It wasn't Derek. Nor was it an advertiser. The sender listed indicated it was Glen Brewster, my dead brother. What type of sick joke was this? I still had Glen's cell programmed into my contacts. I'd never thought to delete it, or maybe I subconsciously felt deleting it would make his death real. That's how he would explain it to me if I were one of his patients.
“Why are you going to Sea Scope, Silly Sarah?” read the black words against the white screen. I recognized the childhood nickname Glen called me.
I wanted to delete the message and pretend I'd never received it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Should I tell Carolyn? Share it with Aunt Julie? More importantly, who was using Glen's phone? After Glen's accident in California, his body was transported back to Long Island. Because Mother and I couldn't bring ourselves to sort through his belongings, Aunt Julie had flown to California and gone through the items in his apartment. As far as I knew, the cell phone had never turned up. When Glen's motorcycle overturned on an L.A. highway, it may have flown from his jacket or been pocketed by someone at the scene. Mom said she called the company and had the service cancelled, but I wasn't sure she did. She suffered her second breakdown a short time later.
“Sarah, are you all right?” Carolyn sprinted over to me. “I finished eating and thought I'd catch up with you.” She glanced at the phone in my hand.
“Did you get a message?”
I cleared the screen. “No. I was just checking. I'm turning it off again. We should get back on the road.”
I wondered if Carolyn knew I was lying. I cycled down the phone and turned in the direction of the parking lot.
Carolyn followed without a word.
Chapter Five
Sea Scope
Julie Brewster wasn't surprised her first guest arrived a day early. Wanda Wilson still lived in Cape Bretton and was one of her best friends despite the fact the woman was young enough to be her daughter. In fact, there were times Julie thought of Wanda as the child she'd never had. She knew Wanda reciprocated the feeling because Wanda's parents, traditional Southern Blacks, had evicted her from their home when she became pregnant at sixteen by a married white man.
There was a period, before the tragic lighthouse incident, when Wanda and her daughter, Wendy, lived at Sea Scope. Wanda couldn't afford to pay for room and board but made it up by accepting a job as the inn's housekeeper. The young woman worked hard keeping the rooms clean, checking in guests, and helping Julie cook and serve breakfast. Julie recognized in Wanda the toughness that was part of her own personality and rewarded her with glowing recommendations for positions in Hilton Head resorts when Sea Scope closed. Julie and Wanda ended up working together again briefly at one resort. She was a comfort to Julie when her brother took his life and again when her nephew Glen was killed in a motorcycle accident. However, Wanda and Julie drifted apart the last two years after Wendy had divorced and moved back home. Julie was looking forward to catching up with Wanda and that's why she was eager to include her old housekeeper as one of the inn's first guests upon its reopening. She also knew Sarah would be pleased to see Wanda again.
Julie was in the living room dusting and rearranging the furniture when the bell rang. Most visitors to Sea Scope used the brass door knocker in the shape of a ship's anchor, but the bell was useful because it was easier to hear from the upstairs rooms. Julie had it installed after the inn closed and she was living alone in the house.
Opening the door, she smiled. “I had a feeling you'd come early. So good to see you, Wanda.”
The woman on the doorstep, in her late forties, retained a youthful appearance. Her ebony-colored skin bore no wrinkles, and her large, dark eyes were lit with energy. She rested her hand on a rolling suitcase that featured a floral tapestry design. As soon as she saw Julie, she let go of her bag and threw her arms around her. “I've missed you, Julie. I'm here to help you prepare for the big event.”
Julie chuckled. She held Wanda at arm's length. The woman was tall even wearing flats under her ankle-length skirt. Despite the eighty-degree heat, she wore a light traveling coat over her sleeveless blouse.
“Don't you think about helping me. You were invited as a guest, and I would hardly call this a big event, although it's very special to me. The actual opening, as I explained when I called you, will be in the fall. You might consider this the cocktail party before the wedding reception.”
Wanda grinned, her snow-white teeth standing out in contrast to her dark face. “It's still exciting, my dear. Now will you please let me in, so I can check your arrangements? I peeked in the backyard and saw that your garden is in full bloom. You'll need flowers in every room. I also brought recipes for the guests.”
Julie took a step back to allow her friend to enter. “Most of the rooms are still closed off, Wanda. We're only having four guests including you. Think of this as a vacation. I'm so glad you could get the time off to make it, although I know you can only stay two weeks.”
Wanda entered pulling her suitcase behind her.
“Let me take that.” Julie put her hand out, but Wanda waved it away. “I can handle this fine. Have you placed me in my old room?”
“Of course.” Julie knew Wanda would be partial to the peach-colored room on the second floor. Like the Gold Room, it was a cheerful place that took best advantage of the light on that side of the inn. The Peach Room was actually a small suite with a connecting door. While Wanda and Wendy had slept in the main room, the second room had been converted into a playroom for Wendy when she was young. Wanda always welcomed Sarah and Glen in there, especially on rainy days, so her daughter could have playmates. Sarah and Glen didn't have an official playroom at the inn; instead, they considered all of Sea Scope their own private playground. After they'd moved away, the place became silent. At night, alone in the empty house, Julie imagined she still heard tiny footsteps stamping up and down the stairs and echoes of giggles that were long gone.
The thump of Wanda's suitcase across the hall tiles as she rolled it toward the stairs drew Julie from her reverie. “Are you sure you can manage?”
“I'm fine. I'll take my stuff upstairs and then meet you in the living room, and we can catch up a bit.”
“I'm looking forward to that. I'll make iced tea. I picked up your favorite Jasmine Spice from the tea shop in town.”
“Sounds lovely, dear.”
They decided to sit on the porch to talk while sipping their drinks. Julie had also brought out fruit and a few muffins.
“I apologize I didn't bake these,” she said as she placed a basket on the table between their rockers, a tray holding the iced tea carafe, two small glasses, and the fruit bowl.
Wanda smiled as she picked a handful of red and green grapes. “No worries. I'm watching my diet, anyway. I brought along recipes for healthful and low-calorie baked goods. They were a great success in Hilton Head.”
“I'm sure they'll be delicious, unlike those commercial diet cakes.” Julie made a face as she poured the tea into the glasses and then sat next to her friend. “Not that you need to worry about your weight. You don't look a pound more than when you worked here twenty years ago.”
Wanda bit into the grapes and swallowed them down with a gulp of tea. “It was much easier in those days. I was always running after Wendy, but ever since I hit forty, it takes daily workouts to keep trim.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin from the tray. Julie noticed she'd removed the traces of grape on her lips without smudging her bright red lipstick.
“So, tell me what this is all about, dear?” Wanda had taken another gulp of tea and directed her eyes on her host.
Julie drank a lingering sip of tea to postpone her reply. Lowering the glass, she said, “I already told you, Wanda. I'm retired, and I need another source of income. This place is way too big for me. There's no reason why I shouldn't take advantage of it and open it to guests again.”
Before Wanda could comment, there was a noise from behind them, and Al scooted on to the patio. Waving his tail high, he ap
proached the rockers. His golden eyes scanned the women, and he let out a low “meow.”
“Al,” Wanda exclaimed as the cat came to rub against her ankles, his head lifting the hem of her skirt to caress them. “How did you get out here?”
Julie laughed, a bit relieved that Al made his appearance before Wanda could say anything negative about her plans. “I installed a cat door a few months ago because he was constantly crying to go in and out every few minutes. He never goes very far, but he loves the porch. He finds a sunny spot and sunbathes.”
Wanda scratched the cat's head. “Good to see you, old boy.” Wanda was an animal lover, even though she didn't have any herself. When she'd stayed at the inn, she'd asked Julie why she didn't keep pets there. She thought a dog at the inn would be an asset for protection as well as company for the younger guests, but Julie was always afraid of people's allergies. It was only after the inn closed that Julie got a cat and installed an alarm system in the house. She paid a monthly fee for keeping it monitored by the Cape Bretton police, but she was embarrassed to admit she hardly used it. Now that she was opening it to guests, she would start setting the alarm after ten p.m. After the menacing note she'd received a few weeks ago, she had even started using it while she was home alone.
“I understand your idea about supplementing your pension, Julie,” Wanda said as Al left her and went over to his mistress. “There might be better ways. You could sell this place and move into a smaller house. You're very talented with art. If you promoted your work more, you could make a nice income.”
Julie shook her head as she put her hand down to pat Al. “I've spent my life in the hospitality industry. My parents opened the inn. It's a family tradition I'd like to maintain. I can't let old shadows stop me.”
“Your parents and your brother are gone. You don't have any children. There's no one to pass the inn down to.”
Al suddenly raced away in pursuit of a wren he eyed in a bush. Julie watched as the bird flew off, and the cat gave up his chase. “I'd like to leave it to Sarah.”
Wanda put down her glass and gazed back at Julie. “Is she one of the guests that are joining us tomorrow? Is that your plan? If so, I can tell you it's not a good idea. Sarah hasn't been back here in twenty years. The poor girl experienced the fright of finding Michael's body. She was old enough to remember that day and young enough never to forget it.” Her voice rose from the gentle southern tone she usually used to one that Julie seldom heard.
“Calm down, Wanda. I'm not forcing this upon her. I don't plan to be dying anytime soon, although I'm turning seventy next week. However, when my time comes, I've put her in my will for inheriting Sea Scope. What she does with it is up to her. The reason I invited her this summer is because I haven't seen her since Glen's funeral, and I thought it would be a nice change for her to visit here. We have a lot to catch up on that can't be done over the phone or online. I was hoping her husband would accompany her, but she's bringing along an author friend instead. It doesn't matter. I'm planning to try my best to help her create new memories that will wipe out the old ones.”
Wanda put down her glass and stood up, pushing back the rocker. “Do you really think that's possible? I doubt it, but I'll help if I can. I'm going to gather flowers to arrange in the guest rooms. Will you join me?”
Chapter Six
On the Road to Sea Scope
Carolyn insisted on driving the rest of the way before we stopped for the night. She said she was concerned about how pale I looked and didn't mind taking over the wheel.
“I hope you're not coming down with something, Sarah,” she said when we got back in my car, and I handed her the keys.
“I'm fine, really. I can drive when you're tired.” I wasn't too sure of my words. Although the nausea had subsided, I was still in shock over the weird message I'd received on my phone. It lay closed in my purse. I wasn't even bothering to plug it into the car charger.
We made better time with Carolyn at the wheel, but she adjusted her speed in consideration of my stomach and to help us avoid a ticket or accident.
“I really don't mind driving long distances,” she said from beside me when we were back on the highway. “It's planes I can't stand. I hate the feeling of not being in control. When you fly, your fate is in the pilot's hands.”
I was tempted to repeat the argument about there being more road accidents than plane crashes, but I was relieved to sit back in the passenger seat. While I didn't love flying, I wasn't that wild about driving either, particularly at night. Thankfully, except for a few rest stops, Carolyn continued driving through the dark until she pulled us over at a motel somewhere in North Carolina.
“This should work for the night. I hope it's clean,” she said.
We'd brought overnight bags for our stop on the way to Sea Scope. We took them from the back seat after Carolyn parked the car.
The lobby of the Econo Lodge was plain and efficient looking. There was a young man at the check-in desk.
Before I could approach him, Carolyn cut in front of me and dug her credit card out of her wallet. She'd already arranged to pay for our overnight stay since we were using my car and gas, and she was getting free board at the inn.
“Good evening,” she said to the check-in clerk. “We need a room with two beds, please. Just for tonight.”
The man looked young, most likely a college student working part-time. His reddish hair was straight and neat. It hung to his ears. “Good evening, ladies,” he greeted. “Our doubles have twin beds. Check out is ten a.m.”
“We'll be leaving earlier,” Carolyn told him. She slipped her credit card on to the counter. “Can we pay now and leave our keys in the morning?”
The man nodded. “That's fine. If you use the Cable TV or phone, there will be an additional charge added to the card.”
“No problem.”
I stood next to Carolyn as the transaction was completed, and she took the printed receipt and two room key cards from the clerk. She handed me one. It said “105.”
“Head down the hall to the right,” the clerk directed us with a finger pointed toward the lobby. “Have a nice stay. We don't have a restaurant, but you can grab something at the Dunkin' Donuts across the street for breakfast.”
“Thanks,” we said in unison.
As we toted our bags down the hall, Carolyn remarked in a whisper, “It's pretty quiet here. I don't think they get many guests. That's not a good sign.”
“It's Thursday night, Carolyn. I'm sure more people will check in tomorrow for the weekend.”
The floorboards creaked under the thin carpet as we located our room. It was halfway down the hall, an identical beige door to its neighbor.
As Carolyn inserted the key card and waited for the green light, something I never had patience with, a woman about my mother's age and twice her weight came down the hall pushing a trolley full of bedding and towels.
“Good evening, ladies,” she smiled. “If you need anything during your stay, call room service.”
“Thank you,” Carolyn said as she managed to line up the card in the slot and simultaneously push the door open.
The lady passed, and I followed Carolyn into the room. It was sparse but clean with twin beds covered by plain, mud-colored bedspreads. The walls were the same dark cream beige as the hall and lobby. We placed our bags on the single chair by the door. Carolyn pulled aside the brown drapes and stood before the window looking out. “Parking lot view, of course.” She reclosed the drapes and turned to me. “I'll take this one if you don't mind.” She brought her case over and placed it on the bed closest to the window.
“Sure,” I told her as I sat on the bed by the door. The phone stood on the nightstand between us along with a plastic card listing the motel's phone directory and a small Bible.
“I'm going to freshen up and check out the bathroom, Sarah. Why don't you give Derek a call? You promised to do that when we stopped.” She opened her overnight bag and removed a large Ziploc of toiletries and
her pajamas.
“Thanks for reminding me,” I said as she took her bag and opened the door across from our beds.
Although I'd planned to call Derek, my mind was still on the crazy text I'd received. My heart began to race as I turned on my cell phone. Would there be another message from the person who was playing such a mean prank? How did they get Glen's phone, and how did he or she know the nickname my brother had called me as a child?
An electronic beep signaled my cell was awake and a message had been received while it was turned off. My heart was still beating fast. I was almost afraid to glance at the screen. As I'd ridden next to Carolyn the past eight hours, I'd had time to think about the message and what I should do about it. I'd considered calling the number to see who would answer, but even with Carolyn running the shower water, I was afraid to do that. A text would be easier. I could reply to the one that was sent and ask who was sending it and why they were pretending to be Glen. My other option was to ignore it and wait for the prankster to send something else. If the message I'd received was from Glen's phone, that decision had already been made.
I turned on the lamp by the bed and glanced at the screen. It wasn't from Glen's impersonator. It was from Derek.
Sarah, please don't forget to call. I'm thinking of you.
My heart was still racing but now for another reason. Maybe going away to give us breathing space had been a good idea after all.
I clicked the call icon next to Derek's name.
He answered on the first ring. “Sarah, I've been waiting for your call. Is everything okay? Where are you?”
“Hi, Derek. I'm fine. We're in North Carolina at an Econo Lodge.” I glanced down at the motel phone. “Room 105.” I added the room's direct line. “We'll only be here overnight. Carolyn wants to make an early start after breakfast tomorrow.”
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