by Clay, Verna
Gabby lifted her lashes to stare into his expressive eyes. "Because it's not right. Years ago we kissed in the boathouse and I've never forgotten that kiss. But I was married to a wonderful man and I've had to live with my guilt since then. Last night finished the moral lapse of my character. I–"
"Gabby, that's crazy. You have outstanding character. Our spouses are dead and we have years ahead of us. Baxter and Faith will eventually take over the bed and breakfast and I have enough money that we can travel the world. We can experience life outside of Somewhere, and when we're tired of that, we can return to our beloved town. We–"
"Yes, we could do all that, but it would never assuage my guilt. It would only solidify my cheating on Marcus. I wish to God you'd never kissed me so that this–" she indicated the bed, "wouldn't have been necessary, and we'd be blissfully ignorant of our lust for each other."
Leo pushed his chair back and stood. "That's a lie. We were meant to be together, Gabby. Not then, but now. This has always been our destiny and until you admit it, you'll never be happy. Look at me."
Gabby had averted her eyes, but now shifted her gaze to the sapphire depths of his.
"But I'm going to make things easy on you. No longer will I pursue you. If you ever come to your senses, you'll have to pursue me."
During her three hour drive home Gabby kept swiping tears off her cheeks. Leo was wrong. They weren't meant to be together and she would never pursue him—so why did her heart ache so much? She and Leo had given themselves to each other without reservation, and she had done so without thought for the future. Her only goal had been to get him out of her system. She was too old to act like a high school girl crushing on the all-star jock. Leo was intelligent, funny, handsome, kind, everything a woman could want, while she was frumpy, cranky at times, overly serious, and still wore her hair in the same style as in her youth—hair that was now silver. Except for last night, most of the time she felt old. Her knees were giving her trouble and she had bladder issues. Yes, she decided, Leo could find a woman much better suited to him, and it wouldn't even be unusual if he married someone twenty years his junior.
As she turned onto the off-ramp that would bring her into Somewhere, she decided that after her visit with Vicky she would retire for the night, bawl her eyes out, and then go on with life.
18: Another Ghost?
Vicky sat with Gabby in the living room of her third floor suite and accepted the cup of hot chocolate from her friend. She studied the melting marshmallows becoming frothy and wondered how to begin. Patiently, Gabby waited.
Finally, she said, "I think we have another ghost."
Gabby's hand jerked and she spilled chocolate on her lap.
Vicky quickly grabbed a napkin and handed it to her. "I'm so sorry. I should have found a less jarring way of saying that."
Gabby mopped up the spill and waved her concern aside. Bringing her attention back to Vicky she leaned forward. "Why do you think that? And do you know who it is?"
"I think it's Belinda Hope, the first wife of Randall, and the mother of Rose." She then began an explanation of the strange incidents. When she got to the part about the word "DIARY" being written on the old parchment, Gabby reared backward. "That's wild!"
"I know, but wait until you hear the rest of the story." Vicky reached in her purse and pulled out the brochure with the ink blots.
Gabby's eyes widened as she listened to the account about the brochure and the blue ink matching the inkwell in Belinda's room. She accepted the brochure from Vicky and inspected the markings below the last two words.
Vicky said, "What I'm getting at is that I think Belinda is trying to tell me that her diary is hidden in your house."
Gabby laid the brochure aside and nodded. "That's how it appears." She lifted her cup in a gesture asking if Vicky wanted a refill, and Vicky handed her cup over. Gabby returned shortly with their hot chocolate and said, "So I guess we need to search my home. Do you have any idea where to begin?"
Vicky shook her head. "None whatsoever, but I was thinking that if it's all right with you, we could let Faith know what's going on. Maybe she has some ideas."
"Excellent idea since she's the one contacted by your brother. I'll call her right now. Do you think we can wait until Sunday around three to search? All my guests will be gone and, if you agree, we could ask Sunny to help us."
"I think that's a great plan."
Gabby lifted her phone and speed dialed Faith.
Around three on Sunday, Gabby, Vicky, Faith, and Sunny met in the library of the B & B. Prior to that day, Gabby had done a sweep of her own residence on the third floor and, as expected, came up empty since it had been torn apart during the remodel years earlier.
She now enlisted Sunny's help without giving particulars by saying, "We're looking for a diary we believe may be hidden in my home, but it's not something we want to advertise to the world." She knew Sunny was trustworthy and continued, "More than likely, it will be from the early part of the previous century."
The girl's eyes widened and she said solemnly, "I promise not to tell anyone about it."
Gabby grinned. "Great. We'll start by canvassing the ground floor. Possible hiding places could be a false bottom in a drawer, the interior of a book that's been carved out, moveable bricks or paneling or floorboards, all the places you see in movies."
Sunny's eyes lit with excitement as she glanced from Gabby to Faith and Vicky. To her credit, she didn't ask for more information than was given. She rubbed her hands together. "Tell me where to start."
Gabby said to Vicky and Faith. "Do you think she should start with the bookshelves in the library?" Both women agreed and Gabby smiled. "You have your marching orders, girl."
Faith said, "I'll check the kitchen."
"And I'll start in the parlor," said Vicky.
Gabby said, "I'll search the foyer and dining room. After we finish downstairs, we'll move upstairs if necessary."
By five o'clock the only one who had found anything was Sunny. In a hollowed out book she had discovered some bills and coinage dating from 1919 into the 1930s.
Gabby picked up a coin, studied it, and said, "Of course, there's no way of knowing when the money was actually hidden, but the 1930s was the era of the Great Depression and people hoarded whatever they could. I think I'll have the book and money preserved under glass to display in the library. Great job, Sunny!"
At the praise, Sunny's mouth lifted in a brilliant smile and Gabby decided she should praise the girl more often.
After the discovery the women retired to the kitchen and sat at the gigantic island to sip raspberry tea.
Vicky placed her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. "Rats. I guess I'm going to have to wait for more clues."
Gabby saw Sunny's questioning expression, but the girl remained silent. The conversation then turned to the latest gossip at Mama Pink's Diner, which was the upcoming vote by the council as to whether they would consider or completely reject Michael Wainwright's proposal to purchase five acres of public beach for his resort.
Gabby exclaimed, "I can't believe his proposal has made it this far after all the protesting we've done. If the two newest members vote in favor of the resort, then the deciding vote will be by Art Hope. I hope he doesn't betray Somewhere. He's voted contrary to the best interests of the town before." She puffed a breath. "I only voted for Art because he's distantly related to my late husband. The person who ran against him, Jefferson Nunez, would have been a better choice, so I guess the lesson learned is to follow your heart and instinct." As soon as she said the words she thought about Leo. That's different.
19: Clueless
Sunny had enjoyed searching for a diary with Gabby, Faith, and Vicky that afternoon. They were nice ladies who made her feel welcome in their town and a part of something; a feeling she had rarely encountered since becoming an orphan.
Although Gabby always encouraged her to take a couple of hours off on Sunday afternoons, she usually got a head sta
rt on the next day's work. Her employer had surprised her, however, when she'd invited Sunny to join in a treasure hunt, and when Sunny had been praised for finding the coinage, it had been balm to her soul. The hunt had been fun and she'd told the ladies she'd love to help again if they needed her.
Now, after such an exciting day, she pushed the screen door open to take an evening walk on the beach.
"Oh, Sunny," Gabby called from the doorway when she started down the porch steps.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Have you thought about your costume for Halloween? We always dress up."
"Ah, no. I hadn't thought about it."
"Well, I have a few costumes I've collected over the years. So if you want to go through them, just let me know. Also, the Boys' and Girls' Club host a haunted house every year, which is great fun. You might want to go with Noah."
"Thank you, ma'am; I'll think about it."
As Sunny descended the steps, she knew she wouldn't think about it. Since the age of thirteen she had hated the holiday because, other than her parents' deaths, it had been the worst nightmare of her life.
Walking the beach, she pushed remembrances of Halloween from her mind so she could enjoy the panorama of a golden ball of light sinking into an aqua sea, amidst scarlet and orange sky streaks. She decided to sit on the sand to enjoy the stunning vestiges of light and color and the sound of waves.
After a time, a voice behind her said, "Mind if I join you?"
Sunny's heart tripped at Noah's request. She shrugged without turning around. "Suit yourself."
Noah dropped onto the sand Indian fashion. "Sunrise and sunset are my favorite times of day."
Since his remark was rhetorical, she didn't respond.
When the sun had sunk until it was barely visible above the sea, he said, "Have you thought about what you're going to be for Halloween?"
She turned to stare at him. "Have you been talking to Gabby?"
"No. Why?"
"Because she asked me the same thing. But to answer your question, no, I haven't thought about it."
"The Boys and Girls Club have a–"
"Haunted house," she finished for him. "Gabby told me about that, too."
"It's lots of fun and I could pick you up–"
"No. I don't like haunted houses. I think I'll pass."
"Why? Did you have a bad experience in one?"
Because Noah was getting too close to the truth, she said testily, "What's your costume? A nerdy detective?" She felt Noah studying her profile and finally glanced at him. "What? What?"
He said with seriousness, "Do you want to talk about whatever's bothering you?"
Her eyes widened. "There's nothing bothering me." She jumped to her feet. "Gotta get back." As she started walking away Noah called out, "I'll dress like a nerd if you dress like a happy person."
A week after searching Gabby's home for the diary, Vicky was feeling clueless about where to look next. As was her routine at museum closing time, she walked through each bedroom and then started downstairs to do the same with the other rooms. Unexpectedly, she heard a thud, and her calm heartbeat went ballistic. When she stepped off the last stair into the large hallway and glanced around, she noted that the door to the storage closet under the stairs was ajar.
It was always locked.
Timidly, she walked to the door and slowly pulled it open. She reached for the string dangling from the light bulb and pulled. On both sides of the closet were four shelves, and facing her were four more. Everything looked just as neat and tidy as always, except there was a scrapbook on the floor. She bent to pick it up and whispered, "Is there something in here you want me to see?" She closed the door, locked it again, and finished her rounds holding the book to her chest. Then she took the scrapbook of pictures, postcards, and newspaper articles that were now preserved under acid free film, to her sitting room.
After brewing a cup of tea, she relaxed on her couch to peruse the contents of the scrapbook. She studied each page carefully, looking for whatever she was supposed to see. After twenty minutes she turned the page to a newspaper article with a picture of Belinda Hope seated behind a desk. The date on the newspaper was faded, but still legible: January 29, 1918. In the picture, she was smiling and radiant and held an ink quill. The caption read:
BELINDA BEAUFORT WRITING HER FINAL ARTICLE FOR THE OREGON JOURNAL.
The article then mentioned Belinda's upcoming marriage to Randall Hope and relocation to Somewhere, Oregon, and thanked her for her hard work as the youngest contributing writer for social events in Portland.
After Vicky finished the article she didn't see any clues that would point to the whereabouts of the diary. She was about to turn the page when she noticed something familiar—the desk Belinda was sitting at. It wasn't the one in the bedroom upstairs; it was the antique desk at Gabby's house, or at least it looked just like it. Had Belinda brought the desk with her when she moved to Somewhere?
Excitement pumped adrenalin through Vicky's body. But why would the desk be at Sebastian's home? Of course, with the Hope homes passing from generation to generation, it was entirely likely someone had traded one piece of furniture for another, or just given the desk away. She may never know.
She frowned. She had checked that desk during Sunday's search. Had she missed something? She decided she would call Gabby first thing in the morning and tell her about the newspaper article.
20: Second Time Around
Sunny stood with Gabby and Faith as they watched Vicky search the desk for a hidden compartment. Finally, Vicky rose from where she had been lying under the desk. "I don't see anything."
The three women turned to look at Sunny.
"Okay, it's your turn," said Gabby.
Sunny shrugged. "I doubt I can do any better, but I'll give it a try." Like the other women, she started by pulling out drawers and putting pressure on the wood to check for false bottoms or sides. Nothing. Then she moved to the back of the desk, knocking and pressing on the wood. She knelt on the floor to gaze beneath it and search for any anomaly. Nothing. Disheartened, she said, "I can't find anything, either."
"At least we gave it our best shot," said Gabby, as she walked to the parlor door that she'd locked to keep prying eyes away.
Sunny stood and glanced down at her feet. Her tennis shoes were worn and beginning to fray and she needed to buy a new pair soon. Besides that, it wasn't good for B & B guests to see an employee looking so shabby. She would dip into her savings and buy new shoes and jeans. She moved her gaze back to the desk and stared at the ornately carved feet. "Wait?" she said more loudly than she intended.
With her hand on the doorknob Gabby turned around. Faith and Vicky stared at her.
"We didn't check the feet and legs," she said.
The three women's eyes widened and Gabby rushed back to the desk. "Help me turn it over." When the desk was lying upside down on its tabletop, Gabby motioned toward Sunny. "You first, honey."
Since it seemed so important to her new friends, Sunny breathed a silent prayer that if a diary was hidden in a leg, it would be found. She began by inspecting the exposed bottoms of the feet and noticed something strange. Why were the bottoms of the feet stained darker than the desk? Why were they stained at all? She said, "Does anyone have a rag?"
"Yes! Yes!" Gabby rushed behind the counter and pulled out a dust cloth.
Sunny began rubbing the bottoms of the feet to remove the grime of decades. When she got to the third foot, it felt slightly different. Vicky thrust her water bottle at Sunny and said, "Here, wet the cloth." Sunny moistened the cloth and scrubbed harder. As dirt was removed, she could see a tiny ridge along one edge of the foot where some sort of filler had decayed and fallen out. She glanced up and met the gazes of the other women. Vicky unscrewed her water bottle. "Wet the cloth again and rub the other feet to see if they also have a ridge."
After Sunny rubbed first one foot and then the others, nothing similar was discovered, and the women gaped at each other. Faith sa
id, "It looks like maybe this foot has a plug that someone tried to cover up by filling the edges in, and then staining the bottoms of the feet to make it unnoticeable."
Gabby said, "Does anyone have a metal nail file?"
Vicky rushed to where she had set her purse on the counter. "I do!" She dug through the contents and then handed a file to Sunny.
Sunny didn't reach for it. "Maybe you should do this."
"Oh, no, Sunny. It was your brilliance that made the discovery. You should have the honor."
Sunny had never received such awesome praise and she wanted to cry. She accepted the file and began scraping away more filler from the crack. Small chunks dislocated and fell away. She glanced up at Gabby. "If I push the file into the crack and try to dislodge the wood, I may damage or splinter the claw foot. Is that okay?"
Gabby didn't hesitate in answering. "Go for it, girl."
Sunny began gently pushing the file into the crack. At first there was resistance, but then the metal penetrated the remaining filler. She jerked her head up. "It just broke through."
The women leaned closer as she began prying upward, using the file like a shovel. The metal started to bend from the pressure, but then, unexpectedly, a chunk of wood popped into the air, hitting Vicky in the arm. She gasped and stepped backward. "I'm okay! I'm okay!" She returned to stare at the gaping hole left behind.
Sunny held her breath as she reached her hand into the space. About halfway up, where the leg widened, she felt something and wrapped her fingers around it. Slowly she turned the object lengthwise and pulled out a small, flexible, leather pouch. She handed the pouch toward Gabby, but Gabby said to Vicky, "Do you want to open it?"
