Crashing Waves

by L A Morgan

  They would meet again tomorrow. Now, Laurel began to doubt herself and her abilities. She had willingly taken on the task of helping this man to overcome his troubles, at least for the time that they would be together. Would she really be able to help him or would she needlessly expend her vacation on a lost cause? What did she actually know about Michael North?

  He said that he worked for a Connecticut insurance company, but what did that say about him as a man? He was thirty-four, older than anyone else she had dated, but did this matter? She would have to find out. Michael suffered from something. What could it possibly be? What would be so devastating that he would cut himself off from life for four years? He wore a wedding ring, but he claimed that he lived alone. Should she believe this? He was a deep man and it would take a while to explore those depths. Should she bother to do it?

  Laurel pictured the smile on his face and answered her last question. Yes, she would do it, and the results would be left up to that same Fate that she had professed a belief in earlier that evening.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Another beautiful dawn broke over the Atlantic Ocean. Laurel rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes and peeked out from behind her drapes. She was tempted to take more pictures, but a glance at her bedside clock told her she had barely enough time to get ready for her walk on the beach with Michael.

  Ah yes, Michael, she considered. The man was definitely attractive and intelligent, but there was such a wealth of sadness underlying his character. It laid like a veil over his personality.

  Michael had rarely smiled, and when he did, his brows knit together in an expression of sweet sorrow. Laurel’s heart reached out to this stranger in pity, and she felt a need to comfort him, to bring him genuine joy. He was a nice man and he deserved more than life was obviously providing for him. She longed to know the reason for his grief, but she did not have the heart to pursue the issue. Such reminiscences might ruin his vacation, and this was the last thing she wanted to do. It had been years since he had taken a break from his work. He needed more than a break.

  Laurel decided that the best way Michael could profit from his vacation would be to fill it with such extraordinarily happy experiences that the sadness of the past would be lightened by comparison. Since she had come here alone, Laurel suddenly realized she was delighted by the thought of having a companion. It made sense that she should do all she could to brighten Michael’s existence.

  After she showered and dressed, she could not restrain her impatient impulse to go next-door and knock on Michael’s door. He answered immediately. His appearance proved that he was ready for their walk along the beach.

  “I can see that you are a morning person,” Michael said with a smile.

  “How could I resist such a glorious dawn?” Laurel responded cheerily.

  “Then, let’s go.’”

  The couple decided to walk to their left, leading them in a northerly direction. Since they were staying north of the central area of town, they did not encounter many people on their early morning stroll. The sun had risen above the horizon to fill the sky with its brilliant hues. The air was clean and salt-scented. A dozen pelicans flew in a V-pattern along the lapping waves on the shoreline.

  Laurel walked beside Michael, glancing at him occasionally. His plaid, cotton shirt and black jeans accentuated his strong, lean build. When he turned to give her a smile, she noticed that his eyes were a mixture of blue, gray, and gold.

  “It certainly is a lovely morning,” Laurel commented.

  “Yes, it is,” the man replied, looking out over the ocean.

  They continued to walk at a moderate pace for twenty minutes. The hotels and condominiums gave way to a wealthy, residential neighborhood. As they ambled along, the couple observed the large, interestingly constructed homes, situated close to the water’s edge.

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live in one of these houses?” Laurel asked dreamily.

  “I wouldn’t care to,” Michael seriously replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one, you would have very little privacy living here since the property lines border on a public beach. If I lived on the water, I’d prefer the beach to be private. Also, I find these houses uncomfortably close to the water’s edge. In the event of a hurricane or any large storm, there would be a good chance that the sea would rise and come into the house. I would never take that risk.”

  “That’s the insurance agent in you, Michael! I bet you leave very few things in your life to chance.”

  “I certainly don’t rely on it.”

  During this conversation, the couple had stopped walking and now stood before a stately mansion which was half concealed by shrubbery. As they spoke, Laurel’s gaze continually shifted to this house. A stealthy movement caught her eye.

  “Look at that!” she softly exclaimed, pointing toward a back window.

  A person dressed all in black was easing himself out of the window and onto the ground below.

  “I don’t like the looks of that,” said Michael.

  “Do you think it might be a burglar?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I should ask him. You wait here.”

  “No way! I’m going with you.”

  Michael had already started to walk toward the house. The figure in black took a quick look around and then walked rapidly toward the shrubbery. He was still some thirty feet away.

  “Hey! You there!” Michael called out as he quickened his pace.

  The suspicious person gave him a startled glance and then broke into a run. By the time Michael and Laurel arrived at the spot where he had been standing, the figure in black had disappeared into a tangle of scrub growth and vines that formed a miniature forest.

  “You’re not going into that!” Laurel declared.

  “I had no intention of doing that,” Michael replied. “If that person was a burglar, he might be armed.”

  “What should we do?”

  Michael looked up at the house and said, “I’d better knock at the door to see if anyone’s home.”

  As they walked up to the house, they saw that the window from which the dark figure had exited was still open. No sound or movement was discernible from within the room.

  Michael knocked loudly at the back door, but it was several minutes before he got a response. A groggy-looking, older woman in nightclothes finally appeared. She opened the door a crack and squinted at the couple.

  “What do you want?” demanded the woman, clenching the front of her bathrobe.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you so early,” Michael apologized. “My friend and I were just walking on the beach, and we saw a suspicious-looking person climb out of your window over there.”

  As he said this, he gestured toward the open window.

  “Someone came out of my house?” the woman asked in disbelief. “That’s impossible! My husband is away on a business trip and I’m here alone.”

  She still appeared disoriented from sleep.

  “Someone did slip out of your window,” Laurel spoke for the first time.

  “It’s still open,” Michael added.

  The woman’s face turned ghastly pale as understanding dawned. She pushed open the door and quickly stepped outside. Seeing the open window, she let out a small scream before clasping a hand over her mouth. Laurel put her arm around the woman’s shaking shoulders in a gesture of comfort.

  After a few seconds, the woman sobbed, “Oh, my God! I didn’t leave that window open. I always lock up securely when my husband’s away. I was in there all alone, sleeping. I could have been murdered in my bed!”

  “It’s all right now,” Michael stated reassuringly. “We’re here now and we won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Laurel hugged her a little tighter and whispered, “Everything’s okay.”

  As the woman calmed down a bit, full reality took hold.

  “That’s my family room!” she exclaimed. “I keep all of my jewelry in a safe in there!”

  Tak
ing control with a cool head, Michael said, “We should call the police. While we talk, the person that was in there is getting away.”

  “I’m afraid to go back inside the house,” sobbed the woman.

  “He might have had an accomplice who is still inside,” Laurel added thoughtfully.

  “Should we all go inside and check or would you prefer to go to a neighbor’s?” Michael asked.

  “I would rather go to the Applegates’ house next door,” the woman said firmly.

  “We’ll go with you,” Michael affirmed. “The police will undoubtedly want our description of the intruder.”

  Laurel walked with her arm around the shaken woman as the three of them made their way to the front door of the adjacent house. It was a little after seven o’clock, but the Applegates must have been early risers. The middle-aged couple answered the door together, fully dressed.

  “Good heavens, Eatha!” Mrs. Applegate exclaimed upon seeing her friend in her bathrobe and in such a nervous state.

  “What happened?” demanded Mr. Applegate.

  “Oh, Jennifer! I’ve been robbed!” cried Eatha. “This young couple saw a man coming out of one of my windows and woke me up to tell me about it!”

  “You poor dear! Come right inside,” Mrs. Applegate insisted.

  “Someone should call the police,” said Michael.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Mr. Applegate stated firmly.

  They were all sitting in the Applegates’ living room with cups of coffee when the police arrived. After listening to everyone’s story, the officer in charge lead his men next door to make a thorough search of the house. Eatha, the homeowner, had recovered sufficiently to join them. Laurel and Michael waited outside in her backyard.

  Several minutes after the search had been initiated, they heard a muffled shriek coming from the direction of the family room’s open window. Inside, they could hear Eatha pitifully lamenting the loss of her jewels.

  “So the burglar did get into her safe!” Laurel declared.

  “I was hoping that nothing had been taken,” Michael reflected soberly.

  “That poor woman! It must be so terrible to be alone at a time like this!”

  “It’s always terrible to be alone,” Michael softly agreed, but Laurel did not hear him through the tumult of her own thoughts.

  “Isn’t it incredible that we were right here to see him make his getaway?” she exclaimed. “There wasn’t another soul near us!”

  “Are you sure it was a him?”

  “You thought it was a woman?”

  “I didn’t say that. It’s just that I’m not sure if it was a man.”

  Laurel looked at him thoughtfully.

  “You’re absolutely right,” she said. “Whoever it was, he or she was slender and slightly built. It could have been either sex. It’s funny the way you always assume that a burglar will be a man.”

  “I guess that men are known for their foul deeds,” Michael replied with a half-smile.

  “I didn’t mean it like that!” Laurel reassured him.

  The man regarded her with a forlorn expression.

  He said, “My idea of taking an early morning walk on the beach wasn’t such a good one after all, was it?”

  “Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing I’ve been involved in since I can remember! I wouldn’t have missed this for anything!”

  “Really, Laurel?”

  “Absolutely! A little excitement is good for you! I was afraid that I wouldn’t have anything to tell the gals back home. I’m only sorry that this had to happen at Eatha’s expense.”

  “That does put a damper on enthusiasm,” Michael agreed.

  At this point, the police sergeant stepped outside to ask them both a few more questions.

  “Could you give me a better description of the intruder?” he asked.

  Michael answered, “He or she was--”

  “Wait a minute!” the officer interrupted him. “You don’t know if it was a man or a woman? I thought you said it was a man.”

  “We referred to the burglar as a man for general purposes,” Michael explained. “We were at least thirty feet away when whoever it was disappeared into the bushes.”

  Another officer came out of the house and joined them as they were walking to the place where the culprit was last seen.

  “Which way did he go?” asked the sergeant.

  “To the right,” Michael answered, pointing in the appropriate direction. “He was heading toward the street.”

  “See if you can trace his path, Joe,” directed the sergeant. “Mr. North, I’d like you to give me that description again.”

  “He or she looked to be about five foot nine with a slim build. He was dressed all in black except for his sneakers.”

  “What kind of clothes was the intruder wearing?”

  “Jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He wore a woolen hat that was pulled down low on his face. We were too far away for me to make out any facial features, but I’d guess that he didn’t have a mustache or beard. Also, he was wearing black gloves.”

  “What about you, Miss? Did you notice anything else?”

  “Not really, sergeant. It all happened so fast. I wish we could tell you more.”

  “Would either of you be able to recognize this person in a line-up?”

  Both agreed that they could not.

  “Okay. You said that you’re both are staying at The Oasis?”

  “Yes.”

  “We may have to contact you again for further questioning.”

  “I’m willing to help out any way I can,” Michael stated.

  “That goes for me, too,” added Laurel.

  “Good. Thanks for your help. Mrs. Grant would like to see you before you go.”

  “Eatha?”

  “Yes. Her name is Eatha Grant.”

  “Should we go inside or wait here?” asked Michael.

  “My men are busy inside. I’ll go and get her,” concluded the sergeant.

  A few minutes later, Eatha Grant joined them outside. She was still very pale, but she seemed much more in control now.

  “I just called my husband in Houston to tell him what happened,” she said. “He’s very upset, but he asked me to extend his appreciation to you for what you’ve done. These days, people are so afraid to get involved in anything. It’s been a pleasure and a comfort to meet the two of you.”

  “We’re very sorry about the loss of your jewelry,” Laurel said consolingly.

  “It was all insured, thank heavens,” Eatha stated with a grim nod. “If I manage to get it back because of the description you gave to the police, I intend to give both of you a nice reward. Some of those pieces were family heirlooms!”

  “I’m so sorry,” Laurel sympathetically replied.

  “No reward will be necessary for me except to learn that your jewelry has been returned,” Michael assured her.

  “You’re such nice young people! I wish you both the best!”

  With a sigh, Eatha Grant returned to her house, hoping that the police would find some clue to the identification of the burglar.

  Looking at the retreating woman, Laurel said, “I wish we could find a way to help her.”

  “There isn’t much chance of that.”

  “You never know, Michael. We could spot the burglar walking on the beach.”

  “That’s rather unlikely unless he’s foolish enough to wear the same outfit he had on this morning. Even then, I wouldn’t be able to make a positive identification. Would you?”

  “I suppose not, but it was a happy thought.”

  “Well, Laurel. Has all of this excitement robbed you of your appetite or are you ready to go out for breakfast now?”

  “Once you get to know me, Michael, you’ll understand that I’m always ready to eat.”

  “Skinny little you?”

  “You bet! I have the appetite of a lumberjack!”

  “In that case, I’d better stop off at my room for more money. I only br
ought enough for a seven or eight course breakfast.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The restaurant was a bit full, so they had to wait on line for a short while before they got their breakfast. When they were done eating, Laurel and Michael lingered over a second cup of coffee. She usually preferred tea, but after all the excitement, Laurel declared it to be a coffee morning.

  “I certainly can’t complain about the weather here,” Laurel commented.

  “Neither can I,” Michael agreed. “I heard they’re having a frost at home in Connecticut.”

  “That makes it even nicer. Tell me about Connecticut.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “About your home, your life there.”

  “I see,” said Michael, interlocking his fingers on the table. “Well, to begin with I have a house in Simsbury, a residential community within commuting distance to Hartford. It’s a countrified area with several large parks and a nice mountain ridge for hikers. There used to be a lot of tobacco farms, but most of these have been sold. For awhile, we had a problem with our drinking water because of the chemicals they’d sprayed on the tobacco, but that’s all cleared up now. “

  “What kind of house do you own?”

  “It’s a contemporary ranch house on three and a half acres. The section where I live was only recently opened for development.”

  “Is it a big house, Michael?”

  “I guess you could say that. It has four bedrooms and a large deck that overlooks the valley.”

  “That sounds lovely. You did say you lived alone, didn’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You must get a lot of company then,” Laurel said probingly.

  “Not really.”

  “Do you have a large family?”

  “No. Just one sister. She lives in Avon, just south of Simsbury.”

  “That’s nice. You must see a lot of each other.”

  “Kitty?” Michael said with a laugh. “I hardly see her at all. Kitty’s ten years younger than I am and we’ve never gotten along well together.”

  “I guess that’s because of the age difference.”