The Seasons of the EmmaLee: One grand ship. Two love affairs, decades apart. An idyllic summer resort town torn apart by betrayal, murder and shattered dreams. (The Charlevoix Summer Series Book 1)

by Michael Lindley

  “Look, the chef was able to run out and pick up some nice steaks for our Texas friend, a little fresh sweet corn and some charcoal for a good old-fashioned barbecue. Thought we might cruise out a ways into Lake Charlevoix and light up the grill.”

  “Sounds great!”

  “It’s you and me and the new happy couple.”

  “Oh boy, a night out with Mary Alice.”

  “Megan met a new friend in the park this afternoon and the family invited her up for dinner at their house over near where you live. Seemed like nice people, the Baileys.”

  “Old Charlevoix summer family. Very nice folks. No relation to Mary Alice Gregory.”

  “Be kind,” Alex said. “She may be just what the doctor ordered for the wild child, Kramer. How about eight o’clock?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Sally had time to get home for a quick shower and change of clothes. She found a summer skirt and blouse and a sweater for later if a chill came in off the big lake. There had been no messages from Gwen back at the shop, or on her phone machine when she got home.

  She was thinking of Gwen as she walked over the drawbridge and looked out at the parade of boats making their way in and out of Charlevoix’s little harbor. What if Alex Clark had never come back to Charlevoix? Was she destined to spend the rest of her life here with Gwen? They had never discussed much beyond the coming season, she thought. One season, then one year had led to the next and suddenly years had passed. She knew she already missed her friend and partner... and lover. It pained her to think about what hurt she may be causing her.

  She stopped midway across the bridge, looking out toward Lake Michigan and another beautiful sunset in full bloom. Her thoughts wandered to new possibilities and new sunsets on new horizons.

  The EmmaLee rested calmly about a mile offshore from the old train depot in Charlevoix. Years earlier, a great hotel had spread across the high bank above the depot and had attracted people from around the world to enjoy its elegance and magnificent views of Lake Charlevoix. As with many of the great resort hotels in the north, it had passed its prime and been demolished many years ago. Private homes now lined the hillside.

  The crew of the EmmaLee had set a beautiful table for four on the rear deck. They put torches of citronella candles all along the rails to light the dining area and keep away the bugs. A James Taylor album played softly over the ship’s sound system. The four diners had been enjoying a new wine from Australia Alex had suggested with their first course of salads. The men were dressed in sport coats and white shirts with no tie. Mary Alice had surprised no one by wearing an outrageously low-cut dress that exposed much of her surgically enhanced assets.

  “Damn if those steaks don’t smell like down home in Austin,” Louis said.

  “You haven’t been to Austin in twenty years, Louis,” Alex teased.

  “Them’s my roots, son.”

  Mary Alice squirmed a bit to adjust her short skirt. “Sally, did you know Louie’s family was actually in the oil business back in Texas?”

  “No, Louie, I didn’t know that about you. Were you a wildcatter?” Sally asked, grinning.

  “Didn’t cotton much to the ol’ bidness. Went east, met this young fella at school and damned if we didn’t figure out another way to make a buck in all this internet nonsense.”

  “Let’s not get bogged down in business tonight, but old Louie here has put together quite a proposal for a new venture,” Alex said. “We’re going to meet some folks back in New York next week to discuss putting some money into this new deal. You never cease to amaze me, Louie!”

  “You can call me Louis, sir. Only my closest friends, like Ms. Gregory here are allowed such intimacies.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She giggled her big girl giggle and beamed with pride at her latest catch.

  “Mary Alice and I are flying out tomorrow to Miami,” Louis said. “I was telling her about my place down in Ocean Reef and damned if her folks don’t have a place down there, too. Thought we might take a little cruise down through the Keys before I have to get back up to New York next week. Alex has seen my boat. Nothin’ like the EmmaLee here, but plenty comfortable for two.”

  Sally noticed his hand slide over onto Mary Alice’s bare thigh. She felt tempted to inform Mr. Kramer that Mary Alice had two ex-husbands with places down in Florida, but decided he probably wouldn’t care anyway.

  Mary Alice slid over closer to Louis. Sally saw that look in her eye she knew meant trouble.

  “Alex, a few days ago you were talking about your place down in Florida,” Mary Alice began, trying to hide a wicked grin. “Where did you say, Boca Raton?”

  “That’s right,” Alex answered, almost under his breath.

  “Didn’t you say one of your old assistants was living down there now, kind of taking care of the place? What was her name… Sylvia?”

  Sally felt like an ice pick was stuck straight into her heart. She swallowed hard and tried not to show any emotion. Mary Alice just smiled at her, waiting for a response from Alex. She looked over at him for some sign of reassurance, but he wouldn’t make eye contact. He continued to look down into the wine he was swirling in his glass. She was amazed he wouldn’t just come out and be honest with her about the situation. What else will I learn about Alex Clark tonight?

  Louis obviously sensed the volatility of the situation and went into a diffusion mode. “Yeah, Sylvia used to work for us. She ran one of our companies down in Miami.”

  Sally was trying with all her will to remain calm. She knew Alex certainly had a life before they had met, just as she had, but why couldn’t he be honest with her about it? Finally, she couldn’t stand to sit silently any longer. “Yes, Alex, tell us about your place in Boca Raton.”

  He looked up slowly from his wine and exchanged an odd look with his friend, Louis Kramer. He took a long drink, then turned to Sally. “Yes, I’ve had a house down there for years on the Intercoastal. I keep a boat down there.” He paused, taking another sip of wine. “When Louis and I sold our business down in Miami a year ago, Sylvia Lasser was looking for a place to stay and I asked her to house-sit for me.”

  Sally had to bite her tongue and she wanted to reach out and strangle Mary Alice, who was watching Alex squirm and obviously enjoying every minute of it. She refused to let her emotions show. “That’s very generous of you,” was all she could manage.

  The rest of the evening had been strained at best for Sally, but Mary Alice and Louis continued their new obsession with each other as if nothing had happened. The EmmaLee was tied up again at the dock by midnight. Sally quickly made her way to leave. Alex walked with her, the first time they had been able to be alone since dinner. He reached for her arm as they walked along the rail, but she pulled away. He finally stopped her.

  “Sally, I need to apologize for what happened earlier. There is some history down in Florida that frankly, I was just embarrassed I hadn’t told you about earlier.”

  Sally just nodded, trying to collect her thoughts.

  “Our ‘friend’ Mary Alice, made it seem like some clandestine kind of thing,” he said, holding both of her arms gently.

  “You have no need to try to apologize for her rude behavior, or your life and the way you choose to live it,” she said, trying her best to keep her anger at bay. “Thank you for dinner. I’m exhausted and really need to get home.” She turned and pulled away.

  Alex didn’t try to stop her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Connor Harris was brought in for questioning later that night. We were told he came quietly. I waited in the lobby of the sheriff’s office with Emily Compton and the attorney, David Krupp. I can remember the emotions racing through my mind that night. The rage in my heart was tempered by the reassuring possibility that my friend Jonathan McKendry could be freed by the end of the night.

  Sheriff Potts came out at a little past eleven.

  “We’re driving Harris home now,” he said, as he sat with George, Emily and Krupp,
the lawyer.

  “You’re letting him go!” screamed George Hansen, jumping up from his chair.

  The sheriff motioned for him to sit back down. “George, we’ve got all the information we need from him tonight. We’re keeping his car so we can take a closer look at it in the morning.

  “What did he have to say, Sheriff?” Krupp asked.

  “You know I can’t share the specifics, but he’s got a pretty damn good story and alibi for that night. We’ll be checking it out tomorrow.”

  “How did he explain my sister’s earring in his car?” George asked.

  “Let’s just say he claims Catherine was in his car on several occasions recently, including earlier the night she was attacked. He dropped her at The Helm when she went in and met up with Jonathan.”

  Emily was shaking her head. “What was she doing riding around with Connor Harris? I didn’t even know they knew each other.”

  A deputy came out and signaled for Potts. “You all get home now and check back with me midday tomorrow. You let us worry about Connor Harris. We’ll have someone watching him tonight.” He walked out of the room with the deputy.

  David Krupp gave Emily a ride back to her home. It was close to midnight. The street lights had a soft halo showing through a light fog drifting in from Lake Michigan. She got out on the front lawn and thanked him for the ride. He offered to pick her up at nine in the morning to head back down to the jail.

  She watched as the lights from his car faded into the haze of the evening. She turned and looked up at the big house. Lights were out in most of the windows. Crickets seemed to surround her with their chirping.

  Her mind was racing in so many directions. Could Connor really be involved with this? What will he think when he finds out I went to the police? What will my family think? So much pointed to Connor…the big black car picking Catherine Hansen up on the street that night, the scratch and bruise on his face… and the earring. Connor has such a terrible temper at times… and God knows he had issues with the McKendrys. Could he really do something like this, just to get back at them?

  She walked across the lawn toward the house. Out of the dark shadows of the bushes around the porch she sensed motion and turned quickly as the prickly sensations of fear knifed through her veins.

  Connor’s face came into the light. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away into the shadows before she could do or say anything. She wanted to scream, but fear had taken her voice.

  “Emily, relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered, holding both of her arms.

  She was trembling and still couldn’t find words.

  “Emily, please, I just needed you to know I didn’t have anything to do with this. I couldn’t have you thinking I could do something like this.”

  “Connor, I…” she stammered.

  “Listen,” he said with more urgency. “I understand why you felt you had to go to the police. I know it doesn’t look good.”

  “How long have you known Catherine Hansen?” she asked.

  “We’ve kind of been seeing each other, off and on, for the past couple of summers.”

  She felt anger replacing her fear. “In other words, you’ve been sleeping with her behind Luke McKendry’s back, just to get back at him.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “My God, Connor, what were you thinking?”

  “Look, you just need to know I had nothing to do with her death. I dropped her at The Helm earlier that night. We had been together in my car out north of town at the beach. She said she had to meet someone at the bar and I dropped her there. I never saw her again. I swear to you, Emily!”

  “Sheriff Potts said they’d be watching you tonight.”

  “I slipped out a back window. I think the deputy was asleep anyway, but I need to get back.”

  “Connor, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. I just couldn’t stand having you think the wrong thing here.”

  She looked at his face and could just make out his features in the dark shadows. “You need to go.”

  He nodded and disappeared around the back of the house.

  She walked through the back door into the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the counter in his pajamas and a robe with a cup of coffee cradled in both hands. He looked up when he heard her enter. She could see the anger in his face immediately.

  “Emily, have you lost your mind!”

  “Daddy…”

  “I was on the phone earlier with Connor’s father. They told me you and that Hansen boy turned Connor in to the police for that girl’s murder.”

  “Her name is Catherine Hansen!” she said, losing her temper as well.

  “I know you have these crazy feelings for this McKendry boy, but turning in one of your best friends!”

  “Daddy, there were just so many things coming together that pointed to Connor. I found one of Catherine’s earrings in his car…”

  “Emily, stop! None of that had anything to do with this murder and I think you know that now. Do you realize what people are saying around here? You wouldn’t believe the looks and comments we got at the hotel during dinner tonight. First, you’re helping this local boy who’s probably a murderer and a rapist, and now you turn in one of our family’s best friends based on some wild notions you’ve cooked up with this other local kid.”

  “Daddy…” she tried to interrupt.

  “This has got to stop now!” he almost shouted he was so angry.

  Emily looked away. The clock over the sink said 12:30. She was exhausted. Her emotions were flying in all directions. She didn’t know who to believe or what to do anymore. Impulsively, she headed back toward the door. “I need to go see George Hansen.” She was out the door and into the car before her father could stop her.

  George was still up, sitting on the front porch when she pulled over to the curb. He looked up, wondering who it was. Emily got out of the car and walked up to the porch. George looked back down at the ground, his arms locked around his knees. She sat down next to him. The evening was still warm and comfortable. The haze from the lake had progressed to a deepening fog.

  “George, I had to see you. I just saw Connor.”

  He looked at her with a puzzled face. “I thought the police were watching…”

  “He slipped away from his house to come and see me.” She told him the story Connor shared with her earlier.

  “Harris had been seeing my sister?”

  Emily nodded.

  “I had no idea, and I’m not sure I believe it.”

  Emily put her head in her hands. “George, I’m not sure who, or what to believe anymore either. Do you think Luke had any idea about Catherine and Connor?”

  “I really don’t know. I didn’t know any of this was going on.”

  Emily stood and walked around for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. “If we go and talk to Luke about this and he didn’t know, it will only re-ignite the feud those two have had.”

  George finished her thought. “But, if he knew about Catherine and Harris, he may know a lot more about this whole situation than anyone thought.”

  They looked at each other for a while, considering the possibilities.

  George finally broke the silence. “I’m pretty sure I know where we can find him.”

  Emily and George walked into The Helm at a little after 1:00 a.m. As George had suspected, Luke was sitting at his regular spot at the bar. Smoke lay heavy across the air in a thick gray cloud. The music was turned up loud and two couples were dancing in the back. Bud the bartender stood across the bar from Luke, doing most of the talking.

  George led the way and sat down between Luke and Emily. Luke kept looking down into his beer.

  “Luke, hey it’s George.” No response. He pulled on Luke’s arm and spoke again, “Hey, it’s me!”

  Luke pulled his arm away suddenly and then slurred, “Wha’ the hell you want?” He turned to look at George and saw Emily Compton was with him. “
Who’s the bitch?”

  “Alright Luke… bad timing here,” said George. “You sober up tomorrow, you call me. We need to talk to you about Catherine.”

  “I ain’t got nothin’ else to say.” His head was weaving back and forth and his eyes were trying to focus on something to gain purchase. He seemed to gather some clarity for a moment and looked directly into George’s eyes. “George, I didn’ wanna tell ya this… but your sister was really messed up. She was gettin’ ta be a bigger drunk than me, and with the baby and all…”

  “You knew about the baby?” Emily asked.

  Luke turned his gaze over to her. “Yeah… I knew about that. She told me. She also tol’ me it wasn’t mine!” He turned and took a drink from his beer.

  “Did she say who the father was?” Emily asked.

  Bud tried to interrupt. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”

  They both said no.

  George turned Luke toward him again. “Luke, who was the father?”

  Luke looked at him for a moment and then shook his head, “How in hell would I know?”

  Emily sensed Luke knew far more than he was sharing. “Luke, this must be so hard for you. When was the last time you saw Catherine?”

  “George, who is this bitch?”

  “Luke, you know Emily, Emily Compton,” George said.

  “Yeah… right.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?” she asked again.

  He hesitated, took another drink and scratched his head looking across the bar at Bud. “We weren’t seein’ each other no more.”

  “That’s not what I asked you,” she persisted.

  “She told me the baby wasn’t mine and I told her to get lost!”

  Emily got up from her chair and walked around George to stand next to Luke. She leaned down near his face. “Did you see her that last day?”

  He shook his head no, looking straight forward.