The Things I Do For You (34 page)

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Authors: Mary Carter

BOOK: The Things I Do For You
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“Elizabeth?” She whirled around. Bailey stepped into the room. Elizabeth was holding a man’s wallet. A driver’s license was dumped on the bed. It was a picture of Captain Jack. Elizabeth brushed past Bailey and quickly closed the door. “What are you doing?” Bailey asked even though it was pretty obvious.
“Look,” Elizabeth said. She pointed at the license. “Edgar. No wonder he wouldn’t tell anyone his name.”
“Edgar?” Bailey said. She picked up the license. Sure enough, there was Captain Jack’s face. Edgar Penwell, the name read. “Oh my God,” Bailey said. She looked at the rest of the items strewn on the bed. Photos. Of Angel and Jake, and Angel and “Edgar,” and Jake and Edgar. But it was one particular photo that drew Bailey’s attention. Angel in a wedding dress. Standing next to Jake in a tux.
So that explains the impression of a ring on her finger,
Bailey thought.
Good catch, Jesse.
Bailey picked up the wedding photo and turned it over. Mr. and Mrs. Jake Penwell. Bailey looked at Elizabeth. Her eyes were clear, her posture steady.
“You pretended to be drunk,” Bailey said. Elizabeth shrugged.
“I’ve certainly had enough practice.”
“And when you spilled the drink?”
Elizabeth wiggled her fingers. “He didn’t even feel it slipping out of his pocket.”
“You shouldn’t have done this—”
“I did it for you.”
“Me?”
“You said you were dying to know his name.”
“Since when have you ever done anything for me? Or Brad, for that matter?” Bailey knew it wasn’t the time to start a family fight. They had to get this wallet back to Captain Jack—Edgar—and she had to sit somewhere and think about what this all meant. Tall, the ghost was tall. Bailey hurriedly put everything back into the wallet.
“Go back downstairs,” she said. “And act as normal as possible.”
“I can put it back—”
“No,” Bailey said. “Not yet. Please, Elizabeth. Not a word.”
“Fine.”
“And you’re still going to have to act a little drunk.” Bailey felt guilty—it would continue to hurt Brad—but she couldn’t take the chance that the captain would get suspicious.
“What’s with you?” Elizabeth said. “Do you recognize the name?” Elizabeth hadn’t been around enough to put any of it together. Jake and Angel Penwell. Nor, of course, did she know about Trevor Penwell or his supposed wife Edga.
“I can’t explain anything now,” Bailey said. Even if she wanted to. “Trust me. I need you to go back downstairs and keep him occupied.”
“Not a problem,” Elizabeth said. Before Bailey’s eyes, she suddenly became inebriated again. She stumbled to the door. For a split second she straightened up and grinned. “How’s that?” she said. Bailey felt a little sick to her stomach.
“Perfect,” she admitted. “Don’t let any of them leave. Including Jake and Angel.”
“I doubt I’ll have to try very hard. Jake’s been looking at you like he’s a lion and you’re a tasty little gazelle.”
Bailey laughed.
I never thought I’d say this,
she thought,
but I kind of like this Elizabeth Jordan.
It didn’t last long.
“You have no clue, do you?” Elizabeth said softly. For a split second Bailey thought she was talking about Edgar, and Jake, and Angel. Then she realized she couldn’t have been.
“I have lots of clues,” Bailey said. “I just can’t put them all together.”
Elizabeth laughed and Bailey almost liked her again. “There’s a reason,” she said, “he won’t have a baby with you.”
And just like that, Bailey hated Elizabeth Jordan again. But Bailey didn’t have time to obsess on Elizabeth’s parting comment, or the pitying look on her face, or the ice-cold spear that stabbed Bailey when Elizabeth whispered the words. She wanted to convince herself that Elizabeth was just trying to upset her, but she could tell that Elizabeth was being truthful. She knew something about Brad. Brad who just squeezed her hand across the table and loved her out loud. Brad out in the rowboat, looking terrified.
Please, don’t believe a word she says
. But Elizabeth hadn’t looked vindictive, just sad. Bailey didn’t have time to ponder it anymore. She ran to the guest room where Jesse had spent the night.
Edga Penwell,
Bailey thought bitterly as she knelt down beside the dresser drawer. She’d fallen for it.
The lighthouse keeper’s wife. Went insane. You have the same look in your eye.
She was going to get the captain for this. She opened the drawer. There it was, wrapped in tissue paper. Bailey knew what she was going to find, even before she unwrapped the pieces. Most of all she was angry at herself for being so naïve. After all, the only “proof” she’d had that Edga existed was the obituary, a “report” from a blogger, and an old photo of a man and a woman. The obituary was the only thing that would have taken some time to fake, but it certainly wouldn’t have been impossible. Bailey suddenly remembered all the funny looks and silence from townspeople whenever she gently tried to bring up the subject of the late keeper’s wife. At the time she thought they just didn’t want to discuss the “tragedy.”
So Edga was really Edgar. And it didn’t seem likely that he’d ever tried to hang himself in the attic. And if he was a ghost, he was such a good one that Bailey was definitely going to cash in on him. So were he and Trevor lovers?
Bailey opened the tissue paper, and carefully inspected the broken pieces. Finally, she found it. A small sticker on the back of one piece.
Island Supplies
. He’d been behind it all. With a little help from Jake and Angel. Bailey had played right into his hands from the moment she stepped into the house and saw the obituary, then accepting the “contractor” he’d recommended while Brad started corresponding with a woman who had also had a near-death experience. Actually, Angel had joined the lighthouse committee right after the auction. The plan was in motion right after Captain Jack lost the bid. Now she knew the “who.” But why? What did they have to gain? Wishing you owned a certain piece of property was one thing. But who would go to these lengths to get it? And had they now given up? Was that why Jake and Angel were leaving? No wonder the ghost was so active last night. Captain Jack was getting desperate. Bailey had to talk to Brad and figure out why they were doing this. And then, of course, they would be left with the biggest question of all: What did they plan to do about it?
Chapter 35
B
ailey put Edgar’s wallet and the piece of urn with the Island Supplies tag into a bag and headed downstairs. Elizabeth had kept her word, and everyone was still on the patio, eating strawberry shortcake, drinking, and chatting. Now what? Should she call the Coast Guard? Turn the three of them in for breaking and entering and impersonating a ghost? Did she have enough proof? She could just see herself trying to talk to the Coast Guard.
He’s tall. He owns this broken urn. His name is really Edgar, and he’s a liar.
Not exactly fingerprints and DNA, now was it? She could at least kick them off the property and warn them never to come back. But not until she figured out why they were doing all of this, and she didn’t think coming out and asking them was going to be very productive.
She snuck past them and ran to the lighthouse tower. For now, she would tuck the wallet and urn away. Maybe she’d start with Jake. What a jerk. Coming onto her when he was married. Of course she was married too, but he was the one who was pushing it. Had that all been part of the act? They must think she was quite the fool. Bailey wanted to catch Brad’s eye as she snuck past but he was too busy hovering over Elizabeth, who was enjoying her drunken act a little too much. Bailey could hear her laughing across the lawn. Tree was the only one who noticed Bailey, and the partiers must have been refusing to give him scraps, for he abandoned his spot underneath the picnic table to follow Bailey.
Once up in the loft, Bailey tucked her “evidence” bag into the top of her dresser drawer. Wait. Anyone could get into it. She glanced at the top of the dresser where Brad had left the key to his upstairs desk. Where he kept his journals. She would not read them, she would not do that to him, she would simply lock the evidence away. Bailey took the key and climbed up to the Crow’s Nest. Once again, Tree whined from the steps.
She unlocked Brad’s bottom drawer. For a moment she just stared at the journals. She really wanted to look at them. Just one journal, just one page. If it had been anybody but Brad, she knew she would have. She wasn’t a perfect person, and she would have had a glance. But this was Brad. Her Brad. For him, she would lock all her temptation in a little box. She quickly threw the bag into the drawer and was about to shut it when she saw the envelope. It was wedged between journals. Something made her pull it out. Her name was on it.
Bailey
. It was Brad’s handwriting. Now what? Was she allowed to snoop into something that was addressed to her? Survey said: yes. She quickly put the envelope in her pocket, then shut and locked the drawer as fast as she could.
There. She didn’t read the journals. But she did have an envelope with her name on it in her pocket. Her heart was hammering as if she’d just done something she shouldn’t have.
“Good doggie,” she heard someone say from below. Bailey froze. It was Angel. Bailey crawled over to the opening and peered below. Angel held something out to Tree, and he immediately snatched it up and took it to the farthest corner of the room. A bone, no doubt. Angel looked around. Bailey had left the top drawer of the dresser slightly opened and Angel noticed it immediately. Bailey watched, shocked, as Angel walked right over to the drawer, opened it, and started pawing through it. Bailey wished she had a camera or her phone to snap a picture of the live evidence. What in the world was she looking for? Had Captain Jack—would she ever get used to calling him Edgar?—noticed his wallet missing and dispersed a team to find it?
Bailey was about to go downstairs and confront Angel when she spotted something shining. It was coming from underneath her locked armoire. She walked over and bent down. It was another one of the playing cards. The sun coming in through the porthole shined on the white edges, making it almost glow. When she stood back up, she was directly in front of the cabinet. A crawling sensation rippled up her spine. My God. This was it. Why hadn’t she realized it before? Bailey quickly turned the combination lock and opened the cabinet. The fourth-order Fresnel lens was still there lovingly restored and shined to a high polish by yours truly. The original. With its brass frame and beehive glass prisms, it was not only a piece of history, it was a work of art. Imagine, someone stuffing this up a chimney!
“Oh my God.” Bailey whipped around. Angel stood behind her, mouth open, arms reaching out as if the beehive lens before her was a long-lost child. “It’s really here,” Angel whispered.
“So this is what you’re after,” Bailey said. Angel looked completely awestruck. Whatever else she was, she wasn’t a poker player. It gave Bailey a new admiration for Olivia’s vacuous expression.
“I didn’t know it would be so beautiful,” Angel said. She was right. The green glass was exquisite.
“They actually used to pour whale oil in here,” Bailey said. But Angel didn’t seem interested in its historical properties.
“It’s been right here? All along?”
“No,” Bailey said. “It was hidden in the chimney.”
“Shit,” Angel said. “Jake was sure it was in the yard.” That explained the large holes everywhere.
“Why?” Bailey said. “Why do you want it so badly?”
“What?” Angel was distracted, still staring at the lens.
“Brad doesn’t even know I found it,” Bailey said. “It’s a surprise. For our one-year anniversary.”
“I thought you guys had been married since you were in diapers?”
“We met when we were ten—married less than nine—I meant the one-year mark since we opened this B-and-B—”
“Wait,” Angel said. “Brad doesn’t know?”
“Thus the meaning of surprise,” Bailey said.
“We’ll split it,” Angel said. “Just you and me.” A horrible image of the gorgeous lens, shattered, rose to Bailey’s mind.
“Split what?”
“You have no idea, do you?”
“I have a lot of ideas.”
Pushing you off the tower and treating you to a real near-death experience is one
. “Just not sure which one you happen to be referring to right now.”
“An original Fresnel lens. It’s worth at least a quarter of a million,” Angel said. “Maybe more.”
Bailey turned and stared at it again. “Oh my God.”
“It’s our chance to get away!” Angel said. “Nobody has to know.”
“Not so happily married to Jake, I take it,” Bailey said.
“Marriage sucks,” Angel said. “You know yourself.”
“Actually,” Bailey said. “I wouldn’t trade mine for anything in the world. Not even this.” Bailey gestured to the lens.
“Fine,” Angel said. “Then you keep Brad and give the lens to me.”
“You’re insane,” Bailey said. “It belongs to the lighthouse.”
“Now you sound like Trevor,” Angel said.
“He refused to sell the lens too,” Bailey surmised.
“If he would have just gone with the plan. But no.
It belongs to the lighthouse
. What is with you people?”
“Were he and Edgar lovers?” Bailey asked.
“What?” Angel sounded appalled.
“Obviously there was no Edga Penwell, so he and Trevor—”
Angel slapped her hands over her mouth. “Ewww,” she said.
“That’s very homophobic of you,” Bailey said.
“Not ewww because you suggested they were gay. Ewww because they were brothers. He made the Edga stuff up just to scare you.”
“When did Trevor find the light?”
“A few months before the auction,” Angel said. “It was just lying in the first floor of the tower. Discarded along with seagull carcasses. Trevor did a lot of work restoring it. Labor of love, he called it.”
“I can see why,” Bailey said. “So Trevor knew it belonged to the lighthouse. But Jack—Edgar—just wanted to sell it.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “Who cares about a stupid old lighthouse anyway? They’re history. Useless. Uh, hello, GPS!”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Bailey said. “But some things are worth preserving.”
“And sometimes you have to know when to let go,” Angel said. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out by now.” Angel took a step closer to Bailey. Tree began barking wildly at the base of the stairs.
“It weighs six hundred pounds,” Bailey said. “You can’t just take it.”
“Maybe not now,” Angel said. “But you’re the only one who knows it’s here.”
“How did Trevor die?” Bailey asked. She was trying to stall, and trying to figure out what to do, and trying to figure out exactly how frightened she should be. Were they all just thieves, or murderers too?
“You’ve seen too many movies,” Angel said. “Heart attack. Dropped dead right in here, as a matter of fact,” she said.
“Back up,” Bailey said.
“Or what?” Angel smiled and stood straighter. She didn’t look so angelic now. Footsteps sounded from below.
Please let it be Brad,
Bailey thought.
Please let it be Brad.
“Angel?”
“Up here, Jake,” Angel said. She stared at Bailey. “You had your chance,” she said.
“I was going to say the same thing to you,” Bailey said.
Jake’s head appeared in the opening. “Hey,” he said.
“You two should leave,” Bailey said. “Now.”
“What’s going on?” Jake said. He pulled himself up with ease. Angel pointed to the cabinet.
“Look,” she said.
“Holy shit,” Jake said. He reached out as if to touch it. Bailey threw her arm up and blocked him. Probably not very smart, initiating physical contact so soon, but she hated the thought of him touching it.
“I’d like you two to leave now,” Bailey said. To her surprise, Jake nodded. He reached for Angel’s hand. She didn’t take it.
“That’s it?” Angel said. “A year of our lives hanging around this concrete sponge-pad-lightbulb and you’re just going to give up?”
Now I can tell they’re married,
Bailey thought as she listened to Angel screech at Jake. “Concrete sponge-pad-lightbulb?” Bailey said.
Jake gave a soft smile. “That’s her nickname for the lighthouse,” he explained. “It’s very damp here.”
“I see,” Bailey said.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Jake said. “She has the lens, it’s over.”
“But Brad doesn’t know about the lens yet,” Angel said. “She was saving it for a surprise.” From below, Tree let out a series of little barks. Bailey wished he would just get over his fear and climb up the ladder already. She’d seen a television show once,
Dogs with Jobs
. They could climb ladders.
“I still don’t know what you want me to do,” Jake said.
“Make her give it to us,” Angel said. “It’s family property. Your family, not hers.”
“This lighthouse isn’t owned by individuals,” Bailey interjected. “You should know—you’re on the ‘committee.’ ” Bailey had to admit, it felt good to use air quotes and let just a little of her sarcasm fly.
“And didn’t that piss you off?” Angel said. “Your husband took your money—”
“I thought it was his money,” Jake said.
“They’re married,” Angel said. “It’s their money. How many freaking times do I have to explain that to you?” Jake shrugged. “As I was saying,” Angel said loudly, “he took your communal money, blew it on this concrete sponge-pad-lightbulb, and then turned it over to some stupid committee! What a winner you have in that one!”
Bailey was no longer afraid of Angel, no matter what she intended on doing. She walked right up to her and put her index finger in the middle of her chest, where she had to admit, she poked her just a little bit, and it felt good.
“Don’t you ever, ever talk about my husband like that again. Do you hear me?” Bailey turned away so she wouldn’t wrap her hands around Angel’s little neck. She pointed to the windows looking out over the river. “This is living history!” Bailey said. “It’s the dawning of America. It’s Indians naming the river. It’s Henry Hudson exploring. It’s George Washington, and the Civil War, and the Declaration of Independence, and the Erie Canal, and steamboats, and railroads, and Morse code—”
Bailey could feel herself getting worked up, almost feverish. But it was true. She understood what Brad had been trying to explain to her for the past year. This was a magical place. They were lucky to be its keepers. Jake at least seemed to be listening, so Bailey kept talking. “Lighthouses saved lives. Now I know your near-death experience was all a big hoax, but you know what? I feel sorry for you. Because ‘seeing the light’ is what allowed my husband to grasp what you seem to be incapable of grasping. There are some things in this life, this short, amazing little life, that matter. Who we are and where we come from is one of them. And this lighthouse is a symbol of that. And that lens isn’t your lottery ticket, it’s a treasure that belongs right here where people can appreciate it as long as humanly possible.”
Bailey heard clapping. Startled, she looked up. Brad was standing there, grinning. Thomas stood beside him, following Brad’s every move. She’d been so wrapped up in what she was saying, she didn’t even hear them coming up the steps. Wow. She was a tad disappointed. For a second she’d thought this was going to end a little more dramatically, i.e., Jake and Angel wrestling her out on the deck, trying to push her off the tower. Bailey ran to the cabinet and opened the doors so that he could see the lens. “Surprise,” she said. Brad stepped forward. Bailey beamed as if she’d given birth to the light herself. The look on his face was all the thanks she needed.

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