Stargazey Point (22 page)

She found a tablet and a grease pen. Wrote,
Brought your cam back. Got some interesting footage. Abbie.

She folded the note and tented it on top of the camera.

“You lookin’ for somethin?”

Abbie cut back a screech. “Who’s there?”

Ervina stepped into the doorway.

“Ervina, you startled me.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I was returning the camera. The twins were using it yesterday and left it at the gazebo. I was just leaving a note for Sarah.”

Ervina cackled a laugh. It sent gooseflesh up Abbie’s arms. Of course from what she’d seen of Ervina and what Sarah had told her, she was pretty sure that’s just what Ervina intended.

They stood looking each other over. Ervina wasn’t exactly short or tall, not even medium. It was hard to describe her, except her hair was gray and cornrowed close to her head. Her skin also had a grayish tinge. Old age or bad diet. She was dressed in an old housedress that buttoned up the front and was soft and nearly transparent with washing.

Abbie smiled. “Could you please tell Sarah I came by?”

“You not gonna get free if you keep acting this way.”

“What way?” The words escaped before she could stop them.

“You stuck.”

“Well. I’ll try harder.” She forced another smile and tried to squeeze past the old woman, who was blocking the doorway.

“Cain’t get there in a hurry.”

Abbie sighed. She knew Ervina wasn’t talking about her walk home, but Abbie had no intention of being the subject of her arcane folk wisdom.

“Good to see you.” And though she hadn’t seen Ervina move, the doorway was clear. “Bye.” Abbie stepped into the hallway and headed for the front door.

“Girl, you so busy lookin’ behind you, you cain’t see what’s up ahead.”

Abbie stopped, turned, gave Ervina a steely look. “That’s not what my therapist said.”

Ervina spit. “Man’s a fool.”

Abbie couldn’t agree more, but she wasn’t about to say so.

“The only person fixin’ you is gonna be you.”

Abbie gave up trying to escape. She sat down on the arm of a sagging easy chair. “I’m not doing such a good job of it.”

“No, you ain’t.” Ervina shuffled across the floor until she was standing in front of Abbie. She leaned over and squinted into Abbie’s eyes. “You holdin’ down that poor man’s soul with yo’ anger and yo’ grief. You need to let him go.”

Abbie was so stunned she could barely breathe. “It’s not like that. You can’t hold on to someone when he’s dead.”
But he can hold on to you.

“He don’t want’chu, girl,” Ervina said. “He’s got a better place he needs goin’ to. You’re bein’ selfish. Let him go to where he belongs.”

God, those betraying tears were building at the back of her eyes, just waiting to spill over.

“Let him. Go.” Ervina leaned even closer, reached out, and touched Beau’s star with one gnarled finger. “You won’t get lost.” She moved away. “Sarah’s here.” She shuffled to the door and opened it just as Sarah reached for the doorknob.

“Jeez, Granny E. What are you doing here?”

“Just came to have a talk. I’m goin’ home now.” And she went out the door.

Sarah saw Abbie sitting on the edge of the chair. “Oh, shit. Ervina’s been practicing her conjure, hasn’t she?”

“How—”

Sarah waved her hand. “I’ve seen that look on the faces of some of her other victims.”

Abbie ran a hand over her mouth. “I’m afraid she was pretty on target.”

“Yeah, she tends to be.”

“But you don’t believe in her . . . whatever you want to call it.”

“Gift? Powers? Bullshit? Hell, I don’t know. Actually I think it’s fascinating. Worthy of a dissertation; I just wish I wasn’t in line to inherit whatever it is.” She shuddered. “Okay, I just weirded myself out. What do you say we run over to Penny’s and have some lunch. Then we can discuss a proposition I have in mind.”

“Lunch sounds great. I’m not so sure about the proposition.”

“Hey, my kids painted your gazebo, you owe us.” Sarah grinned.

She was as sure of getting Abbie to agree as Ervina was about Abbie’s holding on to Werner. They were both right. It was time Abbie started looking forward.

“My treat,” Abbie said.

“Oh, no. Don’t think you can buy me off that easy.”

Abbie laughed. “Fine. You buy.”

“Dutch treat. Come on. We want to beat the after-church crowd.” Sarah led the way, stopping only to lock the front door.

“Your door was unlocked when I came this morning,” Abbie told her. “I left the video cam the twins were using in the media room.”

Sarah let out an over the top guffaw. “Media room. Love it.”

“Couldn’t you get a grant or something?”

Sarah gave her a look. “We’re trying to keep a low profile. Once you ask the government for something, they slap you with a bunch of rules and regulations so that it’s impossible to get anything done. We’d be building a handicap ramp, and hardwiring smoke detectors, filling out forms to get, then keep, our not-for-profit status, get regulated by a bunch of state politicians who never even heard of Stargazey Point much less give two shits about anything but bringing more tourism to South Carolina. And the kids get lost in the shuffle.”

“Feel strongly about this, do you?”

Sarah grinned. “Ya think? We’re content just to scratch along.”

They passed the carousel where sounds of a power saw whined from inside. “The Third is a workaholic. Least he’s doing something useful for a change.”

“What did he do before?” Abbie asked, hurrying to keep up with Sarah’s long stride. Sarah was a good six inches shorter, but she outdistanced Abbie with every step. “I mean I know he was an architect, but he really didn’t say what he designed. I guessed houses, since he spent the whole day pointing out architectural details on the historic homes of Georgetown.”

“He did that?” Sarah groaned. “The man’s an animal.”

“It wasn’t boring, if that’s what you mean.”

“We were hoping it moved to the more personal. Say maybe you liked him.”

“I did, I do. He’s very nice.” She did like him; it was disconcerting how much she liked him.

“Oh, gack. The man needs a love interest. We live in constant dread of Bailey having a change of heart and moving here. There’s only room for one witch in this town. And Ervina’s got that sewn up. That only leaves bitch, and we sure as hell don’t need any more of those. But to answer your question . . .”

Abbie laughed. “Please do.”

“Convention centers, hotels, shopping complexes, sports arenas.”

“The Third?”

Sarah nodded, tightening her mouth, which created dimples in each cheek. “A sad commentary on a bright mind. Fortunately he saw the evil of his ways and dumped it all for no money, no fiancée, and no job security.”

“That takes guts,” Abbie said. She’d had him pegged all wrong. She’d always prided herself on her ability to see the real person. She’d missed big-time on Cab Reynolds.

“I guess.”

“You don’t sound too impressed.”

“Well, it’s not like he gave up something that could change the world. Just making a bunch of money for cluttering the country with surplus buildings.”

“Still, it’s something he’d obviously had to spend years training for. And—” Abbie took a breath. “It’s not so easy to change the world.”

Penny’s was already half filled, but they managed to get a table in the corner. Abbie was surprised to see Bethanne waitressing.

“She helps Penny out on the weekends in the off-season and during the season, Penny makes the pastry for the inn’s dining room.”

“A win-win relationship,” Abbie said.

Bethanne plunked down menus. “The spinach artichoke quiche is to die for.”

“Works for me,” Abbie said. “And a double latte.”

“Make it two, but I’ll just have seltzer with lime.” Sarah handed back the two paper menus.

“I was talking to Penny about the gazebo,” Bethanne said, before scurrying away.

“What about the gazebo?” Sarah asked. “No. Wait. Let me guess. Weddings by the Sea.”

“She thought the gazebo would be a perfect venue.”

“Right. Like Miss Millie would go for—” Sarah took a breath and drawled, “Openin’ the house to the puh-blic. Nev-uh.”

“And they would have to, wouldn’t they?” asked Abbie. “You’d need more than a gazebo. Like dressing rooms and a place for catering and a backup plan in case of rain?”

“Beats me, I’m more of a theoretical kind of girl. Can we forget weddings for a sec? I want to talk about something else.”

Abbie braced herself. Cab must have told Sarah about her background; why else would Sarah have sent the kids down to “document” the gazebo being painted? Maybe Sarah had even looked on the Internet herself. There was no way to get around it anymore.

“I suppose you want to know what happened in Peru.”

Sarah snorted. “Nah, twenty seconds of you digging in the mud was enough for this lifetime. Don’t say anything; here comes Bethanne, and tears will flow.”

Bethanne placed their plates and drinks on the table. “Anything else?”

“Nope, but that corner table over there is trying to get your attention.”

“Yell if you need anything else.” She hurried over to them.

Abbie cut into her quiche. The pastry was flaky, and the quiche was golden and delicious. The accompanying salad was simple, a perfect accompaniment to a light lunch and so fresh that Abbie guessed Penny had her own garden nearby.

“Here’s my proposal,” Sarah said between mouthfuls. “You’re on vacation, I know. But I could use some help.” She held up a preemptory hand. “You can do vacation things all morning, and then come in and give me a hand in the afternoons.

“I’m trying to get these kids interested in doing something besides getting into trouble or contemplating their navels. But I’m kind of winging it here. And I can’t be everywhere at once. I got two kids I’m trying to get into college. One of them is Jerome, the other a girl named Talia. Forms, forms, and more forms. Trips to Beaufort. Letters to Columbia—the state capital not the university. And I actually do have my own work, not that I’ve been doing any of it. I could use some backup.”

“What about Bethanne or Ervina?”

“God, no. Besides, you’re new. Being from the outside carries a certain cachet. I want to make use of you while you’re still an oddity.”

Abbie laughed. “Thanks a lot. I’ll think about it. Okay?”

“Better than nothing. But don’t take too long. ”

By the time they finished, the tearoom was filled, and there was a line waiting to get in.

“This is great,” Abbie said. “I was afraid Stargazey Point was on its way to being a ghost town.”

“Could still happen, but we’ve managed to hobble along from one summer to the next. So far anyway.”

They paid the bill. Sarah insisted on paying. “You can drop Cab’s lunch off on our way back, I gotta meet up with Talia.”

“What lunch?”

Penny came out of the kitchen, holding a paper bag aloft. “Don’t forget Cab’s lunch.”

Abbie took the bag, and they edged past the waiting crowd toward the front door. The day had turned overcast while they’d been inside.

“April showers,” Sarah informed her. “Are like none you’ve ever seen before.”

“I’ve been in the rain forest, remember.”

“Right. Well, looks like you might be meeting the low-country version of them before the afternoon’s out.”

The cutoff Chevy was parked in front of the community center. A young guy with orange-red hair was sitting on the hood. Abbie had gotten a glimpse of him her first day in town.

He jumped down when he saw them.

Sarah lifted her eyes to the sky. “Oh, God, what does he want?”

“Talia has to stay home and babysit. I told her I’d come get you and bring you on over there.”

“Damn. Okay. Let me go get my books and leave a note. You got a top for that crate?”

“Got a piece of plastic if it rains. You wanna ride or not?”

Sarah took off toward the center.

“Hi, I’m Otis. You must be Abbie.”

“Yep. Nice to meet you, Otis. Well, I have to go drop this off. See you later.”

She walked toward the carousel, but stopped at the door and listened. The skill saw had stopped, but another machine had taken its place. She knocked, then realizing no one would be able to hear her, she pulled the door open and went inside.

Chapter 15

C
ab was leaning over a plank of wood that was balanced between two sawhorses. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. The single work light above his head cast his body into deep contrast and defined the muscles of his back and arms as he ran the sander the length of the wood.

He looked strong and powerful and lean and agile at the same time. A little thrill swept through Abbie, a treacherous, betraying thrill, and she recoiled. How could she even be having these feelings? It was too soon.

Castigating herself, she marched forward to hand over the sandwich and get the hell out.

He lifted his head and, seeing her, broke into a smile. He cut off the sander and stood up.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Sarah asked me to bring your lunch. I was just on my way back to Crispin House.” Abbie thrust the bag at him. Noticed the tremor in her fingers.