Dangerous Inheritance

by Shirley E. Watson

  Rick said, “So, Derek, you’re leaving to go home tomorrow?”

  “My free week is ending and my cousins are already gone.” Both Lee and Cassie said they had things to do back home, accepted their $10,000 and left.”

  Derek ran a finger down his beer glass, making a pattern in the condensation.

  He stared at his dim reflection in the mirror at the back of the bar. “Well, you know what, I’m not going. I’ve got nothing really to go back to. I’d like to hang around this area for a while. My ancestors came from here so I might as well get to know it a little.”

  The bartender hid a grin at the phrase, “ancestors.” “So how does that work for your career, then? I thought you said you worked down in Texas at a bar and nightclub?”

  “Don’t think they’ll miss me. Well, maybe some ladies will miss me.” Derek smiled and Rick laughed. “It was just a temporary thing anyway. I was trying to just make enough money to stay alive. What I really wanted was to write my own music. I’ve got a couple of things at the back of my mind. Just need to work on them. And I can do that anywhere.” He stretched and yawned.

  “I’m going to have to think about how I’m going to go on from here. Might need some other players to form a band or group.”

  A girl’s voice, low and musical, said,

  “If all you need is players, you don’t have to go far. We’ve got plenty of good musicians here.”

  Rick said, “Hi, Colleen. Just got into town?”

  When she nodded, he gestured at Derek.

  This is Derek. He’s visiting us from Texas.”

  Derek twirled around on the bar stool and looked towards where the voice had come from. There had been something familiar in those husky tones. A dark haired woman had entered the room. As she came over to the bar, Derek noticed that she had blue eyes. She wasn’t conventionally pretty but she had glossy dark hair and skin that was clear and looked healthy. Her mouth turned up at the corners and she had a slight roman nose. The effect was of a distinct personality. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. He felt he had a connection to her somehow but at the same time she was unfamiliar to him. She was looking at him intently, somewhat with surprise. But he was used to women staring at him.

  Rick broke his concentration. “Colleen sings with local groups. If you’re going to be in the Irish Eyes, you’ll probably hear her.

  “Derek smiled at the girl. “Hello, nice to meet you. Have we met anywhere?” There were so many people that were hazy in his memory. The girl looked at him with a cool glance.

  “Don’t think you’ve seen my face anywhere. It’s nice to meet you, too.” She perched on a stool and accepted a beer from Rick.

  Derek turned to the bartender again. “The first thing I’ll have to do, Rick, is find a place to live where it’s not so expensive. I’ve been checking the paper and Boston rentals are too high for somebody like me. Got any ideas?”

  Rick nodded thoughtfully. “I know a man who has a house down the Cape. He might give you a winter rental. In summer it’s a lot higher, you know, it’s a big summer resort area, but people are willing to offer some great deals in Winter just to keep the house occupied, have somebody keep an eye on it in case there’s storm damage That might do you for a while anyway.”

  “Down the Cape? Where in the world is that? Don’t forget, I’m not from around here. And do they get many storms?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m talking about Cape Cod. It’s a place about an hour or so South of Boston. It’s been a summer place over the years but now people are living there all year round, retiring yuppies discovering the place. But there’s still a few summer cottages left. And you can be in Boston within the hour if you want. We do get pretty bad snowstorms here in the Boston area but it’s usually not too bad on the Cape. The climate tends to be warmer in winter there and cooler in Summer.” He pronounced it “Summah,” the accent that Rick was finally getting used to.

  “How do you know about this?” Derek finished his beer. Rick poured him another one, the golden brew foaming to the top of the glass.

  “Everybody in Boston knows the Cape. I used to work down there in summers. I got to know quite a few people from there and also from up here. I came back this way because this is a better job for me and I go to night classes too. So that’s my story, anyway. Do you want me to call this guy?”

  “Sure. What can I lose? Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

  Rick said, “No problem.” And got on the phone. After talking for a while, he handed it to Derek.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, this is Rory McCallum. You’re the fellow Rick’s been telling me about?”

  “Yes, my name’s Derek. I’ve been looking for a place to stay and Rick said you have a place you might rent out for the winter.”

  “Sure do. Why don’t you come down and take a look at it. Are you free tomorrow morning?”

  Derek said he would be there and they talked for a while longer. He hung up finally, grinning. “Thanks, Rick. I’m going down tomorrow. He said if you recommended me, it was OK. I can move in tomorrow if I want. The place is furnished for a summer cottage but there’s heat in it, he said. I’ll have it until the end of May. Don’t know what I’ll do then but I’ll worry about that later. I really appreciate it. I’ll be back to see you again when I get settled there. And it was nice to meet you,” he added to Colleen, who nodded.

  Rick looked at Derek getting ready to leave. Was he a rolling stone or not? “Don’t let me down, now. I told him you were a good guy. Do you have anything much to take with you?”

  “Only the clothes on my back, pretty much. I also brought my guitar in a case. I feel naked without it, somehow. The only thing I’m wondering is how I’m going to get there. Your friend Rory said I have to meet him in Bournemouth. I flew in so I don’t even have my car.” (Not that that would have been much of an asset, he thought.)

  Colleen said, “It’s not a problem. There’s a bus that’ll take you right there. I’ll give you directions to get to it from here.” She wrote out some instructions on a cocktail napkin and gave them to Derek. He thanked her and she said that maybe she’d run into him again some time and good luck. He left the bar, looking back at her. Her face was turned away, the dark glossy hair hiding it, and the bartender was laughing, flirting.

  Derek went back to the hotel, where he packed his few belongings. Then, out again and over to a Filene’s, where he bought an inexpensive warm jacket, a sweater and a couple of pairs of jeans. It was getting cool and they said it would get really cold later on. Might as well get the shopping done now. Who knew what there was available where he was going? He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked presentable enough to rent a cottage, he thought. His mother had always said he cleaned up nice.

  The next day, he checked out of his hotel, descended into the subway system after consulting his notes on the cocktail napkin, and emerged at the terminal to catch the bus to Cape Cod. As he rode along, he looked out the window, amazed at the amount of traffic in the city. He wondered how anyone got anywhere on time as they inched along. The city was surrounded by water so space was limited. He liked its energy, though. Some of the drivers seemed crazed, cutting in and out of traffic uselessly but many were young with the optimism of their age. They’d need it if they thought they were actually getting anywhere! Once clear of the city limits, traffic thinned out and the bus picked up speed on the highway. Derek fell into a doze. He woke as the bus crossed a high arched bridge and he looked down at a river or body of water of some kind. Boats were traveling up and down it so it must go somewhere. In fact, one of the boats seemed to be a pretty large commercial vessel. This must mean they were near the sea and his destination. Then the bus went on for a while on a two lane highway, passing the usual gas stations and convenience stores. Then he couldn’t see anything much but trees lining the roadway. Finally the bus slowed down as it reached a traffic light and started to pass a business district. He’d asked the driver where he would get o
ff and the driver said he was going to stop briefly in the town of Bournemouth, then go on. So Derek went to the front of the bus and asked if this was his stop. When the driver said yes, he remained there with his guitar and backpack and swung down into the street when they turned a corner and pulled in. He was glad of the jacket he’d bought and was wearing. It was cool and the air had a tang to it that made him draw in lungfuls of it, expelling the stuffy air of the closed in bus.

  The bus took off again as soon as two passengers got on and he looked around. He was on the streets of a small town that looked like any suburban town only it seemed a little cleaner and had wide sidewalks. The street was lined with small stores and there were planters along the sidewalk that were filled with Fall flowers. It was well kept and the few people walking along the street and going in and out of shops looked friendly. There was a small square up ahead and that must be the place where Rory had said he’d be. When he got there, he checked his watch. He was a little late but he hoped the man wouldn’t have left. There was a gray car with the motor running parked in the square. As Derek got closer, the driver turned it off and got out. He walked over to Derek.

  “You Derek Dougall?”

  The man was tall, around six feet, with curly black hair. He stuck out a hand, his black eyes crinkling in a smile, when Derek nodded. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Derek noticed he was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans and his handshake was strong.

  “Sorry the bus was a little late. I’m pretty happy you had a place available right now. I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

  “All right, let’s go then. We’ll just walk. It’s right down this street here.” They turned the corner and went down a tree lined street. Rory pointed down the street. “That’s the sea down that way.”

  Derek could see a bright shimmer about a mile away, framed by the tall trees. Rory turned another corner and stopped at the third house in.

  “Well, here we are, then. This is my property.”

  Rory opened a gate in a white picket fence and walked to the door of the tiny grey-shingled house. With a key, he opened the yellow-painted door and ushered Derek inside. Derek looked around. There was a small pine paneled living room with a brick fireplace. A couch and a couple of chairs sat near it. Rory pointed at the fireplace. “It works. And it’s a Heatilator, throws some heat back into the room. I left some wood for you near the back door. If you need more, you’ll have to buy it. Check at the gas station. They usually have some. There’s a propane heater when it gets colder. The propane company will check it for you. Give them a call so they know who to bill. It’s your responsibility. That also fuels your stove and water heater.” They walked into a kitchen with a small dining table and Rory went on to show him the two bedrooms and bath off a small hallway.

  There’s also a bedroom upstairs with a small bath. Usually that’s where people will put their visitors if they have any. If you don’t need it just keep the door closed at the bottom of the stairs. That will save on your heat bill.”

  “So, that’s it. There’s a grocery store nearby. You could probably walk to most things here but if you want to see around, and go out of town, you’d need a car. The gas station in the next block rents cars out and I think there’s a bus to the main town, Nemasket, where there’s a big shopping mall, but I’ve never used the bus.” He looked at Derek. “So, are you here temporarily or are you going to be staying? I have regular summer renters so I can’t accommodate you then in this particular house, as I said on the phone.”

  Derek didn’t want to get into the whole story. It was too weird.

  “I came up from Texas because I had some business in Boston. My Mom used to live up this way, though. I thought I’d just look around a little and see what the place is like. I’m a musician by trade, so maybe I can pick up some work.” He added, “I have enough to pay for the house, though, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up my mind later if I want to stay.”

  Rory grinned. “I never worry, friend. I just deal with it. I have another place I might rent you if you decide to stay longer but in summer, the price goes up. We’ll worry about that later. So, I guess we have a deal?”

  Derek looked around. He wasn’t ready to make any long term commitments but for now, he liked the feeling of this quaint old-fashioned place. “I really like it. It’s in my budget and I certainly appreciate it.”

  “I’m just glad to get somebody who’s not going to wreck my house. You aren’t, are you?” He gave a ferocious look at Derek, who thought he wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of this guy. He looked as though he’d played football, the muscles evident under his shirt. Derek was foolish sometimes, but not stupid.

  “If you need anything, call me. I’ve got a handyman I use, Bill, who lives nearby. Look on the refrigerator. There’s a magnet he handed out once. That’s still his phone number. I don’t think you’ll need him, though. Everything’s in good shape.” He paused. “I think that’s all. But listen, if there’s any problem, call me. I’d rather know, whatever it is. I don’t like surprises.” He gave Derek a look that said, “Don’t mess with me.” Then he smiled and asked, “Right, buddy?” He slapped Derek’s shoulder with a massive hand. Derek sat down at the maple table, wrote out a check and gave it to him. “Thanks again.”

  He felt powerful at being able to do it. Usually he was a cash and carry guy.

  Rory left and Derek walked around the house getting acquainted with it. It did seem to be in good shape. He felt lucky. Even if this was out in the middle of nowhere, it was cozy and not too far from the city of Boston. It was way better than anything he had lived in lately. Now all he had to do was start thinking about this contest. Even if it was just a contest against himself. It was dumb, but somehow he seemed to have decided that if there was more money to be had, he might as well get it. It really didn’t sound too hard. It would buy him some time. What could go wrong?

  CHAPTER 7

  Back working at the library again, Cassie couldn’t believe that what had happened last week was real. It had all happened too fast, it seemed. Her normal life was here, with the patrons she knew, her boss, her roommate. What was she thinking by rushing off to Boston and entering some kind of contest? It gave her the chills just thinking that maybe it was all some kind of terrible joke. It just wasn’t the kind of thing she did. Women whose pictures were shown on television, with desperate relatives begging for someone to find them, were the kind who got into odd situations. But surely it was nothing like that?

  It seemed as though it was another person, not herself, that had begun to dream of things she hadn’t let herself think about any more. Her focus in life had been work and making sure that Dad was OK. What was she thinking promising to achieve great things within a year? Not her, not Cassie. Cassie never got those kinds of breaks. Well, now, she thought, I’m really not a self-pitying kind of person. So why am I moaning and groaning about it? When did I get like this?

  “Are you going to take it?” an irritated voice broke into her thoughts.

  “Take it? I think I will.” She said to the irate customer in front of her and then apologized. “Oh, sorry, I was thinking of something else.” The hard-faced middle-aged woman was shoving a pile of books at her while trying to hold onto a squirming toddler. She said, hoping to mollify her, “Your granddaughter is beautiful.”

  The woman’s face darkened further. “My daughter,” she snapped.

  Cassie checked out the books while apologizing but the woman strode away dragging the whining child. She turned to see her supervisor, the librarian, frowning at her.

  “Are you sure you don’t need to take another day off, Cassie? You seem distracted.”

  “Oh, no, I’m fine. I’m sorry. Just thinking about some things.”

  “Well, please try to keep your mind on the job. Our customers are important. No matter what we are thinking, we mustn’t let them get the idea we don’t appreciate them.” She pointed to a large poster opposite the desk, which said, “Your l
ibrary welcomes you. We’re here to serve. Just ask!”

  Here to serve, that’s me, thought Cassie and lifted a large pile of books to a cart. Now where did that come from, she wondered. I love it here, don’t I?

  Finally, the day was over and Cassie was on her way to her father’s house. She dreaded the arrival but looked forward to seeing him again. She unlocked the door and went in, calling out, “Hi, Dad, it’s me, Cassie!”

  There was no answer and she walked into the living room. He was sound asleep in a chair, a book fallen from his lap. She took an afghan and went to tuck it over his knees but he woke up, a startled look on his face.

  “Who?” Then his face cleared and he smiled. “Cassie! You’re here already. What time is it?”

  “The time I usually get here, Dad. It’s six o’clock. Can I get you anything?”

  He declined and got up to follow her into the kitchen. She began taking out the ingredients for a quick dinner and he sat down at the kitchen table. “I’d like a smoke. Do you know where I put my cigarettes?”

  “Dad! You gave up smoking twenty years ago.”

  A confused look passed over his face. “Oh, of course, that’s foolish of me. Guess I still have the urge.” He gave an embarrassed laugh.

  Cassie put chopped meat in a bowl and mixed it with breadcrumbs and an egg. She sprinkled spices in it and formed it into a meatloaf.

  “So, what did you do today?”

  Not much, Cassie. “I took out the old photo albums like you suggested and had a good look through them. Your mother was so beautiful.”

  Cassie said, “Yes, Mom was a beautiful person.” She was glad he hadn’t asked where she was. At least that showed he still remembered she was dead. She hoped.