Sarah followed his instructions, opening the door a crack to make sure Ms. Wilson wasn't outside. Glen must've diverted her downstairs or to the West Wing.
Sarah slipped out and went to the dining room to see if breakfast was ready yet. She felt heady with the excitement of their completed mission.
Now, listening to Wendy's soft snores, Sarah decided to create her own case. She wanted to find out if her father was actually Ms. Wilson's boyfriend. As she'd done with Glen, Sarah mapped out her plan. Checking the time on her Barbie watch that she'd left on her night stand, Sarah saw it was nearly midnight, late enough that most of the adults would be asleep.
She tiptoed quietly from the room making sure Wendy was still sleeping. As she closed the door lightly behind her, there was a shuffle from the room next door, and Russell and Glen joined Sarah in the hall. Her brother jumped, surprised to see her. “What are you doing here, Sarah?” he whispered.
She should've known Glen would've recruited Russ into his nightly wanderings through the inn.
“I think you should answer the same question.”
“You first.”
Sarah looked at him in his blue sailor pajamas standing next to Russ in his green train ones. She had the urge to laugh but didn't want to wake anyone.
“If you must know, I'm on a case.”
Glen smiled and called her by the nickname she hated but that was only to mask his interest. “Silly Sarah. Don't you know you need assistant detectives on cases? Luckily, Russ and I were about to embark on our own mission.”
“We were? I thought we were only patrolling the hall,” Russ said, matching their whispers.
Glen gave him a light punch on the arm. “Yes, we were, Detective Donovan. We were trying to find out how many new guests are at the inn tonight.”
Sarah was aware a bunch of people had checked in for the Fourth of July fireworks show and that more would arrive the next day for the weekend, but she also knew most of them were in the rooms downstairs, although there were several guest rooms in the West Wing.
“And how do you intend to do that, Detective Brewster?” She humored him.
“I'm not going to tell you, Silly Sarah, unless you tell us what case you're working on.”
They'd moved slightly away from the Violet Room as they spoke. Sarah was hesitant to reveal her idea and slightly embarrassed by its nature, but she felt she had no choice. “Well, detectives,” she glanced at both boys, “I'm trying to determine who Ms. Wilson's boyfriend is. I was going to ask Wendy again, but she fell asleep, and I know how stubborn she can be about keeping secrets.”
Glen nodded in agreement. “Okay, so how do you plan to uncover this information?”
Until then, Sarah had been sure of what to do but now she found it hard to explain. It wasn't because of Glen's beady eyes on hers but because of the way she felt shy around Russ after their earlier kiss.
“I was going to listen at Ms. Wilson's door,” she finally explained. If their father was Ms. Wilson's boyfriend, he would have to go next door to her room without waking their mother which was usually easy because she was deaf in one ear and usually slept like a log, especially after one of her drinking binges which Sarah expected she'd had that night.
Glen laughed, and Russ put his finger to his lips. “Shhh. We'll wake the whole place if you don't keep quiet.”
“Sorry, but I can't help it. Silly Sarah has a stupid plan. I think we should forget ours and help her out. Each one of us can listen at a different door. That's the only way to narrow down the suspects.”
Sarah saw the reasoning in that. After all, it was possible Ms. Wilson's boyfriend wasn't her father. In that case, Ms. Wilson might be in another room altogether.
“Okay,” she said, remembering to keep her voice low. “But I say we restrict the search to the top floor.”
“Agreed.” Glen took a breath and snuck closer to Sarah and Russell. “This is the plan. Sarah, you check Ms. Wilson's room as you originally wanted to do. Russ, you check the first guest room on the left side of the West Wing,” he nodded down the opposite hall, “and I'll check the Lighthouse Room and the other guest room.”
“That's not fair,” Sarah said. “You get to check two rooms and Russ and I only get to check one.”
“Also, no one is checking Ms. Brewster's room,” Russ said.
Glen smiled his hand-in-the-cookie jar grin. “We all know what's going on in that room, Russ, but to make it fair, you can check the Garden Room where our parents stay while Sarah checks the Ocean View Room where you and your dad usually sleep. I'm sure it's empty tonight, but it makes her even with us at two rooms each. Is that good?”
Russell and Sarah nodded, obviously humoring the younger boy.
“Do we need a map?” Sarah noticed Glen was holding a pad and paper in his hand and three pencils.“I don't think that's necessary, Glen.”
He ripped off three sheets of paper and handed one to Sarah and Russell along with the pencils Sarah was glad were sharpened. “You can take notes if you want. I wish my tape recorder wasn't broken.” Glen had dropped his special third-grade graduation gift a few days after receiving it, and their dad said he wouldn't replace it because Glen had to learn to be more careful with his things. He'd promised to have it repaired if Glen paid for it out of his allowance, but he hadn't gotten around to doing that yet.
“If we talk much longer, people will wake up,” Russ pointed out.
“Then let's go,” Glen said, adding, “We'll report back here. Remember the rules. Be as quiet as possible, don't go in any rooms, and, if you're caught, say you were going to the bathroom or were hungry and wanted to get something to eat.”
Sarah found it funny how serious her brother took this and how he acted as their leader even though he was the youngest. After agreeing to the instructions, she and Glen headed to the West Wing while Russ walked across the hall to the Garden Room door.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sea Scope: Present day
When we went back inside, Russell and Carolyn gave me questioning looks as if they wanted to know what Aunt Julie's response had been to what I'd told her. Wanda was in the kitchen.
“It's a beautiful morning,” Aunt Julie said, “if any of you would like to take advantage of it. Sarah, feel free to put up your easel and work on the patio or in the garden. Russell, maybe you can show Carolyn around the grounds. I'm going to help Wanda in the kitchen. We'll have a hot breakfast for everyone in about a half hour. I'm sure Jennifer will be down by then and join us, too.”
I couldn't get over my aunt's flippancy. She acted as if nothing was wrong.
“I'd love to see the grounds in nice weather,” Carolyn commented, and I noticed the way she practically batted her eyelashes at Russ.
“Let's take a walk then,” he said. “We can talk more about Kit Kat.” As they passed me, he whispered, “I assume she's having a talk with Wanda.” Aunt Julie had already gone into the kitchen.
I nodded.
Carolyn smiled. “See you later, Sarah.” She wasn't interested in what was going on.
I debated whether I should sketch, as Aunt Julie suggested, or hide outside the kitchen door and listen in on her conversation with Wanda as I'd done with Glen and Russ as children with our ears to the guest room doors. I decided against that childish behavior and went upstairs to see if I could help my mother.
The Garden Room door was closed. I knocked on it gently. “Mom,” I called. “Can I come in?”
A few minutes passed, and I wasn't sure she heard me. I knew her hearing in her good ear had deteriorated as she'd aged, so I spoke and rapped louder. “Mom. It's Sarah. Are you awake?”
I considered she'd taken a nap after the flight, but she finally answered, wide awake and soberer than I thought she would be. “I was hanging up my clothes.” She opened the door for me to enter.
I stepped into the room. The curtains were open to allow in the sunshine, and the fresh flowers placed by Wanda stood on the white pedestal side table. The
room was wall-papered in a creamy pattern with roses. It had always struck me as old-fashioned. My mother's suitcase stood open on the queen bed, clothing scattered atop the floral-printed bedspread. I had the thought that the room was appropriately decorated for its namesake, but I knew it was named after the garden over which it looked.
“Can I help?” I asked.
Mother shook her platinum blonde head. I noticed her gray roots needed a touch up. “I can't see how, Sarah. Why don't you have a seat? We can have a little chat as I finish unpacking.”
I sat on the tapestry-brocaded chair near the window and looked out. I saw Russ and Carolyn walking among the flowers. They were deep in conversation. I heard snippets of their words floating on the light breeze that came through the screen.
“This garden is beautiful,” Carolyn said. “I would love to sit here on one of those benches and write.”
“You should do that,” Russ said. “I remember, as a boy, I used to come here a lot and think about things. It's a great place to come up with ideas.”
“What did you think about?”
“Sometimes I thought about my mom. I never really knew her. She died when I was three.”
“I'm so sorry.”
I watched them sit on a bench under the weeping willow and across from the small pond my aunt told me my grandfather had added to the garden before I was born.
“Sarah?” My mother was calling me back to her.
I turned around. “Sorry, Mom. My friend is in the garden with Russ, and I was listening to them.”
“Don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop?” She smiled, and it made her face pretty as I remembered it years ago when she wasn't in one of her depressed moods. “Your friend is attractive. I think she and Russ would make a nice couple.”
I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I didn't want either of them hurt.
“Can you hand me a few hangers from the closet, please?”
I stood up and slid the mirrored closet door open. As I did so, a piece of paper fell out. I gasped.
“What is it, Sarah? Did you get your finger caught?”
“No.” I picked up the paper trying to figure out how to hide it from my mother, but it was too late.
“What is that, Sarah? Did Aunt Julie leave me a note? What a strange place to put it.” She walked over to me before I could open it. “Let me see.”
I had no choice but to hand it to her. I watched her face change as she read it. “What type of joke is this?” she asked angrily, but I knew it wasn't me at whom she was mad. “This is written in crayon like Glen used to do in his game.”
My heart beat fast. I had a flashback to seeing the light under the Garden Room door the night before. “Mother, I've gotten two of them myself and Aunt Julie got one, too. We think Wanda's behind it. Julie's talking to her right now. What does that one say?”
Mom looked up at me, her dark eyes brimming with tears, her voice choking on the words, “Michael was murdered.” Collapsing on the bed, she covered her eyes with her palms. “I never should have come,” she murmured. “I knew it was a mistake.”
From the Notes of Michael Gamboski
Hunting Island Lighthouse (Wikimedia Commons)
The Hunting Island Lighthouse in South Carolina was originally constructed between 1857 and 1859. It was built of brick and stood 95 feet tall. This structure replaced the lightship on the shoals of St. Helena Island. In 1861, the lighthouse was destroyed by Confederates so that the Union would not be able to use the light against them. In 1875, another lighthouse was erected on Hunting Island. Engineers designed the structure to be movable should the ocean encroach upon its territory. In 1889, the structure was dismantled and moved 1 ¼ miles southwest of its original location. It took four months from start to finish.
(Information supplied by South Carolina Parks)
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sea Scope: Twenty years ago
Sarah was excited when her father asked her and Glen to help the people arriving at the inn with their bags. Russell's dad had taken him fishing, and Wendy was in the garden with her mother cutting flowers for the guest rooms. Although guests weren't supposed to check in until 3:00, many of them arrived earlier. Aunt Julie was surprised that there hadn't been more newcomers the day before, but there was another lighthouse show scheduled that weekend that visitors were probably hoping to attend. While the guests waited for their rooms to be ready, Aunt Julie entertained them in the living room with tea, cookies, and fresh peaches.
As Glen was carting luggage upstairs, Sarah's dad gave her the cases to take to the guest rooms on the main floor. They were alone together for a few minutes and as Mr. Brewster slid three suitcases toward her, she said, “Can I ask you a question, Dad?”
“Sure thing, Sarah. You look a little tired, sweetie. Did you sleep okay last night?”
Sarah recalled the detecting she, Russ, and Glen had done but knew not to admit that was what had caused the dark circles under her eyes. “Well, it was a little hard getting to sleep after the fireworks,” she replied instead.
Mr. Brewster smiled. “I imagine you and Wendy were up all night girl talking.”
The truth was, when Sarah returned to the room after sharing her findings with the boys, Wendy had still been out like a light embracing her doll, but Sarah nodded as if to agree with her father.
“So, what would you like to ask me, honey?”
She edged closer to him in the confines of the expanded closet her aunt considered the luggage room, checking if anyone else could overhear. When she was sure no one was outside, she asked, “Do you love Mom?”
A strange look crossed her father's face. She wondered if it was guilt, but he quickly replaced it with one of curiosity. “Why do you ask that, Sarah?”
“I want to know.”
“Of course I love her. I know we fight sometimes like you and Glen but that doesn't mean we don't love one another.” He didn't look convincing with his reply.
“Can you love more than one person at a time?”
Her father wiped his brow with his hand. There were no fans in the luggage room, but she thought he was sweating for another reason. “Sure, Sarah. I love you, your mom, and Glen.”
“I don't mean that.” She looked down. “I was wondering if a man could love his wife and another woman at the same time.”
“Why are you asking these questions, Sarah?”
She jumped at the harshness of her father's tone, but she needed to know the truth because last night hadn't proved anything.
“I just want to know.” She looked up into his angry dark eyes.
“It's possible a married person, man or woman, could be attracted to someone else but if that person is in love with their husband or wife, it shouldn't matter,” he muttered lowering his voice and looking out the door, checking if anyone was nearby. “Here, take these to the rooms on the tags. Aunt Julie will be angry if the guests don't have their bags on time.” He was dismissing her.
“There's lots of time,” she persisted, but her father had already rolled the three bags toward her and walked through the door. “Thanks for helping, Sarah. I'm going to see if my sister needs anything now.” His voice had calmed, but she noticed the tone was still rough. She watched him walk away and thought about the saying that had something to do with “hitting a raw nerve” and nothing to do with the dentist.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sea Scope: Present day
I felt anger rise in me. Clutching the note, I told my mother, “Come downstairs. I'm going to get to the bottom of this.”
I headed for the kitchen, Mother trailing behind me sniffling.
As we entered the room, the smell of grits, bacon, and coffee awakened my hunger, but I wouldn't let it stop me in my mission.
Wanda stood over the stove humming as she stirred a frying pan. Aunt Julie was next to her placing slices of bread in the toaster.
“Oh, good. You're both here,” Julie said. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”
“What's going on?” I asked. “Didn't you speak with her?” My eyes focused on Wanda who kept mixing the concoction in the pan.
“I did, Sarah, and she has nothing to do with it. I know Wanda well enough to see she's telling the truth.”
I ignored the fact we were talking about Wanda as though she wasn't in the room. “Well someone sure as hell isn't. Look at what was in Mom's closet.” I handed her the paper. Wanda stopped stirring.
“Carolyn couldn't have done that, and I doubt Russell is responsible.”
“Responsible for what?” Russ asked, walking through the patio door with Carolyn.
“Good. Everyone's here now,” I said. “I hate to ruin your meals, but I found another note.” I turned to Russ. “This one says Michael was murdered. My aunt refuses to acknowledge that Wanda has to be the one leaving these, and it isn't a joke.”
Mother had collapsed into a chair and was sobbing into her hands again.
Russ left Carolyn's side to stand between me and my aunt. “Can I see the note?”
Aunt Julie passed it to him.
“We have to call the police. You haven't found your phone, have you, Sarah?”
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