by Tessa Kelly
“That must’ve cost him a fortune,” I murmured. No doubt guessing my thoughts, Kathy leaned forward in the back seat and squeezed my arm.
“Don’t I know it!” Geraldine sighed, then gave a quiet laugh. “George, my late husband, was an accountant. We never lacked for anything, but we lived modestly. This new lifestyle...don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. But it takes getting used to. Half the time, I feel like a silver-haired Cinderella whose carriage is long overdue for turning into a pumpkin.”
We all laughed, picturing Geraldine clambering out of a giant pumpkin in a fancy ball gown.
“But don’t think Henry and I forgot to whom we owe our present happiness,” Geraldine said with a quick glance at me, as though she too had read my thoughts. “The fact that you could make it up here for the wedding is the best gift you could’ve given us.”
I smiled, touched. It was just like Geraldine to try and make others feel special even when it should’ve been all about her.
“I’m just happy it all worked out,” I told her. “No one deserves this more than you and Henry.”
We were quiet for a while after that. The car sped down the winding roads, past picturesque towns and lush forests interspersed with grassy meadows. Truly, it was a beautiful island. I voiced my thoughts about it to everyone's general agreement.
“I know I’ve been here less than a day,” Geraldine said, “but I’m already sorry to have to leave. By the way, I should tell you what’s on the agenda this weekend. Tonight, as soon as everyone gets here, we’ll be having a semi-formal dinner after which Henry’s old college friend has offered to take us all out on the water to watch the sunset on his sailboat.”
“Old college friend?” Kathy said, looking puzzled. “Does that mean Henry’s memories are coming back?”
Geraldine gave her a sad smile in the rearview mirror. “I’m afraid not. Or, not yet. We’ve been able to piece together certain facts over the past few months. From neighbors, old letters and emails, Henry’s college records and such. Of course, John and Jennifer filled in quite a lot, but none of it’s sparked anything. Henry says it’s like reading a book about someone else’s life.”
She was quiet for a few moments, seeming lost in thoughts, then took up the old thread as if there hadn’t been an interruption. “So, Saturday morning. There’ll be breakfast, of course. Everyone will have a chance to get a little better acquainted. Then we’ll have lunch outdoors, combined with some fun activities for everybody. And, of course, Saturday afternoon is the wedding followed by the reception and dinner. And, finally, fireworks.”
“Wow! Sounds like a jam-packed weekend,” Tray said, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
“Oh, yes! We want everyone to have a good time and enjoy themselves. Of course, there will be a Sunday brunch, too. That’s when Henry and I will make our grand exit for our honeymoon.” She laughed. “There’s an airfield not far from the ferry where I picked you up. Henry has chartered us a small plane from them. He’s going to fly us straight to JFK.”
“He’s going to fly the plane himself?” I asked cautiously. “Is that...safe?”
Geraldine looked unconcerned. “Perfectly. We’ve flown together before. Amazing, how the mind works: he’s got no memory of any of his family members, but he gets into that cockpit and knows exactly what he needs to do. Doesn’t even need to think about it.”
We left the last town behind us and were driving along a gravel road through a pine forest whose trees towered over us, straight as needles. Through the occasional gaps in the trees, I caught glimpses of the ocean, blue in the sunlight. Rolling the window down all the way, I inhaled the spicy pine air mixed with the brine. Heaven.
“So where are you going on your honeymoon?” Kathy asked.
“London!” Geraldine said. “I’ve never been, and Henry spent fifteen years there before coming back to the States. We’re hoping some of his memories might return if we stumble on his old haunts. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”
We all agreed it was. Meanwhile, the car rounded another bend and the forest ended abruptly. A wide green lawn spread out before us. Beyond it rose a white three-story building with a slanting slate-gray roof.
“Here we are,” Geraldine said. “The Sand Red Hotel.”
Chapter 3
Geraldine drove down a wide gravel lane, around the lawn and toward the parking lot hidden from view by some tall hedges.
We gathered our bags and followed her up a pebbly footpath around the hotel’s left wing to its ocean-facing main entrance under a white portico. On this side, the lawn sloped down gently toward a long strip of sand beach. The pine forest on one side and some rather tall cliffs on the other created a natural border for its grounds, giving the hotel a feeling of privacy and seclusion.
Directly below us, where the water looked deepest, a narrow dock stretched out from the shore like a carpet runner laid out over the water. Moored to the dock, a sailboat rocked gently on the waves, brilliant white with the words Hija del Mar stenciled in gold on its side.
Tray eyed the boat with a mixture of awe and envy. “Nice!”
“Hija del Mar,” Kathy read. “Daughter of the Sea, if I remember my high school Spanish. It looks pretty large, right?” Kathy’s knowledge of sailboats extended as far as occasionally strolling past a marina.
“It’s a luxury sailboat,” Tray explained. “That baby probably cost more than my house.”
“Why would someone buy a thing like that?” Kathy whispered, looking shocked.
“That’s Eric’s boat,” Geraldine said, overhearing them. “Eric is Henry’s friend I told you about. He recently sold his home to buy that sailboat. He and his wife—”
Before she could finish, the glass doors under the portico opened and Henry hurried out, followed by John Edwards, his nephew.
It had been a while since I last saw them and I was once again struck by their resemblance. Both men were tall and lean, though Henry was the shorter and grayer of the two, and his features weren’t as striking. Both carried themselves very straight and gave the impression of youthfulness tempered by the ever-present composure. Tray, who had never met them before, looked impressed.
While introductions were being made, I noticed that the sailboat below was no longer empty. A gray-haired man and a woman in a red cocktail dress came up from below-deck and were climbing out onto the dock. They headed toward us, the man walking slightly ahead of the woman whose high stilettos made it difficult to walk on the soft ground. He was halfway up the slope before he noticed that she lagged behind. He paused and waited, but made no attempt to help her.
When they were almost to the portico, another woman came striding out from behind the hotel. She acknowledged them with an energetic nod that made me think of an army general saluting the troops. I couldn’t be sure, but Geraldine seemed to tense at her approach. Marlowe, on the other hand, greeted each new arrival with equal amounts of panting and tail wagging.
John introduced the couple from the boat. “These are my uncle’s friend, Eric Harding and his wife Majandra. They arrived in the sailboat last night. The rest of the guests are somewhere on the premises. You’ll meet them all at dinner.”
Eric shook hands with us. He wore a simple white shirt and dark slacks, and his white hair, slightly receding on top, was neatly combed back. “Henry and I grew up together in Boston and went to the same university,” he explained. He had a calm manner and a quiet way of smiling when he talked.
“Our career paths went off in different directions,” he went on. “Henry chose psychiatry, I went into medicine. My wife used to be a television actress in Los Angeles,” he added almost as an afterthought.
Majandra beamed. She looked like she might be in her early fifties. Attractive, with smooth olive skin, dark eyes and black hair carefully arranged with enough hairspray to withstand even the strongest island breeze. Her curve-hugging dress and a plunging neckline left everyone in no doubt that she still had a killer figure and wasn’t
afraid to show it.
“I quit the business when I met Eric here,” she purred, threading her arm through the crook of her husband’s elbow. “It was just like love at first sight. Like, bam! We saw each other and fell head over heels. Isn’t that right, honey bunny? We’ve been inseparable ever since.”
Eric smiled. He didn’t affirm or deny her words, but I thought he looked uncomfortable at her touch, almost as if she was invading his personal space.
The second woman who hadn’t yet been introduced stretched out her hand. “I’m Jennifer Moor, John’s sister.”
She was almost as tall as her brother but thin in a way that made me think of an eating disorder and had a narrow face and a high forehead partly hidden under long bangs. The rest of her dark hair was tied at the nape in a no-nonsense ponytail. The long-sleeved jacket and the dark skirt she wore looked tailor-made but didn’t do much to help her appearance, accentuating instead of hiding her unhealthy thinness.
She shook hands with everyone, smiling the barest of smiles. When her eyes reached me, she paused and the left side of her mouth gave a twitch that appeared involuntary.
“You must be Sandie James. Uncle Henry certainly talks a lot about you.” She didn’t sound like that was a good thing.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” I said, feeling suddenly cautious.
Her eyes lingered on me with shrewd appraisal. “Would love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to find my daughter. She’s off on the grounds somewhere with her boyfriend when she should be helping out.”
I watched as she dashed off and disappeared around the other side of the hotel.
What was that all about?
John shrugged with a small smile. “Please, excuse my sister. She hates the idea of Susan and Vincent being alone together.”
“Yes, but you shouldn’t be too hard on her,” Henry said. “As I understand it, she lives in fear of history repeating itself.”
“Which is the same thing as living in the past,” John pointed out. “It’s not healthy, for her or Susan. Jennifer is alienating her.”
Majandra’s face lit up. “Did you say, history?” When John hesitated to answer, she slapped him playfully on the arm. “Go on, handsome, spill the beans! We need a little gossip to enliven this place.”
A moment of embarrassed silence followed, then John said, “My sister was a free spirit growing up. She shocked us all when she took a year off from college to travel in South America and came back married to an Argentinean. Unfortunately, he ended up abandoning her and fleeing back to his country when it turned out he already had a family there. Left her with two small children. Jennifer hasn’t been the same since. Well, Susan’s boyfriend is half Argentinean on his mother’s side, and Jennifer is frantic.”
“Ooh!” Majandra widened her eyes. “She thinks he’ll run off, just like her hubby did?”
“Jennifer is scared, yes,” John said. “But that sort of thinking won’t lead to anything good. We all wish she would simply let the young people be.”
“Time will tell,” Eric said. “If the boy is good for Susan, Jennifer will be forced to acknowledge it sooner or later.” He put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Why don’t we head to the bar for a before-dinner drink?”
Henry nodded. “Sounds like a fine idea. Lead on!”
They started in but Majandra lingered behind, glancing toward the boat. “I just remembered I forgot my compact back there. I’ll run back and get it.”
Eric paused in the doorway, squinting in the sunlight. “Shall we wait for you?”
“Oh, no, no! Me, in these heels? You’ll die of thirst!” She giggled. “Just go on in without me. I’ll be back before dinner.”
As she shimmied off, I thought a dark shadow passed over Eric’s face. But it may have just been the afternoon light playing tricks on me. He turned and quickly went in, letting the door swing behind him with a thump.
“You’re all welcome to join them,” Geraldine told us. “I recommend you try the honeysuckle wine. East Sea Island is famous for it.”
Kathy and Tray said they’d rather go to their rooms and freshen up before dinner.
“Go on to the reception desk, then,” Geraldine said. “They’ll tell you which rooms you’ll be staying in. I’d show you myself, but Sandie and I have to sort out Marlowe’s accommodations first.”
She turned to me when Kathy and Tray went inside. “As you know, the hotel doesn’t allow pets, but I arranged to have Marlowe stay with the hotel’s groundskeeper in one of the staff bungalows. Number six. It’s pretty easy to find. Or I can take him there if you’d rather go upstairs with your sister. Then you can visit him later.”
“No, please, don’t trouble yourself,” I urged her. “Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll take Marlowe myself.”
Moments later, Marlowe and I set off across the grounds, the way taking us past the dock where Majandra was still walking down slowly in her heels. She wobbled onto the dock and paused to open her purse. Taking out a compact mirror, she began fixing her makeup and patting down her already immovable hair.
As she hadn’t seen me standing there, I stopped and watched her.
She’d told her husband she needed to go back for her compact, yet there it was in her hand. She knew she hadn't forgotten it. That in itself was odd. Not to mention, she was stopping to primp herself before going onto an empty boat. Something here didn’t add up.
My phone vibrated and I took my eyes off Majandra to read the text. It was from Kathy, asking if I was coming up soon. She and Tray were going to wait for me so we could all go down to dinner together.
Kathy’s divorce not yet final, she didn’t want things with Tray to develop too fast. While neither of us had said it out loud, we both knew that, for the time being, I was acting as Kathy’s buffer.
I sent a reply, assuring her I would be back quickly, then looked toward the dock again. It was empty now. Majandra must’ve gone down below.
Oh, well. It was probably none of my business anyway.
Putting the phone back in my pocket, I hurried to the row of bungalows nestled close to the trees at some distance from the hotel, against the dark backdrop of the cliffs. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t put the strange scene on the dock out of my mind. It lingered, like a trace of cheap perfume on the air.
Why did Majandra need the silly excuse to go back to the boat? If it was really empty as I’d assumed, why did Eric look so mad?
Chapter 4
The bungalows were one-story wooden houses with slate gray roofs, white windowpanes, and narrow wooden porches. Identical to the last detail, but they looked cozy. I counted eight of them.
The first five were guest bungalows. They appeared empty, except for one which had a pair of white sneakers lying strewn on the porch. Judging by their size, and the carelessness with which they’d been left outside, the occupant of the bungalow had to be male and probably young.
The staff bungalows stood at a slight distance behind the guest ones. I found number six and walked up the porch steps. Beside me, Marlowe wagged his tail, keeping his eyes on the door as I knocked. I realized with a twinge of sudden apprehension I’d never left him overnight in the care of a complete stranger before.
“The groundskeeper must like dogs,” I said, trying to comfort both of us. “If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed to look after you. But if he’s rude, or mean...or if he stinks, or drinks, you just let me know and I’ll think of something else for you. Okay, buddy?”
Marlowe stuck out his tongue and panted excitedly.
I nodded. “You’re right, you’ll get along great. He’s probably a big lovable teddy bear of a guy with mussy hair and sunburned cheeks. Probably wears stained overalls and won’t care if you jump up on the couch.”
The door opened and a slim young woman appeared, wearing spotless khakis and a pink polo shirt. She had blue eyes, a glowing tan, and light blond hair in a neat ponytail. I blinked at her. She laughed, showing perfect white teeth, and stretch
ed out her hand.
“Hi, I’m Ashley! You must be Sandie.”
We shook hands.
“You’re...the hotel’s groundskeeper?” I asked, still feeling blindsided.
Ashley nodded, grinning. “Don’t worry, most people are surprised when they first meet me. They don’t expect a woman to work in this job, or to be good at it.”
“Well...” I smiled, relieved she wasn’t offended by my gawking.
“My dad worked in hotel maintenance his whole life, and I grew up helping him,” Ashley explained. “I’m more qualified to do this job than most guys I know.”
“I see. Sorry I was so surprised. And you do look more than capable. Plus, Marlowe obviously likes you, so I know he’ll be in good hands.”
Marlowe had sidled up to Ashley and was sniffing at her shoes, his tail working back and forth with vigor.
“Don’t worry about Marlowe,” Ashley said, taking the leash from me. “I promise to take good care of him. I love dogs, wish the hotel would let me keep one. But it’s against the rules. They only made an exception for you because Mr. Edwards booked the place exclusively for the weekend and the owner wanted to keep him happy.”
“Doesn’t your family live on the island?” I asked, surprised she needed the hotel’s permission to have a dog.
Ashley shook her head, a little sad. “My family used to live in Boston, that’s where I grew up. But it’s just me now.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked so young. Too young to have lost all her family.
“Dad passed away two years ago,” she said. “Left me our house. I tried to stay around at first, worked at the hotel. But the bills kept piling up and I couldn’t keep up with all the payments. So I sold the house and took the job at Sand Reed. I’ve been here for almost a year now.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely?” I glanced around at the dense trees surrounding the property. It was hard to imagine living in that much isolation.
“It does in winter when the hotel is closed. Some days, it’s just me around here and nothing to do but stay inside and listen to the storm. But I get a good wage and don’t have to pay rent. It’s a good way to save money so I can start my own business. And it’s not like I plan to stay forever. With any luck, I’ll be back in Boston before you know it,” she added, smiling but looking wistful.