by Lena Gregory
“Oh, and I’ll give you three guesses who’s back in town, but rumor has it he’s going to be playing tour guide instead of lifeguard this summer.” Bee paused, then gave Cass a nudge from the backseat when she didn’t answer quickly enough.
“I don’t know, who?” Even if she did know, she wouldn’t spoil his fun. The last thing she needed was Bee in full-on sulk mode because he hadn’t been the first to pass on good dirt.
“Quincy Yates.” The dramatic pause clued Cass in she should remember the name from somewhere, though it didn’t sound at all familiar.
“Who’s Quincy Yates?” A quick glimpse in the rearview mirror caught him rolling his eyes.
“Oh, come on, Cass. You remember Quince . . . tall, well-built, blond highlights streaking his shoulder-length brown hair, framing those bright blue eyes, and all set off by his ridiculously dark golden tan. Looked like he sashayed straight off the cover of a romance novel.”
“Seriously, Bee? You just described half the lifeguards lining the beach.”
He laughed out loud, a long, deep belly laugh that had her grinning. “Well, I can’t argue that, but Quince is the one who goes with a new gal every summer, left that snotty tour guide—what was her name?—screaming and cursing up a storm at him from the dock when he left her behind and boarded the ferry to go back home the weekend after Labor Day last year.”
Stephanie turned toward him. “You mean Piper Bonavich?”
“Yeah, her.” Bee screwed up his face as if he’d stepped in something Beast hacked up on the beach. “I never understood what he saw in her in the first place.”
“Really?” Cass lifted a brow at him in the rearview mirror. “Could it have been the long blonde hair, deep dark tan, brilliant blue eyes, and legs that went practically up to her neck?”
“She was beautiful,” Stephanie added. “And easy enough for a summer fling.”
Bee huffed. “Yeah, well, she may have been beautiful on the outside, but she was a monster on the inside.”
True enough. The young woman had been downright nasty to almost everyone on Bay Island, locals and tourists alike. She’d even let Bee have it when he’d been kind enough to hold a door open for her at the deli, eyeing him up and down, then passing with a sneer and a rude comment.
Bee was a better person than Cass, because she’d have dropped the door on her as she passed. As it was, she’d had to refrain from sticking her foot out and tripping her when she’d insulted Bee. “You know how it is, Bee.”
During the summer months, tourists from Long Island and New York City flocked to Bay Island in droves. Because of that, the less fortunate, those who’d love to spend their summers on the island but couldn’t afford the hefty price tags, often took jobs for the summer and spent their time off playing tourist.
“It’s a win-win, really.” Stephanie relaxed back in her seat, her gaze focused on the view as they rounded the last curve and the woods opened up to reveal an incredible expanse of dark, choppy water, blue skies, and puffy white clouds. A gorgeous day for sightseeing. “We get the extra waiters and waitresses, tour guides, lifeguards, house cleaners, and retail help we need, and they get to hang out on an island for the summer before heading back to reality come the beginning of September.”
Bee shrugged. “I don’t mind the influx of summer workers, only Piper. Hopefully, she had her fill last year and won’t be back.”
Gravel and seashells crunched beneath the tires as Cass pulled into the lot. At least they didn’t have to pay to park yet, as they would once the park officially opened for the season. “Well, if she does come back, ignore her. And don’t hold any doors open for her.”
Bee squirmed. He didn’t have it in him to be rude to most people, even when they deserved it. He pointed out an empty spot. “Lot’s pretty full for a Monday afternoon when school hasn’t even let out yet.”
Several cars and a couple of SUVs lined the lot, and a tour bus had parked crookedly against the sagging split-rail fence.
Cass slid her sunglasses off and squinted. “I didn’t realize the tours had already started.”
Bee gripped the seat backs and pulled himself forward until he was leaning between the two front seats. “Oh, didn’t you hear?”
“Hear what?” If she didn’t know better, Cass would have sworn Bee had scripted that exact moment to impart whatever dirt he was grinning like a Cheshire cat over for full dramatic effect. Who knew? Maybe he had.
“Fred DiCarlo is running ghost tours now.”
“Ghost tours?” She studied the group of tourists and noticed they were lacking the usual designer brand khakis, loafers, and sundresses that probably cost more than Cass made in a month. And that was before you added the designer bags and cameras they all usually carried. This group was different, mostly wearing jeans or cargo shorts and T-shirts, and not a camera in sight.
“Yup. Swears the lighthouse is haunted.” Bee poked her shoulder. “Hard to believe it took all these years to figure that out, huh? Especially when he’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
Stephanie laughed. “Hey, don’t knock him, Bee. If he’s bringing tourists to the island seeking ghosts, what better place to find them than Mystical Musings?”
Stephanie had a point. Mystical Musings would only benefit from tourists seeking to communicate with those who’d moved on.
Cass parked and turned off the engine.
“Supposedly, the old Madison Estate is part of the tour too. I think Fred worked out some kind of deal with the owner to have the guests stay at the B&B as part of a tour package.” After a quick peek in the rearview mirror, Bee finger-combed his hair then stepped out of the car.
“Hmm . . . maybe you can talk to him, Cass, make a visit to the shop part of the tour, offer a commission for any customers he brings in.” Stephanie climbed out of the car and stretched her arms over her head.
It wasn’t a bad idea. If she confirmed Bee’s gossip was actually true, maybe she’d give Fred a call, see if they could work something out. She started to shut the door, then thought better of it and reached in for her sunglasses. The glare off the water would be brutal this time of day.
At least, it would be if they actually reached the top of the lighthouse. Even strolls along the beach with Beast, which she took as often as possible between a harsh winter and a deluge of spring rain, couldn’t prepare her for the climb up the circular staircase’s hundred and thirty-seven iron steps. Her legs ached just thinking about it.
“You could always ask Amelia about the tours, if the gift shop isn’t too crowded.” Bee looked up at the lighthouse then back at Cass.
She grinned. If the appalled look on his face was any indication, his thoughts were running similar to her own.
“Ready?” Stephanie started across the lot without even glancing up.
Cass and Bee fell into step on either side of her.
“What do you want to do first? Walk the grounds? The museum? Stop into the gift shop to talk to Amelia?” Bee swallowed hard. “Or climb to the top?”
“The tour group just headed into the lighthouse, so why don’t we stop at the gift shop first?” Stephanie said.
“Good idea.” Climbing the lighthouse with a large group of people, every sound echoing through the entire place, was not as fun as having the space to themselves would be.
Bee shuddered. “Better a tour group than a school trip. I did that once when I first moved to Bay Island. Had to be a hundred kids, all screaming and excited. And they started up after I’d almost reached the top, so there was no escape. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, but never again. I developed a new appreciation for teachers that day.”
Cass reached the keeper’s house, which stood right beside the lighthouse, and held the gift shop door open.
Bee took over and ushered them both in ahead of him.
Cass’s gaze immediately landed on a display of lighthouse figures, the same ones she sold in her shop but priced a dollar lower. She’d have to lower her
price as soon as she got back. She wouldn’t go below their price, but she didn’t want to be higher either.
“Good morning. Oh, well, afternoon, I guess now.” Amelia DiCarlo hustled from behind the counter, then slowed when recognition hit. “Oh, sorry, I was preoccupied and didn’t realize it was you guys. Tourist season seems to have started early this year.”
“We saw the tour bus outside. Doesn’t Fred usually wait until after Memorial Day to start up?” It didn’t make much sense to pay guides before the season officially opened. The few tours that ran year-round could easily be handled by Fred or his one full-time employee.
Amelia sniffed. Her lower lip quivered, and tears shimmered in her eyes, but she simply nodded.
Cass glanced at Bee, but he just frowned and shook his head once.
“Is everything okay, Amelia?”
“Oh, yes, fine.” She waved off Cass’s concern and forced a smile. “So, what can I help you with today? Are you going to climb to the top?”
Cass waited a moment but then let it drop. Whatever was bothering Amelia, she obviously didn’t want to share. Cass would offer a reading, give the woman a chance to talk if she wanted to, but Amelia had never come into the shop in the past, and her husband, Fred, had made it clear on numerous occasions he didn’t believe in anything beyond the here and now. Except when it could make him money, apparently. “Yes, and maybe tour the museum and the grounds for a bit.”
“Sure thing. It’s a beautiful day for it. Come on, and I’ll ring you up.” She headed toward the register. “You might want to start in the museum, since the tour group just headed up.”
“We were hoping to run into Fred.” Stephanie slung her purse off her shoulder and pulled out her wallet.
Bee laid a hand over hers. “My treat, remember?”
Amelia narrowed her eyes. “What do you want with him?”
“Thanks, Bee.” Stephanie kissed his cheek. “Umm . . . oh, right. Is it true Fred is offering haunted tours now?”
Amelia gritted her teeth as she rang up their admission fees. “Uh-huh. Giving one right now, also training the tour guides he hired for the season on how to give the new tour, even those who were here last year. Apparently they need a refresher course.”
Stephanie shot a quick glance from Cass to Bee while Amelia was looking down at the register making change.
Cass shrugged and Bee shook his head.
Since she’d already started, Stephanie plastered on a smile and continued. “We were hoping he’d consider adding Mystical Musings to the tour, give his customers a chance to stop in and shop, maybe have a reading. Do you think he’d be interested?”
She snorted. “If it don’t have long legs and a short skirt, he probably ain’t interested.”
Uh-oh.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .” She handed Bee his change. “I have to go unlock the third floor for the group to get in.”
“The third floor?” Bee asked.
The first floor of the old lighthouse keeper’s house had been turned into the gift shop and museum, with offices and storage throughout the second floor, but Cass had always figured the third floor was an attic or more storage space. “What’s on the third floor?”
“Used to be bedrooms up there, and one of Fred’s supposed ghosts was staying up there when he got himself killed trying to find the treasure . . .”
Bee’s ears perked right up, and he went from bored disinterest to fully focused in a fraction of a second. “Treasure?”
Cass shot him a scowl.
Amelia shrugged. “Darned if I know, some nonsense he was rambling on about. Ask me, I think he’s just looking for an excuse to get the bedrooms opened up to him.”
Though the words had been spoken with a casual shrug, there was no mistaking the pain in Amelia’s eyes.
“Anyway, I gotta go. You guys, enjoy.” She grabbed a set of keys from beneath the counter and sorted through them as she hurried across the gift shop, stuck the Back in five sign on the door, and walked out.
“Hey, Cass.” Bee winked. “What do you say we sneak up to the third floor, and you ask the ghost where we can find that treasure?”
“Really, Bee?” Stephanie raised a skeptical brow. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts?”
Chapter Three
Cass took her time strolling through the museum, enjoying the many exhibits. She could spend hours drifting through the past, exploring the history of Bay Island. The museum proudly displayed information about Gardiners Bay and its inhabitants, the local wildlife, many historical residences that could be found throughout Bay Island, and a variety of shipwrecks, rumors of which shifted as often as the tides.
“Hey, Cass. Check this out.” Bee squinted and leaned closer to the plaque posted in front of an exhibit.
“What is it?”
He frowned and shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think it might be talking about the buried treasure Fred wants to feature on the tour.”
Cass and Stephanie crowded in on either side of him to study the plaque.
“Is this new?” Cass couldn’t remember ever having seen the display before. Nor had she heard mention of the story.
“Yup,” a man said from right behind them.
Bee squealed and jumped, knocking Cass to the side as he whirled to face the man who’d spoken.
“Hey . . .” Catching herself against the display case, Cass turned as well.
“Oh, for crying out loud . . .” Bee spread a hand against his chest with all the flair of a Hollywood diva. “What are you trying to do to me, Levi?”
The burly older man laughed out loud, ripped the mariner’s cap from his nearly bald head—if you didn’t count the few tufts of shocking orange hair that still clung for dear life—and slapped it against his leg. Laugh lines framed eyes the color of the greenest meadows and dappled with golden spots of sunshine. “Sorry, there, Bee. Didn’t realize you hadn’t seen me.”
Bee huffed and fluffed his multicolored scarf. “Yeah, well . . .”
“Of course, if I had realized it, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.” He swiped tears from the corners of his eyes and fitted his cap back on. “Ah, that was priceless. Gotta admit, you’re pretty spry there, old man.”
Bee grinned. “Who you callin’ old, old-timer?”
“I might be old, but I ain’t dead yet, despite the fact you looked like you’d been spooked by a ghost.” He tipped his cap toward Cass and Stephanie. “Ladies.”
Fanning himself, probably in an effort to calm his racing nerves, Bee blew out a breath. “You should know better than to sneak up on people, Levi.”
He folded his hands over the top of his dust mop’s handle and crossed one leg over the other. “Hey, I said sorry. Besides, I didn’t know anyone was in here when I came in to clean. I saw Amelia hurry out and figured it’d be a good time to get a few things done while it was empty. Not to worry, though, I have plenty to keep me occupied upstairs now that they’re opening the third floor. I can do that first.”
Bee waved him off. “Nah, don’t change your routine on account of us. We’re going to head up the lighthouse as soon as the tour group comes down, anyway.”
Levi’s smile faltered for an instant, his eyes darkening like molten lava pouring over the landscape. “Fred’s up there?”
“Amelia said something about him retraining his tour guides to include a paranormal element.” Cass waited for his reaction, paying more attention to his body language, the stiffening of his spine when she mentioned Amelia in particular, than the smile he beamed at her.
“Is that so?” He crooked a finger for Bee to come closer and looked around as if making sure he wouldn’t be overheard.
All three of them leaned in.
“I’ll tell you what, Bee. On account of me sneaking up on you and scarin’ you so bad and all, I’ll offer up some good gossip as a sort of, shall we say, sorry I’m not sorry.”
Bee’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want in exchange?”
&nb
sp; “Nothing, this time, but if you ever hear anything juicy, I get dibs.” He patted his chest.
“Fair enough.” Bee stuck out his hand, and Levi shook it. “Let’s have it.”
“Okay, but this ain’t the regular type gossip you’ll hear down at the deli or the diner.”
Bee’s eyes widened, and he practically drooled over the news—the same look Beast had the time Cass offered him half a steak she hadn’t been hungry enough to finish.
Stephanie gave him a shove. “Down, boy.”
Levi laughed. “Ah, let ’im be, missy. This here dirt’s worth it.”
“All right, let’s have it.” Bee rolled his hand for Levi to continue. “And I promise I won’t forget where I heard it.”
“Fair enough.” Levi gestured toward the far corner of the room. A dim bulb flickered, casting shadows over whatever was displayed there. He pushed his dark glasses farther up his hooked nose. “You want to know more about the haunted tour Fred’s touting? Go have yerselves a look-see at that display in the corner, the one tucked between Crustaceans of the Cove and Local Rocks. The one the local historical society insisted be included if Fred wanted their approval to declare the lighthouse haunted, since only one person ever died there, at least as far as anyone knows. Though there are rumors . . .”
Bee squinted across the room at the display. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying out here.”
And if someone had, Bee would surely know about it.
“That’s because it happened back in the late seventeen hundreds. The lighthouse keeper at the time, the first ever at the Bay Island Lighthouse soon after it was built, Samuel Garrison, was found beaten and bloody on those big rocks beneath the lighthouse.”
“What happened to him?” Bee asked.
“No one knows. Some said he fell, others said he was pushed, and still others believed the tide battered him while he was searching for the treasure—”
Bee sucked in a breath. “Treasure?”
