Sea Scope

by Debbie De Louise

  “I imagine that's hard but having an adulterer for a husband must be worse. Did you ever wonder what caused Jennifer's addiction?”

  “I guess it's better to be single, carefree, and gay. How many other older guys have you lured away from their wives?” She recognized the angry tone in Martin's voice and was now able to hear the conversation without straining.

  “Don't blame it on me, sir. I heard about the bell boy before me, and what of Wanda and her little daughter?”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “I'm not blind. I see how the girl avoids you. You could get in deep trouble for that, you know. At least Bud and I were over eighteen.”

  “Stop!”

  “What's wrong? Hit a nerve. Let me go, Marty. I'll stay quiet. I wouldn't want my family to know either. I'm not out of the closet yet.”

  There was silence and then Martin replied in a more controlled voice. “Okay. Can I have one last kiss?”

  Jennifer imagined them locking lips, Martin's tongue probing Michael's mouth. She almost gagged on the image. But then she heard Michael say something that alarmed her. “Martin, what are you doing? Where did you get that gun? Please put it down.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Martin exclaimed. “You think I can let you go that easily. I already confronted Jennifer. I was prepared to break the news to Julie. I couldn't wait to get out of her life. That cold and calculating whore sister of mine. Just because Dad fucked her, she blames me for not coming to her aid. I don't owe her anything. She can have the damn inn as payment for her damage, and you can go to hell. Jump, or I'll shoot you.”

  “No, Martin, please don't.”

  Jennifer couldn't listen anymore. She was so afraid of hearing a shot. Instead, she heard only a scream. What had Martin done? She quickly but noiselessly descended the stairs. As she reached the bottom, she hid behind a pillar and watched her husband run down the stairs huffing, his face red. After he left the lighthouse, she went back upstairs to see if Michael was injured. She hoped Martin wouldn't return, but through the porthole-shaped window, she saw him race across the lawn back to the inn.

  When she got to the tower, she was surprised to see it empty. Where was Michael? He couldn't have gotten downstairs without her seeing him, especially if he was hurt. The scream she'd heard had been intense.

  A terrible fear gripped her as she considered another possibility. She approached the guardrail and peered down. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed seeing the broken body lying below. She took a breath to steady herself. She wished for the first time that she'd woken up with a drink of her morning scotch. What should she do? She stood there a few minutes considering her options. Because she was sober, she realized if she called the police, it wouldn't look good for her. She'd agreed to a divorce from Martin the night before. Even though no one knew yet, she was sure people were aware of what was going on between her husband and the inn's young male guest. If not, then they would still believe Martin over her. He was the charming host with the phony smile. She was the alcoholic wife with whom he was burdened. A part of her still loved him and that's what hurt the most.

  While these thoughts ran through her mind, she caught sight of someone crossing the field in the opposite direction of the inn. From this distance, she couldn't tell for sure who it was, but it looked a bit like Wendy Wilson. She knew that couldn't be because Wendy was in Bible school. She waited a few more minutes and then went downstairs. She decided to return to the inn and have a few drinks before she told anyone anything.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Sea Scope: Present day

  The paramedics who arrived on the scene after Donald called them from his cell had no easy task transporting Wendy to the hospital. Even though the bullet had grazed her leg, she still needed medical attention, but more importantly, psychiatric treatment. They had to sedate her to get her on the gurney. Then they had to carry her down the winding lighthouse stairs. Donald contacted Wanda and gave her the information about the hospital where they were taking her daughter. He told her he'd meet her there to fill her in on what happened.

  Derek wanted me to go to the hospital, too, but a paramedic had checked my arm and said it didn't need stitches. He'd applied antibiotic and wrapped my wounds while Derek looked on, a worried expression on his face. When I assured him I was fine, he helped me down the stairs. My mother followed behind. The rain had finally subsided, and a bit of sun shone through the clouds.

  The moments after Derek and Donald arrived were a bit of a blur to me. I remembered Donald making calls to the EMTs, Wanda, and Aunt Julie. He also said he had to call the Gamboskis to finally set their minds at peace about their son. I recalled Derek's arms around me, and his voice nervous with concern asking if I was hurt. I even remembered my mother handing the gun to Donald, but the scenes were hazy in my mind. Nothing was clear until I was back at the inn with Derek at my side. Wrapped in Aunt Julie's afghan and wearing dry clothes, I held a cup of steaming tea in my hand. I realized that even in ninety-degree temperatures, soaking rainwater could chill you. Mother had also changed her clothes and sat next to Aunt Julie on the couch across from Derek and me.

  Carolyn and Russell were at the inn with Aunt Julie when we returned. They already knew most of what happened, and Carolyn hugged me with an apology that she wasn't around to help. She and Russell had spent the morning at his house collaborating on a book that she was hopeful they'd publish together. It would be her first venture into adult fiction writing. She was thinking of moving to South Carolina after she settled things at home. I knew she was referring to Jack and her contract with our publisher. Even though I was sorry it meant we might not be working together anymore, I was happy for her. I was also happy for Russell. You never forget the boy who gave you your first kiss, and even after you move on to other relationships, there's still a special memory and a place in your heart for that first love.

  “Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in bed?” Aunt Julie asked as I sipped my tea. “You've had such a fright, Sarah. You should rest.” Although I hadn't yet told her, I had my suspicions she knew about the baby.

  “I'm okay, Aunt Julie. Thank you.”

  She smiled and turned to my mother. “What about you, Jennifer?”

  “I'm fine as well, but I have a favor to ask.”

  “Of course. What do you need?”

  “Please remove all the bottles from my room. I'm going to enter an AA program again and this time, I'm sticking with it. I also have one more request.”

  Aunt Julie raised her eyebrows in question. I was happy to hear my mother sounding so confident and wondered what else she had in mind.

  “If you'll have me, I'd like to help you reopen Sea Scope this fall. I'm not sure Wanda will return, and I know you'll need someone to assist you. Although this place doesn't hold the best memories for me, I think I'd like to make new ones here.”

  A light appeared in Aunt Julie's eyes. “I was actually hoping Sarah would consider moving back here to manage the place with me, but I know she has other commitments. I think this would work much better, Jen. I would love to have you. We share some bad memories, but maybe we can turn them into something positive. I've managed to eradicate some of mine with my painting, and I'd like to start showing the portraits in galleries again. Maybe you can find a creative outlet, too. I also hope that Donald and I can have a future. It's taken me many years to learn to fully trust a man who is nothing like my father or brother.”

  Derek spoke then. “If you're up to it, Sarah, the rain's stopped. Can we take a walk? I still want to tell you the things I came here to discuss.”

  My heart beat faster. I'd begun to feel hopeful that Derek and I could make a new start, but now I wasn't sure. His concern for me might've been a temporary reaction to the traumatic circumstances. Now that he knew I was safe, it might be easier for him to break the news to me about wanting a divorce.

  I took a breath and got up. I could put off the walk and say I was too tired, but I knew I had to f
ace the truth eventually. “I'm ready,” I said. “Let's go.”

  There were still a few puddles in the path through the trees heavy with hanging moss. Occasionally a few drops spattered off the leaves on to us as we passed, but they felt good, refreshing in the afternoon heat.

  “So, what did you want to say, Derek?” I asked, my heart still pounding.

  “Sarah, I know you've been through a lot. I'm sorry about all that happened. I'm even sorrier that I didn't get here sooner or go with you in the first place.”

  “You had your classes,” I reminded him, taking a breath of the scented air. Honeysuckle mixed with wet moss.

  “I could've cancelled them or assigned them to somebody else sooner. I was selfish. I knew we were drifting apart, and I did nothing to pull us back together.” He stopped and turned to me. I could see the sadness in his eyes. “I want a family as much as you do. That's what I came back to tell you. I'm willing to go through with any treatments you want to try. I want to make you happy. I love you so much.”

  I was still in shock from his words as he bent down to kiss me. I tried not to think about the woman who'd answered our phone, but I knew I wouldn't be able to rest until I knew the truth.

  “Does that mean your affair is over?” I asked as I pulled away.

  “Affair? What do you mean, Sarah?”

  I faced him, my heart hammering in my chest. “I called you from the road one morning when Carolyn and I were on the way to Sea Scope. A young woman answered the house phone.”

  I watched the expression on his face change. I was expecting to see guilt. Instead, awareness dawned on him. “Oh, Sarah. I'm so sorry. I didn't tell you. You may not remember my niece Lainey. You met her years ago when she was a kid. She's been at college upstate and decided to come home for the summer. She and my brother Paul dropped by unexpectedly. They didn't know you were away. Lainey had questions for me about the thesis she's working on, and Paul thought I could be of help. While I was showing Paul your wonderful sketches up in the garret, Lainey took it upon herself to make us breakfast in the kitchen. I didn't hear the phone ring, and she didn't mention picking it up. I guess she assumed it was a wrong number. She should've told me, especially since I was worried about you on the road.”

  I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been. “Derek, I'm the one who should be sorry for not trusting you. All this time I imagined you were coming to see me to ask for a divorce.”

  “Silly Sarah,” he said. “Don't you know how much you mean to me?”

  As we kissed under the oak trees, I could only imagine how surprised and happy Derek would be when it was my turn to tell him what I had to say.

  -The End-

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank fellow Creativia author James J. Cudney, IV, for sharing information about his publisher with me and Miika Hannila for accepting my manuscript for Sea Scope and offering me a publishing contract for it.

  I'd also like to thank Colleen O'Felein for helping me edit the prologue for this book, and beta readers Judy Ratto, Cherrie Forrest, and Christopher Merlino for their suggestions on improving the manuscript. Judy Ratto, author of the excellent Lucas Holt mystery series and a fellow cat lover, gave great feedback about Sea Scope and the cat character, Al, who was originally named Alabaster but who reads better with a shortened moniker. Erin L. George, MA MFT, family systemic therapist writing under Erin Lee, USA Today bestselling author, helped with my research of mental conditions and how they manifest.

  Jeff Gales, of the U.S. Lighthouse Society (www.uslhs.org) and Megan Stegmeir, Interpretive Park Ranger at Hunting Island State Park in South Carolina, provided important information for the book's research, and I'm grateful to both of them for their assistance with this project.

  My thanks also to Ed Escoffier, my co-worker and fellow librarian, who suggested South Carolina as the setting for my novel.

  Lastly, I want to thank the readers who purchase this book and those who have enjoyed my Cobble Cove cozy mysteries and other novels. I appreciate all reviews, feedback, and comments. I hope my words have meaning for you and that you find entertainment, education, and some surprises in my books.

  About the Author

  Debbie De Louise is an award-winning author and a reference librarian at a public library on Long Island. She is a member of Sisters-in-Crime, International Thriller Writers, the Long Island Authors Group, and the Cat Writer's Association. She has a BA in English and an MLS in Library Science from Long Island University. Her novels include the four books of the Cobble Cove cozy mystery series: A Stone's Throw, Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Written in Stone, and Love on the Rocks. Debbie has also written a romantic comedy novella, When Jack Trumps Ace, a paranormal romance, Cloudy Rainbow, and the standalone mystery, Reason to Die. She lives on Long Island with her husband, Anthony; daughter, Holly; and three cats, Stripey, Harry, and Hermione.

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