Tidewater Inn (10 page)

Maybe around back she would be protected from the wind enough to climb. Sloshing through the flood, she hurried to the rear. A plastic five-gallon bucket floated in the water. She upended it, then stepped on its bottom and managed to grasp the low roof. As she hauled herself up, the wind hit her again, driving stinging water into her face.

She wasn't going to survive this. Pushing the thought away, she swung one leg onto the roof. She got the other leg up too and lay gasping on the splintered surface with the wind trying to dislodge her. She forced her fingers and toes into every crevice she could find, but it took every bit of strength she possessed to stay atop the shack.

She pressed her face into the shingles and held on. If she fell again, she didn't think she would have the strength to climb, or to survive the night in the water.

Tidewater Inn seemed to shrug off the effects of the wind, though the storm howled mightily in rage at the way the inn withstood its power. Libby huddled under an afghan on the armchair in the parlor. Mr. McEwan seemed oblivious to the danger as he sat drinking his coffee and eating Delilah's fresh-baked cookies. The roar outside made her shudder. Where was Nicole in all this? Libby could only hope and pray she was all right.

Delilah flipped off the television. “The rain has messed up the satellite signal,” she said. “Would you like some cookies, Libby?”

“No thanks.”

“I'm always hungry when I'm nervous.” Delilah headed toward the kitchen.

Libby rose and paced the Oriental rug that covered the oak floor.
Please, God, don't let Nicole be in any danger from this storm. Let us find her alive and unharmed
.

A thunderous pounding came on the front door. She rushed to answer it. Alec stumbled in with a deluge of rain and wet, salty wind. Libby caught a glimpse over his shoulder of the stormy sky and ocean. Scary. Alec was supporting a wizened old man. Zach was behind him with an older lady almost as round as she was tall.

Alec slammed the door behind them. “I have two more guests for you. I hope that's still all right.”

“Of course. We have plenty of empty rooms. Let me fetch some towels.” She raced to the laundry room and grabbed a stack of fluffy towels, then hurried back to the parlor where she helped the elderly couple dry off. A thought flickered through her head. What would taking in people cost her? Could these people afford to pay for the room?

“Alec arrived just in time,” the lady said. “But I'm worried about my angels.”

Alec put his hand on her shoulder. “I had Zach load them in the back of the SUV.”

She patted his hand. “Oh, Alec, did you really? You're a darling young man. Could you bring them in?”

“I'll get them.” He glanced at Libby and motioned for her to follow him. At the entry, he stopped and folded his arms across his chest. “The lady is Pearl Chilton. Your aunt.”

Her pulse kicked. “My father's sister?”

He nodded. “She's a sweetheart. I think you'll love her.”

He was still staring at her with a wary expression. “Did you tell her I was here?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I thought I'd leave that up to you.”

“Who's the older gentleman? I thought they were married.”

“Her neighbor, Thomas Carter. Their houses were both flooded. He was at her house when I got there. Pearl still works as the town postmistress. She's done that for thirty years.”

“She's been looking in on my brother and sister since my father died, correct?”

He nodded. “She should have been at your dad's house in town, but she was at her cottage trying to get her angels.”

“Angels?”

“Collectible angels. The living room is stuffed with them.”

“I can help you bring them in.”

“I can handle it. I'll be back in a few minutes.” He opened the door and stepped into the driving rain.

Thunder boomed overhead, and Libby shut her eyes against the brilliant flash of lightning. She slammed the door, then took a deep breath and went back to the parlor. Pearl had taken her long hair out of its bun, and the salt-and-pepper tresses lay drying on her shoulders and down onto her huge bosom. Barely five feet tall, she was round as an egg except for the shapely legs revealed by her skirt.

Pearl seemed to realize Libby was staring at her. “Is something wrong, young lady? I have a smudge on my nose?”

Family
. She had an aunt, siblings, probably cousins here. Libby couldn't take it all in. If only she knew Nicole was all right, the moment would be perfect.

She shook her head. “I . . . I'm sorry for staring.” She walked nearer to the fireplace where Pearl sat combing out her hair. “I'm Libby. Libby Holladay.”

Pearl put the comb down. Her gaze searched Libby's face as she heaved herself out of the chair. “Ray's Libby?”

Libby's throat locked, and she nodded.

“Oh, my dear,” Pearl said softly. She held out her arms.

Libby leaned forward and was enfolded in soft arms and an immense hug that smelled of lavender and mint. It was all she could do not to break down. Had her father ever held her like this? Once the fervency of Pearl's embrace lessened, Libby pulled away and swiped the back of her hand across her damp eyes.

Pearl's faded green eyes studied Libby's face. “I see your father in you,” she said. “You have his dark eyes. I wish he were still alive to see you. Not raising you was his greatest sorrow in life.”

Libby couldn't stop the tears that welled then. “I never knew he cared,” she choked out. “My mother said he didn't.”

Pearl pressed her lips together. “I don't like to speak ill of anyone, but your mother was determined to be free.”

Libby sank onto the rug by Pearl's feet and struggled to keep her expression neutral. Just listening didn't mean she was betraying her mother's memory. There were two sides to every story.

Pearl settled back on the chair. Clasping her knees to her chest, Libby watched her aunt's face in the firelight. “What was he like, my father?”

Pearl smiled. “Generous as the day is long. He was always helping other people. I think that's why God blessed him so with material things. He knew Ray would let them run through his hands to other people.”

“I—I hear my siblings are not too pleased to learn about me.”

Pearl's lips flattened. “Oh, they always knew about you. Ray never made a secret of it. He spoiled them too much though, and they think the world owes them a living. This will be good for them.”

Libby's growing impression of her siblings wasn't flattering. How long before she met them? The wind rattled the door. Did her aunt realize that Nicole was her friend? “I'm here to find my business partner, Nicole.”

Pearl gasped. “The girl who was taken—she's your friend?”

The compassion in her aunt's voice nearly broke Libby's composure. She nodded and swallowed hard. “I saw them take her on the beach cam.”

“Oh, my dear girl.” Her aunt leaned over and hugged her again. “I've been praying for that young woman. Somehow, I think she's all right.”

“You do?”

Pearl nodded. “When I pray, I have a sense of peace. You're going to find her.”

“I hope so. It's so scary.”

Pearl pursed her lips. “What about your mother? Where is she now?”

Libby shook her head. “She's gone. She died a year ago.”

Pearl's lips flattened. “She was always a bit of a hippie. I imagine you took care of her—made sure she ate and took care of the house. You have that competent air about you.”

Her aunt was perceptive. Libby nodded. “Mom always had a childlike way about her, but she was a good mother. Our house was always fun.”
Until it was time to move on to the next town
. “I got a job in a museum when I was sixteen. That's where I learned to love history. I got a scholarship to college and got to follow my dream.”

“What are you doing these days?”

“Nicole and I restore historic houses, then sell them. I love preserving part of the past.”

Pearl stared at her. “Your father would have been proud of you. I wish he'd gotten to meet you.”

Libby was forming a picture of her father that was very different from all she'd been told. But which was right?

N
INE

T
he wind howled and Libby paced through the night. With every rattle of the storm against the windowpane in her bedroom, she prayed for Nicole, then for herself and the siblings she had yet to meet. Where was Nicole riding out the storm? Was she hurt? Would her siblings like her when they got to know her? The questions battered her.

The clock said it should be daybreak, but the black clouds outside blocked the sunrise. She might as well get up. The bedroom door creaked when she opened it, but she doubted the sound would carry above the pounding of the rain against the house. She slipped down the hall to the back stairway that led down to the kitchen. The house shuddered, and she grabbed the doorjamb, then felt along the wall for the switch. The bulb in the stairwell was dim, but its comforting glow lit the rubber-covered stairs.

In the kitchen she fixed some tea, then carried the hot mug to the parlor, where she curled on the sofa with just one light on to push back the dark. The storm still raged outside, but she felt safe and snug surrounded by the possessions of her father.

A shadow loomed in the hall, then Alec spoke her name. “You okay?”

She set her tea on the coffee table. “Did I wake you?”

He shook his head and stepped into the room. “I wasn't sleeping. You had the same idea as me.” He held up a Pepsi. “Only mine was easier.”

Once he was settled into the armchair, she leaned her head back against the sofa. “I know you're wondering if I did something to Nicole,” she said. “I didn't.”

“I didn't say you did.”

“Your cousin thinks I did. And you're acting differently now. Wary.”

He took a gulp of his soda. “You have to admit it looks bad.”

“I agree.” She held his gaze. At least he wasn't afraid to look at her. “I care about Nicole. That's why I'm here. Will you give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“Okay, I can do that much.”

She exhaled when his expression went from cold to lukewarm. “Good.” Better to move on to another topic. “I like Pearl.”

He wiped the moisture from the soda can. “I knew you would. She's an institution in town. Everyone loves her, even though she knows everyone else's business.”

“I noticed that. She already knew my life story.”

“She won't repeat it either.”

“I didn't think she would.” Libby paused, uncertain how much he knew. “She said my mother was adamant about no contact. My father didn't want it that way.”

“I'm sure that's true. Ray loved his kids. Sometimes to a fault.”

“Did he ever speak of me?” She held her breath, hoping to hear some small snippet of her father's love for her.

He shook his head. “Not to me.”

Libby picked up an enameled egg from the table and rolled it in her palms. “According to Pearl, my siblings knew about me. She said my father made no secret of my existence.”

“Pearl would know.”

She put down the egg and pressed her hand against her forehead. “So much coming at me so fast. I just want to find Nicole, but there's all this other information clamoring to be absorbed. I can't even think.”

“You saw the cam late in the afternoon?”

She nodded. “I came right away, but I couldn't find a boat to bring me across the sound until yesterday morning.”

“What did you do all night?”

“I sat on the pier. I paced the dock and prayed.”

He smiled. “So you're a believer too.”

She glanced at him, surprised at the approval in his voice. “Not a very good one. I make it to church about once a month. Maybe that's why this has happened. God is punishing me.”