by Jan Fields
“We found some things,” Annie said. “And we came back early thinking we could get the police to do a more serious search.”
“You’ve been to the police again?” Mary Beth said.
“For as much good as it did us,” Annie answered, her voice angry.
“The chief isn’t taking this seriously,” Ian added as he walked around the car to join them. “Or else he’s hiding things.”
“So what did you find?” Mary Beth said.
“Alice’s scarf and Jim’s cane,” Annie answered. Then she took a deep breath. “We think there is blood on the cane.”
Mary Beth gasped. “Blood. And the police don’t care?”
“We don’t know whose blood it is,” Ian answered, “or even what kind of blood it is. We need more allies around here. Ellie helped, but she’s barely more than a child.”
“But from something Chief Harper said, we think Nora Harlow might help,” Annie said.
Mary Beth nodded, still looking a little stunned. Together they began to walk toward the inn, so Mary Beth dropped her voice. “That’s a lot to take in. I’ve been poking around here, looking for Alice and Jim’s luggage, but nothing so far. And Stella has been a little busy.”
“Busy?” Annie said.
“Apparently Mrs. Ayers has a big brother,” Mary Beth said, a smile creeping over her face. “He showed up at breakfast, and he’s quite taken with Stella.”
“Our Stella?” Annie repeated. “How’s she handling it.”
“At first, she was appalled,” Mary Beth said. “But when he offered to take her on the tour of the inn and grounds—well, it sounded like the perfect chance to hunt for luggage.”
“How did that go?” Annie asked.
“It’s still going.” Mary Beth nodded pointedly toward the back grounds of the inn. Annie looked in the direction she indicated and spotted Stella walking at the side of a tall white-haired man who had Stella’s hand tucked in the crook of his arm, much like Annie had walked with Ian in the police parking lot.
“He’s handsome,” Annie said with a grin.
“And charming,” Mary Beth added.
Just then Stella must have caught sight of them standing together in the parking lot. She waved, and then gestured for them to come join her. Annie leaned close to Mary Beth as they walked. “Do I smell like a swamp?” she asked. “I keep smelling it.”
Mary Beth took a quick sniff and shook her head. “No, you’re fine,” she looked over at Ian. “Maybe it’s Ian. His pant legs look a little suspicious.”
Annie glanced down at Ian’s lower pant leg, remembering the sound of him splashing into the swampy water. The denim was definitely darker from just above his knees to his feet. And his shoes were disgusting. Annie realized that’s where the smell was coming from.
They reached Stella just as their friend gently slipped her hand free of Mrs. Ayer’s brother. “Charles, I’d like you to meet my friends Annie Dawson and Ian Butler,” Stella said. “Ian is the mayor of Stony Point.” Ian nodded at the older man, and Annie could see they were nearly eye to eye. “Annie, Ian, I’d like you to meet Charles Bonneau. He’s Mrs. Ayers’s brother.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Charles Bonneau said, bowing slightly. “I’ve always thought the South had the most lovely ladies in the world, but Stella has proved my theory incorrect. And now I see still more evidence with you, Mrs. Dawson.”
“Well, technically, I spent more years living in Texas than Maine,” Annie said, raising an eyebrow at the older man’s shameless flattery.
“Charles and I found the oddest thing in the back outbuilding,” Stella said. “Several pieces of luggage. They were tucked behind some old boards. We’re on the way to ask his sister about it.”
“It does seem an odd place to store unclaimed luggage,” Charles said. “We need to move it inside before the weather destroys it.”
“That is odd,” Annie said. “Maybe we could all hear what Mrs. Ayers says?”
“Why on earth would you be interested in unclaimed luggage?” Charles asked. “I’m certain we’re not having an auction.”
“We have two friends who have gone missing,” Ian said. “We know they stayed here. If the pieces you saw belong to them, we’re very interested.”
“My friend had lovely luggage,” Annie said. “A matched set. I saw it several times. The suitcases had a floral brocade pattern.”
“Then it sounds like we may indeed have found your friend’s luggage,” Charles said. “Let us go and see if Suzanne can enlighten us about this.”
The tall man’s straight posture and long-limbed stride made him seem much younger than his lined face implied. He led them through a back door of the inn that opened into a small mudroom. He kept walking, and they entered a large kitchen. He called, “Suzanne! Are you back here?”
Mrs. Ayers raised up from where she had been pulling pans out of a cupboard. “I’m right here, Charles. You don’t need to bellow.” When she caught sight of Annie and the rest, she froze. “Charles, do you have to drag guests through the private parts of the house?”
“I was giving the lovely Mrs. Brickson a tour,” Charles said. “And we found some luggage in the back outbuilding. Apparently it belongs to friends of these people.”
Mrs. Ayers looked alarmed but recovered quickly. “The luggage belonged to a couple who left suddenly without checking out. I was hoping they would return to claim the luggage and help settle on exactly how much they owe. I’m not really a storage company.”
“So Alice MacFarlane and Jim Parker did stay here,” Annie said.
“Yes,” Mrs. Ayers answered. “They checked in, spent the night in the two downstairs rooms, went on some sort of excursion the next morning, and didn’t return. I left their rooms open for a couple days and called the lady’s cellphone number, but it rolled to voice mail. Then I opened the rooms to rent again.”
“So you say they only stayed one night,” Annie said.
“I say it because it’s true,” Mrs. Ayers answered.
“Why didn’t you say this before we found the luggage?” Mary Beth asked.
Mrs. Ayers put her hands on her hips, her voice firm. “You didn’t ask about your friends until just now.”
“But you didn’t tell Chief Edwards when he called from Stony Point either,” Ian said. “He called all of the inns in and around Preacher’s Reach and reported that every single one said Jim and Alice had not stayed with them.
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Ayers snapped. “No one called. No one asked. And I don’t like your tone.”
Charles raised his hands and spoke to his sister in consoling tones. “We all need to calm down a bit,” he said. “We should bring the luggage into the inn—storing it in the outbuilding is a dreadful idea anyway. Between the weather and the vermin, the luggage would be covered in mold and tattered in a week. We’ll bring it in and open it up.”
“We certainly will not,” Mrs. Ayers said. “We have no proof these people are friends of those others. I will not be sued by someone for poking around in their luggage.”
“Didn’t you have to pack the bags when you took them from the room?” asked Annie.
“No,” she said. “They were completely packed. I just moved them.”
“Clearly we have a mystery here,” Charles said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “And since I own this inn just slightly more than you do, dear sister. I’m going to overrule you. We’ll bring in the luggage and check it out!”
“Charles!” Mrs. Ayers nearly shouted. “We will not.”
“She was always bossy,” he said to Stella. “Come on, let’s go and get the bags.”
He spun and marched back out the back door and across the back lawn. His sister followed close behind him, shouting at him the whole way, but he paid her no more attention than he would give a buzzing insect. Annie and the others followed the brother and sister to the outbuilding.
Ian stepped forward to help Charles lift the bags from behi
nd the stacked boards. Annie could clearly see the boards had been arranged to help conceal the luggage. When she saw the floral pattern on two of the bags, she said, “Those are definitely Alice’s.”
By this point, Mrs. Ayers had resorted to swatting her brother on the arm, but he still ignored her. His face was alight with the excitement of solving the mystery. He handed two of the bags to Ian and carried the other two himself. “Let’s take these inside and see what secrets they have.”
The men carried the bags indoors, and Stella offered her room as a quiet place to search the bags. Charles gave her a rakish grin. “I was hoping to see your room, dear lady,” he said. “This isn’t quite the way I had hoped to see it, but it’s very exciting just the same.”
Stella seemed speechless at this bit of flirting and just led them to the room silently, her cheeks unusually pink. The men set the bags on the floor, and Charles fetched towels from the bathroom to spread out on the bed quilt to place the bags on. The outside of the luggage was soiled and cobwebby from their days in the shed.
When Ian unzipped Alice’s large bag, Annie gasped. She knew her friend was a neat and organized packer. It’s one of the things Alice was especially proud of. But the contents of the bag were crammed. Alice’s blouses were wrinkled, and someone had put a dirty pair of shoes on top of the clean clothes. The whole bag stunk of the same smell Ian had carried back from Fuller’s Island.
“Whew,” Mary Beth said. “They stink like swamp.”
“Which means they came back from the island,” Annie said, turning to look at Mrs. Ayers. “They came back with dirty swamp-stained clothes. And Alice didn’t pack this bag. She wouldn’t treat her things this way.”
“Suzanne,” Charles said, his face puzzled, “what is going on here? Did you pack this bag? Are there things you need to tell us?”
“I told you all I know about the bags,” Mrs. Ayers said, backing away from the group. “And if those people create any trouble, it’s on your head, Charles. I tried.” She spun and stalked out of the room.
“We should go after her,” Mary Beth said, “and shake the truth out of her.”
“I wouldn’t normally be in favor of acting like ruffians,” Stella said, “but I would make an exception in this case.”
“I would shake her for you,” Charles said, “if it would do any good at all. Suzanne has been stubborn since she was a child. I once saw her hold her breath until she passed out.” He shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll get any answers from her. But I don’t know what’s going on. Suzanne is stubborn, but she’s not a dishonest person.”
“Someone is scaring people out of talking to us,” Annie said, “and out of helping us. Your sister isn’t the only one lying in Preacher’s Reach. What do you know about Fuller’s Island?”
“Fuller’s Island?” Charles looked surprised. “It’s deserted. There are all sorts of silly ghost stories attached to it. It was the place for teenaged boys to prove their courage to shrieking girlfriends at one time. But mostly it’s not really very interesting, unless you like watching bricks fall out of walls.”
“You’ve been there?” Stella asked.
“My dear, at one time or another, nearly everyone at Preacher’s Reach has been there,” he grinned. “As I said, it was the place for young men to take their young ladies. You’d be amazed how pleasant it is to have some trembling girl fling herself on you when you’re a young man.”
“It’s also the place where our friends went,” Annie said. “And the last place we know of them being.”
“They disappeared on the island?” Charles asked.
“We believe so,” Ian said. “We know they were there several times over the course of a few days. We don’t know much else.”
“Have you spoken with Chief Harper?” Charles asked.
“He wasn’t a lot of help,” Ian said dryly.
Charles sighed. “He can be a bit lazy. He likes it best when no one rocks the boat too much.”
“So far, you’re almost the only one who’s been helpful,” Annie said. “You and Nora Harlow.” She didn’t mention Ellie, since the girl had been so worried about being found helping them.
“Nora? Beatrice’s daughter?” Charles said. “I hear she’s grown up to be a fine girl.”
“We’re hoping she can help us get back out to the island,” Ian said.
“Back?” Charles echoed.
“We were out there this morning,” Ian said. “But we’re not traveling the same way again.”
“Well, if it’s a boat you’re needing,” Charles said, “maybe I can help. I could call around and see what I can find. Though I don’t know how much help I’ll be in storming the island and rescuing your friends. I’m a little old for heroics.”
“If you can help us get a boat, you’ll be hero enough for me,” Annie said.
“Thank you, dear,” Charles said. He turned to smile mischievously at Stella. “But will I be hero enough for you?”
“I’ll let you know,” Stella said.
Charles’s smile grew. “Then just let me make some calls.”
15
Mother was not a malleable woman. She lacked the soft weakness that a woman of her station was expected to have. I believe Father admired that in her. But even so, she was ultimately subject to my father’s wishes, and he wished her to return to the island. He wished me to face my fears. I believe he meant it for my good. I believe it was also to be his redemption. His own fears shamed him. If we stood together against the stories, against the curse, then he would feel like a Fuller again—and feel as if he had done right by me as well.
—Steven Fuller, 1925
While Charles settled down in Stella’s room to make some calls under Stella and Mary Beth’s watchful eyes, Annie and Ian headed upstairs to shower and change. Annie wanted to track down Nora Harlow as soon as they were free of the swamp stink. She had the feeling they needed all the allies they could get.
They finally headed out to the newspaper office where they found Nora scribbling notes on paper and eating a sandwich. “Hey,” she said, her face lighting up when she saw them. “I think I found us a boat!”
“Great,” Annie said. “We’ve found a few things too.”
“Oh?” Nora’s glance sharpened, and she scooted a fresh piece of paper out of the pile. With pen poised over paper, she looked at Annie expectantly. “Shoot!”
“We went out to the island,” Annie said.
Nora’s eyebrows went up in surprise, but she didn’t ask any questions and just waited for Annie to continue.
“We found one of Alice’s scarves and a cane that I know belongs to Jim,” Annie said. “The cane has blood on it, or something that looks a lot like blood.”
“That sounds bad,” Nora said. “Have you told Chief Harper?”
“He was less than alarmed,” Ian said. “He promised to send someone out to check the island again, when he got around to it.”
Nora shook her head. “He’s been stonewalling me too. People are acting weird. People I wouldn’t expect it of.”
“We found something else too,” Annie said. “Alice and Jim’s luggage. It was stashed in a shed on the Preacher’s Rest property. Mrs. Ayers said they just left it behind, all packed up—but we looked in the suitcases. Alice wouldn’t have just thrown her things into a bag the way they were. And there was swamp mud on one of her pairs of shoes.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Nora said. “We need to get back out to the island. My friend can let me use his boat tomorrow, but then he has to have it back. He heads down to the Florida Keys for the winter, and it’s time for him to go. I got him to postpone a day, but that’s all we get.”
“We’ll be ready,” Ian said.
“For now, I’m heading over to Bob Maynard’s boat rentals,” Nora said. “I’ve known him all my life. If he’s going to lie to me, he needs to do it to my face.”
“Can we come?” Annie asked.
“You’d be welcome,” Nora said.
&
nbsp; On the ride out to the boat rental, Nora asked more questions about Jim and Alice, taking notes as Annie spoke. Ian threw in a remark now and then, but mostly he concentrated on driving.
Nora laughed out loud when Annie told her what had started Jim’s interest in the island. “The Fuller Family History?” she asked. “I read that years ago. My mom has a copy in her collection. That guy was a piece of work. The whole family sounded a little whacko in the book.”
“He certainly seemed to take the curse very seriously,” Annie said.
“Of course,” Nora added generously, “He was just a little kid when all that curse garbage started.”
“So you don’t think the family was cursed?” Ian asked.
“Even my mom doesn’t totally buy the curse,” Nora said. “And she thinks Preacher’s Reach is visited by aliens regularly. Now, I believe some of the old local families were into some strange stuff. There’s a belief in witchy stuff that goes way back in a lot of Southern bloodlines. Folks brought all that stuff from Europe; they mixed it in with different mystical beliefs that run all through this area. Basically, the South loves ghost stories.”
“But you’re less open-minded?” Ian asked.
“I tend to believe in what I can see,” Nora said. “But I like to listen. And I love a good story. At any rate, whatever is keeping your friends from getting back to you, I don’t think it’s ghosts or devil dogs.”
“I don’t think it is either,” Ian said.
“Do you still have that cane?” Nora asked.
“Yes, the chief was less than interested in examining it,” Ian said.
“I know someone who could run some tests on the blood,” Nora said. “I think she could tell us for sure if it was blood and maybe if it was human blood. She’s a biology teacher at the high school, but she was a researcher before that.”
“A researcher turned high school teacher?” Ian asked.
Nora shrugged. “She got homesick and said she was tired of the politics of research. Of course, now she has to deal with the politics of teaching.”