Grave Consequences

by Lena Gregory

  Cass counted to ten in her head. “Were you holding the wallet when the phone rang?”

  “I already told you I was. I was waiting for Stanley to get out so I could—” Her mouth dropped open into a big O. She dug through her purse and pulled out the brown leather wallet.

  Stanley smirked.

  Cass sat back and blew out a breath.

  “See.” Bee nudged Loretta with an elbow. “I told you she needed quiet for the voices to get through.”

  “Oh. I. Um.” Loretta turned on Stanley. “See what you did? If you hadn’t left that danged wallet on the nightstand, none of this would have happened.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As soon as Cass ushered Loretta and poor Stanley out the door, she returned to the table, dropped into her own chair, folded her arms on the table, and rested her head. “I need a shower.”

  “Whining, Cass, really?” Bee didn’t bother to look up from his pages. “Not very becoming.”

  “I don’t care. I’m having a bad day.” And it had barely even started.

  “There, there, sweetie.” Bee patted her shoulder. “Maybe this will help.”

  She turned her head to look at him but lacked the energy to pick it up. “What’s that?”

  He lifted the stack of papers he’d been so engrossed in and held them out to Cass. “This journal is fascinating.”

  “As evidenced by all the drama while I was trying to help a customer.”

  “Drama? What drama?”

  Since she couldn’t tell for sure if the innocent routine was real or a ploy, Cass kept the eye roll in her imagination. She wanted to hear what had him so hooked, and if he was annoyed with her, he’d make her find out for herself. She didn’t have the energy for that. “I don’t have time to read it all, so why don’t you give me the highlights?”

  “Okay.” Bee settled more comfortably, crossing his legs and turning toward her to hook one arm over the chair back. He left the pages on the table. “This really is such a tragic story. If it’s portrayed correctly, it would make an intriguing story for a tour.”

  Cass sat up, her curiosity aroused.

  “The journal belonged to Kitty Garrison. Her father, Samuel, was the original Bay Island lighthouse keeper, and Kitty lived in the keeper’s house with him, his wife, Eleanor, and a scattering of sisters whose names I don’t remember, of which she was the oldest.”

  “Does it say how old Kitty was when she wrote it?” Cass got up and got a brush from her bag. Since it seemed like Bee was just getting warmed up, she had a feeling it was going to be a long story, and no way was she greeting another customer in her current state.

  Bee got up and followed her to the back room, carrying the transcription with him. “No, and it’s not dated either, but the writing sounds young, though kind of mature. I’d guess no later than late teens, early twenties at the oldest.”

  Cass raised a brow at him. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”

  He shrugged and flipped through the pages he’d bookmarked with Post-it notes. “She never mentions school, though the entries start during the autumn months and go through the winter. Yet, she doesn’t seem to have much experience with boys, mentions that she hasn’t ever met someone she connected with like she does Thomas.”

  “Thomas is the pirate?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He shifted through the bookmarked pages.

  Cass took one look in the mirror above the bathroom sink, braced herself, and yanked the brush through the tangled, sticky mess. As much as she’d love to wash it, she couldn’t be sure when another customer might come in, and after staying closed so long when Fred had died and then again this morning, she didn’t want to close up again, even if only for a few minutes. She added buying leave-in conditioner to her mental to-do list. “Does it say how they met?”

  “It does. And it is so romantic.” He ran his finger along a couple of lines. “She describes a terrible storm. From her description and the time of year, I’d say possibly a hurricane or, at the least, a nor’easter.”

  Cass shook sand out of her hair. Great, now she was going to have to vacuum. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, but she finally managed to get the brush through and smooth her hair.

  “I’m going to go out of order here, give you a little background that Kitty didn’t write down until later, after Thomas was able to share what had happened, but it’s helpful to know ahead of time.” Bee stared at her a moment, held up a finger, and disappeared into the shop. When he returned, he held out the sash she sometimes wore to cover her hair.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Ehh.”

  She took the sash and tied it around her head. Better. Taking advantage of Bee having left the doorway clear, she hurried to the row of cabinets in the back room and pulled out black leggings and a black long-sleeved tunic-style shirt. At least the purple sash added a pop of color.

  Bee perched on the edge of the couch with the papers on the table in front of him. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. “Thomas’s ship’s captain apparently tried to land out by Montauk Point somewhere, but they were getting battered too badly, the ship taking on water, much of the crew sick, some already dead. They’d missed the Point, but made it into Gardiners Bay, but the ship went down, anyway. When Samuel Garrison went out to check the lighthouse, to be sure it stayed lit during the height of the storm, he found Thomas mostly dead on the jetty. He took him in, and Eleanor and Kitty nursed him back to health.”

  A chill pricked the back of Cass’s neck.

  “Kitty sat by his side, ever the loyal nurse, and when she wasn’t tending to his needs, she read to him, often holding his hand and offering both comfort and strength. She fell in love over the tragic tale of Romeo and Juliet.” Bee paused and pressed a hand to his chest, then shook his head and kept going. “It took months but, eventually, Thomas regained consciousness and began to heal. When he did, he fell fast and hard for his young caretaker.”

  “Aww, what a sweet story.” Cass bent and picked up Beast’s bowls, since Nicole was going to feed him. “Did they end up getting married?”

  “Oh, no. When Samuel Garrison found out what was going on, he blew a gasket, refused to allow the relationship to continue.”

  Cass paused, midway to the sink. “Oh, no, how sad.”

  “Indeed.” He held up a finger. “And it gets worse. Thomas told Kitty about a treasure supposedly buried out by the lighthouse, said he could find it based on what his captain had said, and it would be his, since everyone else who’d been aboard the ship had perished in the storm. So, as soon as he recovered enough of his strength, Thomas began searching. During the days, while Kitty did her chores and tended to all of her younger sisters, Thomas hunted for the treasure that would allow him to provide for his bride once they ran away together.”

  Cass dumped the food into the garbage pail, dumped the water down the drain, and washed the bowls. When she was done, she cleaned out the sink, washed her hands, and grabbed a Diet Pepsi for her and one for Bee. She handed him his soda, then leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, holding her clothes, ready to bolt for the bathroom as soon as he finished the story.

  “Thanks,” Bee said absently as he leafed through a few more pages. “Each night, after everyone went to bed, the two met under the stars, despite the freezing cold temperatures—and you know how cold it gets out by the lighthouse on winter nights.”

  Cass shivered. Just the thought of the wind tearing across the open expanse of beach and jetty was enough to chill her right down to her bones. Add the ice-cold spray of the water hitting the rocks, and it could be pretty brutal.

  “Okay.” Bee flipped ahead to another bookmarked section. “So far, at this point, Thomas has disappeared. He left Kitty one night with a kiss and a promise he’d locate the treasure and dig it up that very night, then return for her. They planned to elope the following night.”

  “Does she say what happened to him?” Cass couldn’t help getting lost in the past. Bee was rig
ht; it would make an interesting ghost tour story.

  “Supposedly, Kitty heard rumors that her father had found out about their plans and either run Thomas off or killed him. But she didn’t believe it. Even though her father was being difficult, she’d held on to the hope that he’d come around once he realized how much they loved each other, and once Thomas found the treasure and could take care of his new bride. But, until this point, Thomas hasn’t returned.”

  “Does he ever?”

  Bee shrugged and set the pages aside. “I don’t know. I haven’t read that far yet.”

  “Bee, if you expect me to believe for one minute that you didn’t skip ahead to the end of that transcript to see if he returned, forget it. I know you too well.”

  “Well, when you put it like that.” He huffed in mock indignation, then grinned. “Of course I did.”

  “No.” Cass feigned shock. “Really?”

  “Knock if off, you, or I won’t finish the story.”

  No way would Cass have time to read that entire transcript, and she found she really wanted to know what had happened to the two young lovers. “Sorry, Bee.”

  He winked. “I had a feeling you would be.”

  “Ha ha.” She took a quick peek out the front window. Though a few people walked along the boardwalk, none seemed to be heading her way. Even so, she needed to get cleaned up before anyone did. She was not waiting on another customer until she changed her clothes. “Finish up. I am working, you know.”

  He waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah, so am I.”

  “Oh, really? How do you figure that?”

  “I’m creating brilliant gowns in my mind.” He tapped his temple and winked. “Ingenious, really.”

  “There’s one problem with that, Bee.”

  “Only one?”

  “Yup. You can’t multitask to save your life.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed. “There is that.”

  “So, keep going.”

  Bee yawned and slid farther back on the couch, settling in more comfortably.

  She needed to hurry him along before he fell asleep. Although if he did fall asleep, she could escape and change her clothes. On the other hand, she wouldn’t know what happened to Thomas and Kitty.

  “Oh, fine. Thomas never returned. But rumors started, about a pirate ghost seen out on the jetty at night, searching for something. Then, one day, Samuel went out to check on the lighthouse and didn’t return in a timely fashion. When her mom sent poor Kitty out to look for him and call him for dinner, Kitty discovered his body, battered and bloody, on the rocks beneath the lighthouse.

  “Despite her alienation from her dad over the way he’d acted with Thomas, she was devastated by his death. And then the rumors kept flying, rumors of the ghost pirate seen out there around the time Samuel died. Kitty started to wonder if Thomas had come back for her, maybe fought with Samuel over her and killed him by accident, then ran off and was too ashamed to return for her.” He opened his soda and took a sip.

  “So, every night, no matter the weather, Kitty took to sitting out on the rocks waiting for Thomas to come home. She spent hours out there every single night, hoping he’d see her and know she awaited his return.”

  “Did he ever come back?”

  “Nope.” He flipped through the last few dozen pages. “Eventually, she stopped posting regular entries in the journal. Then there’s nothing but a few sporadic updates every year or two saying that he hadn’t returned and she’d never stopped waiting, along with a quick recap of how she’d spent her time.”

  “She never moved on and married anyone else?” Cass ached for the poor young woman who’d spent her life waiting for her lover to return. “She had to have realized at some point he wasn’t coming back.”

  “Apparently not. Or, if she did, she just couldn’t move past it. She didn’t date, didn’t marry, never had children, cared for her mother and several of her sisters through their deaths. At the end, though, she seems to have accepted his death.”

  “That’s so sad.” Cass shivered again, placed the cold soda can down on the counter, and hugged the small stack of clothes against her.

  “Here, listen to this.” He took a page from the bottom of the pile and placed it on top, then straightened the stack, took another sip of his drink, cleared his throat, and started to read from the page. “As I look out over the vast expanse of the sea, awaiting my beloved’s return, a chill takes me, despite the sun’s heat and the warmth of the rocks I sit upon. A whisper of a breeze touches my cheek, and I lean into Thomas’s caress. It won’t be long now, before I once again return to my true love’s embrace.’”

  Bee sniffed and clutched the page to his chest. “And that’s it. Her last entry.”

  “Wow.” Cass couldn’t imagine loving someone so much that you’d spend your entire life just sitting and waiting for their return.

  Bee dropped the transcript onto the coffee table and went for a tissue to blow his nose. “You do realize, though, that if the rumors were right, and Samuel did kill Thomas that night, the treasure was never found, right?”

  Cass had to work for a second to switch gears. “You think that’s what Fred was trying to do? Find the treasure?”

  “I think it’s a good possibility.” He leaned back against the counter, crossed one ankle over the other, and folded his arms across his chest. “And guess what else?”

  Cass got a sinking feeling in her gut. “What?”

  “I think, based on what Thomas told Kitty and she shared in her journal, I can find the treasure.”

  “Bee . . .” The last thing Bee needed to be doing was searching for a buried pirate treasure, especially when the last person that may or may not have been searching for the same treasure had just turned up dead under suspicious circumstances. “It’s not safe out there for you to be digging around.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” His eyes lit up with anticipation.

  She knew that look all too well. It came over Beast whenever she held up a piece of bacon.

  The chimes above the front door signaled the end of their conversation. It also meant she didn’t have time to change. She dropped the clothes onto the counter and peeked through the curtains.

  An older woman entered and headed straight for the counter, her stride determined, as was the set of her jaw.

  “I’ll be with you in just a minute, ma’am.”

  The woman glanced at the clock over the door, then nodded once at Cass, her mouth set in a grim line.

  Great. Just what she needed, another difficult customer.

  Bee shoved away from the counter. “Hey, Cass, would you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.” There was nothing she wouldn’t do for Bee. “What do you need?”

  He held the curtain aside for her, then followed her back to the shop’s main room. “Would you go out to the lighthouse with me later and take a look around? I’m not going to do anything stupid, but I’d really love to—”

  “Sure, Bee, I’ll go with you.” And keep her word to whatever voice had shown her the vision that had allowed her to find Stanley’s wallet.

  “Wait?” He stopped short. “You will?”

  “Sure. Maybe Stephanie will take a ride too.” Since she’d be more receptive to the idea of trying to contact whatever spirit had requested Cass’s presence. Who knew? Maybe it would turn out to be Thomas himself, and she could ask him what had happened the night he disappeared. Or it could be Samuel. Though, if he had killed his daughter’s lover, he’d probably not be as forthcoming. “I actually made a promise to meet someone out there tonight, anyway.”

  “Really?” He studied her from the corner of his eye. “Who?”

  She fluttered her lashes and offered her sweetest smile. “Trust me, Bee, you do not want to know.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cass straightened the sash covering her hair, still sticky with sand and salt, and plastered on a smile. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Cass.”

  “I certainly hope so, or
I came all this way for nothing.” The woman plopped an expensive-looking tote on the counter and opened it, then stuffed her hand in and yanked out a small white ball of fur.

  “This—”

  One end of the fur ball opened up, baring a set of tiny razor-sharp teeth, and nipped the woman’s hand. Then it turned its attention to Cass, growling and snarling and baring what looked to be two needle-like fangs amid the teeth.

  Cass lurched back. What had this woman brought into her shop?

  She glanced at Bee, who stood mesmerized beside the back counter and made no move to come any closer. A lot of help he was going to be.

  “Henrietta, no,” the woman commanded.

  The adorable but vicious little demon-dog nipped her wrist.

  She plopped him onto the driftwood countertop, let go, and patted her stylish gray updo. “Can you see what the problem is?”

  “Um.” An image from the movie Gremlins, which she hadn’t seen since she was a kid, popped into her mind.

  Bee snickered from across the room.

  The woman stared at her.

  “What’s this little . . .” A bunch of names rocketed through her head. “Cutie’s name?”

  “It’s Henrietta, dear, as if I didn’t just say that.”

  “Oh. Right.” And with that, she promptly ran out of conversation starters.

  Henrietta paced from one end of the counter to the other and back again, peering over the edge each time she reached one. She stopped long enough to scratch her neck, digging in good beneath her collar, then once more resumed her pacing.

  Cass prayed the little beast wouldn’t find her way down.

  Bee dropped onto one of the chairs at the table and propped his feet up on another, his thoughts apparently running along the same line as her own. Though he held the transcript pages in front of him, his gaze never left the animal.

  Cass searched the woman’s gaze, hoping for some tell as to why she was standing in Cass’s shop with what Cass assumed was some kind of miniature dog breed. When none was forthcoming, she studied the dog.