Sabotage on Solitude Bay

by M. J. Mandrake

  She sucked in a breath. Well, that was unexpected… but not in a bad way.

  “You probably think I’m crazy, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone like you, and I don’t want to put off telling you. We’re never guaranteed any more time than right now. Probably a horribly morbid thought and really bad timing, but―” he nodded at the pier, “I’m going to let her death help remind me to live before it’s too late.”

  “I―” Her voice wasn’t working right. Love you. She tried again. “I―”

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  Sara ran up with a sparkler and thrust it at Kitty. Sparks jumped in every direction and both Kitty and Leander jumped back. Sara clearly intended for Kitty to take it, so she carefully took the sparkler and smiled at the little girl.

  “Here’s yours,” Luisa said, handing one to Leander.

  “Thanks.” He took it and drew a small heart in the air.

  Jorge walked by drawing patterns in the air with a hand full of sparklers and still singing loudly. “Do you think he should have those?” Kitty asked.

  “As long as he stays away from everybody else,” Leander said, watching him.

  “I was thinking more about the alcohol he’s consumed. His breath might be a fire hazard.”

  He laughed and she smiled shyly at him. As the children ran around the beach and adults supervised the fireworks, Kitty had a sudden rush of happiness. She was surrounded by people who loved each other at the merriest time of the year, with the promise of happiness dancing around her. This was what it was like to have a family. She’d forgotten.

  Chica nudged her leg and Kitty looked down. Her sparkler was almost at the end of its life and she was carefully pinching it between two fingers. Chica was focused on The Golden Pelican, her body tense and alert. She growled low in her throat.

  Kitty followed her gaze and at first she didn’t see what was wrong. The windows were glowing with warmth and the Christmas tree twinkled. The porch looked like something from a magazine: inviting and magical.

  “Leander,” she whispered, dropping the sparkler in the sand and clutching his arm. “Look.”

  It wasn’t the Golden Pelican that Chica had been watching. It was the house next door. There was a figure standing out on the balcony, her flowing white gown looked unearthly in the darkness.

  Mr. Candlewick broke away from the group and headed up the beach.

  “Where are you going?” Leander called to him, running to catch up.

  “Forgot the buckets to douse the sparklers,” he growled. He was surprisingly fast for an old man with a stiff gait.

  “I’ll help you,” Leander said, falling into step with him.

  “No need. Go back to the party.”

  “It’ll be easier with―”

  “Go back!” Mr. Candlewick raised his voice and Leander put up his hands, falling behind.

  “Okay. I’m sorry for insisting.” Leander glanced at the Perkins’ house. The woman was gone.

  As he headed back to Kitty, Mr. Estornell stopped him. “He’s stubborn. Likes to do everything himself.”

  When Leander reached Kitty, they stood together watching Mr. Candlewick until they couldn’t see him any longer.

  “Tonight. It has to be tonight,” Leander said. “He got into the basement today from somewhere other than the door, and I know he saw that woman on the roof.”

  Kitty nodded. The threats, the sabotaged boat, the dead girl, Mr. Candlewick’s behavior, and the abandoned house next door were all connected. She just wasn’t sure how. But following that passageway had to lead them to some answers. She only hoped it wouldn’t get them killed.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back into the same box.”

  ―Italian proverb

  Kitty leaned back on top of her quilt and tried to get comfortable. The bedside lamp was nice and bright, but the iron bedframe cast a strange shadow across the page as she read. She turned a page without reading the words. She was passing the time until Leander came for her, and she could barely focus. They were both determined to explore the little passageway tonight before anything else happened, but that wasn’t why her nerves were jangling.

  He loved her. Any other man and Kitty would suspect that his feelings had been influenced by the joy of the Christmas season and the happiness he felt at being reunited with his large family. But Leander wasn’t the type to be swayed by circumstance. He was logical, thorough, and almost pedantic in his movements. He wasn’t impetuous in any way. When he told her he loved her, she believed him.

  Of course, it was related to the terribly sad story of the young woman who had drowned so long ago, but Kitty understood what he’d been feeling. Life was short. Sometimes we didn’t get the time we wanted with the people we loved. Caution was good, and circumspection was better, but love was not to be put off simply because of scheduling. When love knocked at the door, you opened it. You didn’t tell it to come back at a better time, say Sunday at four in the afternoon.

  These were the thoughts running through Kitty’s head and she made one last effort to focus on her book. It had one of her favorite Christmas rereads, but after she’d experienced her own terrible broken heart, she’d put it far up on the shelf, unable read the gothic romance again. This Christmas she’d decided to give it another try.

  Flipping the page, she read: “You have nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than to receive the salary he gives you for teaching his protégée, and to be grateful for such respectful and kind treatment as, if you do your duty, you have a right to expect at his hands. Be sure that is the only tie he seriously acknowledges between you and him: so don’t make him the object of your fine feelings, your raptures, agonies, and so forth. He is not of your order: keep to your caste; and be too self-respecting to lavish the love of the whole heart, soul, and strength, where such a gift is not wanted and would be despised."

  It was a sorry little pep talk from Jane Eyre to herself and one that didn’t work in the slightest. Maybe that’s why people loved Jane. She was so determined not to fall in love with Mr. Rochester and then it happened anyway. Kitty wondered if she’d be able to hold off love if she tried. She figured she could. All she’d have to do is stay out of the man’s way. Easy, really.

  Tap, tap. A sound at the secret door made Kitty sit up in bed with a start. She held still, suddenly frozen in fear. Chica lifted her head but didn’t growl. She seemed perfectly fine with someone asking to enter their room through the dark passageway.

  Tap, tap, tap. Kitty took a deep breath and crawled out of bed. It was highly unlikely a ghost or an attacker would knock before entering the room. It had to be Leander. But the possibility that it wasn’t had her heart beating out of her chest. Creeping closer, she shifted the rocker out of the way.

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “It’s me,” was the muffled reply.

  Kitty smiled, reaching out for the knob. Then she stopped.

  “Did you bring dessert?”

  “Of course.” There was a pause. “Did you want me to tell you what it is so you can decide whether to open the door or not?”

  She opened it a crack and peered inside. She laughed to see him holding up a box of wrapped chocolates.

  Swinging it all the way open, she waved him inside. She whispered, “You didn’t think I really meant it but lucky you. Chocolate was the only thing I would have accepted. Anything else and I would have closed it up again.”

  It took him a few seconds to crawl out of the small passageway. Kitty realized for the tenth time how tall he was. Leander stood up with a soft groan. “This was a lot easier when I was a kid.”

  “Let me get my shoes on,” she said.

  “Wait.” He reached out and pulled her to him.

  After a few moments, she said breathlessly, “There’s a crazy person stalking your family and you want to make out for a while?”

  “Hmmmm,” he said, kissin
g a spot beneath her jaw. “Is that selfish? What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Kitty felt like her brain was running in the very lowest gear. “Chaos… mayhem… death.”

  “Sounds okay to me,” he said, but he sighed and let her go. “Quick, get your shoes on before we decide to explore tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not risking your mom finding you up here,” she whispered, slipping her feet into her sneakers. “I know what lurks beneath those rosy cheeks and warm smile.”

  “Smart woman,” he said, winking. “But I think I’d probably bear the brunt of her displeasure. She’d forgive you for being unable to resist me.”

  “Ha,” Kitty said but she hoped it was true. “Come on, Chica.”

  As they crawled back into the passageway, Kitty realized the kissing had done the job. She was definitely awake now despite the late hour and it wasn’t because they were creeping around an old house in the middle of the night, chasing after a saboteur.

  Leander took Kitty’s hand and they made their way awkwardly down the small, winding stairwell. Chica was right behind, her nails making scratching sounds against the wooden steps. The light of Leander’s flashlight cast strange shadows on the narrow walls.

  “We’re heading around the back of the house now,” Leander whispered.

  “I hope we don’t pass Penny and Elaine’s room. I bet Toto and Jack will sound the alarm if they hear us scratching around in the walls.”

  “They’re on the other side of the house, near the front.”

  “Good.”

  They walked in silence for a little while, stepping carefully on the worn treads. “We’re going to pass the kitchen door in a bit,” Leander said, pointing ahead to a small, green door about the size of the one in Kitty’s room.

  “Ah, you crawled through that to get me chocolate?” she asked.

  “No, I was smart and got the chocolate from the living room. But I did have to come up through the kitchen. Does that count?”

  “Nope,” Kitty said.

  “Harsh,” he whispered as they passed the door.

  The stairs took a decidedly abrupt turn and became much steeper. Kitty let go of Leander’s hand and steadied herself by holding his shoulder. Chica’s passage downward grew louder and more labored as she took the steps two paws at a time.

  “Remember that day we hiked down the cliffs of Tulum, right after we first met?” she asked.

  “You mean, do I remember when you slipped and jumped onto my back and we nearly both went over the edge to our deaths? Yeah, I remember that.”

  “Funny. Not what I meant. I was going to say do you remember how Chica followed us?”

  “I guess.” He paused at a large door and turned to look at her.

  “I knew you were okay then.”

  “Okay?”

  “That I could trust you.” Kitty nodded at Chica on the step behind her. “She doesn’t follow other people. Only me. And if I’m following someone, she’ll walk beside me, or between us.” She shrugged, feeling a little silly for mentioning it.

  He smiled and even thought the flashlight gave him an eerie, distorted expression, Kitty couldn’t help smiling back.

  “That’s nice,” he said, reaching out for her.

  She kissed him for a moment, then stepped back, startled.

  “What? Did you hear something?”

  “No, I just thought of how stupid it would be if we got murdered in here because we were too busy kissing instead of actually investigating. I think we need to focus.”

  “Good call,” he said, turning back to the door.

  It took him several minutes to work it open but he finally shoved it far enough that they were able to squeeze through. A heavy box was set against it, but there was no dust in the area. It had been used recently.

  “This is the opposite end from where we found Mr. Candlewick,” Kitty said quietly.

  “We didn’t get a good look at what he was doing over there. He said he was getting candles.” Leander took Kitty’s hand again and they went toward the far end of the basement.

  Kitty wasn’t a person who believed in ghosts or spirits, but as they walked down the metal ranges, she found herself looking into the corners. The specter of the woman on the rooftop was bright in her mind. She clutched Leander’s fingers.

  At the end of the aisle, Leander shone his flashlight at the wall. He bent down and looked closely at the wooden panel. “I think this is another door.”

  Kitty glanced around. “But where would it go?”

  “To the Perkins’ house,” he said.

  Carefully feeling around the panels, Leander paused at the top corner and tugged. The door swung inward. A narrow tunnel led off into the darkness.

  Chica pushed her way forward and gave it a sniff. Backing up against Kitty’s legs, she made it clear that exploring further into the tunnel wasn’t in Kitty’s best interests.

  “So, we’ve got to make a decision here,” he said. “You can wait for me while I go on ahead, or we can come back tomorrow in the daytime with other people.”

  “Where’s the third option? The one where I go with you into the tunnel?”

  Leander cocked an eyebrow. “You really think Chica’s going to let you?”

  “Hm.” Kitty locked eyes with her dog. “Probably not.”

  Chica lifted her nose and let out a soft whoooofffff. She sniffed, then sniffed again. Backing away, she tried to lead Kitty from the basement.

  “I know it’s creepy but we’re not quite done here,” Kitty said.

  “Do you smell that?” Leander asked.

  Kitty paused, inhaling deeply. “Smoke!”

  “It’s coming from in here.” He shone his light as far ahead as he could. No smoke was visible but they could both smell it now. “I’m going to go inside.”

  “Well, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Kitty burst out.

  He blinked, startled. “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”

  “You can smell smoke in an abandoned house and not only are you going inside, but you’re going to crawl up a passageway that most likely has only one exit? Stupid, really.” Kitty knew she was speaking out of panic but she couldn’t stop herself.

  Leander nodded. “You’re right. that is pretty stupid. Let’s go outside and check it out.”

  Kitty was a little surprised to have gotten through to him but she gratefully grabbed his hand and headed up the basement steps to the kitchen. They hadn’t found anything in the tunnel, exactly, but the knowledge of the passageway to the Perkins’ house could be very important.

  “Maybe it’s just someone starting a fire in the fireplace,” Kitty said.

  “In Florida, on Christmas Eve.”

  “Hm, right.” She pushed against the door and was thankful it opened into the kitchen. She took several large breaths, relieved to be out of the enclosed spaces.

  In a few moments they were outside, standing on the porch of The Golden Pelican in the dark. The full moon gave the place a magical but eerie glow.

  Leander took her hand and they walked down the steps toward the side of the house.

  “It’s stronger here,” Kitty whispered.

  Chica suddenly barked, deep and loud. Kitty whirled around, prepared to see an attacker, knife raised above his head.

  She screamed when she saw Mr. Candlewick just a few feet away. Leander jumped in front of her… And Mr. Candlewick rushed on by, gasping, his silver mane flying.

  Chica barked again and Kitty realized she was looking up, at the Perkins’ house.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered, her hand to her mouth.

  There, up at the top of the house, stood the woman once more, her arms stretched wide. The long white dress she wore flapped in the breeze from the bay. “You’ll never take him from me,” she called, her voice thin and reedy with age.

  “Mother, no!” Mr. Candlewick pushed through the hedge and disappeared.

  Kitty saw flames lick a
t the windows on the third floor. “The house is on fire,” she said.

  Leander looked at her and shook his head. “We have to try.”

  “I know.” With a terrible weight in her stomach, she kissed him goodbye, and dialed 911 while he disappeared after Mr. Candlewick.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Suicide is man’s way of telling God, “You can’t fire me, I quit.”

  ― Anonymous

  Kitty hung up the phone and rushed through the hedge after Leander. Chica was barking madly, and Kitty could hear Toto and Jack echoing her alarm from inside The Golden Pelican. Penny and Elaine would be struggling awake, unsure of what was happening.

  The Perkins’ house was glowing with a flickering orange light now and the smell of smoke was heavy in the air. Kitty searched the scene for any sign of Leander or Mr. Candlewick. “They’ll bring her down,” she said to Chica. “Easy.”

  But her throat was tight with fear and she shivered in the darkness. Far off she could see the luminaria still shining bright on the pier. She thought she heard sirens, but they faded away again.

  Please. She wasn’t sure who she was begging under her breath. Please not him.

  Kitty wanted to believe that the best of everything was waiting right around the bend, but deep down, she feared that life was arbitrary. Sometimes you got a good hand: a loving family, a man who didn’t cheat with your best friend, ears that didn’t stop working as you aged into your third or fourth decade of life. Sometimes your little sister went out for a swim and never came back.

  Then she saw him up at the top of the house, creeping along a peak towards the old woman who stood there in her nightgown.

  “Please come here,” she heard him say calmly. “The house is on fire.”

  “Yes, it is.” She looked at him. “Are you one of his friends? Are you one of them?”

  Leander crept closer. “Who? My parents own the house next door, just there.” He motioned casually with one hand.

  “Stay away from me,” she cried out, clutching her stomach. “I know you’re going to take him away.”

  Leander stopped, and Kitty saw Mr. Candlewick appear behind him. He looked strange in the darkness. His back was straight and he didn’t seem to be moving as stiffly.