Russell was the first to reply. “It doesn't matter to me. I get up early to write, anyway.”
“You're an author?” I noticed Carolyn had gradually slid closer to him since we'd arrived.
He smiled and turned her way. “Didn't Sarah fill you in about my father's books? She loved my showing them to her when we were young. I guess I followed in his footsteps, although I write fiction. I base all my books in South Carolina. My current one is taking place in Cape Bretton, but I'm changing some facts and calling it by another name.”
“How interesting,” Carolyn declared. “I'm an author, too. I write children's books. Sarah is my illustrator.”
“Sounds like we have something in common.” He winked at her, and I could see Carolyn was enjoying the attention. She seemed upset, though, when Wanda asked Russell, “What type of book are you writing about this town?”
He paused and looked across at her. “I write mysteries, Wanda.”
“I see. Can you share your plot with us, or is that bad luck before it's published?”
Carolyn brought Russ's attention back to her by saying, “Maybe Russell can share that with us tomorrow. I think Julie's right that it's time we head to our rooms and get some rest. I've been traveling all day, and my eyes are about to close.”
“Of course.” Wanda pursed her lips in the old way that I remembered when she had more to say but was keeping it to herself. “I'll help clean up while you all go upstairs.”
As she and Aunt Julie began gathering up the mugs, trays, and other garbage, my aunt said, “I appreciate that, Wanda. You've been so helpful, even though I consider you a guest. I don't expect you to do this the rest of your stay.”
“We're all guests,” I said, “but that doesn't mean we can't each give you a hand, Aunt Julie. I'll be happy to cook and clean while I'm here.”
“That's up to you. I'll welcome the help, but I want you to enjoy yourselves. If there's anything about your room or the inn that you feel should be changed, please let me know. Although I want everyone to consider this a vacation, it's also a test run for when I officially reopen the place to the public.”
I'd already noticed the repairs that needed to be done outside but hadn't looked too closely at the interior.
As Carolyn and I headed for the stairs, Russell was right behind us. “Do you ladies need your luggage taken out of your car tonight?”
I could still hear the rain battering against the windows. “It's pouring out, Russ, and we have everything we need in our overnight bags but thank you for asking.”
He smiled. “I don't mind going out in the rain for you, but if you don't need anything, I'll get your cases in the morning.”
At the corridor upstairs, I beckoned Carolyn to turn right. Russell was already headed left to the West Wing. He'd told me Aunt Julie had given him Michael's old room because she felt the view of the lighthouse would inspire his writing.
“Why didn't your aunt put us all on the same side of the inn?” Carolyn asked, and I knew she was disappointed Russell's room wasn't near ours.
“I think she was trying to put us in our old rooms. She figured the two of us would want to be nearby, so she gave you my brother's room which is right next door to mine.”
“Does that mean I'll be in a little boy's room?”
I laughed. We were standing outside the Violet Room. “No. My aunt redecorated both rooms after we moved and added queen beds to them. We used to sleep on twins.”
“Do you want me to come in with you for a few minutes?” I could tell Carolyn was thinking I might need support when I called Derek.
“You can come in to see it, and I'll show you yours, but I'd like to get to sleep as soon as possible.” The truth was I wanted time alone to think before I phoned home.
Carolyn nodded as I opened the door. “We don't get keys?”
“The rooms are never locked,” I explained. “Even when we stayed here, guests were free to lock them from the inside for privacy, but there were no keys like you would have in a hotel, at least not ones my aunt gave to guests. She was able to unlock any of the rooms in case of an emergency.”
“Strange,” Carolyn said, stepping into the Violet Room. “I've never stayed at a bed and breakfast, so maybe that's how they work.”
“I guess.” Flipping up the switch by the door, I turned on the light and then laid my overnight bag on the neatly made bed.
“This is a lovely room,” Carolyn said. “The purple is beautiful.” She walked around checking the view from the window that I knew looked out on the water but featured only a partial view of the lighthouse.
“Oh, wow! A window seat. I always wanted one of these when I was young.” She sat on the edge turning toward the bookcase in the corner. “Were those your books?”
I walked over to her and glanced at the spines of the books on the shelves that looked recently polished. Not a speck of dust covered any of the books even though they'd sat there for twenty years. A few were art books but most were young adult novels—Jane of Green Acres, Little Women, and The Wizard of Oz. I'd been a voracious reader as a child.
“That was my reading spot,” I explained. “Glen was jealous he didn't have one, but he only read science books, and he used his book shelves for all his science kits.”
“But I thought you said your aunt redecorated these rooms?”
“I meant she changed the beds, and I think she repainted Glen's walls. He used to have them plastered with posters of the planets, the periodic table, and other science charts. We'll see if it's still decorated that way. Maybe Aunt Julie wants me to go through my books and Glen's items before she does anything with them.”
As we started to go, Carolyn suddenly said, “Wait. What's that by your pillow? Did your aunt leave you a note?”
I followed her gaze to the folded piece of paper on the bed. My hands shook as I took it, memory of the crayon notes flooding back.
“What does it say?” Carolyn peeked over my shoulder as I unfolded it.
I read it quickly and folded it back up. “It's nothing.”
“Sarah.” Her voice was insistent. “Why are you hiding it from me? What's going on?”
I knew she wouldn't give up until I told her everything, so I filled her in on Glen and his favorite game as well as the text message I'd received during the trip.
As I spoke, Carolyn's expression became serious. “Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Someone is pretending to be your dead brother. You need to find out who and why.”
“I was thinking of redialing the number or sending another text and watching for the reply. What do you think?” It felt good to confide in a friend.
“I would say ignore it, but now that you've gotten a physical note, it's obvious someone here is responsible. Please let me see it.”
I passed it to her, and she read the short, crayoned message aloud. “Send Mother home.”
“What does that mean? Your mother isn't even here yet.”
I shrugged. “I wish I knew, Carolyn. I can't even understand how Aunt Julie persuaded Mom to come. She hasn't set foot in this place for twenty years. She never speaks about it and always shuts me up when I try. I'm also unconvinced she's recovered from the breakdown she had after Glen's death. It's almost cruel of my aunt to bring her back here.”
“Not only cruel, maybe dangerous.”
“You think these notes are threats, not a sick joke someone is playing.”
She passed the paper back to me. “I wouldn't throw this away, Sarah. I'm not sure there are fingerprints on it, but if something more substantial happens, you may want to call the police.”
“I'd need to show it to Aunt Julie first.”
Carolyn looked at me. “How do you know she's not the one doing it? She has the most access to your room, and it's possible she even has Glen's phone. You said she went through his things in his apartment in California.”
“That doesn't make sense. Why would she leave a note telling me to send my mother home when she was the one w
ho invited her here?”
“I know that's strange, but it's still a possibility. Otherwise, it has to be either Wanda or Russell. I can't see it being Russell.”
The way she said his name confirmed she was attracted to my old friend. “Why do I get the sense you like Russ?”
I'd never seen Carolyn blush before, but her cheeks reddened at my words. “I have to admit he's quite handsome, and we have something in common. I hope this trickster doesn't cut my visit short because I'd like to spend time with him. I checked his hand, and I see he's not wearing a wedding ring.”
“Don't get your hopes up, Carolyn. Even if he's single, he might be seeing someone, and he's just here to work on his book. You also have to consider Jack.”
She laughed. “I told you, Jack and I aren't serious. And what about Derek? You're still planning to call him, aren't you?”
I sighed. “Yes. I want to do it alone, though. Please understand.”
“Of course, but what are you going to do about the note and the text?”
“Nothing right now. I'll keep the note, as you suggested. I might talk to Aunt Julie about it tomorrow if I get a chance. Mom will be coming, and I can't do it in front of her.”
Carolyn picked up the overnight bag she'd left on the chair by the door and put her hand on the knob. “I understand. I think I can manage settling into my room myself, but I'm locking the door behind me. If you need anything, knock or call me on my cell. I'll have it on. It has a full charge.”
“Okay,” I promised. “I wasn't planning to lock my door, but I guess I should in light of this.” I looked back at the note, folded it up, and put it in the bedside drawer.
“Goodnight then,” Carolyn said, opening the door to leave, “and good luck with Derek. Keep an open mind when you talk to him.”
“That's what I intend to do, but I'm only checking in. I'll tell him I decided to come back sooner, so it gives him notice to get his girlfriend out of our house.”
“I wouldn't do him that favor. I'm still not sure he has anyone staying there, but if he does, it's better to surprise him. As much as I'd hate for you to catch them in the act, it might be the best option.” She walked back to me and gave me a hug. “Remember, I'm here for you no matter what.”
I felt tears gather behind my eyes but tried to keep them from falling. “Thank you, Carolyn. That means a lot, and I agree with you.”
From the Notes of Michael Gamboski
Lantern Room with Fresnel lens (Wikimedia Commons)
The Lantern Room is the glass-enclosed room found at the top of the lighthouse that holds the lighting system. The Watch Room is the room below the Lantern Room where the keeper stored fuel and stood watch. The Gallery is the platform, walkway, or balcony found outside the Watch and Lantern Rooms. Keepers used the gallery to clean the outside windows of the Lantern Room.
Chapter Fifteen
Sea Scope: Twenty years ago
When she got up, Sarah was surprised to find her mother sitting outside on the porch and the kitchen empty. Ms. Wilson always woke early even on the weekends, and her aunt was never far behind. However, it was a rare thing for her mother to rise before ten a.m. on any day of the week.
The house was silent when she'd made her way downstairs not even bothering to disturb Glen. There weren't many guests here yet, but several were expected the following week for the Fourth of July holiday. Currently, there was only Michael. He had checked in last weekend and said he was taking a summer class that involved independent study which meant he didn't have to attend school, but he said it was more work than going to classes. Sarah seriously doubted that, and Glen wanted to know if you could take independent study in third grade.
Sarah joined her mother on the porch. She was relieved to see that this was what her father termed one of his wife's “sober days.” She wasn't quite sure of the definition of that word; but, on those days, her mother looked prettier and younger, her eyes clear and not red, and her voice gentler.
“Good morning, Sarah.” She smiled when she saw her daughter. “It's a beautiful day. Dad is out jogging early again, and I didn't want to waste time in bed. Did you know your aunt has the most unusual birds nesting in that tree over there?” She pointed in the direction of one of the Oaks that graced the walk up to the inn.
Sarah nodded. “I think Glen can name them for you.” She remembered her brother spending the whole spring bird watching before school, his handy Audubon guide stuffed into his backpack.
Jennifer Brewster chuckled. “I bet he could. Come sit here next to me, Sarah. We don't get much time to talk together with the inn always so busy.”
Sarah took the rocker next to her mother. “Where is everyone this morning, Mom?”
Her mother tossed back her honey blonde hair that she usually wore up in a bun. Sarah recalled her father saying it was spun gold compared to Sarah and Glen's copper locks. “Ms. Wilson and your aunt went into town to shop for decorations for the birthday party tonight. You remember, it's Mr. Gamboski's birthday.”
“He lets us call him Michael,” Sarah corrected, “and, yes, I remember the party. Aunt Julie told me it was going to be a surprise.” Although her aunt didn't celebrate all the birthdays of the inn's guests, she'd mentioned to Sarah that this was a particularly special birthday like Sarah had celebrated in October when she'd turned ten. Sarah knew Michael was going to be twenty-one, but she didn't understand why that was a special birthday because it wasn't an even number like ten, twenty, or thirty. They'd never even celebrated their mother's birthday when she turned forty that past May, but that could've been because she'd spent it in bed on one of her “non-sober days” and Dad had apologized to everyone that his wife wasn't feeling well and that she wanted to spend her day alone.
“Is there anything you'd like to talk about, Sarah?” Her mother's question brought her back to the present.
“Why is twenty-one a special birthday, Mom?”
“In certain states, twenty-one is considered the legal age to do more grown-up things, Sarah. It signals the beginning of adulthood.”
“I thought that was puberty.” Sarah nearly bit her tongue after having let that slip remembering her aunt had made her promise not to mention anything about the “birds and bees” talk she'd given Sarah last month. Thankfully, her mother was in such a good mood she didn't question Sarah's knowledge of the term.
“That's different, Sarah.”
“So what things can people do when they are twenty-one that they can't do at twenty?”
“It's not what they can do; it's what they're permitted to do by law.”
Sarah didn't understand. “If you mean driving, you can get a driver's permit in South Carolina at fifteen and can vote at eighteen.” She remembered those facts from school.
“Yes, that's true, Sarah. If you're under twenty-one, however, you can't get into certain places particularly those that serve alcoholic beverages. The laws vary in different states, though.”
Sarah digested that. “Does that mean Michael can drink scotch and gin like you now?”
She watched her mother wince, and her gray eyes darken. “I think it's time to go in, Sarah. Your aunt and Ms. Wilson should be back soon. Maybe you can help me sweep the kitchen.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sea Scope: Present day
After Carolyn left, I locked the door behind me. I took the note from the bedside table and looked at it again. What my friend contended about possible suspects was true. I couldn't see Russ being the culprit either, so it had to be Wanda, but why? Should I confront her? Should I speak to my aunt first?
Still not having a firm plan, I put the note away and picked up my cell phone. It was almost eleven. I couldn't postpone the call to Derek any longer. As I located him on my contact list, I wondered if he would be in bed with his young lover when I called. The thought made me almost put away the phone. He'd told me he would wait for my call no matter how late it came. I was afraid to call the house line again, so I tapped Derek's cell number a
nd held my breath.
He answered quicker than expected. “Sarah.” He breathed heavily, but I didn't hear anyone in the background. “I was so worried. I checked the weather, and I saw there was a bad rainstorm down there. Is everything okay?”
I couldn't believe how concerned he sounded, how my heart raced hearing his voice. I tried to keep my own under control. “I'm fine. I'm in my old room here. We were all talking downstairs a while. It's been twenty years since I've seen most of the other guests.”
Derek let out a breath. “I'm so relieved. I feel terrible that I wasn't able to come with you.”
Yeah, right. I never realized he was such a good liar, but I found myself matching him by saying, “I told you that's okay. I understand you're teaching the summer intensive.”
“It's over in two weeks. I was thinking of driving down there. It'll be in time for our anniversary.”
Why was he telling me that? Did he think he'd have enough of his girlfriend by then, or would he back out at the last minute with an excuse? I pondered whether I should mention that I was returning with Carolyn by that time, but I remembered her suggestion to surprise him. “That might be nice. Look, Derek, it's late and I'm tired from the drive. I'm about to go to sleep.”
“I'll let you go then, Sarah. I'll call you tomorrow. I love you. I miss you.”
I wondered if he heard the coldness of my tone when I told him I loved and missed him, too. I ended the call before he did, the tears I'd held in check suddenly flowing. Carolyn advised me to keep an open mind, and I wanted with all my heart to believe that the father of my child wasn't cheating on me and really wanted to join me at my aunt's when his class was over. However, the logical part of me said it would be naive to trust in Derek's honesty and his false promises.
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