Stranger's Game

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Stranger's Game Page 2

by Colleen Coble


  Which explained why the lights all over the island were so dim. Torie nibbled on her chocolate peanut butter fudge and listened to the child ramble on. She was a cute kid with red hair in a ponytail that swung with the girl’s constant motion. Her green eyes held a world of interest and enthusiasm.

  Torie must have looked as dazed as she felt because Joe grinned. “In case you’re wondering, she never shuts up. Except when she’s sleeping. The rest of the time, the mouth is engaged.”

  Hailey wrinkled her nose. “Dad, that’s mean. You didn’t listen very well to the sermon last week. ‘Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.’”

  He tugged on her ponytail. “Oh yeah? Well, what about, ‘Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another’?”

  They were quoting Bible verses to each other? Who did that? Certainly not her father or any of her friends’ families, even though she attended church every Sunday. The affection between them was interesting though. Maybe it was because they had only each other.

  Silence settled between them as they ate their treats. Guests strolled the path to the shops and the hotel, and Torie closed her eyes a moment to breathe in the aroma of the resort: suntan lotion, ocean, freshly mown grass, lavender, and Russian sage—all blended with the sweet scent of myriad fudge flavors. She could almost hear Lisbeth’s voice calling for her to hurry to the beach with her. Or asking if they could please have two flavors of fudge this time.

  Torie’s eyes stung, and she opened them to stare down at the treat in her hand. It had suddenly lost its allure.

  “You okay?” Joe asked.

  “Fine.” She opened her mouth to blurt out her questions about Lisbeth’s death when she heard Genevieve’s voice calling to Joe.

  “It’s Miss Genevieve!” Hailey bolted from her chair and raced to intercept Torie’s aunt.

  “There’s my favorite girl.” The older woman embraced the child, hugging her around the waist.

  Torie turned her face away from Genevieve. Was that actually affection in her aunt’s voice? Growing up, all Torie had heard from her starchy voice were criticism and orders. Aunt Genevieve had no children of her own. She’d always said the hotel was the only child she needed, and Torie had always understood she was to stay out of the way and not draw attention to herself.

  Her mother had tried to protect her, but Lily Bergstrom’s gentle voice and manner was no match for the juggernaut named Genevieve. When Dad was around, his sister-in-law backed off, but he was often gone visiting other hotel properties.

  While her aunt’s attention was on the little girl, Torie rose to her feet. “I have to go. Catch you later, Joe.” Her pulse pounded in her neck as she hurried off.

  Her aunt’s voice carried on the sea breeze. “Who was that young lady rushing off?”

  “Torie Berg,” Joe said. “She’s working at the hotel in the IT department.”

  “I hadn’t realized we’d hired someone. I will have to meet her. She should have introduced herself when she arrived.”

  Torie rounded a cottage far enough away to catch her breath and let her heart rate resume its normal rhythm. Surely her aunt wouldn’t recognize her after all this time. Torie’s hair had darkened from its corn silk color to dark brown, and she was pale-skinned now, too, not the tanned urchin running around the property the way she’d done when she was a child.

  It would be impossible to work at the hotel and evade the attention of Genevieve Hallston, who micromanaged the resort down to how many tea lights to order. Her aunt’s reputation meant everything to her, and Torie was under no illusions that an IT employee would go unnoticed. Her aunt attended to every detail of the guests’ wants, and Torie didn’t expect the job to be easy.

  But she wasn’t ready to face her aunt just yet. She had to be able to mask her heartache. Right now things felt too raw.

  With her heartbeat finally at a normal rhythm, she hurried to her cottage. Her luggage was just as she’d left it inside. She shut and locked the door, then rolled it out of the way. Leaning against the closed door, she exhaled. She was finally alone and didn’t have to manage every word, every expression. This was already harder than she’d ever dreamed it would be.

  She panned her gaze around the cottage, and she began to walk through it. Medium-tone wood floors gleamed in the light from the lamps. The coastal vibe of the comfortable sand-colored furniture and pale-aqua walls made her feel at home. The perfect touches of beach décor on glass-topped tables and shelves made her wonder if her aunt had decorated this place. Either that or the designer had followed Aunt Genevieve’s explicit instructions.

  The living room opened into a dollhouse kitchen. The white cabinets looked new, and she ran her hand along the smooth surface of the pale-gray quartz countertop. She’d be very comfortable here. At least she’d have this sanctuary for escape. She’d have to order in groceries. There was nothing in the house to eat, and though she wasn’t hungry, she would be by morning.

  She went back to her luggage and unzipped the outer pocket of her suitcase to pull out her laptop. When she’d gotten on the plane in Phoenix, there’d been no details online of her friend’s funeral service yet.

  No matter what the danger, she couldn’t miss the opportunity to say good-bye to Lisbeth.

  Torie sank onto the comfortable sofa and checked the local news.

  There it was. The service was later than she expected—not until next weekend on Sunday morning. Ten days away, probably to allow for the autopsy, but it was still not nearly enough time to prepare her heart for what she had to do. She’d be there though. Didn’t cop shows mention the killer often showed up at the funeral of his victim? Torie planned to sit in the back and examine every person who came through the door. The hard part would be ignoring her father, who was flying in later tonight. She could only hope he didn’t let her identity slip.

  She was going to bring Lisbeth’s killer to justice no matter what it took.

  Chapter 3

  Zachry’s Riverhouse was hopping tonight. Joe and Hailey were lucky enough to get seated at a table with a view of the marina. The mouth-watering aromas of crab cakes and shrimp vied with those of fries and burgers.

  While Joe waited to order, he spotted Craig Hall waiting to be seated. They had room at their table, so he rose and asked the hostess to bring him over.

  Craig, a Georgia state trooper, high-fived Joe when he arrived at the table. “Thanks for saving me from a long wait. It’s been quite the day.” He tugged on Hailey’s ponytail. “Hey, squirt.”

  They’d met when Joe’s moving truck broke down on the causeway over to the island, and the trooper stopped to help. They were about the same age, and Craig had been recently divorced so the two had bonded over their losses in life. He’d been the one Joe had called when he found Lisbeth’s body. The trooper’s sharp eyes and nose for truth had seen him promoted six months ago.

  They ordered sweet teas, and the server brought their drinks with cheese sticks while they waited for their meals. “So what was up with your day?”

  Craig took a sip of his drink. “Protesters had the bridge closed most of the day. Some drivers got out and started slinging their fists around. Two people were taken to the hospital. Wild scene.”

  “Hey, Craig,” Joe dipped a cheese stick in marinara sauce, “what’s the latest on the Nelson drowning? Someone told me today she’d heard it wasn’t accidental.”

  Craig frowned and shook his head. “I don’t know where that came from. It’s pretty straightforward according to the initial investigation. Water in her lungs, no sign of foul play that the coroner found. We’ve sent fluids off, including the water in her lungs, for a toxicology report. We don’t have everything back yet, but it doesn’t seem to be anything hinky. Sounds to me like someone was just trying to cause drama.”

  Torie didn’t seem the dram
a type. She’d jumped into action at the first sign his daughter might be in danger, and she had the kind of personality that felt calming. Or maybe it was just he’d been so relieved to find Hailey in one piece.

  “So definitely didn’t look like a homicide.”

  “Nope.” Craig took a swig of his sweet tea. “We will be releasing the body in a few days, and I hear the service is going to be at Faith Chapel next weekend, Sunday morning. I thought I might go.”

  “I will too, just to pay my respects.” And maybe if he was honest, he wanted to see if Torie showed up. Her curiosity seemed unusual.

  Craig reached for a chip. “So who is questioning the death?”

  “A new employee at the hotel. Torie Berg. She said she was watching the news because she was moving here and heard something about it being suspicious.”

  “That’s a crock. I’ve seen every bit of news coverage. Nothing’s been mentioned but accidental drowning. Seems strange to me that she’s saying anything when she just got here. What do you make of her questions?”

  “I wasn’t sure where she was coming from, and I thought she seemed too interested in the case.”

  She was an enigma. She was attractive but reserved. And she wore expensive clothes and shoes. Even he could recognize quality when he saw it. So she was likely a spendthrift unless she came from money, and if that was the case, why would she be working an IT job on a remote island?

  His initial reservations about her surged, but maybe he was the one causing drama this time. For all he knew she bought good clothes secondhand. His wife used to do that. It wasn’t a crime to like quality.

  So why was he mentally defending her? He barely knew the woman, but something about her intense interest in the case had him wondering if everything she had told him was true. She was a neighbor so it shouldn’t be hard to learn a little more about her.

  Joe glanced at his daughter, but she was busy tossing pieces of her bun to the birds. He touched her arm and shook his head. She scowled but obeyed his silent order. The last thing the restaurant needed was to have birds demanding to be fed and making a mess everywhere.

  “How’s work?” Craig asked.

  “Busy month coming. We’ve got a new nuclear sub arriving soon, and there will be war games.”

  “You meet anyone new yet?”

  A vision of Torie’s slim neck holding her crown of braids high flashed through his head. “I don’t have time to date.”

  “I say that to acquaintances all the time, and we both know it’s a lie. I’m getting over my divorce and you need to get over Julie’s death.” Craig’s gaze slid to Hailey, who seemed to be paying no attention. “We’re both too young to be alone the rest of our lives. At least I’m trying to move on. You don’t seem to even notice an attractive woman when you see her.”

  Craig gave a nod toward the hostess seating a family two tables away. “She’s not married and not dating anyone. We went out once, but there was no spark, you know. You should try.”

  Joe glanced at the attractive brunette. “I’ve talked to her a few times, but I don’t like being gone from Hailey. Any woman will want more attention than I can give her. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Maybe you’ll find a woman who loves your daughter.”

  Joe didn’t see that happening. Every teacher Hailey had so far was married. And talking to a stranger’s child didn’t happen all that often.

  The server brought their plates of food, and his stomach rumbled at the aroma of crab cakes. He shoved away the questions he had about Torie. She wasn’t his business.

  * * *

  Torie found nothing belonging to Lisbeth anywhere in the cottage.

  She exhaled and shut the drawer of the bedside table. It had been a vain hope to think that something of Lisbeth’s might be hidden here, but Torie wasn’t ready to give up yet. She glanced around. Where else might she look?

  She wandered the bedroom. There had been nothing under the bed or in the closet. The bathroom drawers were spotless and empty, as was the space under the sink. She’d searched everywhere in the living room and kitchen, but maybe she’d missed something.

  She gave a last glance around the room, then went back to the main living area. Her gaze landed on the glass bookshelf. About ten books, arranged by color, were interspersed with large seashells. She hadn’t checked inside the books.

  The first book was on the history of Jekyll Island with the cover depicting the ruins of the Horton House. The pictures of the old days made her pause to read a few tidbits about the club era and the members who used the place as a hunting club during the turn of the century: Rockefeller, DuBignon, Morgan, Vanderbilt, Pulitzer. The prominent names went on and on. There were pictures of lavish dinner parties with ladies in exquisite dresses followed by ones of men with cigars and whiskey glasses in the library.

  She flipped through the pages and found nothing suspicious, then laid it on the desk and pulled out the next book, a book about loggerhead turtles. Hailey might be interested in it. The third book was titled The Creature from Jekyll Island and was about the Federal Reserve. She laid it aside to read herself. The next book felt off when she pulled it out. The dust jacket felt loose and too big for the book it covered.

  She opened it and gasped when she saw a Moleskine notebook decorated with Lisbeth’s customary swirling design on the outside. She opened it to the first page and recognized her friend’s distinctive writing: half-script and half-printed letters. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the scent of Versace Bright Crystal, a fragrance Torie had first bought for Lisbeth’s birthday when she was fifteen. She’d kept Lisbeth supplied ever since.

  Torie closed her eyes and could see Lisbeth’s smile. She began to tremble and opened her eyes. The notebook shook in her hands. While she’d hoped for a message from her friend, she hadn’t expected to find anything, not really. Whatever Lisbeth had written here had been important enough for her to hide. What did that mean?

  Torie carried her find to the sofa, where she settled to read it. The entries appeared to be dated daily, almost like a diary or a recounting of her events. As Torie scanned it, she realized it was a journal of Lisbeth’s first days here. But it felt off somehow. She flipped through the pages, and looking closer, she discovered several pages had been cut cleanly from the book with a razor. Why?

  The task of figuring it out felt overwhelming tonight. She was tired, discouraged, and scared of facing her aunt. Even though she told herself she’d feel better after a good night’s sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Not right now.

  The first entry was dated the day after Lisbeth had arrived, one month ago today.

  June 2

  Genevieve didn’t recognize me, and I decided not to make myself known to her. There will be time enough for that later. Granted, I was in the back row of the orientation for new employees, but I must admit I felt slighted when her gaze zipped right past my face without so much as a flicker of recognition. To be fair, she wouldn’t have expected to see her niece’s best friend from childhood in that setting, and she also hadn’t seen me in eighteen years, not since Torie had left the island. The last time we’d been eyeball to eyeball was when I was ten. At the orientation I was next to Bella Hansen, who was going to work the front desk. She seemed nice, and I think we’re going to be friends. In fact, I know we are because I found out she’ll be sharing my cottage since there are two bedrooms here. She’s moving in tomorrow.

  June 4

  I started work today, and I was able to meet the head of IT. It’s too soon to ask about Lily, so I made small talk and flirted a little even though Kyle Ballard gave me the creeps just a little. He reminded me of an orangutan with his spiky red hair and big hands and feet. I didn’t like the amorous way his gaze wandered either. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and yell, “My face is up here, Bucko.” I was glad I wasn’t wearing a V-neck top or anything revealing. Ick. But he showed me my office, a tiny cubicle in the back. Today Kyle was in and out too much. I have
a feeling he’s going to be a problem. Bella moved in yesterday, and we are getting along okay, though I couldn’t help meddling a bit. She’s engaged, but she’s been hooking up with another guy. I caught a glimpse of him outside the door, and I wasn’t impressed. For one thing he’s too old for her. She got mad when I told her it wasn’t right, but I’ve always found it hard to shut up when I should.

  June 6

  Someone broke into my cottage last night. I didn’t know it until I got up this morning and found the back door standing open. There was a note on the dining table that read, “I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. GO AWAY OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES.” I cried when I read it because I knew then for sure that something bad had happened to Torie’s mother. If her death was truly an accident, no one would be trying to scare me off. And it made me more determined to find out who was behind this. If I can, maybe Torie can finally move on and have peace.

  Torie closed her eyes and inhaled. Lisbeth hadn’t said a word about wanting to find out what had happened to Mom. Was that the real reason she’d come back to the island? She’d told Torie she missed the water and wanted to come back to her hometown. Torie had been happy to arrange a job for her, but she wouldn’t have done it if she’d realized Lisbeth’s true purpose.

  Had it gotten her killed?

  She should have known though—Lisbeth had told her the reason Torie was so walled off from other people was she’d never dealt with her mom’s death. And maybe it was true, but if probing Mom’s death had led to Lisbeth’s death, it would be an even harder truth to deal with.

  Torie jumped when someone knocked at her door. Her heart rate doubled, and her mouth went dry. Could someone have figured out who she was already? She shut the notebook and tucked it down into the sofa before she went to peer through the window.

 

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