The smile faded. Did Rolo draw those pictures? Considering Rolo’s checkered past, the idea wasn’t that far-fetched. Somehow, though, she couldn’t picture Rolo drawing those hate-filled lines, even as a child. There was a sereneness about him, an appealing naiveté. And if Rolo drew the pictures, wouldn’t Lora have shown them to Nettie all those years ago?
But Sabrina couldn’t shake the look on Rolo’s face as he said, “It’ll all be over tomorrow.”
Sabrina shivered. What would be over tomorrow? Tomorrow was already today.
Chapter Thirteen
The sun was climbing the high, blue sky, and the temperature was slowly warming. Sabrina was amazed to think that Halloween was only a few days away. She thought about paper pumpkins, and tissue ghosts, and then turned her attention to the here and now.
Sabrina made her way through bustling, busy Waver Town, waving and smiling at people as she passed. They seemed startled by her friendliness, or maybe by the armful of dripping roses she carried. She passed Nettie’s store, and would have stopped, but the little shop was busy with people buying coffee and morning rolls. She peeked in and waved, but Nettie didn’t see her.
Over the bridge, she turned left onto Hurricane Harbor Road. She normally enjoyed a leisurely walk down scenic, tree-sheltered Tittletott Row, but this morning she was hungry and anxious to get to the Tittletott House.
She noticed the Blue Cam restaurant for the first time, a small blue building on the harbor front huddled in the shadow of the rowdy Ride the Big One Surf Shop and Pub. Sabrina peered in a window and saw May talking to a couple of dazed-looking tourists sitting at a plastic table. Sabrina winced and resolved that she would come back one day for lunch.
Virginia, sitting at the registration desk inside the Tittletott House, smiled at Sabrina as she came in.
“Hello Virginia,” Sabrina called. “How’s business?”
“Slow.” Virginia managed to give the appearance of grimacing without actually dimpling the pale, smooth cream of her skin. She was dressed in an immaculate green pantsuit, her fine blond hair weaved into an intricate braid. “This time of year, we mainly just get busy on weekends.”
“That’s too bad,” Sabrina sympathized and plunked the roses down on the registration desk. “I hope you have a vase. I don’t have anywhere to put all these roses.”
“Yes, thank you very much. We have vases. It’s very kind of you. From the Old Wrightly House? There are some beautiful bushes there.” She paused, and Sabrina saw the spasm of…what?—memory, regret?—cross the other woman’s face.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine, fine,” Virginia said. “I just thought of something…. Thank you so much for the roses.”
“No problem. I’m going to get some breakfast. What’s the special this morning?”
“I don’t know. Gary’s cooking, the cook called in sick.” Virginia spoke absently and didn’t seem to notice as Sabrina said good-bye and went into the dining room.
She seated herself at the same table she had occupied the day before. Missy hustled up to her in a T-shirt proclaiming “You are depriving some poor village of its idiot” and asked what she wanted to drink.
“Hot tea, please,” Sabrina said. “And a menu.”
“No menus this morning.” Missy deftly scooped a plate off another table and looked over her shoulder at Sabrina. “Special number one, two and three is eggs benedict, country ham with homemade maple syrup, grits and fresh blueberry/raspberry muffins.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’ll have special number two, then.” Sabrina was already mentally justifying the extravagant breakfast. She was always meaning to try to cut back on her eating, but she could never say no to a good meal. And every meal was a good meal as far as Sabrina was concerned.
The dining room was mostly empty, except for a couple in the corner digging into their just-delivered plates. Missy bustled around the room, cleaning tables.
“Did you have a busy morning?” Sabrina asked.
Missy stood back and regarded the dirty tables. “Whenever the locals hear Gary’s cooking, they come tramping in. His food’s that good, not that anyone else in the house thinks so.” Missy snorted. “The poor man doesn’t get any respect.”
“He seems like a nice man,” Sabrina said diplomatically.
“I think so. But who am I to judge?” Missy snorted again. “I’m thinking about moving on to another line of work, anyway. I don’t get paid enough to listen to them screeching and hollerin’ at each other, and throwing things.” She shook her head in disgust, but her eyes were troubled.
“Who?” Sabrina was fascinated. “Elizabeth?”
“Well, she’s done her share. But no, I was talking about Mrs. Virginia and Mr. Gary. It was just terrible this morning!” She seemed about to say something else, and then didn’t.
“Hmmm,” Sabrina said.
Missy smiled with effort. “I wanted to thank you for giving the kids something to do after school. My son Karel was practicing Shakespeare all last night. Far cry from him playing those video games nonstop like he usually does. “
Before Sabrina could reply, Elizabeth Tittletott swept into the room looking around as if she was wondering where her throne had got to. Today she was wearing a thick, violet, cape-like dress which could have come straight off a Graceland curtain rod. Her hair was shaped into a golden helmet around her head and Sabrina suspected it was a wig.
“Missy,” she drawled. “This place is such a mess. Let’s try to clear the tables a little quicker, shall we?”
Missy paused, a tray full of dishes on her shoulder. “Elizabeth, unless you want to spring for a busboy, this place isn’t going to get any cleaner any quicker. By the way, have you read my T-shirt this morning?” Swinging her wide hips, she turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Well!” Elizabeth looked around the room for another victim. Her gaze passed over Sabrina, and then snapped back.
“Ah, Miss Dunsweeney,” she crooned, and sailed toward Sabrina’s table, a wide smile painted around large, false teeth. “How are we doing this morning?”
Sabrina regarded the older woman warily. “I’m doing fine, and you?”
“Just wooonderful,” Elizabeth oozed. “I was just wondering how you were getting along in that old, icky Wrightly cottage. Kind of uncomfortable, isn’t it? You should have stayed here.”
“It’s not uncomfortable,” Sabrina said.
“Have you seen the pirate yet?”
“Walk-the-Plank Wrightly?”
“You’ve heard all about him, I’m sure. Nasty old pirate, tried to kill my late husband’s ancestor. He’s been seen out by your place.”
“Really?” Sabrina looked down at the placemat, decorated with the many types of shells found in the ocean. She wasn’t sure what to say. She had the feeling Elizabeth was fishing for information about Rolo, but how to find out without giving away that she had seen him? It was an ironical situation since she had come to town to see what information she could find out about Rolo.
“I’m afraid I don’t believe in ghosts,” Sabrina said.
“But they’re real.” Elizabeth paused, and with relief Sabrina saw Missy approaching with her plate of food. “I hope you’re coming to the rally tonight, Bradford needs all the support he can get. I know it won’t be like your big city shin-digs—” she sneered slightly, and Sabrina was reminded of the Jester in Batman “—but it should be interesting for you.”
“Yes, I was planning on attending. Thank you, Missy, it looks wonderful.” Sabrina’s stomach growled.
“Here’s your food,” Elizabeth cried. “I will leave you to it.” Waving long, speckled fingers in Sabrina’s face, she turned and steamed across the room.
“By the way, Mrs. Elizabeth, you haven’t seen my cell phone, have you?” Missy called after the older woman.
“What? What? Your phone?” Elizabeth twisted her mouth sourly. “No, I haven’t seen it. You really must be more careful with your belongings.”
She flounced out of the room.
Missy shook her head and turned back to cleaning a table.
“You’ve lost your phone?”
“My cell phone. Not many people on the island have one, but I run a cab company, Missy’s Conveyance Company.” Missy smiled self-deprecatingly. “Okay, okay, so it’s a one-woman company, and my cab’s my minivan, but the tourists call me sometimes, to pick them up at the airport, or to take them on sightseeing tours. Their calls come to my cell phone, which I put down on a table this morning, I think—I’m not sure where it got to.”
“Well, I hope you find it.”
As she ate (the food was wonderful; Sabrina herself could have only done a slightly better job on the eggs benedict, and the muffins were out of this world) Sabrina thought about Elizabeth’s questions. Why did she have the distinct feeling Elizabeth was pumping her for information about Rolo? How could Elizabeth know that Rolo had been at the Old Wrightly House?
In retrospect, it wasn’t a hard question to answer. Anybody who knew Rolo was on the island would know that the tall, black-bearded pirate was in reality the ghost’s greatly removed grandchild, Rolo. After all, Rolo grew up on Jolly Roger Road. It was natural that he would gravitate back to that part of the island.
But why did Elizabeth care where Rolo was hiding? And why had Rolo contacted members of the Tittletott family? If she understood the overheard conversation correctly, Elizabeth said Rolo talked to Bradford. What did Rolo say to his childhood friend?
Sabrina scraped the last of the grits off her plate. As good as the food had been, and it had been heavenly, what she wouldn’t give for some hot, fried goetta right now.
Gary, in a dirty apron, long-sleeves rolled up, appeared at the door leading to the kitchen. He looked around at the empty tables, glanced at his watch and pulled off his apron. He was crossing toward the lobby when Sabrina called his name.
“Gary! Mr. Tittletott, I mean. How are you doing this morning?”
Gary looked over at her and as reluctantly as a child being forced to kiss his great aunt, the one who pinched your cheeks unmercifully and smelled like rotten peppermints, approached her table. “Uh—hello, Miss Dunsweeney,” he said, shuffling his feet a bit.
“I just wanted to let you know that the food was wonderful. See? I ate every bite.”
“Really?” Gary brightened. “My mother says—well, I’m glad you enjoyed the food. I enjoy cooking.”
“Do you really? So do I. I make a wonderful Clam Tartlet, and my Tuna Extravaganzo is pretty darn good, if I do say so myself.”
“An Extravaganzo, really? Not many, ahem, amateurs have the patience for an Extravaganzo. Tell me, do you add the white wine—”
“I always use a nice Pinot Grigio, it makes all the difference in the world.”
“Really? Hmm. Anyway, do you add the wine before or after you add the gigantic mushrooms?”
“Definitely before. It gives the gigantics a chance to simmer in that wonderful sauce, and they just soak it up, don’t you know?”
“That’s what I do!” Gary cried. His thin, ascetic face was flushed, his pale blue eyes shining with excitement. It was a far cry from the pallid, shy man she first met.
“Have you taken classes? I’ve taken a few here and there, and I found that they helped immensely.” It was a shame she could never take the advanced class, but each time she called to enroll the receptionist assured her that the class was full.
“No classes. Mother said—well, I’m happy here, running the house. When I was a kid, I thought I’d grow up to be a famous chef. I’ve been teaching Sid, and I think he’s really showing an aptitude. Of course, he’s so quick, he can pick up anything.” Gary’s face shone with pride for his son. “Anyway, I thought I might go to a culinary school, but then Brad decided to go into real estate, and I had to run this place. Wait a minute. You’re from Cincinnati? Did you, by chance, ever go to the Maisonette?”
“Yes. Every month. It’s wonderful, of course.”
“Of course,” Gary echoed reverently.
“Gary!” It was honey-covered steel.
Gary reflexively looked down at his grease-spotted pants and wiped at the flour on his hands.
Elizabeth was at the door, and she gestured at her son, her mouth pursed in disdain.
All the light went out of Gary’s face, and with a quick look in Sabrina’s direction, he shuffled toward his mother and they disappeared into the lobby.
Shaking her head, Sabrina paid Missy, left a good tip, and went into the lobby.
Virginia was still behind the desk.
“Did you enjoy your breakfast? Gary tends to go a little overboard.” Virginia had regained her composure.
“It was outstanding, Gary really has a talent for cooking. I’m surprised he never pursued cooking professionally.”
“It was all he talked about when we were kids. Brad was going to be rich, I was going to be a ballerina, Thierry was going to be a fireman in a big city, and Rolo was going to be president of the Sanitary Concessionary—” She stopped and looked away. “Well, you know how kids are.”
Sabrina paused. “My group of friends ended up being shipped to different private schools, and we kind of lost touch. It must be nice to know people so well you remember them as children.”
“Nice? I suppose so.”
“Now, I know who Brad is of course, and Gary, and I’m pretty sure Thierry is Thierry Wrightly, and Rolo is…?” Sabrina was congratulating herself on her neat way of putting the question. She didn’t actually lie and say she didn’t know who the man was, but the question was definitely there.
“Just a guy we all grew up with. He went away a long time ago.” Virginia was studying Sabrina as she said this.
“Really?” Sabrina tried her best to look innocent. “You must have been great friends.”
“All of us were kind of wild when we were young. Thierry and Gary were two grades below us but we all hung out together. Until—” She broke off. “Well, everybody’s got to grow up sometime. Brad and I ended up going to the same university, and of course, we all see each other almost every day, but it’s never really been the same.”
“Hmmm.” Sabrina’s brain was clicking along at a hundred miles an hour, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say without revealing her interest in Rolo. “Anyway, I’m surprised Gary didn’t go to culinary school.”
“He wanted to,” Virginia said indifferently. “But then he decided to run this place.”
A deep, masculine voice interrupted whatever else Virginia was going to say. “Hi, Miss Sabrina.”
She turned. “Hello, Brad.”
If Sabrina didn’t know better, she never would have thought he was island born and bred. He looked more like a corporate executive, handsome and assured in his blue power suit and red tie, with an elaborate gold and silver tie clip fastened to his snow-white shirt. He radiated confidence.
“Gary, I don’t know why you can’t just—” Elizabeth’s high scolding voice drifted ahead of her as she followed Gary into the lobby. Gary wore a harassed look, the fox hounded by the dog.
“Mother, I—”
“Virginia, I have an appointment this afternoon at two, so tell anyone who calls I’ll be back around three-thirty or so.” Brad was rummaging in a copious shoulder bag, pushing aside a pair of white boots, an address book and various other miscellaneous objects in his search.
“Good luck with your, ahem, appointment,” Elizabeth said, and allowed a slight smile to pass her lips.
Brad looked at his mother for a moment, and then his eyes shifted toward Sabrina. “Are you coming to the rally, Sabrina?”
“I wouldn’t miss the spelling bee for the world.”
“Well, good. I’ll look forward to seeing you.”
“Virginia and I were just talking about how you still know all the children with whom you grew up.” The words surprised Brad, judging from the abrupt northern migration of his eyebrows.
Virginia’s smile was fixed in
place with super glue, not changing when Brad sent her a quick, questioning look.
Elizabeth drifted over to the reception desk, and sniffed the roses. “Oh, how bee-yoo-ti-full. Isn’t it wonderful what our garden produces?”
“Sabrina brought them from the Old Wrightly House,” Virginia said.
There was another strained silence.
“Well,” Sabrina said, not understanding the undercurrents running like an electrified string from one family member to the next. “I’m off to the beach. It’s such a beautiful day, I think I’ll spend the whole day just lounging in the sand and reading my book.”
“I’ve got to run too,” Brad said. “I’ll call in sometime to get my messages.”
“I’m working the desk today,” Gary said. “I’ll try my best to keep up with your important messages.”
Silence.
“I’m leaving in an hour or so to help get the school ready for the rally.” Virginia’s voice was strained.
“Well, have a nice day. Good-bye!” Sabrina headed out the front door, relieved to be away from the contentious family.
She wasn’t getting very far with her Rolo questions, but she had a back up ace.
Lima. Lima knew everything about everybody, and Lima loved to talk.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hi, Miss Sabrina!” Lima called from his rocking chair. Bicycle was humming the theme song to WKRP in Cincinnati, rocking back and forth on the steps.
“Hello, Lima. Hello, Bicycle Bob. You used to watch WKRP in Cincinnati?” She addressed the question to Bicycle, but he just continued to hum, watching her with bright, alcohol-fevered eyes.
Sabrina mounted the stairs to the porch.
“I hear you’re doing a play with the kiddies.” Lima’s cheek was bulging, and he was working his mouth around a huge glob of chew.
“Yes. We’re doing Romeo and Juliet.”
“Shakespeare, huh?” Lima shuffled his boots on the porch and recited in a falsetto voice. “‘But soft! What light through that there window breaks?’”
“Why, Lima! You know Shakespeare?”
Island Intrigue Page 11
