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Tidepool

Page 6

by Nicole Willson


  Charlie nodded at her. He was clearly suppressing another smile, which made Sorrow even more annoyed.

  “Hello again, Mrs. Oliver.” Charlie raised his hat to the stern-looking woman, and she gave him a grave nod. “And Quentin, isn’t it? Hope you’ve been well, sir.” Quentin made no indication that he’d even registered Charlie’s presence. He still stared at Sorrow with a deeply worried expression.

  “Mr. Sherman,” Mrs. Oliver said in her deep, deliberate voice. “I had just asked Miss Hamilton to lunch. I would be happy to include you as well.”

  “That’s too kind of you, Mrs. Oliver, but I’ve got some business to attend to here. And I’d like to catch up with Sal— Miss Hamilton,” he said.

  “What sort of business?” Mrs. Oliver’s dark eyes narrowed.

  “I told her father that I’d come here to escort her safely home. I figured that while I was here, I’d have a word with the mayor. You remember our discussions last time, yes?”

  Mrs. Oliver nodded. “I do.”

  “I’d like to continue those conversations if you’re going to be in your usual place at Cooper’s Inn tonight,” Charlie said.

  Mrs. Oliver studied him for a moment.

  “Very well,” she said. “I will see you then.” She turned. “Come along, Quentin.”

  Quentin, who looked as if he might just quiver into pieces, finally took his eyes off Sorrow and followed his sister up Water Street.

  Sorrow wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. How had the plans she’d had for the day come so thoroughly undone, and so quickly?

  “Hope you didn’t mind me nixing lunch with Mrs. Oliver, Sal—Sorrow,” Charlie said, leaning close to her. “Tell you the truth, something about her and that brother of hers gives me the chills.”

  “Actually, I do mind. All I wanted to do today was go home.”

  He cocked his head. “Didn’t you just get here yesterday? What’s the rush?”

  “I hate it here. And the people aren’t at all helpful. I think they know what happened to Hal, but they won’t tell me. They’re dreadful.” Sorrow thought about the torso that had washed up on the beach, and the marshal’s completely uninterested reaction.

  Charlie frowned slightly. “I see. What do you say we go to the inn and have a bite to eat and talk about it?”

  “Oh, no. I can’t go back there.”

  “What? Whyever not?”

  “I… I wasn’t terribly polite when I left. The Coopers made it clear that they didn’t want me staying here any longer, and I let them know that the feeling was quite mutual.”

  Charlie frowned. “Well, that’s odd. They were polite enough when I was here. And what sort of an inn tries to chase people out of town?”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Sorrow’s voice rose and people on the street turned to stare, but she didn’t care. “This whole place is full of people who make no sense. Mrs. Oliver’s brother was running all over the beach with jars of ocean water, collecting them like they were treasure. And he seems to be the most normal person I’ve met here.”

  Charlie laughed heartily at that.

  “But anyhow, I’m not staying in this place another moment. I’m heading to the stables to see if those people remember seeing Henry when he left, and then I am taking the buggy back to Ocean City and the train station. I’ve already wasted far too much time here.”

  “Oh no. You aren’t going anywhere,” Charlie said, and anger flared in Sorrow’s chest again.

  “Charlie, I told you. Nobody here has been helpful about Henry. There’s nothing for me here.”

  “Sorrow Hamilton, it’s far more than my life is worth to have to tell your father that you slipped out of Tidepool without me,” Charlie said, grinning at her and taking her arm. “Can you stand one more day at the beach with me, do you think? We can travel back to Baltimore together tomorrow.”

  Sorrow held back her annoyance. Not that she could ever stay annoyed with Charlie for long.

  “Where do you think I’m going to stay? The Coopers were quite clear that they were happy to have me gone.”

  “Look. Let’s try this.” He was walking her down Water Street back towards Cooper’s. Townspeople turned to watch them, and their gazes unsettled Sorrow. “We’ll go inside, and you’ll offer your apologies. Tell them that the stress about your brother was getting to you. Perfectly understandable. And if you could have a room for one more night, we’ll be on our way bright and early tomorrow.”

  “I don’t see why I should apologize when I did nothing wrong other than meet rudeness with rudeness.”

  “I just said that you should apologize,” Charlie answered in a breezy tone. “I didn’t say you had to mean it.” And he led her, implacably, towards the inn.

  Sorrow sighed. She disliked Tidepool and just about everyone in it with the possible exception of Mrs. Oliver’s bizarre brother.

  And yet, having someone from home who was an actual ally might keep her from feeling as if it were just her against a town of yokels who were indifferent to her brother’s fate.

  And it was Charlie Sherman. Charlie and Henry had been friends for over a decade, and he had featured in many of Sorrow’s adolescent fantasies about boys and romance. She’d often daydreamed about his warm hazel eyes, his wavy blond hair, his wide and winning smile.

  She believed she was beyond silly schoolgirl crushes now that she’d reached adulthood, but he still had the sunny disposition and infectious grin she had always adored.

  Perhaps one more night with him here would be agreeable.

  Perhaps.

  Chapter Seven

  A BAD BUSINESS

  As Sorrow had expected, the Coopers did not look even a little bit pleased to see her walk back into their inn. Naomi’s eyes were as narrow as Balt’s pinched lips when Sorrow and Charlie approached them.

  “Let me handle this,” Charlie muttered as he steered her to the front desk.

  “Hello again, Mr. Cooper. Name’s Charles Sherman, if you don’t recall. Miss Hamilton’s father has asked me to accompany her back to Baltimore, but I’ve got some business to attend to here today. Could you see your way to allowing us to stay one more night? I know there have been some hard words here, but the Hamiltons have been awfully upset about their Henry missing. Surely you can understand that.”

  Naomi and Balt stared at Charlie and then at Sorrow with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. When they didn’t respond right away, Sorrow hoped that they’d refuse, so she’d be free to go home.

  “Just one more night,” Charlie said again. “Do you think you can spare a couple of rooms?”

  Finally, Balt nodded slowly.

  “I suppose we can manage that.” He looked as unhappy about the prospect as Sorrow herself was.

  “Upstairs. Third room on the left. As before,” Naomi muttered, pushing a key over to Sorrow as Balt handed Charlie a key to his own room.

  “Thanks much, Mrs. Cooper,” Charlie said.

  Sorrow felt like a bird that had been placed back in a cage after breaking free. She trudged up the stairs to the threadbare, spartan room and placed her suitcase by the bed again with a sigh. Was it possible that the room had actually shrunk by a few feet since she had left it? It looked smaller and more inhospitable than ever. The shriek of the squealing kitchen door carried up to her again, and she clenched her fists.

  A rap on the doorframe interrupted her gloomy thoughts. Charlie stood there, smiling widely. He looked entirely too bright and happy for a place like this.

  “Don’t know what on earth you said to those people before you left, but I didn’t think they were going to bend.” He chuckled. “But no matter now. I’m famished. Would you care for a bite to eat downstairs?”

  “Not especially.” Sorrow had been anticipating a decent meal in Ocean City. The thought of another day of Cooper’s dismal cooking depressed her.

  “Come on now, old girl. It’s not as bad as all that here, is it?”

  Was he going to be yet another person behav
ing as if Henry’s disappearance was unimportant?

  “For god’s sake, Charlie. My brother is missing. One of your oldest friends.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Her words finally knocked that wide grin off his face, if nothing else. “But I’m convinced this entire thing is some kind of miscommunication. Really now, what could have possibly happened to him?”

  Sorrow folded her arms over her chest. “I think the people here know. They just won’t tell me.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “That’s quite an accusation to make. And these are simple folks, Sorrow. They tend to keep to themselves. What do you think they would have done to him?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I came here to find out. If you don’t believe me, ask them yourself and you’ll see. And don’t you feel it? This place is just … wrong. You said Mrs. Oliver gives you the chills? This entire place gives me the chills.”

  “Well, it’s no Baltimore to be sure, but that’s why it caught our attention.” Charlie shrugged. “A location like this? It could be so much more.”

  “You should give up the whole idea of developing this town. The people certainly don’t want it, and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to stay here.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being harsh?” Charlie held his hands out.

  “Charlie, this place stinks. Literally. And there’s nothing to do here.”

  “That’s where development comes in. You have to start somewhere.”

  “But there’s just a sense of something dangerous here. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it.”

  Charlie shook his head.

  “Sorrow, I promise you that your father will find out where Hal’s gotten off to. I know you’ve a curious mind, but I think this is beyond your capabilities. And this is hard on your father. He’s upset enough about Hal without having to worry about you as well.”

  “Well, I was on my way back home until you intervened.”

  Charlie smiled. “Fair enough. We’ll blame the last part of your journey on me. I can take Winslow’s wrath.”

  Sorrow looked away from him and out at the sliver of ocean visible from the window. She remembered the thing that had washed up from the water just that morning and shuddered.

  “You really think Hal’s out there somewhere?”

  “Knowing your dear brother as I do, I’m positive he’s going to stride into your house in a couple of days and be quite shocked when he learns about the uproar he’s caused. Perhaps he sent a message to you that never arrived. Mistakes do happen. Besides, he’s smart. I trust that if he somehow got in trouble, he’d have the brains to get himself out of it.”

  Sorrow desperately wanted to believe that. Perhaps she was reading too much into the reactions of the townspeople here, assuming their lack of information about Henry had sinister implications when they simply didn’t know anything, and thus had nothing to tell her.

  Perhaps.

  Charlie smiled. “I don’t share your dismal opinion of this place, but I will allow that I was relieved to see a somewhat friendly face when I arrived back in Tidepool today. The locals are rather wary around us big-city sorts. Now, how about that lunch? I’m famished.”

  Sorrow finally smiled back at him.

  “Alright.”

  They went downstairs to the tavern, and Sorrow noticed that Charlie steered well clear of Ada Oliver’s fancy armchair; he headed for a window seat.

  The lunch choices at Cooper’s were as uninspiring as the dinner selections had been. Sorrow resigned herself to the cheese on toast.

  After Balt had taken their lunch order with a notable lack of enthusiasm, Charlie settled back in his chair. “What have you been doing with yourself since college, Sorrow?”

  Sorrow smirked. “Avoiding my father’s efforts to marry me off to the first warm body who shows a little interest.”

  “Oh dear!” Charlie laughed and blushed slightly at the same time.

  “I told him my interests don’t lie there. Certainly not right away, anyhow. I’d like to be a reporter.” Sorrow had learned about Nellie Bly in college, and the thought of having the nerve to infiltrate an asylum and expose its unethical practices to the world thrilled her. Next to that, the prospect of marrying some bland and inoffensive fellow and producing child after child to whom she would be expected to devote the rest of her days sounded like Sorrow’s idea of a living death.

  “A reporter? Reporting on what, then?”

  “I don’t know. The only offers I’ve gotten are for society columns. As if I care which families have vacationed where lately. Nobody even reads such piffle, anyhow; it’s just a way for people to boast about their travels. Such a waste of ink.”

  “Must be an audience for it, or they wouldn’t bother running it. And for your information, I’m extremely interested in where people vacation. It’s part of why I’m here.”

  Sorrow met Charlie’s grin with a scowl. “Be that as it may, I’ve no interest in contributing to that particular part of the newspaper.”

  “Fair enough.” Charlie took a long drink of the ale Balt brought him before continuing. “So, then, what exactly have you heard here about Hal?”

  “Nothing. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” she said. “Except for Quentin. He didn’t deny knowing what had really happened to Hal, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Hm. Well, I don’t know that I’d read too much into that. As you noticed when you observed his business with the jars, that Quentin is quite the odd duck.”

  “Indeed, he is. But today when I was on the beach, human bones washed up in the tide.”

  “Human bones?” Charlie blanched. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. A torso and an arm. And I went straight to the marshal about it. I might as well have told him I’d found a piece of driftwood for all he seemed to care. Said that kind of thing happens all the time here.”

  “Really?” Charlie sounded as if he didn’t believe her.

  “Well, perhaps I’m exaggerating, but he was that nonchalant.”

  Balt brought them their lunch, and Sorrow tried to summon an appetite for her cheese on toast. The smell of Charlie’s flounder turned her stomach.

  “How is Father?” Sorrow asked after a few bites of lunch. “Is he very furious?”

  Charlie put his fork down and chuckled.

  “Fit to be tied. Wasn’t good for any work yesterday until I assured him that I’d head out here and see you home safely. I thought I was going to have to stop him from jumping in the harbor and swimming here himself.”

  Something inside Sorrow twisted, and she recognized a pang of guilt. She truly hadn’t meant to upset Father. He often seemed so annoyed by her presence that she’d thought he might welcome a few days without her. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d worry so much, but perhaps it should have, what with Hal already missing.

  Charlie leaned over and lowered his voice.

  “Sorrow, your father told me that he’s been in contact with some men from a high-powered detective agency. There’s nothing those fellows can’t sniff out. The locals here may not answer to you, but if there truly is something to tell about Hal’s time here, they’ll answer to those fellows or find themselves in jail. Or worse.”

  “Really?” The kitchen door squealed, and Sorrow looked around the tavern briefly. Had Naomi Cooper just been standing behind the bar, trying to listen to them? If so, she had ducked out of sight rather quickly.

  “Yes. Really. Those fellows don’t mess around. And heaven knows your father can afford to send them on a task such as this.”

  “I just don’t know…” Sorrow shook her head. “Did Hal seem unhappy to you before he left town?” The thought that perhaps he’d tired of life in Baltimore and wished to start over somewhere else had occurred to her.

  “Not at all. Sure, that business with Grace got to him, but who could blame him there? And he was quite excited about the prospect of turning this place into another Ocean City. Or even Atlantic City.”

&n
bsp; Sorrow simply couldn’t envision Tidepool becoming a bustling, popular resort for wealthy people, no matter how hard she tried.

  Charlie swallowed a bite of flounder before continuing. “Anyhow, I know that your intentions are the best, but I strongly suggest you leave the investigating to your father and the authorities. And that’s assuming Hal isn’t on his way home as we speak. Or already there.”

  Sorrow nodded, but inwardly she chafed at Charlie telling her what to do.

  Charlie was about to ask her something else when a heated argument on the street outside distracted him. They turned to stare out the window by their table.

  “Didn’t think you’d ever have the nerve to show your face here again!” A skinny bald man, flushed with apparent rage, shoved a red-haired man hard enough to knock the unfortunate fellow over into the street, making Sorrow gasp. Their companions stepped in and held them apart before the redhead could retaliate.

  “What on earth?” Charlie asked.

  A heavyset man at a nearby table clucked his tongue.

  “Oh, that was a bad business, that was,” he said. “That red-haired fellow, he’s a fisherman. Silas, I think he’s called. Doesn’t live here, but comes through now and again. Anyhow, he got tangled up with Al Swenson’s daughter. Didn’t end so well.”

  His taller, thinner companion let out a chuckle that didn’t sound at all amused. “Didn’t end so well? The poor girl’s dead, Brody.”

  “Dead?” Sorrow looked away from the scene outside.

  “Brody!” Balt glared at the heavyset man. Sorrow could read his implied message clearly: Not in front of the strangers.

  Charlie’s eyebrows were raised as Sorrow looked back at him, her mouth slightly open.

  “Don’t Brody me, Cooper.” Sorrow guessed that Brody had perhaps started drinking a bit earlier than was common here, judging from his loud voice and rosy face. “Something like that was bound to happen sooner or later. Nothing to do around here but fish, eat, and f—”

  “Finish that sentence and I’ll put you out of here.” Balt’s face had gone red. “There are ladies present.”

 

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