by Robin Shope
“Roxie, that can’t be good for either of us.”
“It won’t be good for us if you leave. Where will you go?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t stay here. I’ve ruined things.”
“Your home is here.”
“I wanted it to be here. I did. But it’s too hard. And—I’ve betrayed you.”
“I don’t care. I forgive you. I give you back my trust.” Now tears ran down Roxie’s face.
“But don’t you see, you don’t have my trust. I’m so sorry. There are just too many secrets, too many hurtful words have been spoken, and not enough true words have been offered.”
An awkward pause followed.
Wynn’s face burned with tears.
“Please.” Roxie looked forlorn.
Wynn’s heart went out to her, but she couldn’t offer empty promises. She glanced at her watch again. “Sorry, I have to go and meet someone.” Wynn returned to the Tree House where Clara waited with Sailor.
21
Clara’s Levis hugged her ample hips. A pretty lace top with see-through sleeves was in keeping with the clean slip-on shoes which had buttons at the toes. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy manner, held there by a single clip. Her smile was wide, punctuated with dimples on each side of her mouth. Of course, she expected to have lunch with Doug.
“Hey, Wynn. I’ve got your little guy here with a clean bill of health.” Clara smiled. “What’s wrong? You look troubled.”
“You haven’t heard about Doug?”
“No. I called his cell right before you. No answer. I even drove by his place, but his truck wasn’t there. I thought he might be waiting here with you.”
“His truck is impounded. Something terrible happened.”
“Oh no, what? Tell me.” Clara reached for her hand.
“Doug is OK. There was a body found on his schooner, and the police are holding him for questioning.”
“When did this happen?” Clara’s hand went over her heart.
“While taking the ferry back from your place. Wynn explained what the others had told her. “The police took him right off the boat. He should be arraigned soon. His lawyer says he expects charges should be dropped. But you never know. That’s what worries me.”
“Poor Doug. Can he have visitors?”
“I’m not sure. Can you stay until the morning? Maybe we can visit him together. I’ve wanted to see him.”
“I have to get back to take care of my cats, so I can’t do an overnight. But if I can catch the later ferry over in a few hours, I might have time to stop by the jail.”
“Doug can use all the support he can get.”
“Come on. Let’s get the kitten settled. We can talk about this later. Let’s try to calm down so Sailor doesn’t pick up on our tension. We want the first introduction to your place to be a positive one.”
“No negative vibes.” Wynn agreed. “Come on, follow me.”
Wynn had placed fresh food and water down for Sailor in the bathroom. A few feet away was the new litter box. Serving as a secure hideaway, Wynn had placed a fuzzy rug for the kitten to curl up in.
“Looks good.” Clara glanced about the room. “We’ll sit in here for a few minutes while Sailor becomes acclimated to the surroundings.” She set the cage on the floor and closed the bathroom door. “Because Sailor is still young, he has a chance of being tamed, but I still wouldn’t bet on it happening quickly. Show patience, he has had little or no human contact. Allow Sailor to initiate contact with you. He will approach when he is ready.”
“How long will that take?”
“It could take weeks or months, if ever.” Clara looked a bit sad. “You need patience. Lots of it. When you feed Sailor, sit on the floor with him, like I’m doing now. Try to get him to associate food with you. Also play. Get a soft interactive toy so he will start associating you with fun. When he’s ready to be touched, rub his shoulders and the back of his neck. It releases endorphins.” Clara slowly opened the door on the cage.
They watched as the kitten stayed huddled at the back.
“You’ll do fine. Just take your time.” She told Wynn.
“I will. I really appreciate all your help. How much do I owe you?”
“Doug took care of it.” Clara looked away. “Poor Doug. I hope the situation resolves itself quickly.”
“Me, too.”
“He’s such an incredible guy. Creative. Don’t you love Doug’s lighthouse?”
“I’ve only seen it off the coast.”
“He’s never taken you there? I can’t believe he hasn’t shown you the place. He is so proud of where he lives.”
“I’d love to see it. Do you think we could drive by today?”
“Sure, come on, let’s go for a drive.” She closed the door.
The sixty foot lighthouse had been restored. Painted red and trimmed in black horizontal stripes, the foundation was on a small peninsula filled with eddy stones. The cupola lantern room roof had been restored as well as the spiral staircase.
They walked around the base of the building, and Clara tugged on the door. “Darn. Doug usually leaves it unlocked. Weird he didn’t this time.”
The grass along the shore was bright green. Waves crashed against the seawall and the spray blew in Wynn’s face, making her feel the earth itself would rise up and embrace her. “Maybe he wanted it secure before leaving for the mainland a few days ago. He knew it would be a full day trip to your place and back.”
“It never bothered him in the past. We even got into an argument about it once. By the way, I was wondering something.”
“What?”
“Are you and Doug serious? Ah, you don’t need to answer that. I’m just being nosy, now.”
“I don’t mind answering. If I were to define our relationship, I would say we’re mainly friends, with the hope of something more. At least, that’s how I feel.”
“It’s nice to start out that way; as friends.” Clara led the way back to her truck.
“Is that how you two started out?”
“Ah, golly no. It just quickly ran its course.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘running its course’.”
“The flames blew out. Fast. In less than a year.”
“What happened?” Wynn recalled Roxie’s words. “Was there someone else?”
“No. No one for either of us. We just decided we didn’t have enough in common, we were too far apart with how we viewed life.”
“I heard that there was a crush on some young woman.”
“Who told you that? Oh wait; there was a rumor once before we split. It was when he bought the schooner. He bought it from a man on the mainland. I think he had a daughter who had a crush on Doug. But he wasn’t interested. She did start nasty rumors, though. Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Might be. I heard that rumor just today.”
“These island people need to stop the gossip. Listen, I didn’t leave because of anything Doug did or didn’t do. I left because I wanted to be on my own. I am a pretty self-sufficient gal and I hate anyone being in my business, or in my space. But in my opinion, Doug needs someone to share a space with. You might be the one for him.”
Wynn felt a blush rising on her cheeks.
“Come on, I’ll take you back to your place. I’ll check on Sailor one more time before heading back.”
At the Tree House, they hugged goodbye.
Wynn promised to stay in touch with Clara about Doug’s situation.
As Clara backed out she called out the window. “If he needs me, I will come in a moment’s notice. I’ll let him know that about you, too.”
22
Roxie had influence.
Wynn thought it might be worth a try for Roxie to use that with the judge on Doug’s case. Wynn called, but there was no answer at her aunt’s house. There was a possibility Roxie was avoiding her.
Wynn opened the bathroom door carefully to prevent Sailor from flying out, and just as
quick, she shut it again as she stepped inside.
Sailor preferred to be invisible, pressed against the wall that was nearly the same color as him.
She held out a pungent treat of tuna that made his whiskers stir. Wynn placed a small piece in front of him.
Sailor moved forward, and then took the food.
Wynn left another piece of tuna, but this time he snatched the food before returning to the wall.
“How I would love to touch you, but I better wait.” Wynn undressed and filled the bathtub with chamomile bath salts. The moment her body sank into the water, she nearly moaned in relief. The tension in her shoulders began to ebb.
Unfortunately, the water did nothing to relax her brain. She kept thinking about Doug. If the police found more evidence pointing to his guilt, he’d certainly be sitting in jail until trial. It seemed impossible for Doug to hurt another human, considering how protective he was of her on the island, but did she really know him enough to make that assumption? Was he planning to dump Boone overboard where he would never be found? If so, why did he wait?
What would be the motive? Could the so-called ‘priceless’ ring, that hardly a soul had ever viewed, be the motive for murder?
And Roxie was adamant about his untrustworthiness.
Wynn rung out a washcloth and folded it in half to lie across her forehead as she dipped further into the bath.
The body was found on Doug’s schooner. Surely, the police would realize it was placed there after the fact. Boone had died weeks ago, and Doug had taken her out on the schooner since then. Which raised another question: where had the body been kept in the meantime? The questions raised by the Bible study ladies kept circling.
“Meow.”
She opened her eyes to the kitten sitting on top of the closed toilet lid staring at her. “Progress.” She whispered.
After her bath, Wynn shut the door so the kitten would feel safe. Before she fell into bed, she tried Roxie again, but just as before, no one answered. Next, she called Owl to see if Doug had been charged or released, but Owl’s answering machine picked up. Wynn left a message.
A paw poked from beneath the closed bathroom door. She knelt down to touch the soft, furry pad, and then two paws appeared. Wynn quickly touched one again, enjoying the warm softness of its coat before the kitten jerked it away.
How nice it would be to sleep with the kitten. But it had to be on her terms. She opened the door and returned to bed, turning off lamps along the way.
By the light of the moon, she was able to keep track of the kitten’s movements. He disappeared into the shadow of the room. Quiet followed.
Wynn lay still, hoping the kitten would jump up on the bed and find a comfortable sleeping spot, but nothing happened.
Wynn slept fitfully. Hours later when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the kitten sitting near her face.
“Hi there, Sweetie.” Wynn kept her voice low and soft. She held still while the kitten stared. Wynn lifted one shoulder off the bed. “I can’t wait to hold you.” She moved her fingers slightly which sent the kitten skidding across the floor and back into the bathroom.
Wynn got breakfast for Sailor. “Yes, it’s me feeding you. Make that brain imprint please.” Then she made toast and chugged a glass of milk while scanning her recent notes.
The TV news pulled her attention. News reporters from as far away as Florida had ferried over to get the latest. There were TV crews and dozens of curious citizens standing outside the one room police station. A barricade had been set up to keep everyone at bay. If Wynn hadn’t been so concerned about Doug, she might have found the scene rather amusing. Even the island curse was mentioned.
The next few days Wynn became absorbed in her work, cataloging specimens, writing up notes, taking breaks to eat, sleep and play with Sailor. She could do nothing to help Doug, except wait for whatever was to come.
On a clear afternoon as she ate a sandwich the decorative container caught her eye. Marilyn and Jackie were both looking for the ruby ring. What if it was inside the container? Wynn grabbed a sharp knife from the drawer and worked at the lock, Sailor sniffing at her toes.
At last it popped. She pulled off the lock and tugged at the lid, but it was jammed. She snatched a bottle opener from the utensil drawer. The lid gave way and clattered to the floor sending Sailor back to the bathroom.
She removed the old cotton. An instrument with miniature gears, roller, and a crank was in there. Wynn turned the little crank and music played in light tones.
It was the song her mother always sang. The song she had lost the words to, ‘true till death.’ A warm happy feeling suffused as some of the words came to her “I put my dreams in down by the water. That’s where I’ll find him.”
Her cell buzzed. Wynn looked at the number and snatched up the phone. “Doug, where are you?”
“Wynn, could you meet me at the lighthouse tomorrow morning?”
She agreed, filled with curiosity. The next morning, she raced out of the Tree House and down the lane.
He drank strong coffee, she drank tea. They sat on the ledge of the cupola lantern roof room of the lighthouse. He had fabulous views out of every window but the view from the top was the most amazing. She looked out at blue sky that curved into the spinning motion of the waves. It was mesmerizing.
“Do you think heaven is like this?”
“Blue water? Tea? Coffee?”
“No, silly.” She nudged him. “Perfect.”
“Heaven is perfect, but I’m not so sure you can compare it to the sea. Water can be very dangerous—looks calm and inviting on the surface, but once you get in it, the pull can take you places you don’t want to go. More than one person has lost their life to it. It’s good to be here with you.”
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
“No, that answer was too automatic.” She picked up his hand. “I want to know how you really are.”
“It was tough, but it’s going to be tougher with everyone wondering if I really killed Boone, and if I didn’t, why his body was found on my schooner.”
“Do you have any answers?”
“No clue and cannot think of one person on this island who would do harm to another, especially not to Boone. He was a mild mannered, honest businessman. Likeable guy.”
Every morning before she got out of bed and each night before she fell asleep, she prayed for Doug. It was a secret between herself and God.
“Do you think God hears all our prayers?”
“Of course. No doubt about it.”
“That’s good, then.” She studied his face. The fixed set of his lips. The robust line of shoulders. The gaze of a man who knew what he was about. Deep gray eyes that had an air of secrecy. Even though tired, he looked handsomely roughed to Wynn; he was freshly showered with a smile that ruined her.
She leaned forward. The small space between them sparked.
He ran his fingers through his short hair and expelled a pent up breath, as though he felt the same electricity.
“Doug, I want to make your day.”
“Sounds interesting.” He moved closer until their hips touched. “Give it a whirl.”
“I think this whole mystery has to do with the missing ruby ring.”
“Are you referring to the ring that once belonged to my family?”
“There are paintings at the Inn by Anna Reed which shows her wearing it.”
A gleam came into Doug’s eyes. The satisfaction on his face made Wynn smile. Something slow and tender in her chest unfurled.
“I found out there are more of Anna’s pictures in an art gallery in Greenbay.”
“We should go look at them.” Doug pronounced. “You and me.”
“We should.”
“When will this take place?” he asked.
“After the funeral we’ll ride over there to look at them.”
23
Wynn hit the gravel at the side of the road, inhaling sharply at the chilly sting of t
he night air. Then she was off and running while thinking about Doug and the unexpected connection she felt with him.
She’d been focused since she was a child on saving plant and animal life, especially the endangered species. It became her mission.
Doug listened to what she had to say; comforted her, shared the love of the sea, had a common goal of protecting the environment—and now, perhaps he needed her. They needed each other.
Was love blooming? Only time would tell.
She ran for a long time, with the lake air cool and fresh against her cheeks. Finally, she stood along the rocky coastal cliffs taking in the panoramic view and fully understanding why people wanted to live here; why Roxie never left. Wynn looked down the shore and noticed Roxie’s lights were still on so she headed in that direction.
The Bible study women were clustered around Roxie’s TV set, eating their dessert of the week, fresh key lime pie. They were listening to the latest about Douglas Reed’s release from custody. As Wynn walked into the room, Roxie gave a small nod of greeting.
Wynn opened her mouth to give Jackie her condolences, but was quickly shushed and handed a piece of pie.
When the segment was over, the women turned away from the TV.
“I thought you met in the mornings.” Wynn took a bite of pie.
“It was an impromptu meeting.” Roxie smoothed her skirt. “I tried calling you, dear.”
“I don’t run with my cell.”
“It was so impromptu that I was ready for bed when the call came.” Owl patted her hair, still wound in pink foam rollers. Her frame was covered by a dark muumuu with a yellow-paisley print.
“I’m so thankful I have Boone’s body to bury.” Jackie’s gaze flickered around the room.
“Owl, I’ve spent the day with Doug and am relieved he’s doing well and feeling positive about his situation. And Jackie, I’m here for you if you, too, if you need anything.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I will need anything from you, or from Doug, for that matter.” Jackie snipped.
“What are you implying?” Wynn looked at Jackie as all the other women studied their feet.
“You just made it perfectly clear that you feel Doug is innocent. I am not pointing the finger at him, but he hasn’t been cleared, either. Until this matter is straightened out, I won’t be having either of you to my home. Surely you and Roxie, and the rest of the women here understand my feelings. Right?”