The Drifter (6 page)

W
ITHOUT ANOTHER WORD THE HOUSEKEEPER SWEPT OUT OF
the room, leaving Carolyn and Andy to stare openmouthed. After several seconds of silence, Andy finally cleared his throat.

“Well. I rest my case.”

“What did she mean?” Carolyn demanded. “What did she mean by that?”

“You're asking me?” Andy feigned surprise. “This is Nora we're talking about. If you want to interrogate her, do it on your own. But not by a full moon.”

“Are you afraid of her?” Carolyn asked incredulously, but Andy didn't seem at all bothered.

“Have you ever seen that movie with all those brides of Dracula?” he asked her. “
They
have eyes like Nora.”

“But she seemed really upset. I'd like to know why.”

Carolyn got up and crossed to the kitchen doorway, peering into the rooms beyond.

“I don't see her. Where'd she go?”

“Back in her web?” Andy suggested. “Hey, look.” He hopped lightly onto the counter and sat there, long legs swinging against the bottom cabinets. The knees of his jeans were ripped out, and his sneakers were torn and stained with mud. “The first thing you're gonna have to learn is not to let Nora's wild imagination get to you. Legends are great for the tourists, but not to live with on a day-to-day basis.”

“Oh, I get it. You believe in vampires, but not in ghosts. That makes a lot of sense.”

Andy remained unruffled. “I realize you're trying to be Nora's good pal and all that, but hey—consider the
source!
”

Carolyn was only half listening. “Nora said something about drowned sailors. Drowned sailors calling—”

“Their own names,” Andy finished. He jumped down, crossed the room in two easy strides, and poured himself some coffee. “Supposedly they call out their own names when they want the help of the living.”

“And what can the living do?”

Andy shrugged and took milk from the refrigerator. He poured a thin stream into his cup before he answered.

“Help them find eternal rest.”

“And how can they do that?”

“How should I know? I don't make up these legends.” Andy boosted himself back onto the counter again and raised his cup to his lips. His blue eyes squinted mischievously at her over the rim.

“You're making that up,” Carolyn grumbled.

“Hey, I wouldn't do that.”

“And you don't really believe
that
story, either.” She lifted her chin indignantly while Andy grinned.

“One legend's as good as another, as far as I'm concerned. With all the rocks and cliffs along the coast, this has always been one of the most dangerous islands—put that with the wind and fog, there're only a few spots around here a boat can safely land. It's not the best atmosphere for happy endings, you know what I mean? So the island stories have lots of murders and suicides in them. Not to mention pirates … smugglers … hurricanes … shipwrecks … you name it, it's had them all.”

“So what,” she challenged him, “if none of them are true?”

Andy sipped his coffee. He gazed thoughtfully into his cup, and then he grinned.

“Ever hear of ghost lights?”

“No.” Carolyn poured herself some coffee and tried to sound bored.

“Lots of people claim they've seen them. Spooky lights glowing down along the water late at night. Some say it's a natural phenomenon—weird gases coming out of the rocks when the atmosphere's just right. But others say the lights are the souls of drowned sailors. And that the sailors can't rest till they're reunited with what they loved most in life.”

In spite of her coffee Carolyn shivered. “You're making fun of me. You don't believe it.”

“Hazel did. Nora does.”

“So you think I'm a crazy eccentric just like them.” Carolyn sniffed. “Thanks a lot.”

She went to the sink and rinsed her cup. Andy's grin widened.

“Pretty eyes,” he said.

“What?”

“I said,” he repeated, hopping lightly to his feet, “you have pretty eyes.”

Carolyn glanced at him, feeling a flush across her cheeks. “Stop it.”

“Come on, can't you take a compliment?”

“They're not pretty,” she said, flustered.

“They have that nice shape,” Andy went on, his own eyes sweeping her casually. “Kind of wide and innocent. Even though I bet you're not. Innocent, I mean. Not that you're wide, either. Actually, you're pretty tiny.”

Carolyn opened her mouth, but stopped short of an angry reply. Instead she laughed helplessly.

“I'm trying to be mad at you!”

“Don't try. You won't be able to do it.”

She flushed again and sat back down at the kitchen table, watching as he sat across from her.

“Well, I already know you're from Ohio,” Andy said amicably, scooting his chair sideways, crossing his long legs. “And I already know you're here for a business venture. But that's about all the information I've been able to dig up so far.”

“I don't know what else to tell you,” Carolyn said truthfully. “Hazel's really a long-lost relative on my mom's side of the family. My dad died suddenly, and then my mom found out she'd inherited this place. So we decided to come and … you know … start over.”

She glanced up into his blue eyes. This time when he smiled, there was unmistakable kindness.

“I'm sorry, Carolyn. This must be hard for you.”

“I hated to come,” she admitted. “But Mom really wanted to. So for her sake …”

To Carolyn's surprise Andy reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“Look, if there's anything I can do …”

She shook her head, not knowing what to say. “I didn't mean to go on like that. I hate it when people expect you to listen to all their problems.”

“I'm a good listener.”

He still had ahold of her hand. Carolyn fidgeted and tried to change the subject.

“So … do you get many tourists out here?” she asked, and Andy smoothly followed her lead, releasing her at last.

“Lots in the village. But on this side of the island …” He sighed and shook his head. “Have you had time to look around yet?”

“No. It was kind of late when we got in last night.”

“It's not Ohio, I'll tell you that. As a matter of fact, I don't think it'll be anything like you're used to.”

“That much I've figured out.” Carolyn gave a shudder. “It's so …
depressing
. The wind sounds so sad.”

“It never stops blowing,” Andy informed her. “Not out here, anyway, and some days you wonder if you'll ever see the sun again. It's always darker and colder—but beautiful, too, in its own way. A wild kind of freedom, I guess.”

“So you come out here often?”

“Only by water. When I take my boat out.”

“
Your
boat?”

He nodded and smiled. “I take tourists around. Another of my many odd jobs. Fishing … sightseeing … whatever. Or sometimes I just go by myself. To be alone. To think.”

“So is that all? Delivering groceries and riding around in your boat?” Carolyn tried to keep a straight face as Andy leaned toward her.

“No. Sometimes I go out. You know … on dates. With girls. Who aren't sarcastic.” He grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Everyone's saying you'll never pull this off, you know.”

“Pull what off?” Carolyn looked surprised.

“Making a profit off this place. Turning it into something … you know. Interesting.”

Carolyn sat straight in her chair. “They don't know us very well!
And
they underestimate our determination!”

“And just
who
do you think would ever come out here to stay?” Andy settled back again, a triumphant grin on his face. “It's too far away from anything except water.”

“Well … water lovers, then!” Carolyn blurted. “People who enjoy having a little privacy from the rest of the world. Like you in your little boat.”

Andy cracked up. As Carolyn realized she'd fallen into his trap, she didn't know whether to laugh or hit him. As if anticipating her second choice, Andy stretched to his full height and moved out into the parlor.

“It's freezing in here, Carolyn. You can't depend on Nora to keep the fire going—don't you know reptiles are cold-blooded?”

Before Carolyn could answer, he took down a box of matches from the mantel, then knelt on the hearth to rearrange the wood in the fireplace. Moments later smoke was curling up the chimney, and Carolyn held her hands gratefully to the flames.

“I know you think I'm silly,” she said at last, “but there really is something about this house that fascinates me.”

“Fascinates?” Andy teased. “Or scares?”

Carolyn didn't laugh. “I don't know … maybe a little of both.”

“Well, maybe if you're lucky, you'll manage to see a ghost or two while you're here.”

Carolyn stiffened. She opened her mouth to tell Andy about her nightmare, then changed her mind and gazed into the fire.

“Wouldn't there be something written about it somewhere?” she asked softly. “Old journals or newspaper articles or pictures or something?”

“What?”

“For”—Carolyn thought quickly—“for the brochure.”

Andy looked lost. “What brochure?”

“You know. For the house. For the guests.”

“Oh. Something to stir up tourism.” He glanced at her, thinking. “You might find something in the library.”

“There's a library?”

“Halfway up Main Street. I don't know how good it is, though.”

“You've never been there?”

“I don't have time to read.” He looked shocked. “I'm too busy delivering groceries and riding around in my little boat.”

In spite of herself, Carolyn laughed. She knelt beside him on the hearth and leaned in close to the crackling flames. Overhead the ceiling creaked softly as Nora's precise, measured steps went back and forth between the upstairs rooms. Andy cocked his head, jerking his chin toward the floor above them.

“So you're keeping Nora.”

“Mom wants to.” Carolyn sighed. “She'll need help once I start school, and Nora's worked here so long, Mom didn't feel it was right to let her go.”

“How do
you
feel about it?”

Carolyn hesitated before she spoke. “Andy, what Nora said earlier—about how Hazel died—”

“Oh, come on now. I told you, everyone knows Nora's crazy.”

“But what if she's not? She said Hazel was
killed
. And she talked as if she knew who did it.”

“If you're gonna start listening to Nora's gloom and doom, you'd better pack up and move right back to Ohio, 'cause she'll have you spooked in no time.” Andy raised an eyebrow, his tone suddenly serious. “Hazel died from the cold. Doc Brown thinks she must have lost her balance, and when she fell she couldn't get back up again. She'd been lying out there all night in the wind and rain, and she was old. That's all there is to it. Nora's just trying to get to you. She's never gonna accept the fact that you and your mom are living here now instead of Hazel.”

Carolyn was quiet a long moment. “She really loved her, didn't she?”

“Loved her?” Andy made a sound in his throat and concentrated on tossing more kindling into the fire. “One thing you can say about Nora. When she's committed to something, she's extremely dedicated.”

“Poor thing,” Carolyn murmured. “Maybe it's a good thing Mom kept her. She's probably so lonely now.”

Andy leaned over and ruffled her hair.

“Got to go. Don't want to wear out my welcome.”

He stood and went to the door, and Carolyn jumped up to follow.

“Wait,” she called after him. “Do you know which room it was?”

Andy looked blank. He opened the door, hunching his shoulders against a blast of raw wind. “Did I miss part of this conversation?”

“The murder,” Carolyn said. “Which room was it in?”

Andy hesitated. Then he slowly crooked his finger, motioning her to come closer. As she came up beside him, he leaned over and lowered his voice.

“Which room are you sleeping in?”

Carolyn's eyes widened. “The room to the left of the stairs. On the second floor.”

“That's it, then.” Andy nodded solemnly. “I'm sure that's the room where everyone got slaughtered.”

“Andy—” Carolyn began in exasperation, but he put a finger to her lips and shook his head.

“Repeat after me. Nora is a fiend. I will not listen to Nora's stories ever, ever again.”

He laughed as he hopped off the porch and hurried to his car.

And even though Carolyn slammed the door after him, something cold and sinister hung in the air, as though an uninvited guest had entered and decided to stay.

7

F
OR A LONG TIME
C
AROLYN STOOD THERE.