The Drifter (13 page)

Joss pulled back from Andy's door. He was standing in deep shadows where Carolyn couldn't see his face.

“Too bad,” Joss said softly. “Maybe some other time.”

“Count on it,” Andy replied.

He looked as if he was going to say more, but Joss never gave him the chance. In one fluid movement Joss was at Carolyn's side, taking her elbow and guiding her to the porch. Nora was standing there holding the door, and as Carolyn started in, she suddenly remembered something and ran back to the steps, waving her arms at the car.

“Andy, wait!”

She saw him slam on the brakes, saw him stretch his head out the window.

“Yeah?” he called.

“Do you know anything about a key?”

“What? I can't hear you!”

“A key!” Carolyn yelled. “I found
this key—
”

“No, it's not risky!” Andy yelled back. “I take the boat out at night all the time! See you tomorrow!”

“No, Andy—wait!”

But the taillights of Andy's car faded and disappeared.

And when Carolyn turned around, both Nora and Joss were standing beside the front door, waiting for her.

13

C
AROLYN SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, WATCHING
J
OSS
slice the meatloaf. Nora had gone, leaving them alone, and she thought wistfully of Andy. Joss rinsed his hands at the sink, then slid them over the back of his jeans to dry them off. He wasn't wearing the vest now—instead he had on a cable-knit sweater that was an offwhite color and several sizes too big.

“I see you got some clothes,” she said as he put the platter in front of her on the table.

“Nora found it for me.” He glanced up, and she felt the deep dark pull of his eyes. “I'm glad your mother's all right.” He sat down across from her and moved his chair closer. “With a fall like that … well. You never know.”

“How'd it happen?” Carolyn asked bluntly.

His eyes were calm upon her face.

“I don't know.”

“You weren't with her?” Carolyn persisted. “You didn't see her fall?”

“She'd gone upstairs to do some cleaning, and I was outside. When I came in, I called her, but she didn't answer. I started looking for her, and that's when I noticed some broken glass lying out in the hall. She must have lost her balance somehow and tipped the ladder over. It fell onto the dresser and broke the mirror—I guess that's how she hit her head and cut herself so bad.”

Carolyn cringed at his recollection. “Where was Nora all that time?”

“I don't know.”

He watched her a moment, then shook his head.

“I'm sorry. If I'd been with her, maybe it wouldn't have happened.”

Carolyn nodded slowly. She wanted to blame him—wanted to blame Nora—wanted most of all to blame herself. But instead she looked into his eyes and said, “You called for help. With everything going on around here, I never thanked you for that.”

“I just want her to get well.”

“The thing
she
wants most right now is to get this place in shape.” Carolyn sighed. “I know her. And once she starts feeling better, she'll be lying in the hospital thinking more about this stupid house than her own condition.”

She clenched her fists and held them tight against her forehead, trying to push back the headache pounding there.

“She was so excited about coming to the island—and I wasn't. She didn't have doubts about this place, but I did. This sure doesn't help my attitude any.”

He smiled then. His eyes, for a brief instant, seemed almost warm.

“Maybe having this accident will convince her to go back.”

“Mom? Are you kidding?” Carolyn sighed.

“Nora told me most people around here don't think the house is worth saving. Not worth putting a lot of time and money into—”

“And you agree with them, I suppose?” Carolyn almost snapped at him.

“I didn't say that.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “People don't understand my mom. When she has her heart set on something, there's no changing her mind. It'd take more than a fall to do that.”

He didn't answer right away. He pushed his fork slowly into his meat. He stared at it and said without looking up, “Your mother's a very strong woman.”

“Yes, she is.” Despite Carolyn's anger, a feeling of pride crept in, lessening the pain in her heart.

“You're very close.”

Carolyn nodded. “Especially since Dad died. We've had to lean on each other a lot.”

“She loves you very much, I know,” Joss went on quietly. For an instant his eyes lifted to her face. “If anything happened to you, she'd be devastated.”

Carolyn nodded, more to herself than to him. “I feel the same way about her.”

She stabbed at her potato, then put her fork down on her plate. Nothing looked good to her. She had no desire at all to eat.

“She said your name at the hospital,” Carolyn said, and Joss hesitated, his fork in midair.

“Did she?” he asked softly, and Carolyn nodded.

“She mentioned you and then she mentioned the paper and she also said ‘house.'” When he didn't respond, she gave a short laugh. “See, what'd I tell you? Even unconscious, she's still worrying about fixing this place up and getting it advertised.”

Silence fell between them. The house shuddered in the night wind, and even the quiet was filled with the sound of the sea.

“Tell me about the ghosts,” Joss said.

Carolyn glanced at him, startled. She saw him push his plate aside. He crossed his arms on the table and waited.

“Sorry?” Carolyn tried to sound casual, though her heart had taken a dive into her stomach. She put her glass down and smiled politely as though she hadn't heard.

“The ghosts,” Joss said again.

His long fingers drummed quietly against his sleeves. Carolyn noticed a cut on the back of one hand and the jagged line of dried blood.

“—in him?” Joss asked.

Carolyn jumped, her face flushing. “I—what?”

Joss's dark glance slid down to his hands, hesitated, then shifted back again to her face.

“Broken glass,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Carolyn blushed again and looked away.

“And what I asked was,” Joss repeated, “do you believe in them?”

“What—what ghosts are you talking about?” she stammered.

“Don't you know?”

His eyes settled calmly on her face, and though Carolyn still wasn't looking at him, she could
feel
those eyes—their power, their intensity—forcing her attention back again. Helplessly she returned his gaze. Her heart raced, and her mouth felt dry. She knew she couldn't look away now, even if she'd wanted to.

“But you must know,” Joss went on. “The ghosts of Glanton House. A captain, right? His wife? Her lover?”

Carolyn felt herself nod. “How … how do you know about that?”

“Nora,” he said simply. “She seems convinced the captain's hanging around. Or visiting from time to time, at any rate.”

“Then you believe in ghosts?”

“They have as much right here as we do. More, in fact.”

It wasn't the answer she'd expected—especially from him—and her eyes widened in surprise.

“What did Nora tell you about the captain?” she asked.

“She told me why he built the house and about his murder. She told me about Carolyn.”

Carolyn gave a wry smile. “Some coincidence, huh?”

“Your mother thinks you're taking all this too seriously,” Joss said. “She thinks you're scaring yourself.”

“She thinks I'm seeing and hearing things that aren't really there.” Carolyn was annoyed. “Just like Hazel did before she died. Don't you see the pattern?”

When Joss didn't answer, she leaned forward, her voice lowering urgently.

“The captain's wife and I have the same name.
I'm
seeing ghosts and Hazel saw ghosts. Both Hazel
and
Carolyn Glanton died—so am I wrong to feel a little paranoid?”

For a few minutes Joss stared at her. Then he reached across the table, his hand closing lightly over hers.

“Believing makes you vulnerable. Believing opens the door to strange and powerful things.”

For a minute Carolyn stared deep into his eyes, and then slowly she pulled back, sliding her hand free.

“So,” she said tightly, “what you're saying is that you agree with my mother.”

“That's not at all what I said.”

“That you think I'm making everything up—that you think I'm crazy—”

“What I'm saying,” Joss said firmly, “is that the more you believe in something, the more control it has over you. Control that could be dangerous.”

“You're not making any sense.” She stiffened back in her chair and glared at him. “You're patronizing me just like everyone else does, and to tell you the truth, I think your philosophy is really stupid.”

She got up from the table and rinsed her plate at the sink. She wiped her hands on the dish towel, then finally she turned back to face him.

“And another thing—”

She broke off and stared at Joss's empty chair.

Her glance went quickly around the room, but the kitchen was deserted.

“Joss?” Carolyn whispered.

She heard the sea crashing and the wailing of the wind.

She put her hands over her ears, but she couldn't shut them out.

Just like she couldn't ignore the house shivering around her … as though it feared some new tragedy yet to come.

14

T
HAT NIGHT
C
AROLYN LOCKED HER DOOR.

For a long time she stood against it, listening, not even sure what she was listening for.

The house lay huge and silent and secretive around her. She had just decided to turn in when suddenly she heard Joss's door creaking. A second later muffled footsteps moved slowly past her room, and something rattled at the end of the hall.

The locked door?

Is he trying to get into the attic?

The noises stopped, and Carolyn strained her ears through the silence. Part of her wanted to go out there and investigate—the other part couldn't even bring herself to open the bedroom door.
What's he doing?
To her growing uneasiness, she heard him retracing his steps, only this time it sounded as if he were pausing outside every bedroom along the way … going inside of it … coming back out again.

Like he's looking for something … but what?

She heard him go downstairs.

Holding her breath, Carolyn inched open her bedroom door and tried to listen as Joss made his way through the rooms below. Faint tapping sounds drifted up to her, and she could swear that things were being moved from time to time. At last his footsteps faded in the direction of the kitchen, and the cellar door opened and shut. And then the sounds stopped.

Feeling guilty, Carolyn pulled her door closed and berated herself for eavesdropping.
He's probably just working on something down there that needs fixing. He's probably just going over every inch of this old place like Mom asked him to, seeing what needs to be done
.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there. As time dragged on and he didn't come back, Carolyn finally gave up and got ready for bed.

She threw her jeans over the back of a chair, and the key fell out of her pocket, bouncing off the edge of the rug and onto the wooden floor. Carolyn picked it up and groaned softly. She'd wanted so much to ask Andy about it, but he hadn't understood what she was trying to tell him. Slowly she placed it on her nightstand and made herself a mental note.
Talk to him about it tomorrow
.

Her head swam with too many thoughts … too many unanswered questions. Faces and events ran together in a blur—
Joss's arrival … the trip to the village … Molly McClure … Mom's accident … the trip home from the hospital with Andy … Joss's comments in the kitchen
…