by Kim Allred
“You have anything for me to read yet?”
AJ shook her head, tired of Samuel’s frequent visits. “You’ll like it better if you wait for the finished draft.”
“Great. Fantastic. Can’t wait to read it.” He gave her a long troubled look before heading back to his office.
She could never lie well, and of course he had seen right through her. Not only had she not started on the weekend story—she had failed to produce any inspiration. AJ stared at the blank computer screen, the blinking pointer mocking her inability to focus, her mind as foggy as the pier. The talk with her mother had calmed her after the weird experience at the inn, but now the uneasiness returned. Something had happened she couldn’t explain. She shuffled the investigative reports, old newsprint and scraps of notes around on her desk, hoping one of them might ignite her muse.
By midafternoon, AJ tired of rearranging her desk, and she once again faced her menacing computer. Instead of working on her article, she opened her internet browser, the search jumping from old sailing ships to strange appearances at the coast to the fog and weather forecasts. The results were as disconnected as her experience had been—a great deal of information, but nothing to relate the bits together. She found stories of old ships that sailors claimed to have seen magically appear and disappear from the horizon. All of them tall tales of ghost ships going back hundreds of years, the most popular being the Flying Dutchman. The more current accounts carried scientific reasoning behind them, such as superior mirages or a fata morgana.
AJ lost interest, turning her attention back to her elusive topic for the weekend edition when footsteps approached. Her routine reply to Samuel rested on her lips until she saw the figure stop. She sat back. “Adam? Is everything okay? Mom? Madelyn, the kids?”
Adam passed her a perplexed glance. “Yes, yes, everything is fine. Didn’t mean to scare you.” His last words turned into a laugh that fell flat. “I guess I’ve never been to your office before.” Adam’s eyes shifted around the room, never quite reaching hers.
AJ settled into her chair. Her alarm evaporated as she recognized his nervous tics. She couldn’t remember the last time he seemed out of his element, but as strange as it was to her, he seemed to be on the defensive, trying to figure out how to ask her something.
“No. I don’t think you have. It’s a definite surprise.” Let him squirm. She went back to moving papers. Adam wouldn’t know she spent the entire day doing the same menial task, resulting in nothing but slow and painful time consumption.
Adam scanned the office. “I heard you went out with Ethan.”
“I didn’t go out with him.” Too defensive, but she couldn’t stop being the petulant little sister.
“Oh, I thought that’s what he said.” Adam turned his attention back to AJ, his trial maneuvers taking over. “Didn’t you go to some coffeehouse?”
“It wasn’t a date. It was coffee. A quick get-together before playing tour guide.” Although it had annoyed her at the time, now it seemed like a saving grace. “And Stella was there.”
“Of course she was,” Adam said, just loud enough for her to hear. “Well, I wanted to stop by and make sure it all went okay.” His eyes darted around the room again. “You know, since I introduced you two, I was having some misgivings about it.”
AJ sat up. “What do you mean? You just signed a contract with his firm.”
Adam leaned back against a neighboring desk. “And we’re still happy with our arrangement, but that’s with his company, not specifically with him.” He picked up a photo from the desk, gave it a quick glance, and set it back down. “And, I don’t know, the more time I’m around him, I’m not sure he’s entirely who he says he is. Wait, that didn’t really come out right. It’s more that he may not have divulged everything during the discovery portion of our negotiations.”
“Why would you think that?”
Adam shrugged. “He doesn’t talk about himself. Always asks questions, never opens up about himself. Was he like that with you?”
Her brother’s concern for her was unusual, and AJ didn’t trust it. Ethan was mysterious, but she’d only had one date—one meeting—with him. A meeting cut short by Stella’s entrance.
“We didn’t talk about ourselves, at least not much.” AJ laughed. “We talked about history.”
“History? Really? That seems a little odd.”
AJ shook her head. “He asked about my interests, and when I said antiquing and history, the talk just flowed. Nothing strange about it. He’s well-read on the topic.”
“Come to think of it, I did see several history books in his office. Wasn’t he interested in your antiquing?”
AJ considered the question, fiddling with a pen on her desk. “I guess we never talked about it once we discovered our mutual passion for history. He doesn’t seem like the type to shop for antiques.”
“So, have you been out on one of your treasure hunts lately?”
Adam’s change of direction made her look up, and she pictured herself in a courtroom, answering questions from the witness box. “Not since my trip down toward Coos Bay a few weeks ago. I haven’t had the time.”
“Did you find anything interesting? I mean, you usually find something on your trips, even the smallest of things.”
Initially surprised by Adam’s curiosity, she shrugged it off. Someone always asked her the same question. Whether Stella or her coworkers, they all knew how much she enjoyed her antique hunts. “I did find one small piece of jewelry, so it was worth the trip. Some old estate sale. Those can be the best places to find stuff if you can get their early. I was lucky to discover it. I only found the place after going down the wrong street and getting myself turned around.”
Adam’s eyes lit up as he leaned forward. “So what did you find?”
Before she could answer, Samuel hustled down the aisle. “Adam. Great to see you, it’s been ages. Everything okay with the family, I hope?”
Adam glared at Samuel’s intrusion but covered it with a quick smile. “Hi, Samuel. Family’s great. I wanted to drop in and say hi to my sis since I was in the neighborhood.” Adam shook Samuel’s proffered hand.
AJ had caught Adam’s glare, but that wasn’t anything new; he didn’t like any of her friends. Even though she had ducked Samuel for most of the day, she savored the rescue, relieving her from the uncomfortable discussion with her brother. Adam stood and patted his pockets. “Well, I guess I should be getting back to work myself. It was good to see you, sis. We’ll have to catch up on your antique trip later. I’d love to hear more.” He nodded toward Samuel and showed himself out.
Samuel returned to his same old concern. “You’re not having trouble with this weekend’s story, are you?”
AJ watched the door, Adam now gone. “No, Samuel, the story is on track. Nothing to worry about.”
Ignoring another worried glance from Samuel before he lumbered back to his office, AJ pondered Adam’s visit. He had showed up for a reason. But what? He had been curious about Ethan, then dropped the subject altogether to talk about an antique trip. She couldn’t piece together what Adam was digging for, but one thing was for sure—he hadn’t stopped by just to say hello.
AJ pushed away the disruption of her brother to refocus on her nonexistent story. She only got five minutes in before the office clerk buzzed. She had a caller. AJ answered, hopeful that maybe a story was calling.
“This is AJ. What can I do for you?”
“Always the cheerful one, aren’t you?” The warm voice tinged with a light English accent.
She straightened, her mind clearer than it had been all day. She pushed back from the computer, trying to come up with a response, but her brain let her down. “Ethan?”
He chuckled. “Well, at least you remember me. I wasn’t sure I made a strong enough impression.”
AJ relaxed back into her seat. “It was barely a day ago. I’d like to think I can remember that far back.”
“And I was hoping it might have been the s
timulating conversation and my charm.” His voice held a playful tone.
Tinkering with a pen, AJ jotted down words, never having been good at doodling. “So those security skills of yours tracked me to the paper. Dare I hope you’re calling to give me a story I could use?”
Nothing but crickets. Perhaps she had overstepped.
“I might have something for you,” he said. “Why don’t we have dinner, and we can talk about it?”
Startled, AJ’s mind raced. It was bait, but, desperate for a story, she didn’t have anything left to lose. She had to break her writing block—her climbing hadn’t produced anything.
“Did I put you off?” Ethan’s voice sounded like a little boy afraid he wouldn’t get supper.
AJ smiled at the image. “No. I got distracted. Dinner would be okay, and I could use some input for a story.”
“I’ll stop by your office at five tomorrow. I’ll try to solve your distraction issue.” And with that, Ethan was gone.
At first, the warmth of a blush threatened, but as she stared at the phone, a small twinge of righteous anger flared. He hadn’t even waited for a response. She could be busy tomorrow, for all he knew. But the lure of a story softened the discourtesy.
The ping of her cell phone made her jump: a text message from Stella.
“See you at Joe’s in five.”
AJ laughed and typed back, “Okay.” No one cared to ask if her schedule fit theirs. The day had been a complete bust anyway. She’d been scattered again, nothing but birds flying around in the dusty old barn of her brain.
She left the building, her day behind her, yet each step she took tugged at a string, leaving a sense of disquiet. Yesterday’s visit to the dock crept in, dogging her, moving in and out of her subconscious like the ship floating in and out of the fog.
By the time she got to the Subaru, the intensity of the moment forced a sharp breath. Every brain cell told her it was nothing but a trick of light and mist.
But her instincts refused to let go of the vision.
7
Raucous laughter greeted AJ as she entered Joe’s. A boisterous group of young businessmen had taken over a small section of the bar, beers in hand, recalling their business successes of the day and telling tall tales of the one that got away. Fishing stories or sales stories, they all pretty much sounded the same to her, the next person’s bigger and better than the last.
Joe’s, a favorite with the locals, provided a homey atmosphere. A tourist or two would occasionally find their way here, revealed to them by some local business. But its off the beaten path location evaded most of the infrequent travelers to Baywood. The restaurant was small, the bar area larger, which seemed fitting for the usual crowd. The pub-style food claimed notoriety for miles around with its fish and chips and to-die-for crab po’boys. The aroma of fish and grease clung all day.
The place geared itself toward the afternoon and happy hour crowds, Joe’s main source of income. But the dinner crowd remained steady. Joe sold the place years ago to his dedicated bartender, who had been with him for more than fifteen years. If AJ recalled the story correctly, Joe settled in Arizona, escaping the dampness of the Pacific Northwest to live in permanent sunshine and warmth.
Although Joe had been gone for close to a decade, Tony, the new owner, hadn’t changed a thing. The old but much-loved building’s décor mirrored any diner in a coastal town, all fish and sea related, with wood-paneled walls adorned with remnants of fishing nets and old buoys. Pictures hung throughout the place of long-ago fishing trips and “catch of the day” remembrances, all from Joe’s faithful customers and fishing buddies.
The bar area was filled with wooden tables and chairs, buffed to a fine sheen through the years by the backsides of hundreds of customers. Booths filled the restaurant area, and the old dark blue Naugahyde, softened over the years, never showed it’s age, the fabric replaced as quickly as it was torn. The place might be old and the furnishings outdated, but Tony never let the place get shabby.
Another burst of laughter erupted from the bar. AJ turned to the other side of the restaurant, encouraged to see only a handful of booths occupied by early happy hour customers, also driven away from the boisterous bar. AJ seized the opportunity to grab a booth as far from the businessmen as possible. Although she preferred the bar area, today she longed for a quieter setting. Thankfully, Stella hadn’t arrived first, or they would have been sitting in the middle of the mayhem, each word shouted in order to be heard.
AJ’s first beer arrived moments before Stella fell into the booth, carrying her oversized purse and several bags of nearby purchases. She ordered a martini before the waiter left.
“Another rough day?” AJ took a long slow drink from her pint, licking the suds from her upper lip.
“Nope. This is more celebratory.” Stella rearranged her packages, trying, without success, to reduce the footprint surrounding her.
“What did you sell?”
“Not sell, rented on a year lease.”
“So we’re celebrating with martinis for a rental now.” AJ laughed. Stella loved to celebrate the big sales. Now it appeared she was willing to toast to almost anything.
“Not just a rental.” Stella seemed pleased with herself. “The McDowell place.”
Now AJ understood Stella’s excitement. The large, partially furnished McDowell place had sat vacant for almost two years, despite its location near the beach. The house itself was a monstrosity, built decades ago, and difficult to maintain.
“Someone wants to rent the McDowell place? Wasn’t it for sale?”
“At this point, the owners will do anything if they can cover the taxes and maintenance. The place is a relic. I don’t know what ran through my mind when I agreed to represent it.”
“Who would bother to rent it?” AJ’s reporter’s instinct was piqued.
Stella waited for the first taste of her martini to slide down her throat, folding her napkin into origami-like shapes. She sat back in her seat, smiled like she had eaten two canaries, and lingered for another minute before dropping her bombshell.
“Ethan Hughes.”
“Ethan? Of all places to rent, it doesn’t seem to fit him.” The McDowell house sat on the cliff where she climbed. She would have to be more careful when she made it to the top. She wasn’t ready to give up her climbing spot.
“I know, right? I did my usual first tour with him yesterday. I took him to the best place first. It’s perfect for him. But you know people don’t know what’s best for them, so I have to show it to them first, then drag them around forever looking at all the other crap they’ll never be happy with.”
This was Stella’s usual selling routine, and she was tops in her game, one of the most sought-after Realtors in town. She had a knack for sensing people the first time she met them, a sort of second sight into their style, if not the actual person. Unlike Stella, many Realtors never listened to their clients. Most people didn’t believe Stella did either, with the amount of talking she did. But it was all a facade, a way of pulling information out of her clients other Realtors never bothered with.
“So right after I took him to the lovely studio over on Wilson Street, the one with those windows and huge rooms, I decided to flip over to something dreary, just to get my point across. So I dragged him over to the McDowell place. The place is dark and the rooms are small. The only redeeming quality are the large bay windows that look out over the ocean. Well, there’s also one of those in the master bedroom. But the rest of the place isn’t worth those windows. There are other places with great views.”
“So how many did you look at today? There couldn’t have been many if you’re already here celebrating.”
“That’s just it.” Stella leaned over the table to whisper to AJ like she was about to reveal a conspiracy. “I only showed him four. As soon as he stepped in front of the bay window, he stood and stared at the ocean. He didn’t even look at the rest of the place. After about five minutes of the staring, he said he’d
take it.”
“You’re kidding.” AJ hunched over the table to catch every word.
“I told him the place needed some repairs, and I wasn’t sure I could get the owners to fix them. He said he’d take care of it. You could have picked my jaw up off the floor.” Stella sat back and laughed. “I tried all day to talk him out of it. We’d only been looking for a couple of hours, and he immediately decides on the worst place? I can’t believe I kept trying to undo the deal. Even through our lunch, I kept at it, but he wouldn’t budge or tell me why he wanted the crummy old place.”
AJ sat back, nodding her head in agreement. “Maybe he’ll tell me at dinner tomorrow.”
“You have a date with him?”
“He called this afternoon. He mentioned he might have a story for me, so I’m not sure I’d categorize it as a date.”
Stella slurped her drink. Waiting.
“He has an enormous knowledge of history.” AJ tried to make her response seem reasonable, wishing Stella would stop staring at her. “Maybe he’s found something about the town I could use. I’m drawing a blank for this week’s edition.”
“Hmm. I didn’t take him for a history buff, but hard to tell behind all the armor.” Stella finished off her martini and ordered a second. “We had lunch for over an hour, and all we talked about was the town and real estate. I couldn’t get anything out of him about himself. He’s extremely sly.”
“You know the same thing happened with me. I’m not sure I asked anything specific, but he didn’t divulge any insights.”
Stella sipped her water, seeming to mull over her next statement. “He did ask about one thing I thought was strange.” Stella played with her paper napkin, opening it and folding it, making triangles, refolding it back to its original shape, her mind deep in thought.
Finished with the napkin already tearing at the creases, Stella looked straight at AJ. “He asked about Adam.”