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

  Bud chimed in. “Luke, you too drunk to remember coming in that night when she was here with Johnny? I never seen you come in here and leave so fast.”

  Luke looked up at Bud with contempt. “Yeah… I saw her here with Johnny. I asked her if she was gonna do my brother now, too… the stupid bitch.”

  “And you just left?” George asked.

  “Yeah, he was outta here in no time,” Bud said again.

  “I said the hell withum’ and got my ass outta here and over ta Shirley’s for the night.”

  Emily pulled on his arm to turn him to face her. “But you didn’t stay there all night did you?”

  “Wha’ the hell are you talkin’ about? I told Potts where I was and Shirley, she vouched for me.”

  Emily pressed on. “But you came back here later looking for Catherine, didn’t you?”

  “George, you better get this bitch outta my face, now!” he said, red veins beginning to bulge along the side of his neck and across his forehead. “Do you hear me, George?”

  “Luke, whose car did you drive back in?” Emily asked, pressing closer to him.

  He didn’t answer and instead reached for his beer.

  Emily felt fear surging through her, but felt she had to push on with him. “You must have been pretty upset to find out your girlfriend was having a baby with another man, then see her with her old boyfriend again… your own brother.”

  Luke’s expression began to turn slowly from rage to a blank confusion as he seemed to be considering her questions. Then, very softly he started to speak to no one in particular. “I tol’ her I’d forgive ‘er. I tol’ her we’d get over all this.” He paused, continuing to look on with a blank stare. “She was so damn drunk. She just kept tellin’ me to go ta hell!”

  Neither George nor Emily dared speak. They let him continue to rattle on. Bud seemed nearly as drunk as Luke and just listened.

  “The bitch is tellin’ me to go to hell…she’s the one droppin’ her pants all over town. That asshole, Harris…”

  “She told you about Connor Harris?” Emily asked, breathlessly.

  “Damn right she tol’ me about Harris. She tol’ me she did him that same day… in the car out at the Point.”

  “So, you took her back out there that night,” Emily said. It wasn’t a question.

  Luke slowly seemed to focus as he considered what she’d said and obviously realized he’d said enough.

  He stood suddenly and pushed her away. She caught her leg on George’s bar stool and fell to the floor, sliding on the slippery beer-soaked surface.

  “Get out of my face!” He reached for his glass, took a last swallow, then threw it at Emily’s head. In his drunkenness, he threw it wide and it crashed on the floor beside her.

  George jumped from his chair, stunned by Luke’s sudden attack. He knelt quickly to see to Emily. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, trying to overcome the shock of Luke’s outburst and the revelations he had just unwittingly shared.

  George was almost in tears. “Emily!”

  Bud had come around from behind the bar and hovered over them, not offering to help, but staring helplessly.

  George stood up slowly and turned to face Luke. “You sonofabitch! My sister! How could you…”

  Before he could finish, Luke lashed out with a whiskey bottle he had been holding at his side and caught George across the temple. The bottle shattered with a sickening explosion against his skull. Blood squirted from a gash that opened across his forehead.

  Emily watched in horror as George’s knees wobbled, then collapsed and he fell to the floor next to her. Luke kneeled down at her side, the jagged edges of the broken bottle still in his hand.

  “You stupid bitch…,” he snarled and held the sharp glass inches from her face.

  Emily’s emotions were shattered and she lost all sense of composure, screaming for someone to help, “No, please ….Luke!”

  The old bartender threw his body at Luke and knocked him away, “No son, you gotta stop this!” he yelled.

  Emily watched as Luke struggled to his feet. He looked down at her again for a moment with a crazed look on his face, tears running down his cheeks. Then, he ran with his ragged limp out the door.

  Sheriff Potts and two of his deputies met Emily at the emergency room at the hospital. The doctors had checked her out even though she told them she only had a few bruises. One of the bar patrons had driven her and George to the hospital. George had regained consciousness on the way, but he was bleeding badly. They had taken him back for stitches and further examination.

  Emily took the Sheriff and his men through everything that had happened since she had seen Connor at her house and what she and George had learned when they confronted Luke at the bar.

  “I’ll be goddamned!” was all the sheriff could say, at first. “I never would have thought Shirley would lie for that boy.”

  “She may not have known Luke had ever left,” Emily said. “She was either asleep, or passed out drunk,” Emily said.

  “You have any idea where he might have been headed?”

  She shook her head no. “If George is up to talking, he may have some idea.”

  “Alright, we’ll get a bulletin out around the area towns. We’ll find him. I’m leaving one of my deputies with you tonight. I don’t want that crazy ass coming back after you two tonight.”

  “Sheriff, what about Jonathan?” she asked.

  “One step at a time, Miss Compton.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sally sat alone in the office of her gallery early the next morning after the dinner with Alex, Louis and the lovely Mary Alice Gregory. She had endured a long, mostly sleepless night trying to sort through her emotions and the various paths she now faced. She stared at the steam from her coffee, watching it drift off up into the quiet spaces of her office, its aroma the only sensation that seemed to make its way into her brain.

  Her concern was in overreacting to the revelations about Alex Clark’s life, as if she had any right to do so in the first place. She had reacted just as Mary Alice had hoped and she was furious with herself for taking the bait. Then, there was Alex and the realization she was about to jump into a whole new life with this man, abandoning so much of what she knew and felt comfortable in. She now realized how little she actually knew about him. Could she really condemn him for having previous relationships? She kept trying to come up with reasons to rationalize his behavior the night before. She wanted to make it all seem unimportant. Every time she was close to trivializing it all in her mind a lingering doubt found its way back in. She wanted so badly to pick up the phone and call him, to talk it all through, but she couldn’t trust herself to move forward because she really had no idea what path was best.

  An hour later she opened the gallery for business and almost immediately had a shop full of people that kept her busy most of the morning. Her assistant came in at eleven and gave her a chance to go back to her office for a break. She sat at her desk sipping on a bottled water, a dozen thoughts and emotions racing through her brain. She happened to glance over at the paintings stacked in the far corner. Suddenly, she had a very clear sense of something that she had to deal with.

  Walking over, she began sorting through the canvases. She stopped when she reached the last one resting against the wall. The unfinished painting of her daughter, Ellen, stared back at her. She pulled it out and held it in front of her. The face was almost complete. The clothing and background still needed considerable work. She looked into the eyes of her daughter and for the first time was able to smile and find joy in the beauty of her little girl. She hugged the canvas to her chest and let out a soft moan. “Oh Ellen,” she whispered.

  She took the canvas over to an easel in the middle of her studio and placed it carefully down. Standing back, she examined it again. She hadn’t painted in weeks and now, suddenly, it seemed the most important thing in her life.

  She grabbed a palette and brushes from her work bench and beg
an sorting paint tubes looking for the right colors, loading her palette and mixing colors to get just the right hues. Pulling a stool over, she began to work. Her hand flowed easily and with purpose.

  She hadn’t thought about how much time had passed when she heard the bell hanging on her office door ring. Looking down at her watch, she realized she had been painting for over two hours. She turned to see who had come in.

  Gwen stood there in the doorway.

  They both just looked at each other for a moment.

  Gwen broke the awkward silence. “Hello stranger,” she said. “I flew in yesterday afternoon to Traverse City. When I got to the shop, I found out you were out on the ship with Alex so I decided to go spend the night at a motel.”

  Sally got up from the stool and walked over to the doorway. She reached out her arms and they came together in a long embrace, resting their faces on each other’s shoulders.

  “I’ve missed you,” Sally said. “I’m so glad you’ve come back. We really need to talk this through.”

  Gwen noticed the painting of young Ellen Thomason. “I see we’ve made a breakthrough on your painting.”

  Sally turned and looked at her work. “For all of the insanity of this past week, at least I can say I’ve been able to start coming to grips with this part of my life.”

  They sat down together on a couch over against the far wall. Sally told Gwen all about the memorial that Alex had arranged for her family out on Lake Michigan.

  When she was finished, Gwen said, “He must be quite a special person?”

  Sally reached out for Gwen’s hand. “I just don’t know what to do.”

  “We need to be absolutely honest with each other, honey. What do you feel for this man?” Gwen asked.

  Sally looked into the eyes where she had found such comfort and peace. She couldn’t bring herself to cause her any pain. “Gwen, I just don’t know how I feel.”

  “No, I think you know very well, you’re just not being honest with yourself, or with me,” Gwen said calmly, with no hint of anger. “I’ve been able to get a lot of thinking done this past week, also. What it all seems to come back to is you and I have become so accustomed to this life we’ve built here and so dependent on each other and yet, when it comes down to the real truth, neither of us has been able to give the other the kind of life that can make us truly happy.”

  Sally let the words of her friend sink in for a moment. “You don’t think we can be happy? What the hell is that anyway? Life is what it is. We get by and if we have someone to share it with, shouldn’t we feel blessed?”

  “But, we all have choices, Sal,” Gwen said. “We all have to make choices. Sometimes you just can’t let life keep running along on autopilot.”

  “So, you think we should just walk away from all these years together because something new comes along?”

  Gwen got up and walked over to the painting of Sally’s daughter. “This was your life before. You were a great mother. You loved this little girl more than anything.” Gwen tried to wipe away tears building in her eyes. “You were meant to be a mother, to have a family. How could we have both left our lives behind us all these years? What have we been hiding from?”

  “Gwen, don’t say that!” Sally said and now was wiping at her own tears. “You did more than just come along! You saved my life.”

  “I know we saved each other and I wouldn’t give back any of what we’ve had together. But, does everything have to last forever? Can anything last forever?”

  Sally got up from the couch and went over to Gwen and put her arms around her shoulders and pulled her tight against her. “I love you so much,” she said softly.

  “And I love you, honey and I will keep on loving you,” Gwen whispered back. They kept holding each other, letting the tears come, unashamed. “I just have to hope we can find a new way together.”

  Sally felt Gwen pull back suddenly. She turned and saw that Alex Clark was standing in the doorway.

  “I’m sorry, the door was open,” he said apologetically. “Obviously, this is really bad timing.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is,” Sally said.

  “No,” Gwen interrupted. “I think it’s probably perfect timing. You two need to be as honest with each other as we’ve just been, Sal.”

  “No, please don’t leave again,” Sally said.

  “I’ve told the Hansens I’d like to stay for a few days,” Gwen said. “They’re going to put me up. I’ll be around. I need to run up to the house and pick up a few more of my things. I think you two need some time now.” She kissed Sally on the cheek and then walked over to the door. When she came up to Alex, she stopped for a moment. “All I ask is you make damn sure you know what you want.”

  Alex didn’t respond. He just turned and let her pass.

  Alex and Sally stood looking at each other. Sally tried to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. Alex noticed the painting behind her. “She was a beautiful little girl, Sally.”

  Sally walked over to get some tissues from her desk and tried her best to wipe all the moisture from her face.

  “I didn’t know Gwen had come back,” Alex said, walking over to look at the painting more closely. “I’m sorry I walked in like that.”

  “Maybe it was best you did. We really do need to talk. Can we get out of here? Let’s go for a walk.”

  They left the shop in silence, walking down the sidewalk, doing nothing more than trying to avoid the heavy foot traffic. Sally just kept replaying Gwen’s words in her head. I hope we can find a new way together.

  They continued to walk without talking for several blocks and no particular destination in mind. Then, Sally knew exactly where she wanted to go.

  A few minutes later they were standing in front of the big old Victorian house up on the hill, her grandparent’s house. She reached for Alex’s hand and led him up the walk to the front porch. They sat down together on the front steps. Sally felt the familiar comfort she always got when she came to this place. She could feel her family all around her. The images from the old photo albums made it all the more real to her.

  Alex spoke first. “Sally, I don’t know where you and Gwen are, I probably don’t even deserve to ask.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I need to tell you about Sylvia and anything else you want to know about my life, about my past. I want you to know everything.”

  “You really don’t have to do this,” she answered.

  “Well, yes I do. It was so childish of me last night to not just come right out and acknowledge I had met someone since my wife died who had been special to me and I had been together with. It just seemed so awkward with Lou and Mary Alice there, and I didn’t want to hurt you. I was just embarrassed I hadn’t told you about it earlier.”

  “We shouldn’t have to apologize for our past lives,” Sally said, turning to face him. “I’ve certainly had a history… with my marriage and everything that’s happened since.”

  “But you have always been totally honest about it,” he said. “I need to tell you Sylvia Lasser and I did have a relationship for about a year. At first, it was professional and we became very good friends. When my wife died, we just slowly came together and she helped me get through those times.”

  “I’m glad you had someone,” Sally said.

  “It’s been over for more than a year now. I think we both knew from the beginning it wasn’t going to last. We’re still friends. She’s taking care of my house down in Florida and she may even buy it from me. It’s a closed chapter on anything personal. I’m being totally straight with you on this.”

  “I know you are,” Sally said.

  An older couple walked slowly by on the sidewalk holding hands. Two young children on tricycles followed them closely, probably their grandchildren, Sally thought. She watched them pass. She thought about the days when her own family had walked these streets together, when they had played and laughed on this porch and this lawn. Now they were all gone, just images in her mind and in her old sc
rapbooks. Her family had been gone for so many years.

  Alex’s words brought her back to the present.

  “Sally, you need to know a little more about me. What I’ve come to feel for you these past days together is unlike anything I’ve felt in so many years. I know what love feels like. I loved my wife very much and I remember those feelings. Sally, those feelings are back.” He reached over to hold her hand.

  Sally heard the words and let them linger for a while between the two of them. Again, she thought of Gwen’s words, I hope we can find a new way together.

  She closed her eyes and laid her head down on his shoulder. “Alex, you are truly the fortunate one… to know what you feel. I’ve had so many conflicting emotions and feelings and then the shambles of my marriage. I’m not sure anymore what was love, what was loneliness, what was necessity.” She sat up and looked into his eyes. “I do know you are a wonderful man with an incredible daughter who does love you dearly. I should feel so blessed we’ve connected and you care for me and we could have a future together.”

  “Sally…”

  She stood up and reached for his hand. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  They walked down the hill towards Round Lake without speaking, holding hands. She led him down a narrow alley between two buildings that came out to a dock along the lake. They could see the EmmaLee off to their left tied up at the city docks.

  “Come on, over this way,” she said, leading him to the right, down along the docks. She stopped in front of a small boathouse painted brown with white trim and a white door that opened onto the lake. There was a small side door to the boathouse and she reached up along the sill of the door and found a key. She noticed her hand was trembling as she tried to fit the key in the lock. Using both hands, she finally got the key to slide in and turn and she pushed the door into the darkness.

  Alex followed her in. She found the light switch on the wall and three overhead lights flashed on.

  “I’ll be damned!” Alex said, truly stunned.

  The boathouse had dark walls painted brown with a high peaked roof and exposed beams. A few small windows, high on each wall allowed in a little more light. A narrow dock ran down each side and the water from the lake came under the building and all the way to the back wall. Resting in the water was a small wooden runabout tied with ropes hanging loosely to both docks. While the boat was clearly of an old design and vintage, it looked brand new in the lights of the boathouse, its varnish shining brightly, the frame of the windshield and the stainless fittings, polished to a brilliant shine. The leather seats front and back were a rich brown color and looked almost new as well.