A Haunting at Mariner’s Rest
Strategic Book Publishing & Rights Co.
E-book edition © 2013
All rights reserved – Barbara E Pleasant
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, from the publisher.
Strategic Book Publishing and Rights Co.
12620 FM 1960, Suite A4-507
Houston, TX 77065
www.sbpra.com
ISBN: 978-1-62857-634-4
All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to any character, living or dead is purely co-incidental.
Cover image is copyright protected
Prologue
Samantha listened; her hand covered her mouth to stifle a cry. Her face registered a look of horror as the disembodied voice of Charles Mariner told her the story of how he died.
“There was no warning.” With the pain of remembering, his voice broke to almost a sob.
“A freak storm, just suddenly there it was, with no time to make a run for it. The wind got up and the waves became mountains. I rode the crest of a wave and then I was falling down a mountainside when my boat dropped into the valley between two monstrous mountains of water. The horror continued until that rogue wave hit me broad side and my world turned upside down. Another huge wave rolled my boat over and that was the end.
“My boat went down by the head. I’ll never forget the sounds. I could actually hear her screaming as she disappeared below the surface. Her death knell was the screams of a hundred banshees.
“I was in the wheelhouse holding on and praying she would right herself one more time, just once more I begged. However, my prayers landed on deaf ears.
“I tried to swim out to make it to the surface but, the hem of my coat caught on the wall hook where I hang my charts. I tried desperately to free myself and I remember holding my breath until my lungs felt as if they were on fire. I couldn’t hold it any longer and I surrendered myself to the darkness. I stretched my arms out welcoming death, and sucked the salty water into my burning lungs.
“You would think that breathing water into your lungs would be like the pain you feel when you get choked on food or drinking water, and you say it went down the wrong pipe. To drown wasn’t like that. It was a relief to fill my deflated lungs with water. In just moments darkness rolled over me and I knew nothing else until I woke up at the water’s edge with waves rolling over me, pushing me this way, and than that. Two men took me by my arms and pulled me up to dry sand before the tide turned, and would wash me back out to sea.
“I was surrounded by people staring down at me. They were beach goers out for a day of fun. I struggled to my feet ready to thank my rescuers but then, I realized these people were not looking at me, but at something on the sand behind me. I turned and looked down, and there was my body still lying on the sand. Shocked, I kicked at it and told it, “Get up you fool, get up. These people think you’re dead.” My body didn’t move. I stared at it hoping, praying it would move. “Move damn you.” I ordered it. Since I’d stepped out of my body, I wondered, could I lie back down in it. If I could, maybe then I could make it get up. I lay back down, and then tried sitting up. I sat up, but my body didn’t. It stayed where it lay, limp on the sand. The pallor of my face was blue.
“Frightened, I began backing away not knowing what I was supposed to do. I backed right through a man standing there staring down at my dead body. To stand inside his body for a moment, it was a shock to share the same space as someone else. That feeling was creepy. After all, I’ve never been dead before and he didn’t seem to notice I was there inside him other than to sigh and take a deep breath. I continued to back away. There were so many people milling around now. To keep from walking through anyone else or so they wouldn’t walk through me, I looked around for a safe place to stand. I climbed up out of everyone’s way, and sat on top of a sand dune.
“The rescue squad came and loaded my body in the truck. They slammed the doors, and then drove off with the siren blaring. You’re dead I kept telling myself, dead. Then the thought struck me that maybe I should have gone with my body, to wherever they were taking it. I stood up ready to run after the truck, but it was gone with the sirens blaring. The sound began to fade away as the truck disappeared in the distance.
“The word dead kept repeating in my head.
“I looked down at what was left of me and laughed, I had no body. I was just a floating ball of sparkly energy with a mind that can think.
“I saw the beach goers shaking their heads sadly, and talking amongst themselves. I heard one woman say as she walked past me, “He looked so young, what a shame. He still had a whole life ahead of him.”
“With the excitement over, the curious began walking away, going back to enjoy their day at the beach. I was left sitting alone on that sand dune, and worrying about what comes next. Should I just sit here and wait for an angel or someone from the other side to come and get me? That’s what I’d always heard in Sunday school. An angel would come and take you to the gates of heaven where you would be judged for your sins before being allowed to enter. I waited. Where was my angel? Where was the bright light where the angel was supposed to take me?
“I watched the sinking sun turn the clouds orange and then it begin to drop slowly below the horizon. Then the sun was gone, and it grew dark. Still I waited for someone to come for me. I’ve never felt so alone and lonely in all my life.
“After awhile I decided no one was coming, and the word home came to mind. Yes, I told myself, take your dead self-home. I was resentful at how fragile the human body was. It took so little to bring it to the end of life.
“The sky was dark now, the clouds parted, the stars came out, and the moon rose giving me just enough light to see my way. I started walking down the beach in the direction I felt was home. At least I think I was walking. No, looking down I’m sure as a ball of sparkly energy, an orb, I was floating, just above the sand.
“Morning came and I saw the sunrise promising another beautiful beach day. Still I floated slowly past sunbathers, children building sand castles, and people walking slowly with their heads down, looking for the perfect seashell that may have washed in during the night. No one looked my way and no one saw me.
“One small boy chasing his beach ball ran through me without even knowing I was there. My body gave him no resistance. It was as if he ran through a cloud of fog, and out the other side.
“I don’t know how long it took me to get home; time has no meaning for me now.
Then, there it was. I could see it in the distance. It was my home with its tall brick chimneys rising above the sand dunes. My sanctuary, the place where I could rest, hide from the world and recuperate from this… state I was in. However, the word dead came back to me, and there’s no recuperating from being dead you dummy. Nevertheless, I was home, and the sight of the big house gave me a comforted feeling, as if a warm blanket had been wrapped around me. I’ve been here or near here ever since, not straying far.”
Charles stopped talking, his voice trailing off to nothing. Then he turned and looked at the huge brick beachfront house sitting far back on a wide expanse of perfectly manicured lawn.
“Look at her Samantha, isn’t she beautiful? In the morning sun, the color of the bricks changes to a deep rose.”
Samantha saw his face change and take on a dark look.
His voice took on renewed strength. “She belongs to the Mariner family, not shamed and degraded, turned into a hotel of all things. If they had made her into a whorehouse, it couldn’t make me feel any worse.
“I had plans to someday marry and fill the great house with the laughter of children.” He buried his face in his hands for a moment. His voice became almost a whisper. “I wanted to see my sons sliding down the big curved banister pretending it was a bucking bronco, the same as I did when I was a boy. I had promised my father lots of grandchildren. He wanted grandsons to follow his example, to become fishermen, and to bring in great catches of shrimp for the village.
“It’s gone now, everything’s gone. I watched all of my father’s boats sold off one by one. I watched men arguing over who would buy the last one. Now my home is gone, along with all my plans for the future. My father, everything is gone. I have nothing left now but… time.”
Tears misted Sam’s eyes. “I’m so sorry Charles. That must have been a horrible experience, but you’re all right now. It’s over and you’re safe from any further harm.”
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 | A much needed vacation |
Chapter 2 | Hearing voices |
Chapter 3 | Raleigh Gallagher |
Chapter 4 | The painting at the top of the stairs |
Chapter 5 | A presence in her room |
Chapter 6 | Get out of my bed |
Chapter 7 | His death |
Chapter 8 | A friendship deepens |
Chapter 9 | Robbery |
Chapter 10 | The scammers |
Chapter 11 | Sirens and horns |
Chapter 12 | Plans to go home |
Chapter 1
A much needed vacation
Samantha couldn’t believe it, of all the rotten luck. There was no warning, not even a hint the company was in trouble. Fired, everyone was fired. However, fired is such a harsh word, the company to make it sound better, used the word terminated instead.
Samantha arrived at work under gray threatening skies, and found her co-workers standing in front of a still locked door. Their faces registered shock as they pointed at the sign hanging on the front door, Gone out of Business.
What in the world happened between yesterday and today? How could all be well yesterday, with everyone making plans for the future, and changed to bankruptcy today, with not a one of us in this office getting a hint that something was wrong?
A fine misty rain began to fall, adding insult to injury. For shelter, the women huddled closer together under the small green canvas awning over the door.
Hoping to beat the coming rain, someone in the next block was burning leaves. A sudden gust of wind blew a flake of black ash against Sam’s white silk blouse leaving a dark spot. Sam smacked at the spot with her hand, however the powdery ash had penetrated the material and refused to be dusted away. Damn, another thing to add to the laundry basket.
Office Manager Hank Evers, of Rogers and Rogers Import-Export Company, drove up in front of the building, parked and dreading to face the group of women, he sat there a moment. He knew they were going to be irate about the hatchet that was swung over their heads. Finally, knowing there was no need putting it off any longer. He grabbed his black umbrella, opened the car door and holding the open umbrella over his head, he joined the silent group of unsmiling women waiting at the front door. If they were a mob of angry villagers carrying torches, pitchforks, and clubs, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Not one face greeted him with a smile and he couldn’t blame them.
He was shaking his head from side to side, and his face wore a defeated look. He held his hand up at the group in a stop gesture. “Ladies, ladies please don’t ask me what happened, I have no idea. I’m as much in the dark as you are.” His tone of voice had almost a begging sound.
“All I know is last night the elder Rogers sent me an email requesting all of us to meet in the office first thing this morning to clean out your desks. He’ll be here later this morning to give everyone severance pay, and the company’s apologies.
“I tried to get hold of him by phone for an explanation but could never get an answer. I continued calling his number until well after midnight, until I realized, he was hiding because he didn’t want to talk.”
A squealing of tires sliding on wet pavement caused the group to turn and look. The rain slick pavement should have been enough of a warning to drivers to slow down. However, when the light changed to red, a gray Chevy skidded to a stop. The red Ford pickup truck behind him slammed on breaks, and before finding enough traction to come to a stop, slid on the wet pavement to within an inch of the gray Chevy’s bumper.
“People just don’t know how to drive in the rain.” Remarked a man walking by shaking his head in disgust. Shielding himself under his black umbrella, he continued on his way hunching his shoulders deeper in his gray raincoat.
Hank unlocked the office door and held it open while the women filed in one by one and went straight to their desks. A sudden gust of wind caught the door and jerked it out of Hank’s hand causing it to slam with a loud gun shot like bang. The startled group of women jumped nervously.
“Sorry, it got away from me,” Hank said apologizing.
Samantha’s lunch buddy Mandy Franklin, headed for the coffee pot. “I guess we all need some hot coffee to chase away the damp chill.” In a few minutes, the delicious smell of fresh perking coffee filled the office lifting everyone’s spirits.
If, Samantha thought, I’d had some warning, I could have brought a box or bag to hold my things. However, she’d always made it a point not to kept personal items at work. Not even a photograph on her desk. She was all business at work however, she did have a personal notebook, day planer and the expensive ballpoint pen the company had given everyone at Christmas last year. Sam slipped that in her purse. She looked deep into the back of the desk drawer for anything she wanted to keep. Seeing nothing but regular office supplies that belonged to the company, she sat down in her armless office chair.
With a cup of coffee in her hand, that Mandy handed to her. She sipped the hot brew, and waited for the next revolting development to be dumped on her and her fellow employee’s shoulders.
She tried to think about what will happen tomorrow with no job but she saw nothing but darkness, no bright light in the future.
She hardly had time to finish her coffee and take a deep relaxing breath before the two Rogers, father and son walked in shaking the rain off their black umbrellas; they closed them and then stood them in the corner behind the door.
“First I want to say how sorry I am that we had to keep the bankruptcy a secret.” The elder Rogers began while wiping rainwater off his face with a spotless white handkerchief. Then before continuing, to give himself time to think about his next words, he refolded the handkerchief, and placed it back in his breast coat pocket with a point sticking up. Then clearing his throat, he continued with his explanation.
“Right up until yesterday morning, we still had hopes of finding a solution to our financial problems. However, so we could stay in business, we’ve tried everything we could think of to make things work out with our creditors.” He slowly shook his head from side to side. “No suggestion anyone brought to the table worked. Our creditors were very uncooperative. They wanted nothing but payment in full.
“I was able to hold back enough cash to give each one of you a check for three months severance pay, and my wife put together a letter of reference for you. If you’re careful with the money you should, by the end of three months, have found new employment.”
The elder Rogers sat down in Hank’s desk chair as if he hadn’t the strength to stand any longer. “Good luck my friends, you’ve been loyal employees and I’ve enjoyed working with you.” He opened the big manila envelope and handed it to the younger Rogers who began handing out smaller envelopes containing certified checks and a letters of reference.
Just as everyone said their goodbyes, the sky really opened up. Samantha hurried through the pouring rain while dodging and jumping over small puddles of water. She hopped in her car and drove slowly home hoping the rain would let up soon.
While waiting for the rain to slack up enough to get to her front door, she read the letter of reference again and the amount of the check. She nodded. It would be enough to last if she was careful.
The windshield wipers beat a steady tapping back and forth. Sam watched and racked her brain for answers. I have no job and a wave of fear hit her in the pit of her stomach. What do I do now? Still she sat watching the wipers sweep the water away; she decided that maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. She’d worked steady ever since graduating from high school and now could use a break.
The first week at home, she slipped on rubber gloves to protect her hands and cleaned the house from top to bottom, shining every mirror and window inside and out. She washed all the blankets, bedspreads, and curtains. She even rented a shampooer and cleaned the carpet throughout the house. At the end of the first week, the whole house sparkled. She stood back admiring everything she’d accomplished.
The second week she worked in the yard, weeding flowerbeds, cutting the grass, and raking up every stray leaf she could find, even those that had taken refuge under the shrubbery. Then she stuffed the grass clippings and leaves in black plastic bags, and carried them to the curb for the trash men to take. Sitting on the top step with a hot cup of coffee, she looked over the yard for something else she might have missed. The place was really taking shape now after having let it go for so long.
A neighbor walking his dog called out to Samantha as he went by. “It’s looking good Miss Porter.”
“Thanks. I let it go far too long but I think the work is caught up now.”
The third week to pass the time, she went to see every new movie in town. At the movies, she’d eaten enough popcorn, chocolate covered raisins, and juju beans that just the thought of another box made her a little nauseous. She looked down at her hips and thought; these babies didn’t care to see anymore of that fattening stuff either.
Then on the forth week, she sat on a bench in the park, eating a lunch she’d bought from home. It was certainly a little healthier than what she’d eaten the week before. This lunch was tuna fish on rye, with mayo, lettuce, and a bottle of water.
She sat in the shade watching people hurry to get where they were going and felt a little jealous. I have no place to go. I’m so bored I could scream, she moaned. Now what do I do with myself?
She tossed a begging squirrel a bread crust and watched him grab it and run up the nearest tree trunk. Another squirrel saw him get the crust and the chase was on. Up one tree and down another until the crust broke. The broken half fell through the leaves and limbs to the ground. While the lucky squirrel quickly ate what was left of his prize, the other squirrel made a dash down the tree trunk to grab the dropped half. “Sorry fellows, you should have come earlier. If I had more I’d give it to you.” The squirrels ran off to beg from another park bench sitter who had peanuts.
Sam’s thoughts went back to what she should do with her time now.
A man strolled by with a folded newspaper under his arm. He stopped and said, “I’ve finished with my newspaper and I‘m only going to throw it in the trash. Would you like to have it?”
“Why yes, thank you.” She reached out for the newspaper he held out to her. Samantha sat and read the paper starting with the local news, then moving to the job section. However, nothing fit her qualifications. She moved on to an ad for a vacation cruise and stopped. A vacation, in a whisper her inner voice repeated the word. I haven’t had a vacation since before my mom died, and I still have the little bit of money she’d left me. I’d put it in the bank for emergencies, and almost forgot about it. She smiled and the thought brightened the day. Yes, a vacation, that’s just what I need.
I’ll just get in the car and go. I’ll have no specific destination, just stop when some place looks interesting. Then leave when I get bored and move on to the next town. Yes, that sounds like a fun vacation. She nodded to herself. Since I don’t have a job to rush back to, I can stay as long as I like and really enjoy myself. Samantha felt a rush of excitement.
She packed two suitcases with summery clothes. Then, she went throughout the house unplugging everything electric. Threw out all perishables in the refrigerator, but reminded herself to leave the door ajar so the inside wouldn‘t get musty smelling. Then, at the last minute, she remembered to call to stop the newspaper.
She ran next door and told her neighbor old Mrs. Sawyer, she would be out of town for a while on vacation. However, Samantha made it clear that she wasn’t moving, she hadn’t ordered anything to be delivered, so if her good neighbor saw a truck back up to her door to call the police. That truck meant her house was being robbed. She’d heard talk that a house in the next block had been robbed last week while the homeowner was at work.
Sam didn’t have much of value however, what she did have she was attached to, and didn’t want some thief robbing her of it.
“Have a nice vacation and not to worry,” Mrs. Sawyer told her waving goodbye. “I’ll keep an eye on the place. Send me a post card of where you’re staying, I love seeing pictures of places I’ll never get to see.”
Samantha said she would and waving goodbye, she hopped in her car. “I’ll bring you back something pretty too,” she shouted from her open car window.
First, she stopped at the post office to stop the mail, then at a service station to fill the car’s gas tank. She had the oil and water checked and the air pressure in the tires. She thanked the service man and asked for a map, and then headed for Interstate 95. The sun shone brightly from a cloudless blue sky. Samantha pictured Mr. Sun smiling down at her, and took it as a good omen. She slipped on her sunglasses to shield her eyes against the sun’s glare. “Here we go,” she said humming a happy tune.
Chapter 2
Hearing voices
At the entrance to Interstate 95, Samantha pulled over to the side of the road to study the road map. Do I want to go north or south? I’ve always liked spur of the moment decisions, with nothing planned in advance. It’s more fun that way, and makes it more of an adventure. She looked at the map for a list of places to see in the great state of South Carolina. The list talked about a tiny coastal fishing village south of here, appropriately named, Village by the Bay. It was near Charleston, South Carolina. A small fishing village, that sounds interesting. Okay, south it is, and I hope they have some young handsome fishermen there who aren’t grizzled looking old men.
She’d always loved the sea, and her collection of seashells lined up on the top shelf of her bookcase proves it. Just dusting them brought back happy memories. As a child on a visit to the beach with her parents, she’d found a large conch shell. When she held it up to her ear, she felt a rush of excitement. She could hear the roar of the ocean, and the waves crashing on the beach. When she returned home, all she had to do was put the shell up to her ear to remember that happy trip to the beach.
She remembered the seagulls flying overhead looking for any morsels to eat that the waves might wash in. As a child, she’d fed the seagull’s bread and popcorn, throwing it up in the air for them to swoop down and catch. There were always a few brave gulls that would take the bread out of her up reached fingers. Then there were those that hung back afraid to come close. She threw treats to them and hoped they could at least grab one before the braver, greedier birds dashed forward and snatched them up. Way in the back of the group and standing off to himself, she’d remembered one gull with a broken leg, he’d try to get a piece of bread but was unsuccessful each time she threw it to him, the other gulls beat him to it. She felt sorry for the gull but there was nothing she could do for him. Gimpy as she called him, and he continually came to mind as she drove. She guessed it was because he was a part of the beach, and that’s where she was going, back to the beach.
As she drove, she watched the trees along interstate 95 begin to change to limbs hung with gray Spanish moss. Spooky looking some said, and they were sure ghosts danced in the moonlight among those moss-hung trees. If anyone walked past, the ghosts hid behind the huge ancient tree trunks until the intruder passed, before continuing their ghostly dance. Sam felt chills running up her spine just thinking about being caught alone in the night with those ghostly looking trees.
Samantha pushed away the ghost thoughts and, marveled at how life can turn a corner in a matter of seconds. One minute she has to watch her pennies, the next she’s gifted with three months pay, and free time to enjoy herself.
Now, she’s traveling to a seaside South Carolina fishing village on a spur of the moment vacation, with no time limits. She can stay as long as she likes. At least as long as her money holds out she reminded herself. If Village by the Bay turns out to look boring, before stopping again she’ll move on further south to some place on down the road that looks exciting.
Could life get any sweeter? She felt as if she’d have a permanent smile on her face from now on. Maybe on this vacation she’d meet her dream man. The one she could make plans with for a future together. She pictured a tall-man with rippling muscles that could sweep her up in his arms and carry her away as if she weighted nothing. He would have laughing blue eyes like deep pools of water. Dark wavy hair and of course living by the sea, he would certainly have a golden beach tan. She sighed, yeah right, impossible dreams.
Mandy Franklin, her office co-worker and best friend kept telling her, “Sam, you’re way too choosy.”
That reminded Sam, when she got where she was going, she would need to call and tell Mandy of her sudden plans to travel Little Mandy, her head only came up to Sam’s shoulder, and co-workers seeing them walking together called them Mutt and Jeff from the old comic strips.
Mandy said, “There were too many syllables in Samantha’s name. Her tongue got twisted, so she’d shortened it to just Sam.”
Samantha didn’t mind the name change. She rather liked the name Sam even though it was masculine sounding.
As she drove through the moss-hung trees, her mind wandered. Samantha could just hear Mandy now.
“And just what was wrong with that guy?” she would say with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows knitted together in disgust. “He was easy on the eyes and he seemed to have fallen hard for you. He even owns his own condominium in downtown Columbia. That’s a really nice part of town,” she added. “From his windows you can even see the State House and the flags flying on the dome. Remember we went to a catered New Years Eve party at his place. We all got in his van from work and drove there. He’s a nice guy, and he threw a great party too.
“Also, his weekends are free since he has no x-wife or children to take up his time. In addition, he has no parents to take care of because they have passed away in an accident a couple of years ago. How much more could you ask for? All of his attention would be showered on you Sam. Hello, I just had a thought; if you don’t want Mr. Nice Guy, do you mind if I go after him?” Mandy pleaded with her hands steepled in prayer under her chin. “I’ll take that Mr. Nice Guy if you don‘t want him.”
“Mandy, if you want him he’s yours. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way.” Samantha shuddered. “To think about having to live with it the rest of my life, I couldn’t, I just couldn’t.”
“What do you think is wrong with him? He looks good to me. What are you looking for in a man?” Mandy questioned, tilted her head a little sideways, and waiting for Samantha to explain, with she hoped, an explanation that wouldn’t turn her against him too.
“I don’t know just what it is however, I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it. I’m not going to tie myself down with a selfish, self-centered, in love with his self-guy, just to say I have a man. I’m not that hard up. Yet.
“The last one I dated checked his reflection in every store window we passed on MainStreet to make sure every hair was in place. I had to stop to wait for him to catch up. I cut him loose after he spent a couple nights at my place. When I learned I’d have to fight for my turn in front of the bathroom mirror every morning, I decided he can stay home and primp in front of his own mirror, not mine.”
Mandy nodded. “That would be a pain.”
Mandy says, “I need a man,” she remembered while checking a group of road signs for one that might say how many more miles it was to Village by the Bay. Well, to make Mandy happy, maybe I’ll bring a man home with me from this vacation. Who knows? She reminded herself again to call Mandy as soon as she checked into a hotel, and let her know of her sudden plans to travel.
Samantha never lacked for suitors. Men seemed to flock to her. She was young, very attractive, and tall with a model’s figure. She’d taken modeling lessons as a teen so she knew how to walk and carry herself. Her hair was dark auburn and hung just below her shoulders in natural waves. Her eyes, a deep blue like dark pools of water where if a man wasn’t careful, he could drown. She had a sprinkle of freckles across her nose that her father always said, “that’s where the fairies kissed her when she was a baby.” That was a nice memory she thought. She always pictured Tinker Bell with her butterfly wings, flitting around her baby face and then landing on her nose to give it a kiss.
Smiling at the memories, she jerked herself back to the task at hand. After two hours of driving on the highway, she pulled into the gas pumps at a truck stop. As she was pumping, she saw people through the windows inside the restaurant eating and raising coffee cups and glasses of amber colored tea to their lips. Samantha realized that since early this morning, she hadn’t eaten anything but and a cup of black coffee and that one lone bagel smeared with cream cheese. Here it was nearly five in the afternoon. Her stomach growled in protest. No wonder she was hungry.
After paying for the gas, she asked the station attendant, “How many more miles to a place called, Village by the Bay?”
The young man with a smear of black grease across his cheek and another under his nose, and badly needing a haircut told her, “You should get there before dark. Maybe,” he was silent a few moments while estimating the distance. “It’s another thirty miles or so. Not that far.”
“Thanks.” If it’s that close Samantha thought to herself. I’ll wait until I get there and find a good restaurant instead of eating in this greasy spoon, and risk food poisoning. Not when I have a wonderful adventure spread out before me. She turned the radio on and surfed for a music station to break the monotony, finally stopping on an oldie station playing old World War 11 songs. She kept time with the music by tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.
Samantha took her foot off the gas when she came to the sign, Welcome to Village by the Bay. Below the words was a picture of shrimp boats tied up against a long wharf, with the evening sun setting in the background. Looks like a paradise to me, she said. I hope it really looks like that. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, just like in the picture on the welcome sign.
The gravel crunched under her tires when Samantha pulled into a parking space in front of the Bay Restaurant. The lights through the window looked inviting and gave Samantha a warm welcoming feeling. It looks like a safe little town but it’s best to be safe than sorry and lose my luggage to a thief. Before she closed and locked her car door, she threw her car’s afghan over the suitcases. Stop worrying, she ordered herself. At the thought of the adventure ahead of her, a thrill of excitement raced through her.
As she walked up to the restaurant’s entrance, she glanced up at a speaker above the door that was playing soft music.
An old timer holding a pipe in his crooked arthritic ruined fingers sat on a bench against the wall and greeted her politely. He had a German shepherd dog with him that was sleeping under the bench. The dog raised his head and looked at Sam then, deciding she wasn’t a threat, he closed his eyes, snuffled loudly, and went back to sleep.
“Evening Mum,” the old man greeted Sam. “It’s going to be a clear night with a full moon and a sky full of stars. Enjoy it.”
Samantha nodded glancing up at the rising moon and the first star of the evening.
She caught a whiff of his tobacco on the warm evening breeze blowing her way. The scent was familiar and she was sure the brand was Union Leader. Her grandfather had smoked that brand, and she remembered seeing a line of empty red tobacco cans hanging by nails on his garage wall. He used them to store nails, screws, bolts and nuts and any junk parts that had no other place to go. He usually found something he could use by digging around in those red cans.
It had been many years since he’d passed away however; you never forget a scent no matter how many years it’s been until it drifts under your nose again. You remember it; it’s locked there in your memory forever.
“Yes,” she smiled at the old sea captain. “It is going to be a nice evening.”
After a good meal of tender roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, string beans, a basket of flaky light brown biscuits and a large glass of cold sweet tea, she motioned for the bill and tossed a few dollars on the table for a tip. She thought she’d better be generous, since she didn’t know how often she might eat here before moving on to the next tourist town, or getting bored with traveling alone, go back home to Carlson and search for a job.
During the drive here, she’d thought about inviting Mandy to come with her. However, when they were leaving the office for the last time, Mandy mentioned she would go visit her family in Augusta, Georgia and look for a job there. She felt she wanted to be close to her family for a while. She missed them terribly. Mandy said with her eyes misting. “She would stay in touch with Sam by email if nothing else.”
There was no need trying to do any sight seeing now since it was dark outside. She was tired anyway. It had been a long day and Sam looked forward to crawling between cool clean sheets, and getting a good night’s sleep. She decided there was time enough tomorrow to go exploring. As Sam paid her bill she asked, “Molly,” calling her by the name on the tag pinned to her uniform. “Can you point me to a clean hotel where I can get a room for the night?” Sam noticed how at this time of day the waitress looked tired and ready to climb in bed herself. Her makeup was gone, her mascara smeared, and her lipstick had long since been licked away.
“There aren’t any hotels in this tiny town however there is the Bay Village Bed and Breakfaston the street behind this one. It’s clean and Mrs. Ross will treat you right. She treats everyone like she’s his or her mother. Oh, and they make a great breakfast. Tell Mrs. Ross that Molly sent you. Tell you what, I’ll give her a call and tell her you’re on your way.”
“Oh, if you decide to stay in the village awhile and you get tired of the bed and breakfast, about two miles out of town on the Coast Road there’s an old mansion called, Mariner’s Rest. It was sold and turned into and inn awhile back after the old sea captain who built the house had a heart attack and died. It’s a beautiful place and right on the oceanfront. I went out there a month or so ago on my day off and had lunch, just curious to get a look at the place after it was remodeled. I walked around the grounds and then sat in a rocker on the front porch to look out over the water. It was so peaceful just sitting there I hated to leave and come back to my dreary life as a waitress. Some day, I’ll rent a room just so I can see the upstairs bedrooms.”
Curious herself Samantha asked, “Did the old captain have children he could have left the place to?”
“The word is years ago he had a daughter and two sons. The youngest son Charles was lost at sea when his shrimp boat went down during a freak storm. Nothing was ever found.” She leaned in and in a low voice so a nearby customer couldn’t hear, told Samantha, “It’s thought by the town’s people that the young Charles is haunting the old mansion. There have been reports of strange sightings there. People have seen a young man standing on the top of the wooden walk built over the dunes. They said he stands there looking out to sea. He was described as looking like the old captain’s son, Charles Mariner. Then the man just fades away, like steam evaporating into the air.
“The old captain’s wife, daughter and the oldest son died in a flu epidemic that swept through the town and killed off many of the residents. If you like old cemeteries the one in town is a great place to visit. The descendents put a lot of information on the stones about the occupants buried there.
When the old captain died, the family lawyer couldn’t find any family to inherit the property. The big house was sold and the new owner remodeled and turned it into a beachfront inn. I heard the proceeds from the sale of the big house were put into a bank account for safe keeping while he continued to search for an heir.”
“That’s awful.” Samantha commented. “It’s so sad to have three children and lose them all to tragedy. Knowing his entire family was gone probably hastened the old man‘s death.”
Molly agreed and began clearing the table and stacking the dishes on a large round tray. “Oh, when you see a shrimp boat tied up at the dock, you’ll know instantly if it was one of Captain Marnier’s old shrimp boats, or belonging to someone else.”
“How can you tell?” Sam looked curiously at Molly.
“Old Captain Marnier had a passion for carved ship’s figure heads. Those were common on old sailing ships. He thought they were the most beautiful woodcarvings he’d ever seen and practical too. He hired an old wood carver to carve one for the bow of each of his shrimp boats. The wood carver was from Gullah Island, that’s one of the islands off the coast of South Carolina; Captain Mariner ordered each one carved differently. The one that stands out most in my mind, is the woman with her face raised looking straight ahead watching the horizon for trouble. Her arms are straight at her sides and her hands are balled into fists like she‘s ready for a fight. Her hair is blond, long, and her painted locks are blowing in all directions by the wind. When I see it, I think of Medusa with her snakes for hair. If the wood carver had put snakeheads on the ends of each one of those long tendrils of hair, they could easily be snakes. In Greek mythology, Perseus beheaded Medusa as the legend goes.”
Samantha nodded. “That’s fine with me, I hate snakes. I remember something about the snakes from my English literature class in high school. You really know your Greek mythology Molly. I’ll have to watch for the figurehead shrimp boats. You say each one is different?”
“Yes, and now a different owner captains each one. The old man sold them off after his son Charles disappeared in that terrible storm. With his bad heart, he was too old to continue running the business, and now that his last son was gone there was no point in keeping the boats.”
“You have a car don’t you? Of course you do. How else did you get here?” Molly chuckled, in an effort to restart her tired over-worked brain; she smacked the side of her head with the heel of her hand.
Samantha nodded. “Yes, I have an old clunker that still gets me where I need to go.”
“I was going to say Mariner’s Rest has bicycles to rent so the guests can ride along the coast road. There is such beautiful scenery to see. Since I moved here from New York, I’ve grown to love South Carolina. I think its people are the friendliest in the world. When I first came here to Village by the Bay I almost drove right past without realizing there was a town here,” She laughed. Her laugh was light, almost a giggle.
“There was a very large, African woman selling handmade baskets. She was sitting on the side of the road under an oak tree hung with weird looking gray moss. Sweet grass baskets is what she called them. It’s beautiful workmanship. I don’t think I could ever make something as beautiful as that. I heard though I don’t know how true it is, however those basket makers risked being bitten by rattlesnakes when they went out into the marshes to cut the sweet grass for their baskets. Anyway, I stopped and asked her if she knew where Village by the Bay might be. She looked at me like I was nuts.”
“Laws honey child,” she said in this big booming voice. “You’re standing in it.” She waved her hand around.
“I looked around and behind me seeing nothing but the highway, and then I spotted the top of a church steeple peeking up over the trees. The highway passes behind the town and it’s hidden from sight by trees. Anyone who doesn’t know we’re here passes right on by.”
“I found a job right away here at the restaurant mostly used by the town’s people and local fishermen, and I’ve loved every minute of it. The pay is good so I’ve been here ever since. When a stranger happens in, it’s noticed by everyone. I’m sure by tomorrow night the whole town will know all about you, even down to the color of your eyes, so be prepared for prying questions.” Molly leaned in close. “Just checking the color of your eyes in case I’m asked.”
Samantha burst out laughing. “Is it really that bad?”
Molly nodded. “You’ll see.”
“This village sounds like a terrific place to spend a quiet vacation. I’ll definitely drive out tomorrow to look at Mariner’s Rest. That is, if nothing better comes along. However, I’ve decided I’m playing this vacation by ear with no plans and nothing to hurry me. When I get bored, I’ll hop in my car and move on to the next town which according to my map is, Isle of Palms.”
“No, no. We can’t let you leave yet. Go look at the inn; I know you’ll enjoy staying there. It’s a beautiful place.” Molly pushed her pencil in her blond locks held prisoner by a black hair net, and dropped her order book in the pocket of her stained apron, then went back to the task of clearing tables.
Sam rose and pushed her chair back under the table. “See you later Molly.” Samantha called over her shoulder.
“Look for what I told you about at Mariner’s Rest.” Molly called back to Sam. “If you see it, take notes. I want to hear all about it.” She didn’t want the other customers to hear her talking about a ghost.
“I will.” Sam nodded smiling. When she opened the door, the sea breeze rushed in and, brought with it, the scent of the old sea captain’s pipe tobacco.
It wasn’t often Samantha took an instant liking to someone, she always felt she should get to know a person first but, she liked Molly right away, and thought spending a day with her would be fun. Molly was a talker where Samantha was more of a listener so; there wouldn’t be any lulls in the conversation. Sam enjoyed hearing about the local history and customs of the village, the gossip too. Maybe she would ask Molly to join her for some fun later in the week. She waved goodbye to the old man still sitting on the bench as she started her car, and wondered if he was a permanent colorful figure in the village.
The Bay Bed and Breakfast was just as Molly described. Nicely furnished and clean. Mrs. Ross the owner, a white haired matronly woman wearing comfortable white nursing type shoes, came to the front of her small lobby. She was drying her hands on the white apron tied around her waist. Sam knew the apron was hand made because it was embroidered with purple and yellow pansies around the hem. Someone took a lot of patience with that.
“I’m so glad to meet you Miss Porter. Molly called and told me you were coming and for me to look after you. I know you’re going to enjoy your stay in our little village.”
She showed Samantha her room complete with a private bath, and told her to call down to the desk if she needed anything, she pointed to the phone by the bed. “Breakfast is served from seven until nine. Get a good night’s rest dear.” She laid the room key on the dresser and closed the door behind her, then opened it again quickly. “I just put the kettle on to heat, would you like a hot cup of tea?”
“No thanks Mrs. Ross. I’m still stuffed from dinner.”
After Samantha showered and slipped into a silky blue nightgown, she snuggled down between cool crisp white sheets that smelled faintly of lavender. After a few moments of lying quietly, thinking about the ghost Molly had told her about, her thoughts switched to what she might do tomorrow. Drifting off to sleep, she was ready to start her new life.
Sunlight streamed in her window heralding the beginning of the first full day of her vacation. She laid her arm across her eyes to block out the brightness, wanting just a few more minutes of delicious sleep. “Not yet,” she whispered. She didn’t often get to laze around in bed, especially a bed she didn’t have to make. She snuggled back under the covers and closed her eyes until still sleep drugged she remembered where she was. She wasn’t at home in her little house in the tiny town of Carlson, North Carolina. She didn’t have to dress to go into the office, or suffer through another boring day watching the clock, and waiting for quitting time.
She glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty, I haven’t slept this late on a weekday since before I graduated from college. She lay there a few moments longer listening to a dog barking somewhere nearby. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. In no hurry to dress, she stretched luxuriously but then smelling coffee, yes she could really use a cup.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and pulled a brush through her long auburn hair. Then she slipped on a pair of white slacks, an orange poker dot print blouse, and a pair of white sandals. Taking a second look at herself in the mirror, with her sleep-swollen eyes, she decided she was as presentable as she was ever going to get.
She hurried down to the dining room hoping she wasn’t too late for breakfast. Suddenly she felt famished. If she were too late for breakfast at the bed and breakfast, she would settle for just coffee and get something later at the Bay Restaurant. She didn’t want to cause Mrs. Ross any extra work because of her tardiness at coming down to breakfast.
“No dear, you’re not too late; first I’ll bring you some coffee. I would never let one of my guests leave hungry.”
Chapter 3
Raleigh Gallagher
“While you’re working on the coffee, I’ll have the cook fry you up a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast dripping with melting butter, oh and my homemade strawberry jam.” Mrs. Ross bustled around her and poured the coffee spilling a drop of the brown liquid on the starched white tablecloth.
“How did you sleep dear? Was the bed comfortable? Not to soft or too hard I hope.” She moved the salt, peppershaker, and napkin holder a little closer to Sam’s reach.
Sam took a paper napkin and dabbed at the drop of coffee before it could soak in the cloth and leave an ugly stain.
“The bed was just fine.” Sam assured her. “I fell asleep and didn’t hear or see anything until the sun woke me. I was really tired from the drive here.”
“I was afraid that barking dog might wake you. It belongs to old Captain Andrews. He‘s retired now and lonely so he and his dog spend most of their time sitting on a bench in the shade at the Bay Restaurant. His life now is talking with the customers as they come and go.” Mrs. Ross said.
“Oh yes, I saw him last night when I stopped in there for dinner. He was very pleasant and greeted me with a report of the evening’s weather. I thought that maybe he was the restaurant greeter, the way they do at the entrance of the big department stores.”
“I hadn’t thought of that however he does greet everyone when they come to the restaurant, and to see he doesn’t go hungry, Molly brings him a plate of something to eat and coffee everyday.” Mrs. Ross headed to the kitchen. “Breakfast will be out in a minute,” she called over her shoulder.