by Haley Harper
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Bring the milk and vanilla bean to a boil in a medium sauce pan over medium heat and set aside to infuse for 10 to 15 minutes. Whisk the egg yolks and granulated sugar until light and fluffy. Add the cornstarch and whisk vigorously until no lumps remain. Whisk 1/4 cup of the hot milk mixture into the yolks until incorporated. Whisk in the remaining hot milk mixture. Pour the mixture through a strainer back into the saucepan. Cook over medium-high heat, whisking constantly, until thickened and slowly boiling. Remove from the heat and stir in the butter. Let cool slightly. Cover with plastic wrap, lightly pressing the plastic against the surface to prevent a skin from forming. Chill at least two hours. (The pastry cream can be made up to 24 hours in advance. Refrigerate until 1 hour before using.)
Brown Sugar Whipped Cream:
2 cups chilled heavy cream
2 tablespoons light brown sugar
Whip the cream and brown sugar until stiff.
Assembly Directions
In a large bowl toss together the cake scraps, simple syrup, and liquor to moisten the cake.
In a trifle bowl or individual glass stemware, layer the ingredients in the following order:
Cake
Vanilla Cream
Brown Sugar Whipped Cream
Nuts and strawberries
Repeat until the container is full, ending with whipped cream as the top layer.
Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to serve. Trifle improves the longer it sits. Even overnight is fine.
Garnish with strawberries, finely chopped nuts and whipped cream
Boathouse Bedlam
A Shannon Porter Mystery
With bonus recipes
By
Haley Harper
Boathouse Bedlam
©2014 by Haley Harper
All Rights Reserved
This story is a work of fiction. While some of the locations and events are based on historical folklore, the events that take place in the story are created by the author. Any resemblance to actual persons or places, real, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
“It was off season in Castle Cove and the time of year when all the repairs to the properties of Castle Cove Resort were made. A local carpenter had been called in to repair a broken window in the loft of the main boathouse. He was working alone, and about to put the replacement glass in place when he suddenly felt another presence in the room.
As he turned to investigate, he saw the floating figure of a woman hovering by the glassless window. Her back was to him, as she looked out over the lake. Startled, the man dropped the pane of glass he was holding and fled as it shattered to the floor. The next day, when he had once again gathered his wits, he returned to the Boathouse to clean up the mess and finish his work. He was the sole proprietor of the properties over the winter and their upkeep was his responsibility.
Needless to say, he was more than surprised when he returned to the loft to find the broken glass swept neatly into a pile, when no one but himself had access to the room.”
Shannon closed the guide book and rested her head back against the overstuffed pillow of her old green recliner. She couldn’t wait to get on her way for this trip. Her Maine trip was supposed to be her last, but now her schedule had changed and she would be travelling to visit the haunted castle in Ireland in early September instead. In a way she was glad since a trip to the coast was bound to be more enjoyable while the weather was still warm. Shannon had never been to Maine, so this would be a first. She loved seafood and was already anticipating some yummy meals.
The ghost of Castle Cove, nicknamed “The Blue Lady” was going to be a highlight of her latest book. Tourists from around the country booked beach houses, apartments and cottages at the Castle Cove Resort in hopes of catching a glimpse of the floating ghost.
The Boathouse, which Shannon had rented for the last week of August, was the most elaborate of all the rentals and far bigger than she needed for just herself and Edgar, but her editor had insisted that this was a place not to be missed, and footed the entire bill for her stay. Shannon was hoping to wrap up her research on this ghost and then have a bit of a vacation while she was there.
She closed her eyes and imagined walking along the sandy beach, Edgar chasing in and out of the waves like a puppy once again. She absently stroked the big black head as she thought about it. Edgar raised his head and wagged his bushy tail in response to her touch. He was a long way from being a puppy, but she knew a puppy still existed somewhere in his doggy mind. Every now and then he would have a spurt of energy and go crazy. It never lasted long before his old bones protested but she cherished every one of those moments.
Now that she had wakened him from his dream, he stood and wandered to the door.
“Well, now that you got me out of my chair, I might as well finish packing,” she said as she let him out. It never struck her as odd that she conversed with her dog. She just assumed all dog people did.
In her room, the suitcase lay on her bed, almost full. She was having some trouble deciding what kind of clothes to take. Being the end of August, it could get quite chilly at times, but it could also be hot. She had studied the weather forecast as far ahead as she could but it wasn’t much help. To her, it seemed like weather people covered all their bases so they could never be accused of being wrong. “Seasonal temperatures, with some cloud and a chance of showers,” pretty much had things covered.
She picked up her bathing suit and debated whether or not to throw it in. If it was hot, she could go for a dip in the bay. If it was too cold, she wouldn’t need it. But if she got her work all done, and it was hot, she could reward herself with some yummy time in the sun. Then again, maybe she shouldn’t take it at all so she wouldn’t be tempted to abandon her book for the beach.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she mumbled. “Just put the thing in your suitcase! Who’d have thought a little piece of spandex would cause you so much grief.” Like everyone always told her, “Decision making is not your strong suit, Shannon.” She tossed the suit in and closed the lid. With packing finished she felt like she was almost on her way. The only thing left to do now was call her Mom and say goodbye. And then, as if on cue, the phone rang.
“Hi, Mom. How’s things?”
“Good. You just about ready?”
“Yep. I finally finished packing a few minutes ago. Just have to tidy up around here a bit, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll be on my way first thing in the morning. What do you have planned for the week?”
“Oh, Burt and I are travelling to a couple of auctions over in the Riverton area. We might stay a couple days, do some sightseeing and explore the shops.”
Shannon smiled to herself. Her Mom always tried so hard to play down her budding romance with Burt, knowing that tales of her romantic involvement tended to make Shannon uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she had anything against Burt himself. He was a very charming and intelligent gentleman who owned an antique shop in town.
Somehow Myra had found out that some of the old places that Burt visited to buy antiques were supposedly haunted, and since she was always looking for a good ghost story, she started asking to tag along. Burt was glad to have the company and their friendship unexpectedly deepened into something more.
They had known each other for a long time but had only recently started “dating.” The word itself made Shannon shudder. Her Mom was 62! People that age didn’t date! And she didn’t even want to think about what else they might be doing. It was just too weird!
“Well you kids have a great time,” Shannon said jokingly. “Edgar and I will come for a visit as soon as we get back.”
“Okay, honey. Burt and I will come by and check on the house a couple times, don’t you worry about a thing. You drive safe, now. And be sure to say hi to the Blue Lady for me.”
“I will, and thanks. You tell Burt to drive safe too. See you soon.” Shannon was smiling as she placed
the phone back in its cradle. Her Mom would have wanted to come along if it hadn’t been for her new romance with Burt. There was nothing Myra loved more than meeting a new ghost. She was a self proclaimed medium and quite often captured an audience with her tales of communication with departed spirits. But as much as she loved her Mom, Shannon was glad to be making this trip on her own.
Once she finished the dishes and tidied up a bit, she crawled under the covers and once again opened her guidebook to learn a little more about Castle Cove and the ghosts who haunted it.
“On the point at Castle Cove, where the water flows into the bay, there stands an abandoned lighthouse. It is said that the lighthouse keeper lost his young wife to pneumonia when she was about due to deliver their first child. He blamed himself for bringing her to the damp, cold lighthouse to live, and could not reconcile his grief. He began drinking heavily, often ending the day passed out on the lighthouse floor and completely neglecting his lighthouse duties.
It is said that on the night that the Blue Lady’s husband was lost at sea, the keeper of the light had not lit the lamp, leaving those at sea to find their way home in darkness. To this day, many claim that they see a form of the lady in blue floating around the loft of the main boathouse, where she can look out over the sea to await her husband’s return.”
Shannon awoke with the book lying open on top of her as the early light of dawn trickled into her room. She squinted to see if Edgar was still sleeping, knowing that the second she moved he would be on her like a bee on honey. To her surprise, he was already up and stood looking at her expectantly from the foot of her bed.
Shannon closed the book and set it on her night table before stretching. If the accounts in the guidebook were any indication, this was going to be an awesome trip. From all reports, the ghosts there were quite active and most guests reported a spiritual encounter of some kind. “Well, Big guy,” she said, scratching the floppy ears, “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Chapter Two
Shannon had mapped out a route from her house to Castle Cove taking some of the less travelled back roads. It would add an extra hour or two to her trip, but the scenery and the serenity were worth it. For one, she hated freeway driving, and second, she could never find enough places to stop for an old dog that needed regular pit stops with at least a little bit of grass and preferably a tree or two.
About an hour into the drive, the buildings and pavement of the cities gave way to coastal grasses and sandy shorelines. The breeze was warm and Edgar travelled with his head out the window, ears flying and drool dripping down the open window. Shannon didn’t mind. The look of sheer bliss on his face was worth it. She remembered as a kid driving with her arm outstretched, letting the air rush through her fingers.
They stopped for a mid morning break at a little park on the edge of the river. Edgar had a good drink from the clear cool water, and Shannon poured coffee from her thermos. They shared a giant blueberry muffin that she had picked up at the bakery the day before. They were completely relaxed and happy, just the two of them.
For a moment, Shannon thought about her recent break up with Mitch, the teacher she had been dating before her last trip. She remembered how he had begged to come along with her, but she had been determined to go on her own. She needed to work, and she couldn’t do that with him around. In the end, it was probably a good thing, since she had ended up smack in the middle of a murder investigation, and Mitch ended up right smack in the middle of a fling with his teaching assistant.
So here she was, single and travelling with the only male she truly loved and trusted. Gathering their things together, she whistled for Edgar and headed back to the car. Castle Cove was only another three hours. She had plotted another picnic area on her map and that would be their last stop before the resort. The sun was high and the sky clear as they got back on the road.
Small towns came along less frequently now as the countryside opened up. The water was visible on the horizon and sparkled in the bright sun. Shannon could see dots of white where sailboats sat against the blue sky. She was reminded of the passage in her book that described encounters that several tourists had had with ghost ships out at sea. It was said at night their lights would appear and disappear on the horizon. Some even reported the entire ship glowing through the night.
Numerous ghost chasers had spent nights on their own boats out at sea hoping to catch glimpses of the nautical ghosts, but none had ever succeeded. Just thinking about it got Shannon’s blood racing. This book was turning out to be one of the most exciting projects she had had in a long time.
Her passion was writing mysteries, but this project was going to pay the bills for a while so she could do just that. Totally engrossed in her thoughts, Shannon was somewhat startled to see a person waving her down from the shoulder of the road. She slowed to a stop and pulled in behind a green minivan. She rolled the window down as a very frazzled young woman approached.
“Thank you so much for stopping,” she said, breathless. “Do you have a cell phone by chance? Mine seems to have died along with my battery. I need to call roadside assistance and my husband. He’ll be worried because we’re late. I’ve been waiting here for some time for someone to come by. This is one very quiet road.”
“No problem,” Shannon assured her. “I prefer the road less travelled.”
“Lucky for me,” the woman replied, offering her hand. “Jemma Duncan.”
“Shannon Porter. Your name sounds really familiar for some reason.”
“And yours,” she replied, smiling. “I think it’s because we spoke on the phone quite recently. Are you by chance heading for Castle Cove Resort?”
“As a matter of fact I am. And you’re the person who took my reservation!” Both women laughed. “Small world,” Shannon said, pulling her phone out of her purse. “Can we maybe give you a ride to the resort? You could get home faster that way.”
“Thanks, but I have a van full of screaming kids and an Irish setter that I really don’t think will fit in your little car. Plus, I don’t think your furry pal there would appreciate it either,” she laughed motioning towards Edgar who had wriggled himself halfway out the window.
“In that case, here you go,” she said handing Jemma the phone. “But I’ll stay until help arrives, just in case something else goes wrong.”
“Thanks. I’d really appreciate that. I’ll get my husband Paul to come out with our other car and wait here for the tow truck, while I get the kids and the dog home. Come on over and meet the gang.”
Shannon turned and spoke to Edgar, telling him to stay and wait. As Jemma slid the van door aside, a cacophony of sound erupted. Shannon didn’t think she had ever heard such a commotion. The dog, restrained by a gate from getting to greet the newcomer, was barking. A toddler, whose ear happened to be right beside the dog, was screaming, and a couple of older boys were shouting alternately at the dog and the baby to be quiet. A blissfully calm adolescent sat with earphones on, obviously tuned into her own music and not the symphony playing around her.
Shannon had very little experience with children, and the level of noise took her off guard. Laughing at her shocked expression, Jemma began introductions. Talking over the noise as if she did it all the time, she pointed in turn to each of the kids and the dog. “Meet Joey, Michael, Katy, Leanne and Boomer.
“Kids this is Shannon. She’s going to be staying in the Boathouse for a couple weeks.” For one glorious second, things were quiet as the kids paused to say hi. Then, as if realizing that he wasn’t going to be let out, the setter began barking once again.
Jemma slid the door back into place, muffling the noise, although it still escaped through the remaining open windows. The two women leaned against the van and chatted. “Don’t worry,” Jemma assured her. “The kids won’t be anywhere near the Boathouse. They know they’re not to bother the guests.”
Shannon wanted to say they wouldn’t be any bother, but truth be told, she wasn’t so sure that would be the ca
se. Instead, she nodded and fumbled for something else to say, settling for “Oh, I’m not worried.” She doubted that she sounded very convincing.
“So what made you choose the Boathouse?” Jemma asked.
“My guidebook says that it’s the most haunted property at the resort. I’m writing a book about ghosts and I really hope to meet this one.”
Jemma smiled. “Well, it has been said to scare more than a few people off. We’re always careful how we advertise it, but the people who write those guidebooks can sometimes exaggerate. In all fairness though, some of our guests do report that the “Blue Lady” visits them from time to time.”
“Have you seen her?”
Jemma shook her head. “I guess she feels no need to appear to me. But to tell you the truth, I spend very little time in any of the rental properties. As you can see I’ve got my hands full at the main house,” she said jerking a thumb in the direction of the van. “We have a cleaning and maintenance staff that looks after them. I do the reservations and bookkeeping.”
“Well I sure hope she decides to visit me. I’m so ready for an “other worldly” experience, as my Mom calls it. She claims she can talk to spirits.”
Jemma chuckled. “Be sure to report it, if it happens. We keep a guest log of all such activity.” Both women turned as a black SUV pulled in behind Shannon’s car. “There’s Paul. Thank goodness. Now I can get these hooligans home. Come say hi.”
Once introductions were made, Shannon excused herself. “I’d better hit the road and get Edgar to his next pit stop. Nice meeting you both.”
“You too, and thanks again,” Jemma replied. “See you at the resort.”
Shannon returned to the car, speaking to Edgar as she opened the door. “That was certainly an unusual way to meet our hosts for the next two weeks, wasn’t it? But they seemed like really nice people.” A sleepy Edgar opened one droopy eye as she settled back behind the wheel. “Ok Bud. I get that you’re tired of waiting. Here we go.”
