a hundred miles back and forth through the village.
Exhausted, they found an empty table at a sidewalk café. Dusk was beginning to fall, but the festival continued around them, noise and laughter and music echoing through the shadows. One by one streetlamps blinked on, while colorful lanterns danced gaily above them in the night breeze. Carolyn yawned and stretched. She sipped her cappuccino while Andy leaned back in his seat and smiled at her.
“Happy?”
“I’ve had the best time. I don’t want it to end.”
“Well, you’re in luck—it doesn’t happen to end officially till tomorrow.” His face brightened, and he leaned toward her. “Not only that, I’ve got a great idea. I’m taking a boatload of tourists out for a sunset cruise tomorrow evening. Why don’t you come?”
Carolyn smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ll probably be too tired to do anything.”
“It’ll be beautiful,” Andy promised. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
She laughed and finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
He looked so pleased that she reached over and took his hand. He moved even closer and bent his head against hers.
“Better be careful,” he said in a dramatic whisper. “People might think we’re involved.”
Carolyn laughed again. “Well, we are sort of involved, aren’t we—involved in some really strange things we didn’t expect to—”
She broke off and sat rigid in her chair. Andy grimaced and tried to pry his hand out of her sudden grip.
“Ouch—hey—do you mind—I need that hand—”
“Andy, is that Joss?”
“What?” Andy wheeled around in his seat and tried to follow the direction of her gaze. “Where?”
The Drifter Page 12