Tidewater Inn (24 page)
The boat touched bottom, and Alec tossed the anchor overboard. Samson dived over the side and swam toward shore. Alec clambered into the shallows, then held out his hand to assist Libby and Bree. Kicking off her sandals, Libby slipped into the water with him. The sea was chillier than she'd expected. The storm must have stirred up the cold from the bottom. She held her shoes out of the water and waded to shore. The sand was firm and smooth under her bare feet. When she reached the beach, she slipped her feet back into her sandals, then looked around.
“Where are the ruins? I don't see anything,” she said.
He pointed. “This way.”
He led them north, away from the finger of barren peninsula, deeper into the vegetation. Samson barked and ran ahead. Sea oats waved in the breeze, and beach grass fought to hold on in the dunes. Skate cases littered the sand. The sand began to run out and was replaced by thin soil that supported a maritime forest of straggly live oaks pruned by the salt into wedge shapes. Palmettos and loblolly pines marched along the forest.
Libby spied the ruins before he said anything. “There,” she said, pointing. The area was still flooded, and she could see only the tops of brick and mortar. “It was a lighthouse once? There's not much left of it. I expected a standing structure.”
“It was knocked over in a big hurricane in the late eighteen hundreds. Legend has it that Blackbeard stormed the lighthouse and captured the keeper's daughter.”
“What happened to her?” Bree asked, shuddering.
He shrugged. “No one really knows. Some say Blackbeard loved her and carried her off to his lair in the Bahamas. Others say she jumped overboard and drowned rather than face dishonor. But it's just a legend. There may be no truth to it at all. People have come out here from Hope Beach for generations. Weddings have been held here, ashes have been committed to the sea from here, and babies have been dedicated on this spot. It's almost a shrine to the town.”
Libby glanced around. “Why? The place seems so barren.”
He propped one foot on the ruins. “Over the years it gained the reputation of bestowing good luck on residents. The first marriage here that I know of was at the turn of the century. That marriage lasted sixty years.”
She lifted her chin and sniffed the sweet-smelling air. “It has a welcoming feel in spite of all the ruins.”
Advancing to the base of the building, she examined the debris. “Nicole was wearing a pink cover-up over a brown bathing suit. She had on pink flip-flops too. And her hair was in a ponytail.”
“I'll take Samson and we'll nose around,” Bree said. She pulled a bag of pistachios from her pocket. “Want some?”
Libby grinned and shook her head. She dug into her pocket and held up her jalapeño jellybeans. “I have these.”
Bree wrinkled her nose, then she and Samson headed toward the line of vegetation. The dog had his nose down.
Alec walked the perimeter of the ruins and back. “I don't see anything but a few Coke bottles. We'll come back again when the water recedes.”
“I'd wondered if she came out here on her own, but I don't see any sign of her.”
“How would she get here? It would take an hour to walk from the house,” he said.
“She's an avid runner. I imagine she could run along the beach and get here in forty-five minutes. She's not the type to wait for someone else to show her something of interest. I thought she might have come out here the day before to scout it out before coming with Vanessa.” She turned and looked out to sea. “Would they have taken her to the mainland? I don't know where we should look.”
“The state has put out a bulletin about her. If she's there, someone will see her. This is summer. The coastline is crawling with tourists. It would be hard to take her anywhere without being seen.”
“But not impossible if they did it in the middle of the night,” Libby said.
“She was taken late in the afternoon.”
Libby felt so hopeless. “They could have holed up somewhere.”
“True enough.”
Libby realized she was grasping at straws. “What about farther out? Are there any uninhabited islands on this side of the island?”
He nodded. “Plenty of them. Some of them barely as big as a postage stamp. I thought we'd check out as many as we can. We can go out in the boat and ask fishermen if they've seen anything too.”
“You think she's dead, don't you?” The question tore from Libby's throat.
He stared down at her. “We both know that the longer it goes since she's been spotted, the scarier it is. But I haven't given up hope yet. Someone has to have seen something.”
She searched his expression. “You really believe that?”
“I do.”
His certainty strengthened her. She glanced back at the ruins. “Are there any photos of the lighthouse before it was destroyed?”
He nodded. “Your dad has quite a library at the old hotel. He was a history buff, and the information about the island and Hope Beach that he has is more extensive than anything the town library has.”
It appeared she had something in common with the father who left her.
Alec led Libby across the street from the harbor to the Oyster Café. It was lunchtime and there would be plenty of townspeople around who might have met Nicole during her stay. Bree had taken Samson to meet Kade and the children for lunch at Captain's Pizza.
“This is such a darling village,” Libby said when they stopped outside the café. “I love it. So quaint.”
He pushed the door open. The waitress seated them by the window that looked out onto the street where bicyclers zipped past.
“Why do so many people ride bicycles here?” she asked.
He hadn't thought much about it. “Gas is high, and it costs to get a car over here. I guess progress hasn't caught up to us.”
“I like it. I'd like to get a bike.”
“Your dad has one in the basement of the inn. I'll show you where it is.”
She brightened. “I'd like to use his.” Her smile faded. “Though it's likely to be one more source of contention with Vanessa and Brent. They don't want me to have anything personal of my father's.”
“They'll get over it.” He watched her toy with the necklace. “You still have the necklace, I see. I wondered if you would give it to Vanessa last night.”
“I think God is telling me to do it, but I'm fighting the idea.”
“It's never a good idea to fight God.”
“I know.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I don't want to do it. I've been praying he makes me willing to obey.”
“Good prayer.” He looked at the menu. “I think I'll get shrimp grits.”
“Crab linguine sounds good,” she said, staring at the menu. “Have you had it?”
He nodded. “It's good.”
She glanced around the crowded space. “Who might have talked to Nicole?”
He scanned the tables. “I guess anyone in here could have. This is a popular place to eat.”
“Maybe the waitress will remember her.”
“Maybe.” He motioned to the waitress, a pretty woman who was about twenty-five. He should know her name, but he couldn't remember it. All he knew was that she'd moved here from Kill Devil Hills about six months ago.
“What can I get for you?”
He gave their orders. “Did you meet the young woman who was kidnapped earlier this week?”
“Sure did. She sat at that table right there.” The waitress pointed to the corner table behind them. “I didn't know her name, but I recognized her face when I saw it in the paper.”
“Did she eat alone?” Libby asked.
The waitress shook her head. “Some slick city guy was with her. Real dark hair. Kind of reminded me of Elvis.”
“Poe,” Libby said. She shot a glance at Alec.
“Could you hear what they talked about?” Alec asked.
“I overheard them arguing a little,” the woman said. “She said she thought he wasn't paying enough.”
“For what?” Alec asked.
“I don't know. I didn't hear that.” The server stuck her pencil behind her ear. “I'd better get this order in.”
When the woman walked away, Libby leaned forward. “So maybe she was negotiating for more money for my land.”
“Looks like it. When are you supposed to hear from him again?”
“I told him to give me a week. But we didn't set a specific time.”
“Did he give you his card?”
Her face lit. “He did. I forgot about it.” She dug in her purse and came up with a card and her phone. “My cell doesn't have any bars.”
“Neither does mine. We can go over to my house and call after lunch though.” Alec's head came up when Tom walked in the door. “Hey, Tom,” he called.
Tom had been starting toward a free table, but he changed directions and headed toward them. “Mind if I join you?”
Alec shoved a chair out with his foot. “Have a seat. We just ordered.”
Tom motioned to the waitress and gave her his order. He stared at Libby. “I heard you got a search-and-rescue dog team helping. I would have appreciated it if you'd let me know what you were doing before you did it.”
She flushed but didn't look away. “I have the right to try to find my friend. You don't seem to be looking.”
His jaw tightened. “I'm doing things you don't see.”
“No harm in looking on our own,” Alec said.
Tom's eyes were dark when he glanced Alec's way. “If you found anything, you contaminated evidence. You know better than that. I would have sent a deputy along with you to retrieve anything you found.”
“Fair enough.” Though Alec was sure the items they'd found had been dropped by Nicole, what if he was wrong? “We found a couple of things last night, but I'm sure they aren't evidence.”
Tom's mouth was pinched. “What?”
Alec told him about the discarded hat and sunglasses. “Someone threw them away. Could have been the kidnappers covering their tracks, or it could have been someone cleaning the beach.”
“Where are they?”
“In my truck.”
“Alec, that was just plain stupid. I hope you didn't destroy something that might have led us to Nicole.”
Alec exchanged a long look with Libby. He had been suitably chastised.
B
ree and Kade took the kids to explore the town and harbor, and Alec went with Zach back to town to buy some jeans. Worry had drained Libby, and searching for Nicole left her feeling hopeless. What if she never found her friend? Though she tried to kill the thought, it refused to go away.
For days the box of letters from her father had been in her closet. Libby fingered his necklace and decided to gather her courage and read some. But not alone in this room. Maybe with Pearl. She lifted the shoe box from the shelf and stepped into the hall where she practically ran into Vanessa.
Vanessa's eyes narrowed. “What's in the box? That's my father's handwriting on top.”
Libby had studied those words for days.
For My Oldest Daughter
. “They're letters he wrote to me.”
Vanessa made a grab at the top and flipped it off. “Let me see.”
Before Libby could pull away, Vanessa had one of the envelopes in her hand. She stepped out of reach. “I want to understand what this is all about. How could my father prefer you over me and Brent? Surely you can see how I need to figure this out.”
Short of snatching the letter back as rudely as Vanessa had taken it, Libby watched as her sister pulled the sheet of paper from the envelope. It took all her self-control to stay calm. “I haven't read it myself. Please give it back.”
The other woman lifted a brow but made no move to return the note. She unfolded it.
“Vanessa, that's enough.” Pearl stepped from the doorway of her room. “You're being incredibly bad mannered. That was not meant for your eyes. If your sister wants to share it, that's up to her, but the choice is hers, not yours.” When Vanessa kept the letter, Pearl stepped closer, plucked it from her hand, and handed it to Libby. “I'm sorry for her rudeness, my dear.”
