Tidepool

by Nicole Willson

  But that prospect seemed more alarming while they were still in Tidepool and significantly outnumbered by the townspeople. Who knew what else Mrs. Oliver could be hiding in that basement?

  And would these men even believe her if she did try to tell them? Most likely, they’d react as Charlie had.

  “Well, we’re not sure where Hal’s gotten off to,” she said at last. “We’ve gotten conflicting reports about that. Certainly haven’t seen him here, though.”

  “Conflicting reports? How’s that?” Burnett asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “We just don’t know where he might have ended up. He checked out of here, but the fellows at the stables don’t remember seeing him leave town.”

  “That certainly is peculiar. A fellow like that would stand out in a place like this.” Warner wrinkled his nose slightly when he said the word this.

  “We’ve been talking to this gentleman,” Burnett said, indicating Balt and giving a sardonic tone to the word gentleman, “but I can’t say he’s been too helpful.”

  “I’ve told you,” Balt said, his gaze darting between the detectives and Sorrow, “we don’t follow our guests everywhere to keep track of what they’re doing. I assumed that Mr. Hamilton had left town. It isn’t as if there’s that much of Tidepool to see. I thought that perhaps he had gone back to Ocean City. That’s a much more interesting place for a young man to visit, I’d think.”

  Sorrow tried not to wince. Balt was an atrocious liar; his voice went high and reedy, he fidgeted and avoided people’s eyes, and beads of sweat shone on his forehead. And the two detectives clearly hadn’t missed that. They glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, and Burnett shook his head.

  Warner looked over Sorrow and Charlie and noticed their cases.

  “You two look like you were going somewhere,” he said.

  “Yes, Mr. Warner. Charlie and I were just going to head for the stables. I believe Charlie’s finished his business here, and I was going to return to Baltimore this morning; I didn’t want Father to worry any longer.” She eyed the detectives wryly. “It appears I didn’t move fast enough.”

  “Well, surely that’s not a surprise, miss,” Burnett replied. “It was bad enough that his son went missing, but when you came here and didn’t come back either, he was beside himself. And who could blame him?”

  “Well, then it’s settled. I don’t wish to upset Father any more, so we’ll be on our way,” Sorrow said. “If we can just finish up things with Mr. Cooper.”

  “I don’t suppose you folks would consider staying in town just a bit longer?” Burnett asked. “We’d be very interested to hear what you’ve been told about where Henry is.”

  Sorrow’s heart sank. Every time she thought she was finally breaking free of this damnable town, something else intervened to keep her here.

  “Gentlemen, I would really like to get back to Baltimore as soon as possible,” she said in a tone far haughtier than she generally liked to use. “I don’t wish to worry Father any longer, and I can’t imagine what we’d have to tell you that would be any real help.”

  “Oh?” Warner looked at her with an expression Sorrow couldn’t quite place and didn’t like. His cold gray eyes reminded her somewhat of Father’s. “What about your friend Mr. Sherman there? Doesn’t he talk?”

  “Sure he does,” Charlie said in a croaky voice. “I was just up… late last night.”

  “Doing what, exactly?” Burnett asked, knotting his heavy dark eyebrows together and sweeping an arm around. “A busy place, this isn’t.”

  “I don’t sleep well in strange places,” Charlie mumbled. “And I might have had just a bit too much whiskey in Balt’s tavern beforehand.”

  “Aha,” Burnett said with a knowing nod. “Well, we’ll try not to detain you folks any longer than we have to, but your father gave us a job, Miss Hamilton. We found you and Mr. Sherman, but we still need to find your brother. Any information you’ve gotten from here could be helpful with that. Surely you can understand.”

  Sorrow felt sick and leaden inside.

  “Very well,” she said at last, wondering if she had just signed her own death warrant.

  “Why don’t you two go get something to eat?” Burnett said. “We’ll be in to talk with you shortly.”

  As always, Sorrow was terribly hungry but couldn’t imagine eating, and the prospect of the tavern’s dreadful, fish-flavored food was especially unappetizing this morning.

  “Coffee would be good,” Charlie mumbled.

  “You can leave your bags here,” Balt chimed in. “No one will bother them.”

  Sorrow and Charlie left their suitcases behind the desk, and as Balt took Sorrow’s case from her, he met her eyes briefly. He said nothing, but she understood his look all the same: Please don’t give anything away. Remember what I told you.

  Charlie and Sorrow walked into the tavern, which was empty. Sorrow heard banging noises coming from the kitchen, but saw no sign of Naomi.

  They took a table by the window, and Charlie leaned over to her. His hazel eyes were bleary and red-rimmed, a look Sorrow was coming to associate with Tidepool. She wondered if she appeared the same way to him, if that was just how everyone ended up looking after being in this place for too long.

  “Say, Sorrow,” he whispered. “All that stuff you told me last night?”

  “Yes? What about it?”

  “Were you just pulling my leg?” Charlie stared at her as if he were willing her to admit that it had all been a great joke.

  And now Sorrow didn’t know what to say. Of course it hadn’t been a joke, but if they were about to be questioned by detectives, maybe it was better if Charlie believed it was.

  But she was still raw and tired from everything she had witnessed. And why did she care about protecting this town? Had anyone protected her brother when he was here? Quite clearly, they had not.

  But then she thought about Quentin, hiding in the dark inn last night to be sure Lucy didn’t come for her.

  “Sorrow?” Charlie said again.

  She sighed. “Of course, Charlie. It was all a lark.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “As far as those men out there are concerned? Yes, it was. Not a word to them about it. Do you understand?”

  “I don’t understand any of this.” Charlie leaned back into his seat.

  The kitchen door banged open with another squeal and a very flustered Naomi came out. She spotted them over by the window and looked furious as she headed for their table.

  “You haven’t left yet?” she said by way of greeting.

  “Well, that’s friendly,” Charlie said. “And no, clearly we haven’t. Those gentlemen out there requested that we stay put for the time being.” He tipped his head towards the foyer.

  Naomi looked at the detectives and drew in a sharp breath.

  “And who are they?” she asked.

  “They’re detectives Miss Hamilton’s father sent down from Baltimore. Came here looking for us. And Henry Hamilton,” Charlie said. “They got two out of three, but until someone here can produce Henry, you might have some new guests for a while, Mrs. Cooper.”

  That news, Sorrow saw, did not please Naomi in the least. She bit her lip and looked terrified as she stared at the detectives. If they happened to glance over and see the way she was staring at them…

  “But we’ll take some breakfast while we’re waiting, please,” Sorrow said.

  “See what I can do,” Naomi grumbled. “All this, and my best kitchen knife is missing too.”

  The knife. It was still in Sorrow’s pocket. She had completely forgotten it in the confusion following the arrival of the detectives.

  And now she didn’t want to take it out in front of Charlie or the two men. Any detective worth his salt was going to wonder why she’d felt strongly enough about needing a weapon to sneak down to the kitchen in the middle of the night and steal one.

  Sorrow sighed and put her head in her hands as Naomi stalked
off to the kitchen.

  “You ok, Sorrow?” Charlie asked.

  “No. I thought we’d be on our way out of this place by now.”

  And I thought I’d be able to stop worrying about what went on here.

  “Well, they can’t keep us too long,” Charlie said, patting her arm. “Really, they can’t keep us at all, can they? It’s not like we’ve been charged with anything. What could they do to us?”

  Sorrow wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that. She’d heard stories about private detectives. Some of them could be rather ruthless when they were pursuing information.

  Just as she was going to ask Charlie to be sure to keep quiet about what she’d told him, Burnett and Warner strode into the tavern. They pulled up two chairs to Sorrow and Charlie’s table without invitation, and she observed that they positioned their chairs in a way that would make it difficult for Sorrow or Charlie to get up and leave easily. She wondered if they’d done it deliberately.

  Of course they had.

  “Hello again, folks,” Burnett said. “We do apologize for delaying your exit from this town, but we didn’t want you to leave before we had a chance to talk to you about Henry. How’s the food in this place, by the way?” Burnett’s last question earned him an annoyed look from Warner.

  “Passable,” Charlie replied.

  Burnett laughed heartily. “Well, that’s a recommendation! But I’m afraid it’ll have to do, eh?” He held a finger to his prominent chin as he studied the menu Naomi had left behind.

  “It will. Unless you can fish,” Charlie said. Something in Burnett’s jocular tone had stirred Charlie, and he was beginning to look more animated. Sorrow wasn’t sure if she thought that was a good thing.

  “Who have you talked to here about your brother’s disappearance, Miss Hamilton?” Warner asked abruptly. Everything about the smaller man looked gray: his hair, his eyes, his suit, even his skin.

  “The Coopers, of course.” Sorrow met Warner’s eyes, trying to sound casual and confident. “The town marshal. The people at the stables. A few other townspeople.”

  “I see. And what, exactly, did they tell you?”

  “Very little. They’d seen him around and a few people talked to him, but nobody saw him leave. However, there’s been no sign of him here for some time. And we got no word of him being anywhere else. I gather Father has received no information back at home?”

  Burnett tilted his head sideways as he looked at Sorrow. “I’m afraid he hasn’t. Miss Hamilton, would it have been like your brother to just head out somewhere new on a lark?”

  “He’d take spontaneous trips sometimes, but not without getting word to us about it. He’d never have wanted to upset us.”

  “No women anywhere he might have been looking in on?”

  “No, sir. Not that I know of.”

  “Hrm,” Warner said. The light from outside reflected off the perfectly round lenses of his spectacles, and Sorrow couldn’t tell what he might be thinking.

  Naomi came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of coffee and two cups which she nearly dropped when she saw the two detectives sitting with Sorrow and Charlie.

  “Well, now, that looks like a grand idea,” Burnett said as a scowling Naomi maneuvered clumsily around the detectives to set the coffee pot and cups down on the table. “We’ve been traveling all night, and I’m bushed. Don’t suppose you could scare up some more of that, ma’am?”

  “Yes, sir.” Naomi spoke to the floor before turning and scuttling back to the kitchen.

  “Now, Mr. Sherman,” Warner said, looking at Charlie through those same narrowed eyes. “Mr. Hamilton sent you down here looking for his daughter. Why did you two not return home when you found her?”

  Charlie swallowed. “I had some business to attend to here.”

  One of Warner’s eyebrows shot up over his glasses. “What sort of business could you have here?”

  “Didn’t Mr. Hamilton tell you?” Charlie poured himself coffee as he spoke. “Property development. Hal and his father and I had an idea that this place could be turned into another Ocean City. I was going to go around to some of the more prominent residents here, trying to see if any of them might get on board with that.”

  “But you were going to leave this morning?” Warner asked.

  “Yes, sir. Would have left yesterday, in fact, so as not to worry Mr. Hamilton. But the marshal made us stay.”

  Sorrow nearly spilled her coffee. She stared at Charlie, willing him not to say anything else about the marshal or why he’d kept them.

  “The marshal? Why in hell did the marshal want you staying here?” Burnett asked, his dark eyes narrowing.

  “Dead fellow washed up on the beach the other morning,” Charlie said.

  The crash behind them made them all jump. Naomi, who’d emerged from the kitchen with another coffee pot and set of cups, had just dropped them everywhere.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE VERY AWKWARD BREAKFAST

  “Well, that’s a mess,” Burnett said. “Here, ma’am, let me give you a hand with that.” He got up to help Naomi pick up the scattered cups.

  Warner remained seated with his lips pursed, as if Naomi had been rude.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Naomi murmured.

  “Accidents happen, ma’am,” Burnett said. “But please do hurry back with some more coffee, yes?”

  Naomi scurried away to the kitchen without another word. Sorrow saw Balt hustle back there with her.

  “Now, where were we?” Burnett said when he sat again.

  “They say a dead fellow washed up on the beach yesterday,” Warner said.

  “A dead fellow? Well, that’s ghastly. You know who it was?”

  “No sir,” Charlie said. “Sorrow here got a better look at him than I did.”

  “Is that right?” Warner looked at her sharply. “Why would a lady ever want to get a look at something like that?”

  Sorrow glared at him. “Surely that’s obvious. I was afraid it could be my brother.”

  “But it wasn’t?” Burnett asked, with a kinder tone than Warner took.

  “No, sir. It wasn’t easy to tell, but whoever the person was, he had red hair. My brother didn’t.”

  Warner tilted his head and stared at her even more intently. And now Burnett was looking at her with extra interest too. What had she said?

  “People here were saying he was a fisherman in town for a day or two. The poor fellow looked like a shark got to him,” Charlie said.

  “A shark? That kind of thing happen a lot around here?” Burnett asked.

  “That’s what they say,” Sorrow said. “The town is right on the ocean.”

  Naomi reappeared at that point with a tray of cups and another coffee pot, which she set down in front of Burnett and Warner. She had a rag slung over one arm, and after she had set everything on their table, she bent over and started rubbing intently at the stain the coffee had left on the wooden floor.

  “Some of the other people here seemed to know more about that man,” Charlie piped up, sounding like he was trying to be helpful. “You could ask them.”

  “Hmm,” Burnett said. “Well, we’re not really here to investigate the whole town, Mr. Sherman. If you’re sure it wasn’t Mr. Hamilton, then I say that dead fellow is Tidepool’s problem, not ours.”

  “But you say the marshal kept you in town because of this, Miss Hamilton?” Warner asked, his eyes narrowed behind his spectacles.

  “Yes. He wanted us to stay around. In case he had questions.”

  “And has he asked you his questions yet?” Burnett asked.

  “No.”

  Burnett and Warner traded glances, and Sorrow wondered what was passing between them.

  “Mighty odd way to run an investigation,” Warner said.

  There is very little about this town that isn’t odd, Sorrow wanted to say. But she didn’t welcome the new round of questions a comment like that would bring.

  Balt started bringing out plate
s of food at that point, and Sorrow tried to muster enthusiasm for the plate of rubbery eggs and dry toast that sat in front of her.

  Burnett tucked a napkin into his shirt collar and dove into his breakfast with gusto, while Charlie ate some of the dry bread with less enthusiasm. Warner sipped coffee and ate nothing. He was staring out the window at something.

  “So where is this marshal now?” Warner asked finally, directing the question at Charlie.

  “Marshal’s office is up on Gull Street,” Naomi said from behind them. She was still rubbing at the damp spot on the floor. Sorrow thought there couldn’t be much of the coffee left to stain the wood, and judging from the state of the tavern floor, one more spill would barely be noticed.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Burnett said around a mouthful of eggs.

  “I say,” Warner said in surprise. “Who’s she?”

  He tipped his head towards the window. Sorrow glanced up, and her pulse began to quicken.

  Mrs. Oliver walked down Main Street towards Cooper’s Inn, looking as always like a sinister apparition in her stark black clothing.

  “That’s Ada Oliver,” Charlie said. He and Sorrow exchanged alarmed glances.

  Sorrow, remembering what had happened the last time she saw Mrs. Oliver, began shaking uncontrollably.

  “You all right there, Miss Hamilton?” Burnett eyed her with obvious interest.

  Naomi finally stopped rubbing at the spot on the floor. She straightened up with a groan and stared out the window along with them, and Sorrow did not miss the look of pure hatred she directed at Mrs. Oliver’s approaching form. Naomi let out a hissing breath and hurried out to the Inn’s entrance, something that neither Burnett nor Warner seemed to notice.

  “Ada Oliver looks a bit fancy for this town, doesn’t she?” Warner said, running a hand over his dark hair.

  “I understand that her family has been here for a while,” Sorrow said.

  “What’s with all the black?” Burnett said. “Someone else die lately?”

  “She’s a widow,” Charlie said. “I’ve no idea how long ago her husband died.”

  “Ah,” Burnett said. He and Warner traded knowing glances. “Is she one of those sorts who gets a bit theatrical about the whole ‘grieving widow’ bit?”