Sea Scope

by Debbie De Louise

  I began telling her I needed to see her more frequently for treatment when the truth was she was helping me more than I was helping her. The episodes she mentioned, the strange dreams about the lighthouse, they were occurring more often since our sessions. I considered it was because I reminded her of those days and out sessions were bringing more memories back to the surface.

  The next entry was dated two months later a few days before Glen's accident.

  Wendy told me she's now living with her mother, after her husband and she mutually agreed to a separation leading to divorce. She said she was sick of hiding our affair and wanted to tell Wanda about us. I cautioned her to wait a bit longer. I felt that the stress building up in her was increasing the dreams and thought it would be best for her to finish treatment before making any life-changing decisions. I know I risked losing her, but I'd anonymously consulted with a fellow psychologist about her case. He suggested I try hypnotizing her. I don't use hypnotism often on my patients so am not too experienced with it, but I asked her if she would agree to try it one time.

  I flipped to the next page assuming it would continue Glen's account of the hypnotism if Wendy had actually gone through with it. However, the rest of the book was blank. When I looked closer between the last page of writing and the one that followed, I noticed a neat cut across the center binding, as if someone had taken a razor or other straight edge and had removed pages. I ran my finger over the almost unnoticeable tear. If these pages had included a report of the hypnotism session, there must've been a reason why they were cut out and the fact hidden so carefully. Questions rose in my mind. Why hadn't the person who removed the pages destroyed the book? What was the book doing here with the rest of Wendy's treatment records up in my aunt's art studio? I knew what I had to do to find out the answers to these questions. I needed to speak to my aunt, but I needed to do it privately without Donald Marshall lustily looking over her shoulder. I placed all the books back in their original box in the same order in which I'd taken them out and headed downstairs.

  As I descended, I spotted Carolyn outside my room. She turned when she heard me on the stairs. “Sarah, I've been looking for you. Derek is here. He's downstairs. I told him I'd come get you, but you weren't answering my knocks. I was beginning to worry. What were you doing up there?”

  I had to think of an excuse quickly. I didn't want to reveal what I'd found to anyone until I'd spoken to my aunt. “I thought I left something there yesterday when Aunt Julie showed me her studio, but I must've put it elsewhere.”

  I could tell Carolyn didn't believe me, but she shrugged. “I'm sure it mustn't be that important. Your talk with Derek is. Follow me.”

  As we headed for the stairs, I said, “How was the movie with Russell last night?”

  Her voice lifted. “I had a wonderful time, Sarah. I'm breaking the news to Jack today. I hope it doesn't jeopardize my career, but there are lots of publicists out there and only one Mr. Right.”

  “You've had several Mr. Rights,” I reminded her.

  “I thought they were Mr. Right, but I was wrong. This is different. I know it.” She stopped at the staircase, her hand on the bannister. “Look, honey, I see you're spiffed up for Derek. I hope it works out for you. You're a family now, remember.”

  I took a breath. “He said he had to say something to me when he arrived. I'm afraid he's planning to ask me for a divorce.”

  “Sarah, that's crazy. Why would he come all the way here to do that?”

  “I hope you're right, but I have to be prepared. I can't get my hopes up.”

  “I understand, but I have a good feeling about his joining you. By the way, Donald Marshall left this morning. I think he and your aunt had a nice night together because she's all rosy and gushing. He had to get back to his dog, but it looks like he's going to be hanging around here checking things out including Julie.” She laughed.

  “What about Wanda? Has she tried to contact Wendy again?”

  “Yes. Donald advised her to go home for a few days and see if Wendy turns up. Wanda promised she'd let us know if that happens.”

  “So it's the four of us here now plus Derek,” I said as we walked downstairs.

  “Right, unless Wendy is still hiding out here, too.”

  I thought of the crayon clue that had led me to the studio and Glen's files on Wendy. If Wanda's daughter was around, despite the retired detective's fruitless search of the inn, why would she want me to see Glen's records about her? The only explanation I could conceive was that if Wendy was experiencing one of the episodes her mother mentioned, she would be thinking and acting as my brother. What was Glen trying to tell me?

  From the Notes of Michael Gamboski

  (St. George Reef Lighthouse plans, Wikimedia Commons)

  The most expensive lighthouse built in America is St. George Reef, near Crescent City, California. It took 10 years to construct and cost $715,000.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Los Angeles: Two years ago

  Glen sat staring at the words he'd jotted in his notebook during the session. Then he took a paper cutter and tore them out. Wendy had already heard the recording he'd made using the app on his cell phone. He could delete that later. He was surprised when she agreed to the hypnotism. She was hesitant at first, but after he'd assured her of its safety and the importance of confronting whatever was causing her sleepless nights, she said she would try it. She wanted to tell her mother about him and, when the divorce was final, she wanted them to be together. She was prepared to move to California and find a job there. They could save money and move to a better area where they could raise children.

  Glen felt tears gather behind his eyes. He wasn't the type of man who cried often at a sad movie or a touching book. Even after he'd found his father dead in the garage, he'd only had one big cry and gotten it out of his system. As a man of science, he'd always appreciated the freedom that knowledge gave, the power of truth. Tonight, he'd faced Wendy's demons and had to admit it put him in a quandary. He'd made her promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

  He took the papers he'd cut from the book, crinkled them up into a ball, and threw them in the wastebasket by his desk. She'd left in tears. He urged her to stay, but she said she needed time alone. She had an early flight in the morning and had brought enough money with her to find a place for the night. He tried to kiss her, but she was so upset she wouldn't let him. He hoped she wasn't mad at him. He was angry enough with himself.

  Glen closed his office and took the flight of stairs up to his apartment. He'd been sober these past few weeks, but the impulse for a drink now hit him hard. He went to his secret stash reminiscent of his mother's at Sea Scope and at the house on Long Island. The bottles and cans were hidden in the bottom of his wardrobe. Out of sight, out of mind, but he knew they were there when he needed them.

  He needed more than beer tonight. He popped open a bottle of scotch and chugged some down, feeling the familiar warmth and burn. He brought the bottle to his bed and sat there admonishing himself for being weak and needing alcohol to douse his pain. He couldn't stop replaying Wendy's words in his mind. Based on what she'd shared with him previously, he'd had a feeling the hypnotism would uncover something that happened when they were kids. The nightmares she suffered involved the lighthouse and Sea Scope. Most of the therapists she'd already seen believed the dreams were connected with her hearing about Michael's death when she returned to the inn from Bible school that summer day. He had a different hypothesis. Hearing something wouldn't cause the same trauma as actually witnessing it. He'd kept that theory from Wendy, but he knew she must've considered it herself.

  Before he hypnotized her, Wendy warned him that Wanda had become suspicious of the excuses she gave her for the weekends she spent away. Wendy planned to tell her about Glen when she returned home. Now he had no idea what she was going to do.

  The thought crossed his mind that he was only harming himself by falling back on his drinking. He put the bottle down and decided to g
o for a ride on his motorcycle to clear his mind. He might even catch up with Wendy. He was worried about her walking alone in this neighborhood.

  Before he could grab his motorcycle helmet, there was a knock at the door. He thought it was Wendy coming back so answered it without checking the peephole. He didn't expect to see the person who stood there.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Sea Scope: Present day

  As I entered the living room with Carolyn, my heart fluttered at the sight of Derek despite the fact he looked exhausted from his long drive. His hair stood a bit on end as if he'd ruffled his fingers through it, an old habit he had yet to break, and there was a day's growth of stubble on his chin.

  “Sarah,” he said, standing. His eyes lit up as he walked toward me with open arms. I fell into them, smelling his manly scent mixed with sweat and clothes that likely had been worn through the night.

  “Sorry. I need a shower badly. I didn't want to stop. I had this feeling I needed to get here right away.”

  I pulled away from him aware that the others were observing us, especially Carolyn who still stood at my side.

  “I'm moving you to the largest guest room, Sarah,” Aunt Julie said. “So you and Derek can be more comfortable. I'll leave you two to catch up. Derek's already had a cup of coffee and one of the muffins Wanda baked yesterday, but I'll make a larger breakfast for us all later.”

  “Thank you, Julie,” Derek said. “I might go up, shower, and take a quick nap, but first I want to talk with Sarah.”

  “Of course.” She nodded and left the room.

  “I'll catch you later, Sarah,” said Carolyn following my aunt. I thought I saw her wink. I noticed Russell and my mother weren't present, but I could hear their voices drifting in from the patio as Aunt Julie and Carolyn joined them.

  When the room was empty, Derek took a breath and looked at me. I was suddenly conscious of us being alone and what we had to say to one another.

  “I have so much to tell you, Sarah, but I really am beat. Would you mind if we go up to the room your aunt's prepared and I can freshen up before we talk?”

  I felt relief and regret at the same time. “Of course not. You must be exhausted. I know what room Aunt Julie gave us. I'll show you. Did you bring in your bags?”

  “They're already upstairs. Russell took them. He seems like a nice fellow. He says he knew you since you were a little girl when he and his father visited here.”

  Was there a hint of jealousy in his voice? I found that ironic when I still needed to confront him about the young woman who'd answered our phone.

  “Yes. There were four of us back then—Wanda's daughter Wendy, Russell, me, and my brother Glen. We all hung out together.”

  “They told me about Wendy. I hope they find her. She needs help.”

  I nodded and turned away from his dark eyes. “Let's go upstairs. I don't think I have much to move from my room, but I'll check while you're getting settled.”

  “Thanks, Sarah. We really need to talk, but I have to get a little rest first.”

  “I understand,” I said as I led him to the stairway. I considered that while Derek was resting, I could find a way to get Aunt Julie alone and talk to her about what I'd found in the attic.

  I showed Derek to the larger guest room, the one known as the Ivory Room because it featured neutral tones of beige and white and featured framed photos of elephants. Luckily, there were no mounted tusks. My grandfather had spent time in Africa and had decorated the room with my grandmother. He was a wildlife photographer, and it was possible that's where Aunt Julie and I inherited our art talent.

  Derek apologized again before I left him promising to talk after he'd gotten a few hours of sleep. I went downstairs looking for my aunt and found her alone drinking coffee.

  “Where did Russell and Carolyn go?”

  “I offered them breakfast, but Russ wanted to take Carolyn out. I think they're planning to head to the beach later. I'm glad they're getting along so well.”

  “I think it's more than that, Aunt Julie.”

  She smiled. “I agree. Would you like me to make you anything? The coffee's still on.”

  “I'm fine, but I would like to talk to you. Is Mother still in her room?”

  “No. She went for a walk into town.”

  “How was she this morning?”

  “Lighter.” Aunt Julie put down her cup. “I think it did her good to get that weight off her chest.”

  I took a seat next to her on the couch. “Do you believe my father killed Michael?”

  She shook her head. “I'm not sure. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, Sarah?”

  I noticed I was clutching my hands in my lap as I'd done the previous night with Mother's. “No. I wanted to ask you about your studio.”

  “Ah. You can use it any time. I already told you that.”

  “That's not what I want to discuss.”

  A curious look passed over my aunt's face. She lay her coffee cup down on the table beside the couch. “I'm listening. What do you want to know?”

  I took a breath. “I was up there this morning. I found another crayon clue.”

  “What?” Aunt Julie exclaimed. “I don't understand. Donald and I checked the whole house last night, and there was no sign of Wendy.”

  “I'm thinking Carolyn and Russell may have left the door unlocked after they came back from the movies.”

  “We need to call Donald and tell him.”

  I could see she was eager to speak to her old lover. “You can do that if you want. The note directed me to your studio where I found a box that belonged to Glen.”

  I watched her face darken, but her reply surprised me. “Yes, I stored some of your brother's things up there. I thought you or your mother might want them one day.”

  “Did you go through them? Do you know what they contained?”

  Aunt Julie waved her hand. “I don't recall. I may have, or maybe Wanda did. She and Wendy helped me go through Glen's apartment and office as you know. There were a lot of things. We got rid of most of them. That place was what you young people would call a 'dive.'” She shuddered at the memory.

  I thought back to my visit with Glen two months before his accident. I could still see the graffiti on the building, the dark stairwell, smell the scent of sweat and vomit on the close air. I decided to be blunt. “Were you aware that Glen was treating Wendy? That they were having an affair?”

  Aunt Julie's steady gaze didn't waver from my face. “Yes, Sarah. I won't lie to you. Wanda suspected what was going on and spoke to me about it. She was planning to confront Wendy when she returned. I have friends who live in L.A. in a better neighborhood than Glen. I flew out there when Wanda told me Wendy had left on one of her impromptu trips. I didn't tell Wanda I was going. I thought it might be best for me to check on things and maybe warn Wendy. I personally didn't think it was an issue that the two of them were seeing one another.”

  “Did you find them? When was this?” My heart was starting to pound.

  “I arrived the day of Glen's accident. I borrowed a car and went to his apartment that night. Wendy had already left. As I drove toward Glen's place, I saw her on the street. I couldn't believe she was walking alone in that neighborhood. I stopped my car and called to her. When she came to the window, I saw that her face was red and streaked with tears. I figured she and Glen had an argument. I told her to get in the car. She hesitated, but she finally took a seat in the back. I asked her what was wrong. She wouldn't tell me. She didn't even want to know why I was there, but I told her that I was going to Glen's apartment. She said she didn't want to go back there. I offered to bring her to my friend's house to spend the night and we could fly home together the next day. She was relieved at the offer, but I still thought I should visit Glen while I was in the area. When I found his place,” she shuddered again, “I asked Wendy if she was sure she didn't want to come inside. I thought maybe I could heal the rift between them. She was insistent that she wait in the car for
me. I hated leaving her alone, but I locked the doors and planned only a quick visit.”

  When my aunt paused, I asked, “What time was this?”

  “Around seven, I believe.”

  Glen's accident occurred at 8:30. “Go on, Aunt Julie. What happened when you saw Glen?”

  “His office was locked, so I went up to his room. When he answered the door, he was surprised to see me. I guess it was a bit of a shock. I noticed there was a half empty bottle of scotch on the floor by his bed.”

  I shut my eyes for a second recalling that they'd found Glen's blood alcohol level elevated in the autopsy and claimed his intoxication was the cause of the motorcycle crash.

  Aunt Julie continued. “I told him about Wendy and asked why she was so upset. I inquired about what they'd fought over. He told me he'd hypnotized her during a therapy session and that she'd found something out that deeply troubled her. He couldn't tell me what it was because of doctor/patient confidentiality.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I told him she was in my car, and I was taking her to my friend's house where I was staying. I asked if he wanted to go out there to talk to her, but he said he thought it best they be apart for a while.”

  “And then?” I prompted.

  Aunt Julie lowered her head and her voice. “And then I left, took Wendy to my friend's house, and heard the news about Glen after our flight home.”

  “Why didn't you say anything about all this before? Did you tell Wanda or Mother anything?”

  “Wanda never knew I went.”

  “Did Wendy start leaving the crayon clues after that?”