We lapsed into amiable silence for a bit, Galen finally stirring. “Tell me about your tour.”
“I’m not sure how much there is to tell. I needed a break from watching you guys work on the beach, so I headed into town. Thankfully, even though the lighthouse feels isolated, it took me less than five minutes to hit the main drag.”
“The island is good that way.”
“Definitely.” I bobbed my head in confirmation. “Then I decided I wanted iced tea, but there were about thirty bars and restaurants to choose from. Do you know that you have four tiki bars? Four! Who needs that many tiki bars?”
“We actually have seven tiki bars,” Galen corrected, grinning at my discomfort. “But you ended up in Lilac’s bar. In a way, that’s a good thing.”
“Why is that?”
“She’s gregarious and easy to get along with.”
“She’s definitely that,” I agreed. “She explained how Mondays and Tuesdays are slow on the island, and then insisted on giving me a walking tour because she believes Booker fell down on the job.”
“Booker has many fine qualities,” Galen said. “One of them is not serving as a tour guide.”
“Yes, I’m a big fan of his bus and the fact that he dresses like a reject from Magnum, P.I.”
Galen’s chuckle was so loud it caused me to jolt. “It’s been forever since I’ve heard a good Magnum, P.I. reference.”
“Netflix has opened my eyes to a whole new world of television.”
“Good to know.” Galen must’ve realized I was staring at his water bottle, because he handed it back to me with zero comment. “Where did Lilac take you?”
“Up and down the main drag,” I replied, gulping some of the water before continuing. “She told me where to get the best produce, which deli will rip me off when ordering lunchmeat and which liquor store has the best rum.”
“All important things to know … especially about the rum. We take our rum very seriously on Moonstone Bay.”
“Are you pirates?”
“Only on Devil’s Night.”
I didn’t know what to make of that statement – perhaps it was a joke I didn’t get – so I let it slide. “Tell me about Bonnie. Do you think her death is tied to May Potter’s?”
“I think it’s a definite possibility, but I won’t know until I get the coroner’s report,” Galen replied, his eyes lit with interest as they locked with mine. “Why do you call her by her full name instead of referring to her as your grandmother?”
I shrugged, noncommittal. “She was never my grandmother.”
“But she was.”
“I never knew her,” I argued. “She never called me on my birthday or sent a Christmas card. She apparently knew where I was but never visited … or called … or even sent a ‘wish you were here’ postcard.”
“I hate to keep harping on this, but are you certain?”
The way he phrased the question caused my stomach to perform an unbalanced somersault. “What are you asking?”
“I’m merely asking if you’re certain that May never tried to contact you,” Galen replied, his voice calm. “The May I knew would’ve moved heaven and earth to get to know her only granddaughter.”
“And yet I didn’t know her.”
“I realize that, but … are you sure something else didn’t happen?” Galen pressed. “Maybe your father didn’t want May to know you and he kept it from happening.”
My father was many things – a renowned criminal attorney, a poor tipper, a snazzy dresser and a total jerkwad when it came to dating women younger than me – but he wasn’t a liar. “You don’t know my father. You don’t know what he’s like. He loves me.”
Galen held up his hands, signifying surrender. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“My father knew I wanted to know more about my mother,” I snapped. “He wouldn’t have kept that from me.”
“I’m sorry.” Galen’s expression was difficult to read, but I felt he was sincere. I also felt that he was backing off only because he didn’t want to upset me. It wasn’t that he believed my father was a good guy as much as he didn’t want to deal with an emotional female. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head and looked to the surf. “I know my father. Nothing you can say will make me think he’s a bad man.”
“I’m not trying to make you think he’s a bad man.” Galen’s tone was earnest. “I just … I knew May well. She was a cool lady. She was one of those crazy old ladies you want to hang around with because she always said whatever came to her mind. Do you know what I mean?”
“Not about May, but in general.” I nodded. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s okay. You’re getting used to a new place. I keep trying to put myself in your shoes, but I can’t quite seem to come to terms with what you must be feeling. Three months ago you didn’t even know you had a grandmother. Then, overnight, you found out you did and that she was dead.
“The good part is that you have a new home on a tropical island,” he continued. “The bad is that your last tie to your mother is gone. For some reason I assumed you knew your mother while growing up. This has to have been difficult for you.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s just weird. I still shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. You’re trying to help. I didn’t sleep well last night. That’s not an excuse, but … I don’t do well when I’m running on fumes.”
“I don’t either.” Galen flashed a charming smile. “I like my eight hours as much as the next person.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
“Don’t mention it.” Galen waved off my concerns. “You said you didn’t sleep well. Is there a reason? Did you have nightmares or something?”
“Nightmares?” That was an odd question. “No, I didn’t have nightmares. I think it was the fact that I was sleeping in a strange place. The bed belonged to someone else, which is always weird, and I kept thinking I heard things.”
Galen knit his eyebrows as he leaned closer. “Someone was in the lighthouse?”
“No, it’s just … I’m not used to living on the water,” I explained. “I kept hearing noises that were strange to me because I’m from the suburbs. I don’t believe the noises were strange to the house, just to me.”
“Oh.” Galen visibly relaxed, releasing his grip on the arms of the chair. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
“I’m sure I will, too. The sound of the ocean is soothing. I love walking at night, so I’m looking forward to spending time on the beach after sunset. That probably won’t happen tonight – or maybe even this week, given the dead body – but I’m looking forward to it.”
Galen’s smile was back. “A nighttime walk is divine.”
“Just so long as I don’t go into the cemetery, right?” The question was pointed for a reason. Lilac was firm on the warning, and even though I tried bringing it up during the remainder of our tour she wouldn’t go into specifics. I hoped Galen would.
“No, you should definitely avoid the cemetery after dark.” Galen turned his attention to the driveway, refusing to expand on the statement.
“But why?”
“Cemeteries are a place for the dead, not the living.”
“I thought cemeteries were a place for the living to visit the dead.”
“Not on Moonstone Bay.” Galen inclined his chin toward the driveway before I could dig deeper. “You have a visitor.”
I knew exactly three people on the island so that seemed unlikely. I turned to find an older gentleman in a peach-colored suit picking his way up the driveway.
“That’s Ned Baxter,” Galen supplied, getting to his feet. “He’s a local attorney.”
“Why would he be coming here?” I couldn’t stop the rising stem of panic. “Did you call him because you’re going to arrest me for murder?”
Galen’s expression shifted from curious to amused as he sl
id me a sidelong glance. “I already told you that you’re not a suspect.”
“Then why do I need a lawyer?”
“Ned is a family law attorney,” Galen replied, laughter lacing his words. “He handles child custody arrangements and probate issues. I believe he was May’s attorney.”
“Oh.” I sucked in a calming breath. “Now that you mention it, I think I did see his name on the documents my father showed me.”
Galen didn’t bother hiding his surprise. “So May’s will went straight to your father?”
I nodded, distracted by the peach suit. “Does he know that color is … weird?”
“It’s an island, honey,” Galen replied. “That color is only weird when you hit the mainland.”
“Good to know.” I pasted a bright smile on my face as Ned hit the edge of the patio. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Ned’s voice was warm and welcoming as his eyes bounced between Galen and me. “Am I interrupting?”
“It’s not a date or anything,” I answered hurriedly. Galen’s snicker caused me to scald him with a dark look. “What?”
“I think he was referring to something else,” Galen answered, jerking his thumb toward the beach activity over his shoulder. “Ms. Hunter discovered a body on the beach this morning. Bonnie Wakefield, in fact.”
“Oh.” Ned’s face drained of color. “That’s horrible. How did she die?”
“We’re not sure yet,” Galen replied.
I opened my mouth to mention the poison, but the expression on Galen’s face told me that he’d rather keep the information private for the time being, so I changed course. “Your name was on the will I received a few months ago.”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here.” Ned recovered quickly, shaking his head to dislodge the body conversation so he could focus on the real reason for his visit. “I heard through the coconut vine that you arrived yesterday – Moonstone Bay is a small community – and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”
“I’ve been better.” I forced a wide-eyed smile. “Even when visiting Detroit I didn’t often stumble across bodies. It’s been a somewhat jarring move.”
“I can see that.” Ned made a clucking sound with his tongue. “I’m sorry. You must be rethinking your decision to move to Moonstone Bay.”
“I haven’t given much thought to that either way,” I countered. “So far I’ve simply been getting the lay of the land and going through some of the stuff inside.”
“Well, if you decide you don’t want to stay I can help you with matters of property transfer and the like,” Ned offered.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Galen did it for me.
“Why wouldn’t she want to stay?” Galen asked. “She’s barely given the island a chance.”
“I understand that, but this is all new to her,” Ned explained. “In fact, I had no idea May even had a granddaughter until she asked me to establish the will a few months before her death. I was … surprised, to say the least.”
“I don’t know why you would be surprised,” Galen argued. “May mentioned Hadley numerous times over the years. Still, it’s good you handled the will. Hadley wouldn’t have any idea what she was entitled to if you hadn’t.”
“Yes, well, that’s my job.” Ned wrinkled his nose. “The lighthouse is an important historical property. I want to make sure its future is secure. I was actually relieved when I found out that May had a viable heir. Otherwise, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to the property.”
“Thankfully we don’t have to worry about that,” Galen said.
“Yes, thankfully.”
I could sense a bit of unease between the two men, so I attempted to distract them. “Do you know why May didn’t contact me before her death, Mr. Baxter?” I asked, drawing his contemplative eyes to me. “I had no idea she existed until the will showed up, but clearly she knew about me.”
“I don’t have an answer for you, my dear.” Baxter’s expression was rueful. “As I said, I didn’t know you even existed until a good six months ago. I was shocked, but didn’t feel it was my place to question her. She was a client. We were definitely on friendly terms, but I wouldn’t call her a lifelong friend or anything. I’m sorry.”
“I’d call her a lifelong friend because I knew her my entire life,” Galen offered. “I knew about Hadley years ago.”
“You did?” I couldn’t help being surprised. “What did she say about me?”
“Just that she had a granddaughter,” Galen replied, his expression softening. “She didn’t share much more than that. Of course, I was a kid for a lot of that time. She mostly just gave me lemonade when I was playing on the beach.”
“Oh.” I was understandably disappointed. “I thought maybe … .” I caught myself before I slipped into melancholy. “It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. We can’t change the past.”
“Not unless it’s Memorial Day,” Galen agreed, causing me to tilt my head. “As for the rest, I can’t comment. I can get out of your hair, though. I know you have things to do.”
Galen flashed a charming smile before sidestepping Ned and heading toward the driveway. “Take care of yourself, Hadley. I’ll be in touch when I know more about Bonnie’s death.”
I watched him go with a mixture of dread and relief. “Okay. Um, thanks.” I forced my attention back to Ned. “Did you need anything else?”
Ned shook his head. “No. I only came to see if you were settling in okay. I’ll get out of your way, too. If you need anything, or have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.”
“I will. Thank you.”
And just like that I was on my own in a strange place. Again. Seriously, could Moonstone Bay get any weirder?
Five
I woke to noises.
I bolted upright in the bed – a bed that didn’t feel like it would ever be mine – and tilted my head to the side as I tried to identify the unfamiliar sounds.
The bedroom window was open and I could hear the waves caressing the sandy shoreline. That wasn’t it, though. I’d already grown accustomed to the ocean sounds. I liked them. They were soothing and muted, not something that would cause me to jerk out of a pleasant dream that involved a shirtless Galen rubbing suntan lotion on my … wait, that was hardly the thing to focus on given the circumstances.
I rubbed my eyes and debated whether or not I should search the lighthouse. I didn’t know the layout well enough to attempt to do it in the dark, but if I flicked on a light and someone was inside it would tip them off that I was awake. That might trigger a fight or flight response – the fight being the worst possible choice in that scenario – and I wasn’t sure how I would react.
Of course, this was an island, not Detroit. The noise I’d heard could’ve been some sort of beach animal on the patio for all I knew.
I sucked in a steadying breath to calm myself and tossed off the sheets, quietly getting to my feet and padding toward the doorway. I listened hard, hoping for the sound of muted whispers or animal claws on the hardwood floors, because that would mean I wasn’t imagining things. Sure, that would mean I was in a house with intruders or man-eating monsters, but at least I wouldn’t be crazy. Dead is better than crazy, right?
I blew out a sigh, my tousled bangs fluttering, and forced myself to step into the hallway. I heard a light clinking sound, as if dishes were being emptied from the dishwasher, and squared my shoulders before determinedly walking in the direction of the kitchen.
The metal staircase was narrow enough that I didn’t risk sliding to one side or tripping as I descended. The lighthouse was mostly dark, but the moon over the water was bright enough that it offered occasional bursts of illumination through the multitude of lighthouse windows.
I’d just about convinced myself that I imagined everything when I heard a noise in the kitchen a second time. It was completely dark and I couldn’t see any movement in the murkiness, but this time I was sure I heard something. I had a few options, although none of them particularly called
to me, and I was unsure how to proceed.
I could run out the front door and scream for help. I could run out the front door and hide behind a bush before calling 911 and requesting help. I could go back upstairs and hide underneath the covers until morning. Or, and this was the dumbest idea of all, I could walk into the kitchen and confront whoever broke in.
I did the latter. No joke. Here’s the thing about me: I’m braver than I am smart. When I was a kid, all anyone needed to do was dare me and I would do the most asinine things. You know all those memes that say “This is why women live longer than men?” I was in those – except I was the woman making the stupid decisions. I can’t seem to help myself.
Despite my rampant idiocy coming out to play, I didn’t walk into the kitchen without a backup plan. I expected to turn on the light and scare off an intruder. But if the intruder didn’t run I didn’t want to be caught without a weapon. With that in mind, I grabbed one of the heavy metal bookends from the cabinet near the hallway wall, gripping it tightly before moving to the kitchen.
I ran my hand over the wall to the left, feeling for the light switch, my heart pounding so loudly I thought the noise would overwhelm me. It was only after thirty seconds of searching that I remembered the light switch was on the other side of the doorframe.
I heaved a sigh, shifted the bookend from one hand to the other, and flicked the switch. For better or worse, I’d made my decision. Standing in the dark and trying to talk myself out of it wasn’t going to work. It never worked.
I blinked rapidly when the room flooded with light, taking a moment to get my bearings. At first I felt sheepish, as if I’d imagined everything. There was no scary man standing on the other side of the island counter waiting to pounce. There was no dark and scary female searching through the drawers for the family silver.
There was absolutely nothing. I’d imagined it all. The kitchen was empty and safe and … hmm. I know I didn’t leave the dishwasher open.
“You’re up late, dear!”
I screeched at the female voice, jerking out with the hand that gripped the bookend and swiping it in the direction of the unexpected visitor. The woman – a tiny old lady with long silver hair and amused green eyes – didn’t flinch as the bookend went through her. No, you read that right. The bookend went through her. It didn’t bounce off her. It simply passed through her.
Witchy Dreams Page 80
