by DD Cooper
Goodness, Sophie, what the hell are you doing? You’ve just woken the man because you couldn’t wait until the morning to ask him a question about something that happened a very long time ago?
“Sorry if I woke you,” I said quietly, and turned around, ready to go back to my room and try to fall asleep, though that seemed like an impossibility at the moment. My mind was going at a thousand miles per hour trying to piece together a coherent scenario out of what Josie’s diary had told me.
“No, wait, Sophie,” Jack said and slowly got up from the couch. He was just in his shorts, most of his gorgeous body on full display. I was pretty sure I was blushing, but thankfully it was dark enough in the room to hide it.
Thankfully, Jack quickly put on a t-shirt, covering up his hard nipples. It must have been chilly in the house. I wouldn’t have known, because I always wore a t-shirt to bed.
“I’m awake now, what is it?” He rubbed his eyes with his hands. “I should probably go and sleep in my own bed, huh? It’s not like we’re in danger anymore.”
I ignored that last comment. I wasn’t here to talk about Henry. He was dead and gone. No, I had something far more interesting on my mind. I walked across the room and sat on a sofa chair across from him. “It’s about the journals you let me read. I just wanted to ask you a question.”
“About the journals? I can’t say I know more about them than I already told you.”
“Oh, no, it’s just about this house.” I looked around at the beautiful modern structure with gorgeous views all around us. “I was wondering if you knew much about the house that stood here before.”
“Can’t say that I do. But my contractor should, or at least someone local around here. I’m sure they have records dating back a long time.”
“Do you think you could help me find out more about this place? There’s also a woman I’d like to search for. The one who wrote the journals you let me read. I want to know what happened to her.”
“Sure. We can go to the local library tomorrow. I’m pretty sure they have all that stuff there, or at least they should.”
“Thank you, Jack.” He didn’t know just how happy he had made me. “Thank you for everything!”
And with that, I left him alone, excited by the prospect of finding out more about what really happened to Josie, and to see if my suspicions about Jack’s house were correct.
The next morning I got up bright and early and made some toast with coffee and tea. I wanted to give Jack a choice, and when he got up half an hour later, he chose the coffee and thanked me profusely. He was in a t-shirt and jeans and I couldn’t help but steal glances at his perfect physique. My mind kept going back to when I saw him with Lucy, except this time the only thing I thought about was his perfect body, in throes of passion. The very thoughts I was having made me uncomfortable, but I couldn’t chase them away. Instead, I took a long sip of my lukewarm tea, hoping that would help calm me down some.
“So, should I go get ready?” Jack asked after finishing some of the French toast and his coffee. He must have noticed that I was all dressed up, ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“If they’re open this early, I’m ready,” I said, while trying not to look like I was checking him out. He was standing halfway across the room, his back to me, but his head turned around in my direction. I thought about what Josie, or even Lucy, would have done if they had found themselves living with, and wanted by, a man such as Jack. I had those thoughts, too, I couldn’t lie about that. It’s just when it came to acting on them, I always recoiled at the thought of anything actually happening between us. But Jack was a patient man. A good man, and he deserved better than that. When he disappeared off to his room to get dressed, I resolved to have one final talk with him. To tell him that nothing would ever happen between us and that he should move on, and find himself a woman who would be able to love him as much as he loved her, both emotionally and physically.
Pretty soon we found ourselves on Jack’s bike, making our way to the library. Jack wasn’t sure of the exact location, but he knew the general area it was in from when he first came to town. I held onto him tight, and wondered if this would be one of the last times I’d ever be this close to him.
Pretty soon we were in town, on the lookout for any building that looked like a library. We spotted one not soon after, and Jack parked right in front. Jack took the lead on this one because I had neither the social skill nor the famous face. I can’t say I missed either. I walked behind him and watched from a distance as he talked to the older librarian lady at the desk. The library itself wasn’t much more than a house, only slightly bigger. But what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in volume.
There were what looked to be thousands of books, on every wall and even on bookshelves set up as aisles. I was quite impressed with what I saw and made a mental note that perhaps I should become a member. I mostly kept my head down since I came to the island, Lucy being the only exception. Poor, Lucy, I still wondered where she could have gone.
I overheard Jack ask about his property so I decided to come closer.
The woman had a romance paperback by her side, obviously in the middle of being devoured, though she did not seem displeased as she looked up at Jack. Not many men looking like him must have passed through these same doors, asking her questions about things only she supposedly knew.
“The house on the hill, the new construction? Is that the one you mean?” The woman adjusted her spectacles and took a nice long look at Jack, and not just his face. Her gaze continued downward as well. I could see by the look on her face that she liked what she saw, and I couldn’t blame her. I held back a laugh, and waited for their conversation to continue. I wasn’t here to laugh at old ladies ogling young, handsome fellows. I was here to find out what had happened to Josie, the constant diarist, as she became known in my mind.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Jack said. “I own it now of course, but I was wondering what kind of house it was before. Its history, anything you can really tell me.” Jack was using his British accent. I guess it helped disguise his true origin as an American actor. Even if they thought they recognized him, as this particular librarian surely did, the accent would throw them off.
“Oh, yes, I remember. I was born on this island. To me, the house on the hill was not just a house. It was a church. Of course, it later got converted into a house when the Miltons moved away, after the tragedy, and then much, much later, it was torn down and a new house was built in that spot. The house which you live in now, of course, young man.”
“What tragedy?” I interjected without even realizing that I had jumped into their conversation.
The old librarian looked at me quizzically. She smiled and then went back to admiring Jack. “While yes, Father Thomas Milton was accused of having a torrid affair with one of his parishioners and the whole family was devastated. The girl ended up killing herself in that very church. Mary Milton, his wife, took the children and they’ve never been back here again. As for Father Thomas, he became quite a drunk until one day years later, whether it was accident or intentional, we will never know, he fell down from the cliffs by the moor, to his death. It was quite a shock at the time.”
“The girl,” I said, excitement boiling over inside me. “Was her name Josie Browning by any chance?”
“Lord no,” the old librarian said. “What makes you say such a thing? The girl’s name was Annie Seeley.”
“Hmm, Annie Seeley,” I turned that name over in my mind. She could have been the one Josie found Thomas with that fateful, awful night. “Oh, Josie. Sorry, I don’t know why I would think that. I was wondering if you know anything about her, though.”
“Josie,” the old woman looked to be in thought. Jack gave me a look that seemed to say that I might have hit a nerve. “Josie Browning, yes, I think I do remember something about her. But what was it. It’s been such a long time since I’ve heard that name.”
“I know she lived in the Bootsnest Boarding Hous
e, I want to say.”
“Oh, yes,” the old woman was excited again. “Yes, of course. She was a strange girl, indeed. Especially toward the end there.”
“The end?” I asked, not really quite sure what the old woman was talking about.
“I was only a young girl at the time, so I might be misremembering, but before I get to all that, it seems I have forgotten my manners. Can I get you two some tea or something?”
“Oh, no that’s fine, ma’am,” Jack said.
“I’m fine as well.”
“Well, you two should at least have a seat. It hurts my neck to look up so much.”
We did as we were told. We brought a couple of chairs and sat patiently by the woman’s desk, waiting for her to continue her story.
“Where was I?” she said.
“Josie. Josie Browning. You said you remembered her when you were a young girl.”
“Oh, yes. She was quite strange before she went up and disappeared. I don’t know if she moved away and told no one, or what, but her family came down to look for her, I think her father and brother to be precise, but she was nowhere to be found. It caused quite a stir in this small town. But of course, then the Father Thomas scandal happened, and suicide of poor Annie, so Josie was quickly forgotten. Most of us just assumed that she moved on to bigger and better things. Or at least that’s what we hoped for.”
“Is there anything more you remember about Father Thomas and his family? Maybe something about his son, Greyson?” I remembered the encounter she had with Greyson after the incident in the church. If he wasn’t somehow responsible for her disappearance, he might have a clue as to what actually happened, especially if his father was involved.
“Greyson Milton. All the girls had a crush on him, if I remember correctly. But he was withdrawn. He didn’t seem like a very happy fellow, especially after Annie’s suicide. He seemed to be very angry with his father, which is quite understandable. I don’t think he talked to the man ever again, for Thomas died alone and penniless, still living in the church his father had built. For you see, Thomas’ father was also a vicar. It was always assumed that Greyson would follow the same path, but whether he did, I do not know. As I’ve said, we haven’t seen any of the Miltons here for a very long time. I can’t say I blame them. Some in the town still talk about what happened all those years ago. Some people just cannot let go of the past, can they?”
The way the old librarian looked at me and Jack when she said that last thing made me a little uncomfortable. It was true, though. Both me and Jack seemed to have problems dealing with what happened to us in the past. Jack dealt with the pain by sex and drugs, I did the complete opposite: I shut everyone out and wouldn’t let anyone get close to me. It seemed like the old lady had seen through our charades and was calling us out on them. But that wasn’t really what was happening. I was just projecting something that I felt myself on her. Or at least I tried to convince myself of that. But back to Josie. Poor Josie. It seemed she was right. Someone was following her. Now the only question remaining is who actually killed her. Thomas or Greyson Milton? They seemed like the only two plausible suspects.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Morgan,” Jack said after a very long silence. I was digesting what was said, and I guessed my manners ran away with my train of thought.
“Oh, be sure to come back any time, dear boy,” she said and took a long last look at Jack. “And you too, dear,” she said as an afterthought to me.
“Did you find out what you needed to know?” Jack asked as we exited the library.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m just not sure what to do with this information, yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know those journals I’ve been reading?”
“Yeah, you seem pretty into them. Were they really that interesting?”
“Well, yeah, but the more interesting thing is where they were found and what isn’t in them. Josie Browning, the girl who wrote them, had an affair with Thomas Milton and got pregnant. She confronted him, and then a little later she went missing after going to meet him at his church after getting a written invitation. Jack, I think that either Thomas or his son Greyson killed Josie on the very same land where your house stands now. And if my suspicions are right, I think her body still might be buried up there somewhere.”
Jack pushed me aside as we got close to the bike.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked me point blank. “If you are, we should probably start digging.”
“Of course I’m not sure, Jack, but it’s a theory. I don’t know if we should start ruining your property, though. What if I’m wrong?”
“I’ll just hire a landscaper to fix it. Just think about it, Sophie, if we find her, we could help solve her disappearance, and murder. This could make a pretty good film. Maybe I should think about buying the rights. God, Sophie, we should keep those journals safe. They’re the only real evidence we have that she had an affair with this Milton fellow. And you said there was something in there about his son? What made you think that he might be the one responsible?”
“Well, it was just something Josie said in one of her last journal entries. She ran into him and he was very rude towards her, as if he knew what happened between her and his father. And then after that she felt like she was being followed. Then she got a letter from Thomas, asking to meet at his church well after midnight. I have a feeling that Thomas wasn’t the one who wrote that letter. From what Josie said about him in the rest of the journal, and their final encounter, it seemed like he was done with her.”
“He sounds like a real gentleman,” Jack said sarcastically as he got on the bike. He handed me the helmet.
“Indeed,” I agreed and put on the helmet.
I was ready to go back to the warmth of Jack’s place, even though now it had the extra connotation of possibly being the last place Josie Browning drew breath.
Soon we arrived at Jack’s place but instead of finding what I expected, we found something completely unexpected there.
Lucy was sitting by the door, wearing a thick coat. My heart jumped with joy. She seemed to be fine. While Jack stayed behind with the bike I ran up to the steps and greeted her. She got up slowly as I helped her. She seemed tired and a little beat up but otherwise fine.
“Thank God you’re okay, Sophie,” was the first thing she said to me.
“That was what I was going to say to you, Lucy! Where the hell have you been? I looked for you everywhere. How did you get out of that explosion alive?”
Lucy looked downward, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Oh, Sophie, I can’t believe it myself. I was almost free from the restraints when that terrible fire was headed my way. That was enough incentive for me to really try, and I did, at any cost.” Lucy lifted up her wrists and I could see the deep red lines there. She had almost slit her wrists trying to get free.
I hugged her tight. “Oh, Lucy, I’m so sorry this happened to you. I should have listened to you about Henry. But anyway, let’s get inside before we both catch a cold,” I said through tears. Jack came to us not soon after. He nodded in Lucy’s direction. There was still so much tension between them. But I didn’t care about any of that now. All I cared about was that my friend Lucy was alive. Jack unlocked the door and let us in while turning off the alarm. After Lucy got settled on the couch, I went into the kitchenette to make her a hot cup of tea. I made enough for all of us. Jack came by my side as I was preparing a plate of cookies and other such assortments, and gave me a look that told me everything I needed to know. I knew he didn’t like her, or trust her, but she needed me right now, and I gave him back a look that hopefully communicated that.
“Here you go,” I handed her a hot cup of tea and set the plate of cookies down on the table. “Eat some of these. You’ll feel better.”
I sipped my own tea as I waited for Lucy to continue her story. I needed to know everything that had happened to her since Henry took her. Jack was standing on the other side of the room,
out of Lucy’s sight, staring down at us. I gave him a look that hopefully said that he should join us in the living room. He declined by shaking his head and staying where he was.
“Whenever you’re ready, Lucy,” I said gently. “I want to know what happened. And where have you been since the explosion?”
Lucy took a long sip of her tea and held it in both hands, warming herself by its heat. It was very cold outside, but then again, it was always cold on this island.
“Oh, Sophie, it was terrible. Henry had come out of nowhere in the middle of the night. I tried to fight him off but he was surprisingly strong, overpowering me in no time. He held me on his boat while he contacted you. I was sure he was going to kill me, and I guess I was right. For when he tied me down with those explosives in the boathouse, I knew that I wasn’t getting out of there alive. I started working on getting myself free as soon as he tied me up.”
“Wow, Lucy, that must have been terrifying.”
“It was. I barely got out of there alive. I ran through the woods until I reached civilization, as crappy as it is over here,” she laughed through the tears as she said that last bit and my heart just went out to her. Poor Lucy, having to go through that awful experience because of me. “Then I guess I collapsed. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital this morning. I just got discharged. The first thing I thought about was you and what Henry had done,” she said as Jack and I held our collective breaths. “I thought about going to the police first, but you know they’re pretty useless. So I decided to come by here instead to see if Jack knew anything. I figured he’d be the one who knew what should be done.” She looked behind her in Jack’s direction. The look on Jack’s face remained neutral. She looked back at me. “Anyway, I was just about to leave and go to the police station when you two rode in on that bike. I can’t express how glad I am that you’re okay. How did you manage to get away from Henry?”