by Marilyn Turk
“Hello, Alexandra. How nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you again too, Floyd.” His clammy, weak grip made her wonder if he had a pulse.
“Mother tells me you’re not going back to your cottage. I wouldn’t either if I were you.” He lifted his eyebrows and nodded knowingly.
“I understand it needs some repair. When I go there today, I’ll make a note of what should be done.”
“You be careful over there.” He leaned over, placed his hand beside his mouth and lowered his voice. “There’s strange goings-on, I hear.”
Lexie widened her eyes. “Whatever do you mean?”
Floyd glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. “Lights seen moving around inside the house.”
Mrs. Appleton drew closer and cupped her hand over her mouth near Lexie’s ear. “People say they’ve heard things too.”
Lexie looked from the woman to her son. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. Calm down, don’t listen to them. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
Both heads nodded agreement before Floyd smirked. “They say it’s haunted.”
Chapter 3
Lexie tried to steady herself. She had to get away from these people.
“Please excuse me. I have an appointment.” She turned to go as Mrs. Appleton called out behind her.
“We’ll see you at dinner!”
Not if she could avoid it. She hurried out, resisting the urge to run. As she rounded the corner from the dining room, she ran right into Russell.
He grabbed her by the arms to keep her from falling.
“Hey! I was coming to find you.” He cocked his head with a broad smile. “What’s the hurry? Is someone after you?”
Lexie’s face warmed as she glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “Of course not. I just needed some fresh air.”
Russell threw back his head and laughed. “Then let’s go outside, shall we?” He swept his arm toward the entrance. “Ladies first.”
Lexie twirled and marched across the heart pine floors to the double doors, Russell following closely behind. He was teasing her, just as he had when she was a child. But now, she was a woman. How had he managed to make her feel like a petulant child again?
“Hey, wait up!” Russell hurried to her side in time to open the door for her.
She shot him an angry glare as she pushed through the opening. What was she doing? She stopped and waited for him outside on the veranda. He wasn’t her enemy, so why did she get so offended?
“I’m sorry, Russell. I don’t know what came over me. I guess I just felt trapped back there with the other guests.”
“No apology necessary. Is there anyone in particular that you want to get away from?” His eyebrows rose as he crossed his arms.
Lexie studied his face. How handsome he’d become. Lexie, it’s just Russell, for crying out loud! She might as well tell him. She lowered her voice.
“Mrs. Appleton. And Floyd.”
Recognition registered on Russell’s face, and his smile spread across it.
“Momma’s Boy Floyd?” He nodded. “No wonder you wanted to get away. And Momma is probably going to try to get the two of you together.”
Lexie grimaced. “She already has.”
Russell burst out laughing again. She felt a tickle creep up from her stomach to her throat until her own laughter joined his.
“Do you remember when he said he couldn’t get in the swimming pool because he might get measles?” She pictured the young Floyd shaking his head and refusing to get in the water while the rest of the children swam and played.
“Ha! I do remember that.” Russell pointed a finger. “And he wouldn’t climb trees because he might tear his britches.”
“That never stopped me.” Lexie recalled climbing alongside the boys.
“No, it didn’t. Nor did a skirt.”
“Much to my parents’ embarrassment, I’m afraid.”
“You’ve always been a swell sport, Lexie. Whatever Rob and I did, you tried to do too.”
“What do you mean—tried? I could do anything you two did and just as well!” Lexie crossed her arms.
“Probably so, even though I would never have admitted it then.”
“No, you never would say a girl could do anything as well as you!”
Russell’s warm, inviting grin made Lexie let her guard down a little. She enjoyed the comfortable rapport, and it’d been a long time since she’d felt that way. She reverted back to the days of her youth when life was fun. And this is where it took place. So why did a pall exist over her memories?
Russell’s gaze traveled across the grand lawn where the attendants were setting up for a game of lawn bowling, then returned to her.
“I do hope you’ll have time for some fun and games while you’re here. I’d enjoy the competition.”
Fun and games? It sounded so inviting. But that wasn’t her purpose for being there. This was business, serious business, and she had to act like an adult to handle it. She shook her head.
“No, I don’t think so, Russell. As I mentioned before, I’m just here to take a look at the cottage—get it ready to sell.”
A cloud passed over his features. “Yes, of course. Are you ready to see the cottage now?”
Lexie nodded but paused. “Let me run up to my room first and get my sweater.”
“Go ahead. I’ll wait for you here.” He motioned to a row of white rocking chairs on the veranda. “At least it’s much nicer than yesterday, even though it’s still chilly.”
“It’s lovely, and even better, there’s no snow here.”
“No, ma’am. Don’t think we have to worry about that. Although I believe it may have snowed here once or twice in history.”
“I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Lexie hurried inside and climbed the stairs to her second-floor room. Taking her room key from her bag, she placed it in the keyhole and grabbed the doorknob. But the door inched open from her grasp. It wasn’t locked, much less shut tight. She distinctly remembered pulling the door closed and locking it. How odd.
She glanced up at the number—214—yes, that was her room number. Then who … Someone had been in her room. It must have been the housemaid. She looked up and down the hallway for signs of the cleaning staff. Seeing no one, she shrugged. Obviously, it’d been an oversight on the maid’s part. As she pushed the door open, she scanned the room to see if anyone was there. Finding the room empty, she allowed herself to exhale.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the scone she still had hidden in her sleeve. She smiled at herself for putting it there. A carafe of water sat on the nightstand, so she poured herself a glass and sat down near a small table to eat her hasty breakfast. She closed her eyes with the first bite, savoring the citrus tang of its lemon glaze. Still as good as she remembered, even though no longer warm. She hurried to finish and not keep Russell waiting. She took another sip of water before crossing the room to the dresser to retrieve her sweater.
As she leaned over to pull out the drawer, something caught her eye. Her toiletries on top of the dresser had been moved. Her brush and comb were previously parallel to each other on the right side, her perfume and powder on the left. Now they were reversed. Of course, the maid would move them to dust, but usually they would be put back the same way they’d been found. It wasn’t that important, but perhaps she needed to speak to the head housekeeper about the negligence of the maid—leaving a room unlocked and rearranging a guest’s personal items.
She opened the drawer and gasped. Her things were scrambled, not folded as she’d left them, as if someone had rummaged through them. But why would anyone do such a thing? Were they looking for valuables?
A chill shook her. Maybe someone was still in the room, hiding. That would explain the door. She turned around and knelt down to look under the bed. Holding her breath, she lifted the bed skirt, hoping another hand wouldn’t grab hers. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she found the space empty and ope
n through to the other side. She straightened as she scanned the room for another possible hiding place. The wardrobe door beckoned. She tiptoed across the room, grabbing an ornamental vase off the dresser for a weapon. Hoisting it over her head, she jerked open the door.
But only her clothes greeted her, the dead mink on her coat the most menacing, staring at her with glass eyes. She shoved the hangers apart to make sure no one was behind them. No one there. She blew out a breath, closed the door, and leaned against it, her body shaking. Had she imagined these things? Was this how her mother had felt?
No. Someone had definitely been through her things. Perhaps a thief had been looking for valuables. Well, they must have left disappointed. She wore the only valuables she’d brought.
Russell must be told about this. She grabbed her sweater and left the room, then made sure she shut the door and locked it. As she scurried down the hallway to the top of the stairs, she heard a door close behind her. She spun around and recognized the woman from the launch, the mother of the little girl. Dressed in a housemaid’s uniform and carrying a feather duster, she appeared to have come from the end of the hall where a door led outside, probably to the servants’ stairs.
As they exchanged glances, Lexie offered a smile. The woman nodded but didn’t return the smile. In fact, she averted her eyes. Perhaps she had been the maid in Lexie’s room. Lexie decided to ask her, but as she took a step in that direction, another guest room opened beside the maid, and the voice of Mrs. Appleton rang out.
“Oh, there you are! I wondered when you’d come. My room needs some attention.”
Lexie whirled back around and headed down the stairs, hoping to once again escape the annoying Mrs. Appleton. She rushed outside to find Russell standing on the veranda engaged in an animated conversation with another man, a distinguished-looking gentleman dressed in a white V-neck tennis sweater and white slacks. As she approached, the men turned to face her and halted their conversation.
Russell held out his hand to her and beckoned.
“Alexandra Smithfield, this is Bernon Prentice, our club president.”
Mr. Prentice offered a broad grin and extended his hand. “Miss Smithfield, how nice to see you. I remember your parents.”
Lexie shook his hand, noting his lean form and tanned skin—in good shape despite his age. She pegged him to be in his fifties.
“Please call me Lexie. I remember watching you play tennis when I was a little girl.”
“That right? Your mother played, too, didn’t she? Do you?”
“I do. I played at Vassar.”
“Then perhaps you’d join me for a game sometime?”
Lexie’s stomach wrenched. She would love to play with this man, former captain of the Davis Cup team. Who would turn down such an invitation? She smiled and mustered the courage.
“I’d love to. However, I don’t know that I’ll have a chance to play.”
“No time for tennis?” Mr. Prentice cocked his head. “Of course, we have many other activities to choose from, but perhaps you could squeeze a game in.” He gave her a wink.
“Lexie’s here to check on Destiny Cottage.” Russell offered to help her with an explanation. “She plans to put it up for sale.”
Mr. Prentice rubbed his chin while his smile changed into a frown. “I see. Have you seen the place yet?”
“Not yet.”
“We’re going there now.” Russell moved to Lexie’s side, an action which felt possessive. Or protective.
“Yes, well, I’m sorry to say the old place isn’t what it used to be. Like several cottages on the island, it’s showing its years of neglect.”
“I expect to make some repairs before I put it on the market.”
“Well, that’s good. Fine, then. We’ll be seeing you later. Very nice to meet you, and that invitation to play is still open if you change your mind!”
Mr. Prentice gave a nod to the two of them, then raced down the steps and strode toward the tennis courts.
Russell took her arm and led her down the steps. “My car is right over here.” He nodded to his right.
Lexie stopped and pulled back. “Russell, do you mind if we walk? It’s a lovely day, and I’d welcome the exercise.”
“Sure, if that’s what you’d rather do, we can walk. I guess I’m used to guests who prefer to be driven around.”
“Russell, please stop treating me like a guest. For crying out loud, we played together!”
Russell laughed his easygoing laugh. “All right, I’ll try. But it’s my job to look after our guests, and it’s been a long time since we played together.” He cocked his head at her. “Hard to believe you’re that same little tomboy who tagged along after us.”
Lexie’s face warmed. “Well, I am, and I won’t have you fussing over me like some old lady.”
Russell shook his head. “Never one to embrace frivolity, were you? No matter how hard your mother and grandmother tried to dress you up in girly clothes, you ended up getting them torn or soiled.”
“They just weren’t practical for tree-climbing, that’s all.”
“Ha! I remember the time you fell out of the oak tree in your yard right into a mud puddle! I don’t know if your folks were more upset about you ruining your pretty dress or getting hurt. Thank goodness, you didn’t get hurt.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I did get a spanking for disobeying and climbing that tree in my new dress.”
As they strolled down the road, Lexie noted several gardeners working the club grounds. Russell waved and they nodded. One man though, an older man with leathered skin, scowled at them as he leaned on his rake. Lexie turned to see Russell’s reaction.
“Whatever is the matter with that man? Did the two of you have a disagreement?”
“That’s Abner Jones. It’s not me he’s got a beef with, though. It’s you.”
“Me? Why on earth would he have anything against me?”
“He was the gardener for Destiny before your family fired him.”
Lexie gulped, her stomach churning. “We didn’t mean him any harm, you know. Our accountant didn’t think we needed the additional cost for a place we didn’t use.” Not with the rising costs of Mother’s care. “Should I go apologize to him?”
Russell placed his hand on her arm, holding her back. “I don’t believe that’s necessary. You better just keep your distance. Some people hold grudges a long time.”
Lexie shook off the chill from the gardener’s gaze. “I hope he didn’t suffer any hardship.”
“Fortunately, we found him a place on our grounds crew. Don’t let it worry that pretty head of yours.” Russell gave her a wink. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the fellow smile, anyway.”
Her face flamed and she turned away, focusing on the stately Crane Cottage on their right with its formal gardens. She remembered her grandfather complaining about Mr. Crane building the massive Italianate-villa style home, the largest cottage on the island, which wasn’t in keeping with the other more “modest” homes of the compound. She noted the red tile roof, unique to the neighborhood, and admired the arches and wrought iron railings as they walked past.
Once past Crane, Lexie jolted to a stop. She stared, covering her open mouth with her gloved hand.
Instead of seeing Chichota Cottage, which used to be the next house on the street, two stone lions glared at intruders as they stood alone guarding steps that led to nothing. No grand front door and foyer greeted visitors anymore. Instead, all that remained of the Gould’s former cottage were the foundations and the palm-lined courtyard with an empty swimming pool—the only evidence the impressive home had ever existed.
“What happened to Chichota?” she asked Russell as she struggled to comprehend what she saw. Where was the grand home where she had played with Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Gould’s grandchildren?
“It had to be demolished last year.”
“But why? Where are the Goulds?”
“Their other son Frank still lives here with his fa
mily at his cottage, Villa Marianna, but his mother refused to return to Jekyll after Edwin Jr. died here in a hunting accident. Mr. Gould Senior only came to the island a few times after that, and when he died, the house fell into very poor condition. Plus, even with our patrols, vandals managed to cause more damage in the off-season. It became an eyesore and a potential fire hazard to the other homes, so it had to be torn down.”
Hunting accident? Lexie barely heard the rest of what Russell said. A shudder coursed through her body. When Father was killed in a hunting accident, her family had quit coming to the island too. Maybe it really was cursed.
“Lexie, are you all right?” Russell searched her face before a look of understanding crossed his. “Oh dear. I shouldn’t have mentioned the accident. I’m sorry, Lexie. How inconsiderate of me.”
Lexie shook her head. “No need to apologize, Russell. I’m just surprised to hear about another hunting accident. Have there been many here?”
His gaze drifted away to a place she couldn’t see. He answered in a monotone voice. “No. Only two.”
Was he there when the accident happened? When her father’s accident happened? She didn’t dare ask. She really didn’t want to know. Maybe someday she could bring herself to ask about it, but not yet. She closed that door in her mind and focused on the task at hand.
“Russell, is Destiny in as bad a shape as Chichota was?” Her steps slowed. Maybe she wasn’t ready to see her family’s old cottage yet. The shock of Chichota’s demise still reverberated through her.
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, it needs some repairs, but it’s not falling down. And like I said, the patrols try to keep an eye on it to prevent vandalism.”
“The Appletons told me it was haunted. Why would they say that?”
He chuckled. “Did they now? Some people love to spread rumors.”
“Especially Mrs. Appleton. But really, they said strange noises and lights inside the house have been seen. Have you heard about that?”
“Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.” He laughed. “But, I’m sure there’s a more reasonable explanation. After all, there is that old Indian burial mound on the property.”
Lexie jerked her head to see his expression. She recalled the hill in the yard where they’d played ‘King of the Mountain.’ “I forgot about that. But surely you don’t believe in that nonsense about Indian ghosts getting revenge, even though you and Robert tried to scare me with that old tale. But what about the noises and lights the Appletons mentioned?”
