Sanctuary (Murrells Inlet Miracles Book 1)

by Larsen, Laurie

  Let’s just get the truth out there: Henry Gibson was investigated by the FBI and arrested, and taken away in handcuffs by the police.

  Wow. What a reality. Now, family helps family. What are we doing about it?

  Tony Monroe and I have reached out to a half dozen criminal defense attorneys who Henry indicated he wanted to work with. Why a criminal defense attorney? Because Henry needs to be represented by the brightest minds and most experienced lawyers in the field. As much as we’d like someone in our firm to represent him, we recognize that we are not experienced in criminal defense, and we’re smart enough to get the proper people involved to handle his case.

  At this point we know close to nothing about the FBI investigation and what evidence led them to obtain an arrest warrant. We have requested that the FBI relinquish all those files, and they have agreed to do so … in their own time. Meanwhile, Tony has received some verbal information that the misconduct they think they have discovered was committed by Henry on the Samson Merger case. As you all know, Henry is innocent until proven guilty, and that’s of course why we want to get an experienced attorney reviewing the files and forming a defense.

  However, since the FBI mentioned the Samson Merger, and because I was the lead on that case, Tony and I have decided it best that he scour the FBI files for any evidence of awareness of Henry’s alleged wrongdoing on my part. Of course, I have told Tony and I tell you all now, as much as I am confident that Henry will be found innocent of all transgression, I am even more confident that I had no knowledge whatsoever of illegal activity taking place on my case. I spent three years of my career providing hands-on leadership of the Samson Merger. The thought that I would’ve handled it inappropriately or put up with someone else doing something inappropriate is unfathomable.

  So, I will be taking a sabbatical from work until those reviews are done and I am cleared of any suspicion. I am confident that will happen since I know, of course, that I did nothing wrong. Tony has asked that after this email to you, I do not utilize firm email, or do any work on behalf of the firm. Although I know you will all be thinking of me and wishing me well, please refrain from calling me. It’s an uncomfortable situation for all of us, but please abide by our wishes. It’s for the good of the firm.

  My hope is that Tony’s review will be handled expeditiously and I will be back among you soon. Meanwhile, please do not lose faith in our family. Come to work at Gibson, Monroe and Ramsey every day with a positive attitude, knowing that the work you do is extremely important for our clients and our firm. This is a temporary road bump but we will get past it, and we will emerge stronger and better than ever.

  My thoughts are with you, despite the fact I won’t be with you in person. Persevere and hang in there!

  Sincerely,

  Nora Ramsey

  Managing Partner of Gibson, Monroe and Ramsey, Attorneys at Law

  She went to bed, satisfied with her effort. The alarm rang at 3 AM. Nora rose immediately, knowing that the only chance she’d have to get into work, produce her email, send it to all associates and leave without running into anyone, was to arrive at the crack of dawn. Many lawyers have a tendency of starting their workday at 6 AM. She threw on clothes, brushed her hair and headed down to her car. She wouldn’t bother Benny at this hour of the day.

  With light city traffic, she arrived in half an hour. The firm offices were dark, but she found enough lighting to light her way. She fired up her laptop, typed her message in, proofread it and sent it off.

  She resisted the strong urge to catch up on new email. But it was not her job, not right now. Let Tony handle it. As she was sure he would.

  She shut down, walked to the door and turned, soaking in the sight of the office where she’d spent many hours, done so much good work. She’d be back, she was confident of that. And hopefully her name wouldn’t be dragged through the mud by her colleagues; her memo would help ensure that.

  But she needed to leave. Tears threatened, and with no one else around to witness them, she let them fall. Then she headed out, returning the quarters to darkness.

  She returned home and tried to sleep. After an hour of lying with eyes closed, trying to convince her mind to settle, she gave up. She rose, ate breakfast, flipped on the TV, got bored, turned it off. She put on clothes for a walk on the treadmill, intending to walk for an hour, and only made it fifteen minutes before she was bored with that too.

  She glanced at the clock. Ugh. It was only 10:30 AM.

  She picked up her phone and called her sister, Patty. They spoke for an hour and she filled Patty in on the entire situation. Patty gave her all the indignation at the situation that she needed to hear. At least she had one person on her side. Of course, that one person was connected by blood, but still.

  As they were wrapping up their conversation, Patty said, “You know what you could do with all this free time, don’t you?”

  Nora shook her head. “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”

  “Well, duh. Go down to Murrells Inlet. Take a look at your new place from Aunt Edie. Make a list of repairs that are needed and start taking care of things.”

  An overwhelming sense of exhaustion set in. “Oh, I don’t know. That idea makes me tired just thinking of it.”

  “Seems to me like it’s right up your alley. Make a list, start working, cross items off when you’re done. You know what a kick you get out of crossing things off your list.”

  Nora considered. “That’s true.” Maybe it wouldn’t be bad. And she did have the time right now. At least she didn’t have work looming over her head the whole time she’d be there. “I’ll think about it.”

  “In fact, let me know if you need any help. I have a week off coming up. I could go with you.”

  That sounded immensely better than going by herself. “I’ll let you know.”

  She hung up and spent an hour feeling lost. She was out of her groove. What was something that she enjoyed doing, but never had time when she was working? Hmmm. She tapped her bottom lip with her index finger and looked around her living room. Her gaze landed on her bookshelf. Reading. Yes!

  She stepped over to the bookshelf and scanned the shelves. She used to buy beautiful, thick hardcover books even though she never read them. Maybe she could read them now. She had shelved them by genre. A bunch of non-fiction self-help and legal advice books. She passed those by. She wanted to get lost in a story and read, read, read for hours. She had a small romance shelf which didn’t appeal to her, and she moved on to murder mysteries. That might do the trick. Then she landed on John Grisham. Perfect. She had at least five of his bestselling legal dramas. She pulled them out, and as she turned, she caught sight of her Bible.

  It reminded her: when she was lost, there was help available. She just needed to reach out to him. Prayer. What was wrong with her? She was in the worst time of her life and it hadn’t dawned on her to pray about it.

  She walked to the couch and piled the Grishams on the coffee table. Then she kneeled, resting her folded arms on the table at the elbow. Closing her eyes, she thought about what she wanted to pray. She was a little rusty at this, since she couldn’t remember the last time she’d said an intentional prayer, other than “Oh Lord, help me.” She sank into a meditative state, and then spoke from the heart, “Dear Lord, please watch over Henry in prison. Please guide Tony to the right attorney to defend him. Watch over this whole situation and guide us all with your loving care. Also, I pray for myself. Please help me to come to terms with what’s happened. Help me to maintain a positive attitude and not to turn bitter. Please help me figure out something meaningful to do with my free time. And please watch over the Aunt Edie inheritance situation too. Guide me in the direction that is right for me. Oh and God, help me to lean on you more heavily in life. Help me to remember to call on you for help with my earthly problems. Give me a sense of peace in this new life. Amen.”

  She stayed in position, eyes closed, for another beat or two. She concentrated on the peace and calm spreadi
ng through her mind and body. Whether as a result of God sending it to her, or simply feeling better knowing that she had reached out to him for help, she definitely felt better, more settled, than before she prayed.

  She got to her feet, fixed herself a glass of iced tea and returned to the living room. Easing into the couch, she perused her book options, chose one and settled in for a long read.

  The day whittled away. With a little bit of persistence, Nora overcame the guilt of wasting time reading. Normally she’d only allow herself to read for a half hour, then get on with something productive. After the first few internal alarm clocks went off, she continued to read. By early evening she finished the first book. She really found herself absorbed in it. Reading a fictional, yet well-researched book about the law world – her world – felt comfortable. She was back at work, even though she wasn’t.

  She woke the next morning and after breakfast, she opened the second fat novel. And on the third morning, the third book.

  On the fourth day, her phone rang. It was Mark Becker from the law firm in Myrtle Beach. She answered.

  “Yes, good morning, Ms. Ramsey.”

  “You can call me Nora, please.”

  “Thank you, Nora. I hadn’t heard from you regarding your aunt’s inheritance. Just wanted to follow up.”

  “Oh, yes.” She opened her mouth to tell him the whole story, as an explanation to why she’d been distracted lately. But it wasn’t necessary. She surprised herself by responding, “I’ll be there in a few days. I’d like to see the property in person before I make my final decision.”

  “Very good. Please take down my office address and phone number, and call me when you get here. I can take you to the property.”

  “I used to know where it is. I imagine I can find it again.”

  “Oh, of course. Then I can meet you there.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  She thanked him and hung up. Then she dialed Patty. After a few minutes, they had planned the dates for the trip and their travel arrangements.

  Maybe God was moving in her life. Now, she just needed to figure out how to follow him.

  The direct flight from Philadelphia to Myrtle Beach deposited her in sunny South Carolina about an hour after Patty’s flight from central Illinois. By the time they found each other in baggage claim, Patty had already picked up the keys to their rental car and her suitcase. They hugged in greeting, and strolled over to wait for Nora’s bag.

  “This is exciting,” said Patty with a big grin.

  “It’s definitely something. Exciting. Unexpected. Depressing.”

  “Why depressing?”

  Nora favored her sister with a pointed expression. “My whole life is depressing right now. My favorite aunt died and I didn’t even know because we hadn’t bothered to stay in touch. My senior partner at work was arrested and my other partner has put me on leave until he finishes his investigation of me because secretly he thinks and hopes he’ll find that I’m guilty, too.”

  Patty’s expression changed. “Well, if you look at it that way, then yes. Your life is depressing.”

  Nora laughed. “How else could you look at it?”

  Patty pursed her lips and looked thoughtful for a minute. “Your aunt loved you so much that despite the fact that you were no longer close, she left you a meaningful and valuable gift that could provide just the getaway you need, right now and always. You’ve worked so hard at your job that they’re giving you a long leave of unexpected time off, at full salary. Through that lens, your life looks pretty darn sweet at the moment.”

  Nora laughed and shook her head.

  “It’s all perspective, sis,” Patty concluded.

  They retrieved Nora’s bag and found their car. The twelve mile drive south on Route 17 to Murrells Inlet was familiar to both of them. To find the actual property, however, the route was foggy in their minds. Nora had accessed directions on her phone and let it guide them to the property. Off the main drag, the road quickly became rustic and overgrown.

  “Oh my gosh, Nora, there’s the gate!” Patty exclaimed.

  Breath caught in Nora’s throat and she breathed, “The gate. There it is.”

  The gate that held many childhood memories during the times she and Patty had visited Aunt Edie together. A split rail fence surrounded the entire property, except for the one end which faced the water. This one simple wooden gate was the only entry and exit. A dirt road led to it, and when they used to ride in Aunt Edie’s Jeep, either Nora or Patty would have the job of jumping out, opening the gate, watching the Jeep drive through and then closing it again before running back and hopping back in. Like sisters do, they would argue over who was allowed to do the important job. Like it was something to argue about. But it was a very special honor at Aunt Edie’s place to be the gate handler.

  “Guess I get the honors today,” said Nora since Patty was driving. Patty chuckled and waved her hand.

  On the other side of the closed gate, they continued driving down the dirt road. The house and barn were located about two miles into the property. Two miles that were obscenely overgrown with long wheat grass. “What could be done with this ground?” she wondered aloud.

  Patty smiled. “Atta girl. Already thinking about improvements.”

  Nora shook her head. “I haven’t officially accepted the inheritance yet. But look at this. Just empty land with overgrown grass. How could it be made useful?”

  Patty shrugged. “It’s prime oceanfront location. Maybe sell it to a developer to be made into a strip mall.”

  “Shut your mouth.” Nora looked at Patty in shock, but the look on her sister’s face told her she was kidding. She swatted Patty’s shoulder. “Seriously. Someone needs to do something about this.”

  Patty kept driving. Eventually the house came into view. It was old and big and majestic, Nora guessed from the Victorian age of houses. She didn’t know much about it, other than it was ancient and rundown and required a lot of work. But pulling up to it now, she saw that the old girl was extremely charming, with personality in her façade, despite her obvious neglect.

  Patty parked in front of the house and they both exited, their heads tilted up to gaze at the majestic old mansion. A huge gray house, it had a stairway of about a dozen steps to the front door. A wraparound porch was covered by a roof on three sides of the house, providing access to breezes on a hot day. The house seemed to be built in sections, and they didn’t all blend smoothly together. The divergence of shapes was peculiar. The roof of the porch above the front door was a stark triangle, however on the left side of the house was a circular wing, as if the outside walls were built circular to accommodate a round ballroom on the second floor. The round side of the house jutted against a section of the second and third floor that sported straight lines, square walls, and to the right, another outdoor porch started on the second floor with another roof covering it. It was odd. It was an eyesore. And yet, it was beautiful.

  It was large, that was for sure. And it was historic. It had to be a hundred years old. And before she decided if she’d accept it or not, she needed to tour every inch of the interior and see just what she was getting herself into.

  “Aunt Edie sure loved this place,” Patty said in awe, still studying the monstrous house with her head thrown back. Yes, there was that too.

  “I wonder how much of Aunt Edie’s grandiose renovation plan she ever actually accomplished?”

  Patty turned at the sound of another car approaching. “Well, if that’s who I think it is, we’re going to have the chance to find out for ourselves.”

  Nora turned and sure enough, it was Mark Becker, Aunt Edie’s attorney. As she watched him park his car, she slapped at a mosquito that had attacked her neck, and realized just how much warmer it was here than in Philadelphia where she had left this morning. She estimated at least twenty five degrees warmer.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Mark announced and Nora detected a southern accent that she hadn’t noticed the times she’d
spoken to him over the phone. He stopped in front of them and turned his head looking from one to the other.

  “Hi, Mr. Becker. I’m Nora, and this is my sister, Patty.”

  “Nice to meet you both after speaking to you on the phone. Welcome to South Carolina. Well,” he said and paused, taking a long, reverent gaze at the house, “here it is. What a treasure.”

  “It sure is,” Patty replied, “and it holds a lot of family memories.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I am sorry for the loss of your aunt. I only got to meet her a couple times, but I know she was a wonderful woman who lived a life of serving others.”

  Nora glanced over at him, afraid to ask him for more explanation of his comment, personally embarrassed that she didn’t know enough about Aunt Edie’s recent life to know exactly how she served others. Fortunately, he went on without prompting, “She had many causes that she spent her time and energy on here in the community. She served in the local soup kitchen for the homeless and underprivileged several times a week. She played the organ in her church every Sunday until she was no longer able to do it. And she travelled all over the area finding free or low-cost books that she delivered to the Murrells Inlet Library, and donated them all. She was a huge supporter of literacy in our southern beach town.”

  “How wonderful,” Patty said, happily. But his words caused a blanket of sadness over Nora. Why hadn’t she known this? Why hadn’t she kept in touch with a woman who could’ve been such a powerful role model in her adult years? Someone who could’ve instilled in her a sense of balance instead of allowing her to accept her career’s control over her entire world?

  And now she was gone. It was too late.

  “Why don’t we walk around the exterior, then we’ll go in?”

  Nora nodded and followed him around, listening to his running commentary. “The house was built in 1910. It is classified as Victorian architecture, and its specific category, the Queen Anne style. The United States developed a sort of love affair with conventionally British home styles, and this house is a perfect example of that.”