Sea Struck (Lupine Bay Book 3)

by Maribel Fox

  “It’s really quite the collection,” I mutter, perusing the shelves, admiring an old spyglass, a formation of crystals, a silvered hand mirror. There’s no end to the treasures here, and each item has its own story to tell. I want to know them all, but there’s no time for that. I’m here for one story in particular. The story of those swirling lines Miles told me about.

  “I’ll let Alistair know his assistance is needed,” Ku says with another overly-friendly smile. “Keep enjoying the display.”

  I nod once, but before I can nod a second time, my phone rings. Ku’s already disappearing through the curtain to the back, so I take a step towards the front door and pull the phone out.

  Dad.

  Cursing under my breath, I seriously consider ignoring it. It’s what I should do. But it’s my dad, and he’s trying to call me. I can’t just ignore that. Not after all this time. All these years being sure we’d never have a relationship again. If he’s reaching out, the least I can do is hear him out.

  “Hello?” I answer quietly, taking another step toward the door. There’s something about being on the phone in a quiet place like this that makes me feel like I’m the most obnoxious person on the planet, even if no one else is around to hear. The way my voice echoes in the silent shop is obnoxious enough on its own.

  “Hey Callie. It’s me, Dad.”

  “I have caller ID, Dad,” I sigh, one hand on the door now. If this is going to be a conversation of any length, I’m going to have to step outside. I’m hoping it’s just a quick chat. Maybe I forgot something at his place? Something simple, please.

  “Of course you do. I was thinking we should get together and talk sometime. There’s some things I want to tell you about.”

  My stomach turns, and there’s a part of me that wants to pressure him into saying whatever it is over the phone, but I know that won’t do. If he’d wanted to do that, he’d have done it, and if there’s one place I take after my dad more than anywhere else, it’s the absolute certainty that neither of us is ever going to do a thing we don’t want to. Stubbornness runs deep in this family, so if Dad’s hellbent on having some chitchat in person, there’s no way he’s going to spill anything over the phone.

  The swish of a curtain tells me that Ku’s back, and a glance over my shoulder tells me he’s not alone.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll come by when I get a chance,” I mutter, hanging up before it can go on too long. I shove my phone in my pocket quickly and turn back to Ku and his friend with a plastered-on smile I doubt either of them believes.

  “Welcome to Bathory… Antiquities,” the man with Ku says slowly, his voice lightly accented with an indeterminate European cadence. He’s much slimmer and paler than the mountain of a man I first met, though they’re both very attractive in very different ways. The other man — Alistair I have to assume — is a little older looking, his features refined in a way that makes him look almost unreal. Real people don’t have chiseled cheekbones and jaw lines like this guy.

  “Hi there. My name’s Callie, Ava told me you might be able to help me find what I’m looking for?”

  The guy’s posture is stiff, and he looks uncomfortable. Like he’d rather I wasn’t here at all.

  No wonder he keeps Ku out front. He’s way friendlier and more approachable.

  Again, I’m driven to wonder how the heck places like this stay solvent for so long.

  “Depends on what you’re looking for,” he says, stepping behind the counter to regard me with a barrier between us.

  Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting prepared.

  “Well,” I start, feeling a little crazy now that I’m looking for the words to say it out loud. “History about the town, I guess is a good place to start.”

  Alistair’s eyes narrow, his jaw tight. “What kind of history?”

  “Oh, you know, early settlers, any civilizations that were here before maybe? I’m a researcher and my team and I have found some intriguing patterns in the bay, a strange rock formation I was hoping someone may have written about in the past.”

  “I see,” he says, nodding slowly. “Could you describe the formation?”

  “We’re still studying that… It seems like a random collection of linked boulders at the moment.”

  “Linked?”

  My stomach flutters.

  Careful, I remind myself.

  “It seems the boulders are disrupting the currents or something. My diver found unusual swirling patterns that don’t match up with organic patterns either of us have seen before.”

  I’m hoping it’s detailed yet vague enough to not make me sound crazy. I don’t know what I think is out there, but I know it’s weirder the more I learn about it, and anyone with any sense is going to think I’m weird for looking into it so much.

  I’m also hoping using terms like ‘my team’ and ‘my diver’ makes my whole operation sound a lot more official than it really is.

  “Interesting,” Alistair says, not really looking at me. In fact, he seems to be sending surreptitious glances in Ku’s direction, and the whole situation is starting to make me feel uncomfortable. There’s something going on here that I don’t understand, and I hate that.

  “Ever heard of anything like it?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

  “I don’t have a wealth of knowledge on the town’s history, but I do have a few books which may interest you,” Alistair says, turning around to a shelf behind him. He glances, then moves to another shelf before heading to the back room without a word.

  “There will be something useful in the books,” Ku says confidently.

  I’m not so sure, but I am eager to get out of here. As blown away as I was when I walked in, being here has gotten more uncomfortable by the minute. I don’t know how to explain it other than this pervasive feeling of unwelcome, and it doesn’t make any sense.

  I’ve never been a paranoid person, so I don’t know how to deal with this feeling.

  “Ku?” Alistair calls from the back room.

  The hulking giant holds up a finger to excuse himself before darting off, leaving me alone again.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, convincing myself they’re not planning on kidnapping me or anything crazy like that. Ava sent me here. It’d be bad business to send your hotel guests to your murderous friend.

  “Here you go, he says take all the time you need with them,” Ku says, returning to offer me a stack of old musty tomes. There’s probably half a dozen in total, more than enough to keep me busy for a while.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, holding out my hand as he slides the books into a paper bag. I’m not sure how else to end this interaction at the store where they didn’t even try to sell me anything.

  That leads to even more questions about how they manage to stay afloat. Giving things away isn’t exactly how you turn a profit.

  “You should stop by again sometime,” Ku says brightly. “You’d love the library,” he adds, gesturing to the back room.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I say, already sure I don’t want to come back. I can’t explain it, but something about this place feels off to me. Which is a shame, because it seems like the kind of place I should love.

  “Thanks for your help,” I say, determined to stay polite despite the weirdness. Ku waves back, and then I’m leaving the shop, re-entering the dreary world, arms a little heavier.

  I drop the books off in my room at the B&B since it’s on the way to the lighthouse. No point in delaying the inevitable. Dad wants to talk and now’s probably the best time to make that happen while Miles is busy with other things and I’m not wanting to be cooped up all day.

  Of course, once I’m on the rocks staring up at the lighthouse, all I want to do is turn around and pretend Dad never called in the first place.

  It’s bad enough I had to show up here once and deal with the awkwardness, but that was important for the cause. This? This is pure masochism.

  Holding my breath, I ring the bell, hugging myself agai
nst the cold blast of sea air whipping my hair around. It’s really nasty out on the bay today, so it’s probably the best day for Miles to need to babysit… if that’s even what’s happening. We couldn’t have done any proper research in this weather.

  From inside the lighthouse, I can hear Dad clanking down the central spiral staircase, footfalls echoing on metal rungs like a bowling ball headed downstairs. When he opens up, he looks surprised to see me.

  Who was he expecting? He didn’t look over the railing to check who was down here, so I figured he assumed it was me after the call.

  “Callie! Wasn’t expecting you to show so soon,” he says, voice deep and gruff as ever.

  I shrug. “Had a free day anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

  Dad’s face gets more serious, and he shakes his head, looking past me to the rocky shore before he steps back, beckoning me in. I don’t appreciate the theatrics, but I’m certainly in no position to call the shots. I follow him upstairs, out of breath by the time we get to the living room and trying to cover it by breathing quietly and slowly through my mouth. No doubt he’d say something about me turning soft if he knew how winded I am.

  I sit on the couch so he’ll do the same, hoping that’ll start whatever conversation he brought me here for.

  Dad sighs heavily, and finally sinks into the armchair opposite the couch.

  “I wanna talk to you about your mother,” he says carefully.

  Instantly I’m on alert, every nerve-ending in my body prepared to respond to whatever necessary. I’m poised and strained to hear the quietest whisper in case it’s something I’ve longed to hear my whole life.

  I don’t dare respond. Too much enthusiasm could spook him.

  For as long as I can remember, I’ve been asking Dad about Mom, wanting to know more about her, what she was like… why she left. And he’s never given me answers. Never told me a damn thing, just shut down the conversation whenever it came up.

  “Your mom was real special, Cal, but there was always something that kept her from being fully with us. She told me it was okay, and I wanted to believe her. We were so happy, I never dreamed it would all end so suddenly. But she struggled more than she let on. She never could quiet that part of her, and one day I guess it was too much for her. She left… both of us.”

  There’s no doubting the pain in my dad’s voice, and it makes me feel ridiculously guilty. I shouldn’t though. Even though I’m the reason he’s ripping open these old wounds, I’m not the reason he kept it all to himself all these years. I’m not the reason it’s only just coming out now.

  “For the longest time I blamed myself… I guess I still do some. For her leaving, for you not having the mom you needed. But it wasn’t just that. I figured it was just a matter of time before you left me too. You’re all I’ve got left, and I know I went too far. I did the last thing I ever wanted to and pushed you away.”

  I don’t know what to say. None of it is information I didn’t mostly figure out on my own over the years, but hearing it from him, hearing the emotion in his voice makes it more real. The anger I’ve been holding onto toward him starts to melt in the face of this broken old man. He’s always been a formidable unmovable force in my eyes, but right now he looks fragile. Like a stiff gust of wind could blow him into dust.

  “Well, I’m back now,” I say, offering the olive branch when I see the opening. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to have a good relationship after everything that’s happened between us, but we can have a relationship.

  “What’s this project that’s brought you back?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Don’t know if it’s anything. Weird rocks in the bay. If my department had their way, I wouldn’t be out here at all, but I’m on my own dime.”

  He frowns. “Why?”

  Part of me doesn’t want to admit the truth to him. I don’t want to admit that they all think I’m a crazy crackpot chasing wild imaginary geese, but the other part of me remembers this is Dad. He’s always stuck up for me when it mattered, took my side when I really needed him to, as long as it wasn’t us butting heads.

  “They think I’m nuts,” I finally say with a big sigh. “Well… One person in particular.”

  Once I start, it all comes pouring out. The department head that never cares about anything other than her own pet projects, my ex-boyfriend who laughed in my face, then followed me to town. All of it.

  It’s pretty gratifying when Dad gets pissed at Trenton for my sake.

  “You want me to talk to him for you? Make sure he knows you’re not interested?”

  I snort, not mentioning I’m pretty sure Miles has already done that.

  I’ve actually been really careful not to mention Miles at all. He and Dad never got along very well, and I don’t imagine it’s a good time to test those boundaries since we’re only just reforming our bond.

  “I think he got the picture when he got himself kicked out of the bar.”

  “That’s my girl,” Dad says, a little twinkle in his eye. “Don’t you take grief from anyone, you hear me?”

  “Never have,” I answer with a little smile. It’s weird to be talking to him like this, having a conversation with no one being angry at the other, sharing bits about our lives from the years apart.

  Before I know it, the afternoon’s fading into dusk, and Dad is suddenly alarmed.

  “Gotta man the light,” he says, glancing out at the horizon. “Getting dark out there. You should head off before it’s too late.”

  He doesn’t have to finish the thought. I know Dad, and I know in his head a dark beach is pretty much an open death trap. Rocks you can’t see, tides and rip currents invisible in the dark, empty tide pools ready to break your legs — it’s a never-ending nightmare for a guy with my dad’s brain. Instead of arguing with him, I nod, giving him the satisfaction of being able to look out for me in this tiny way.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve got some work to do anyway.”

  He stands at the same time I do, and we share the world’s most awkward hug, but it’s nice.

  Really nice.

  Nothing about this day has been expected, but as I’m heading downstairs, my stomach grumbles violently, making a very vocal point about how long it’s been since I’ve eaten.

  I could head to The Shamrock and try to convince Micah to whip me up something in the kitchen, and I know it would be amazing, but after running into Trenton there, I’m not super keen to go back right away. He could still be waiting around to confront me, and even though he’d find himself on his ass again real fast, it’s more than I feel like dealing with right now.

  The Duck is a better bet, I think. The kitchen at The Shamrock is kind of a ‘by request or appointment only’ thing, since Micah’s not a full-time chef, but the Drowning Duck is a full-service diner, so there’s no awkwardness about heading in with an audibly growling stomach.

  Besides, after a day like today, I could use a little spot of sunshine like Iseul. He never fails to make my day a bit brighter.

  If only he could help the weather out a little. It’s downright cold as I’m leaving the lighthouse, wind whipping little rain droplets fast enough they hit my face like tiny needles. The sun never did manage to come out today and the bay seems almost angry about it.

  Dad didn’t get in my head or anything, but I don’t linger on the beach any longer than it takes for me to get up the path heading back to the B&B. The hood on my jacket protects me from most of the rain once I’m on level ground and not climbing into it.

  The path into town is already muddier than it was this morning, and if the rain doesn’t let up soon, it’s going to be a stream instead of a usable walkway. I somehow manage to avoid slipping and falling on my ass, and I attribute my newfound sure footing to all the time spent on Miles’ boat. Mud’s nothing compared to the slick build-up on deck once it’s good and wet. I cringe just thinking about how many times I’ve fallen or nearly wrenched my arm out of socket holding onto the railing for dear life.<
br />
  I sure hope we find something for all the bruises this expedition has caused.

  Finally, I’ve made it to the Duck, and I’m eager for Iseul’s customary greeting when I push open the door.

  Except it’s not Iseul behind the griddle.

  My heart sinks which is completely unfair to Judy. She’s not the most pleasant of people, but she’s never been outright rude to me. She’s just not Is.

  “Callie, come join us!” comes a call from the back of the diner. I perk up at the familiar voice, spotting Ku first. He’s at the table with two others — Is, and the guy who came in to talk to him a little while back with the swarthy good looks. I was too focused on my disappointment with Judy to look around the place, but suddenly the day brightens again.

  I don’t know about the other guys but Is has quickly become one of my favorite people in the world — and it’s not just because of the fancycakes — so I can tolerate dealing with others if it means I get to hang out with him.

  “Are you sure?” I ask tableside. It’s Ku who called me over, and Is nods, waving toward the seat next to Ku.

  “Of course! The more the merrier,” he says before turning to the man at his side. “Have you met? This is Callie, Callie, this is Ocho,” Is says, introducing us with a big grin like he expects we’ll be instant best friends.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say with a nod, finding it hard to look at him too closely. I’m not sure what it is, because he’s incredibly attractive, but there’s this darkness about him that just warns ‘stay away.’ Of course, that only makes me more curious. What’s his story, and what’s up with him and Iseul? They’re looking awfully cozy on the other side of the table.

  “Have you found anything useful yet?” Ku asks, seeming a bit stiffer than I remember. There’s a weird dynamic here between the three of them. I can’t exactly put my finger on it.

  “I haven’t even had a chance to look at them yet. Had some personal things to tend to—”

  “With Miles?” Is asks, brows raised high.

  What in the world is he implying? If I had things to do with Miles, it would be work, not personal.