by Jan Fields
“We should probably check into our rooms before we do anything else,” Ian said, interrupting Annie’s thoughts.
“OK,” Annie said. “Why?”
“Well, Alice said they had trouble getting anyone to rent them a room, right?” Ian darted the look toward Annie, before putting his attention back on the road. “It seems wise to get settled before we start annoying people.”
Annie smiled faintly. “That’s probably wise since I plan to be fairly annoying.”
Ian laughed. “I would gallantly say that is unlikely, but you certainly can be stubborn when you’re after something.”
Annie crossed her arms. “Tenacious.”
“Right, that’s the word I meant.”
Annie, who moved to the front seat when Ian was driving, looked out the wide expanse of windshield. That was one of the perks of riding in Mary Beth’s SUV—it felt like you could see the whole world. The highways were busier than Annie had expected for so late in the year, and she was glad she wasn’t driving.
“Will it still be light when we get to Preacher’s Reach?” Stella asked.
“Should be,” Ian answered. “We got an early start today.”
“I hope you’re still planning to let us out of this thing for lunch,” the matriarch of the group said. “I’m all for getting there, but if we’re so stiff we can’t move, it’ll be hard to pull off a daring rescue once we find Alice and her friend.”
Annie smiled as she imagined Stella pulling off a daring rescue any time. Although intimidating in her own way, she wasn’t exactly athletic. Then she wrung her hands in worry. Other than Ian, were any of them really capable of daring rescues?
She felt Ian’s warm hand on her arm. “It’s going to be OK,” he said.
“You can’t know that,” she said.
“I can feel it,” Ian told her, “and I believe it.”
I wish I could, Annie thought, but she gave Ian’s hand a pat and nodded. The she turned her head slightly away from him, as if engrossed in something in the landscape that flashed by.
Ian navigated the busy traffic well, and they were all grateful not to get caught in any real traffic jams. The highway was busy but moving, and they made such good time that even stopping for lunch didn’t change Ian’s optimistic hopes of reaching their destination before dark.
As the hours passed, they moved deeper and deeper into the South. Annie began to recognize patches of kudzu, the amazing plant that seemed intent on burying the entire South in green. At one spot, she saw a power pole that had been cleared of kudzu at the base, but a clump still clung to the top of the pole as if it had climbed up there and now crouched on the crossbeam, looking down on the passing traffic. Soon after they left Virginia, they passed a stand of trees completely covered by kudzu as if someone had thrown a thick green blanket over the landscape.
“What is that plant?” Stella asked.
“Kudzu.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that,” Mary Beth said. “I’m surprised they let it get so out of hand.”
“I understand it takes a lot of work to keep it under control,” Annie said. “And on roadsides, they don’t always put in the time and money.”
“Do you suppose we’ll see any of that on the island?” Mary Beth asked.
“I saw a lot of thick growth in the satellite photos,” Annie said. “But with it being an island and isolated, I think it’s likely to have more native growth.”
As she spoke, she saw Ian’s facial expression change, as if he’d had a disturbing thought. Annie leaned slightly closer to him and said, “You look upset.”
He forced a smile. “I just had a thought about plants.”
“Oh?”
“Well, Fuller’s Island is remote,” he said. “I just wondered if that might be what Alice and Jim stumbled into.”
“What?” Annie asked, completely confused.
“A grow site,” Ian said, glancing at her. “What if someone is using the island’s overgrowth to hide an illegal marijuana grow site? They certainly would be upset if Alice and Jim walked in on it. And they might keep dogs to chase people away.”
Annie’s eyes grew wide. “Drugs? You think it might be drugs?” She sat back as fresh fear washed over her. Who knew what could have happened if her friends walked in on drug growers?
“It was just a thought,” Ian said. “Look, I’m probably way off track. After all, the police sent someone out to look for Alice and Jim on the island. Surely a search would have turned up fields of marijuana plants if they were there.”
“Oh, right,” Annie said, her voice breathy with relief. “Of course they would.”
“I hear whispering up there,” Mary Beth said. “Want to share with the class?”
“Ian had a thought about Fuller’s Island being used as a marijuana growing site,” Annie said. “But the police would have seen that when they looked for Alice and Jim.”
“Unless the police are in on it,” Stella said.
“Don’t you think that’s just a little paranoid?” Mary Beth asked.
Stella shrugged. “I’ve seen movies.”
“I’ve seen movies with aliens and talking dogs too,” Mary Beth said. “But I don’t think they’re involved here.”
Stella made a harrumph sound but offered no more comment.
“The island could be involved in smuggling,” Mary Beth said. “Even Stony Point has had its history with smugglers.”
“I had considered that,” Ian said. “And Chief Edwards specifically asked about smuggling. He said he may have offended the police chief in Preacher’s Reach, but they were adamant that they do not have a smuggling problem.”
“I’d imagine smugglers try to keep their activities quite secret from the police,” Stella said.
“Apparently the island is fairly hard to reach from the ocean side because of some dangerous rocks,” Ian said. “And planes would be spotted—the island isn’t that far from shore. I don’t think it would be ideal for smuggling.”
Annie was glad smuggling was unlikely. The thought of Alice and Jim tangling with dangerous criminals made her stomach hurt. Still, clearly something had happened to them.
After that, they fell again to thinking their own thoughts as they hurried down the coast. It was early afternoon when they finally crossed the border into South Carolina, and soon they left the interstate and began following the GPS directions to find the small coastal town.
“This is definitely not one of the more touristy areas,” Mary Beth said as they passed houses and small businesses that looked tired and well-battered by weather and years. The buildings were small with pale siding and metal roofs.
“I suspect it’s too swampy,” Ian said.
One squat building that looked like it was both home and business had a hand-lettered sign near the road offering “boiled peanuts.”
“Oh, that sounds disgusting,” Mary Beth said.
“I’ve never had them,” Annie admitted, “but Wayne liked them. He tried them first on a trip to the Southeast, and then he found some online source to get them shipped to him. I never could get myself to taste them, though he always tried to coax me into it. It just doesn’t sound very appealing.”
The narrow state roads forced them to drive more slowly, though the roads weren’t busy. Here and there, huge tree limbs dripping with Spanish moss reached toward the road. The appearance of well-tended gas stations and convenience stores suggested they were getting close to the town.
More and more small shops appeared; many had the short palmetto trees planted nearby in groups of two or three. They passed the magistrate’s office, one of the few brick buildings. The volunteer fire department was attached, its tall garage doors closed.
“I’m beginning to think of Stony Point as shockingly urban,” Mary Beth said.
Not far down the road, they came to a cinder-block building that housed The Preacher’s Reach News office. The concrete platform and capped pipes out front that showed the newspaper office had once been a
gas station. Behind the news office, another small block building wore a sign for the historical society.
After that, most of the buildings were homes, though bigger and better kept than the ones they’d passed earlier. Annie glanced down at the GPS and saw they were nearly at the B&B where they had reservations. It was called The Preacher’s Rest.
“We turn right just ahead,” Annie said.
“OK.” Ian scanned the road for the turn. The road itself was unmarked.
Finally, they spotted the inn. It was a two-story, white building with a porch that covered the front of the house and swept around to one side. The white wicker chairs on the porch reminded Annie of Grey Gables. A half-round drive paved with brick connected with the road on each end. The front porch steps led directly to the highest point in the curve. Off to the side of the old house, Annie saw a small parking lot. It only held one car. Huge old, twisted trees stood near the house, dripping with moss and giving the place an ancient look. Behind the house, more trees hung over a few small outbuildings, and beyond that lay an overgrown field.
“Looks nice,” Mary Beth said.
Ian pulled carefully into the small parking lot, and everyone climbed out. Annie looked at the house as she stretched. She saw Stella was limping a bit from the stiffness of the long ride and hoped the inn had plenty of hot water. She suspected they would all benefit from a hot soak.
Ian began handing out luggage from the back of the SUV, carrying his own and one of Stella’s bags. Annie slipped the long handles of her small bags over her shoulder and started toward the inn, pulling her wheeled suitcase behind her.
A tiny woman with snow-white hair, pulled back and braided into a long plait, stepped out on the porch to welcome them. “Welcome to the Preacher’s Rest. Are you the Dawson party? I hope you found us without too much difficulty,” she said.
“We did,” Ian answered. “GPS is one of the greatest inventions of the modern world.”
“It’s good,” the woman agreed. “But it takes the fun out of getting good and lost. You miss out on so many surprises.”
“After all that driving,” Stella said, “I don’t think I have the energy for many surprises.”
“Well, I have your rooms for you,” she told them. “You’ll have the whole second floor to yourselves. We only have two downstairs rooms and only one of them is taken, so it should be nice and quiet for sleeping.”
“That will be lovely,” Stella said.
The lobby of the inn was small but sparkling clean and bright. A pleasant breeze came from each window. “We have air conditioning,” the innkeeper said. “But we don’t use it this time of year. There’s always a breeze, but it won’t really turn cold enough to close the windows for another month or so.”
“This is a lovely place,” Mary Beth said.
The woman’s smile widened. “Thank you. It was built in the 1920s and has been in my family ever since, though it didn’t become an inn until my husband and I remodeled. I’m Suzanne Ayers.”
Everyone murmured greetings as Mrs. Ayers opened the guest registry for them to sign in. “We serve a brunch in the dining room each morning. On Sundays it’s actually very popular with our neighbors, so you’ll find the room quite busy then. But we’ll hold a table just for your group.”
“Thank you,” Annie said.
Mrs. Ayers took Stella’s bag from her and looked at Stella with some concern. “Do you think the stairs will be a problem for you?” she asked. “I could give you the empty downstairs room.”
“I’m just a bit stiff from the drive,” Stella answered regally. “I can climb stairs quite well.”
Annie was delighted with her well-lit room. The carved cherry four-poster bed was covered with a lovely handmade quilt in shades of sage and terra-cotta. The walls of the room were painted in a matching sage. Carved cherry tables on either side of the bed held porcelain lamps with delicately tinted cherubs that made Annie smile. She wouldn’t have wanted one of the lamps, but somehow, they suited the room.
The windows had simple mini blinds for their only window treatment, but the shades were up, and the windows open, bathing the room in soft light and sweet fresh air. Annie stood in the middle of the room and spun slowly. The room didn’t really look much like what she’d seen behind Alice in the video chats, but something about it was the same.
She looked over the room again and realized it was the lack of window treatments. The room Alice had stayed in didn’t have curtains either. Annie was sure of it. This wasn’t Alice’s room, but it might have been Alice’s inn.
Annie stepped out of her room and knocked on the next door. Mary Beth opened the door. “Yes?”
“Do your windows have curtains?” she asked.
“No,” Mary Beth said in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“I think this might be the inn where Alice and Jim stayed,” Annie said. “Can I see your room?”
Mary Beth nodded, stepping back to make room for Annie to walk in. The room was also charming though a bit smaller than Annie’s. The walls were painted a lovely shade of cranberry. The bed was white with a snowy white coverlet. The white side table held a more modern-looking, black-and-white lamp that went well with the crisp lines of the bed.
Annie sighed. It was not the room she’d seen in Alice’s chat.
“Let’s check with the others,” Mary Beth suggested.
Stella’s room was about the size of Annie’s with a white four-poster bed and a cream and rose quilt. The walls were a rosy taupe. It also had a white side table with a white porcelain lamp and Victorian shade.
“Not this one either,” Annie said, beginning to wonder if she’d imagined the similarity between the windows of the rooms and the windows in Alice’s video chat.
“There’s still Ian’s room,” Mary Beth said.
Ian looked surprised at finding the three women standing in the hall outside his room. “Is there a problem?”
“Annie thinks this might be the inn that Alice and Jim stayed in,” Mary Beth said.
“We need to check your room,” Stella added.
Ian smiled and stepped back to let the group in. His room was the largest of the four, though only slightly. A huge four-poster cherry bed took up much of the space, with its matching highboy dresser. The windows of the room were taller than in the other three rooms and faced west.
Annie slumped slightly. “Not this room either. I guess I was wrong.”
“Maybe not,” Ian said. “Mrs. Ayers said there were two rooms downstairs. With Jim’s limp and cane, I’m sure she offered one or both to Jim and Alice, just as she offered one to Stella.”
“Now how are we going to get inside to see those downstairs rooms?” Mary Beth asked.
“Well, we could get one of them easily enough,” Ian answered. “Stella just needs to decide the stairs are too much for her after all.”
Stella made a face but agreed. “I suppose I can be frail for the cause.”
They trooped downstairs. Ian carried both of Stella’s bags. Mrs. Ayers was no longer in the front foyer, so Ian set the bags down beside the front desk as they split up to go looking for the woman.
Annie opened a pair of double French doors and found herself facing a bright dining room, but the innkeeper was not inside. She turned and walked down a short hall where a door stood partly open. Annie knocked gently as she pushed the door open further. Mrs. Ayers was pulling a crisp white pillowcase on one of the long bed pillows. She looked up and smiled at Annie. “Can I help you?”
“Stella found the stairs a bit more trying that she expected,” Annie said, smiling back. “She tries so hard to be independent. Can she still switch to a downstairs room?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Ayers said. “I’ll meet you all at the front desk. I’m almost done here if you don’t mind my finishing up.”
“No, of course not,” Annie said. “The rooms here are lovely.”
“Thank you.” Again the woman’s smile warmed still more at the compliment.
Annie’s eyes swept the room carefully before backing out. Like her room, it had cherry furniture. Like Ian’s room, the windows were very tall. And like every room she’d seen so far, it was definitely not the room from Alice’s chat.
“One more chance,” Annie murmured to herself as she headed for the front desk. She found the others already grouped there.
“We couldn’t find her,” Ian said.
“I did,” Annie told them. “She was cleaning the room that’s in use. It wasn’t the right room.”
“Well, only one room left,” Mary Beth said.
Mrs. Ayers soon joined them and quickly led them to Stella’s new room. The room was painted a light yellow. The furniture was white with the big bed dominating the room. The headboard and footboard were beadboard panels and the quilt was in soft shades of lavender, green and yellow.
Annie gasped as they walked in. This had been Alice’s room.
9
On one trip to the mainland, my mother stopped at a small dress shop to have a bit of lace repaired on her best traveling gloves. The shop smelled of dried roses as if the funeral flowers that filled the Fuller mansion had followed us with their ghostly scent. I found it boring as only a small boy could be bored—with every particle of my being. Eventually my mother grew annoyed enough by my fretsome behavior that she sent me out to play on the sidewalk in front of the shop to maintain her own sanity.
—Steven Fuller, 1925
After Mrs. Ayers left them alone in the room, Annie told the others about the room.
“You’re sure?” Mary Beth asked.
Annie nodded. “Now that I see it again, it’s very clear in my head. I remember seeing the beadboard panels behind Alice and the picture on the wall with the dog. I especially remember the dog because the whole reason for coming to South Carolina was because of ghost dogs.
“Are you sure Chief Edwards spoke to the innkeeper here?” Stella asked Ian.
“I don’t know why he would miss this inn,” Ian said. “Annie found it easily enough to make the reservations.”
