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Authors: K. A. Davis

BOOK: Windward Secrets
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“Who started the fire?” Claire asked.

The women all looked at each other and shook their heads.

“None of us,” Diane answered.

“Well, then, who did?” Caroline asked.

“This is strange, very strange,” Claire said, continuing down the steps. Walking to the front door she tried to open it. It was locked. So was the screen door, just as she had left them before dinner. “We need to check the back door.”

All four women went into the kitchen together and Claire reached for the doorknob. The door was unlocked. “Okay, who left this door open,” she asked. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “Someone probably came in and started that fire to try and spook us. We’re going to have to be more careful and make sure all the doors and windows are locked when we go upstairs.”

Turning, suddenly, she faced Jill. “Do you think Drew would have come into the house and done that?”

“I don’t think so, but if he had it was probably only to be nice because it was getting chilly. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

No longer interested in playing a game they double checked all the windows and doors, and made their way up the stairs to their rooms. Their faces were set in stone as each one went over in her head what had happened. Questions pushed into their minds uninvited.
Had someone really come into the house? Was one of them playing a trick on the others? Were they safe?
Their unusual silence created a vacuum in the old house.

***

Claire brushed her hair off her face and looked at the clock; 2:49 a.m. Someone was crying.

Chapter Four

Monday

 

Caroline set her coffee on the kitchen table and took a seat between Claire and Jill. “So, did either of you get any sleep?”

“Not much,” Jill answered. “We were just discussing last night. It’s rather unnerving isn’t it?

“Yes. I’m a little worried, actually. Have you been out for your walk with Drew yet?”

Jill emptied her mug. “Nope. It was foggy so I thought I’d wait until it lifted. It’s almost gone now, so I think I’ll walk down and ask him if he came to the house last night.”

“Good,” Caroline said. “I sure hope he says yes, because I would feel a lot better knowing it was him and not some weirdo.”

Claire picked at a rough spot on the tablecloth and looked up. “Who says he’s not a weirdo?”

“Oh, Claire, stop it. You don’t even know him,” Jill declared.

“Well, geez, Jill, he could be. You’ve only walked on the beach with him a few days and you’re ready to hand him the keys to the vault. Okay, that was a bad analogy. Forget I said that.”

“You can be sure I will,” Jill said, slipping into her windbreaker.

Claire blushed and looked at her friend. “I’m sorry Jill. That was out-of-line. Please forgive me. I’m tired and out of sorts.”

“Ah, forget it. It was actually pretty funny!” Jill laughed, closing the kitchen door and stepping onto the back porch.

“Claire! What is wrong with you? That WAS out-of-line,” Caroline said. “You’re just darn lucky Jill has a sense of humor.”

“I know. I really am sorry. I never should have said that. I can’t explain it, without even knowing the man he bothers me. There’s something about him. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well get over it,” Caroline said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Get over what?” Diane asked, entering the kitchen and heading for the coffeemaker.

“Oh, I put my foot in my mouth,” Claire said. “Let’s not talk about it.”

Diane leaned against the sink and crossed her arms with her coffee mug in one hand. “Probably a good idea since we have a problem.”

Claire jerked her head toward Diane. “What now?”

“The drain in the tub is clogged. I couldn’t get the water to go down.”

Claire relaxed. “Oh crap, Diane, I thought it was something serious. I’ll call the realtor and ask him to send a plumber.”

When Claire left the kitchen to get her phone Diane looked at Caroline. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really, Claire is just a little testy this morning. It’ll be fine.”

Shortly Claire returned to the kitchen. “They’re sending Wendell’s Plumbing. Didn’t give me a time, just said he would fit us into his schedule.”

Before Claire could make another move there was a knock at the front door. “I’ll get it,” she said, retracing her steps to the parlor.

Opening the front door Claire faced, rather looked over the head of a short, stout man, with at least three days’ stubble on his face, and a tool box in his hand.

“Wendell’s Plumbing. Here to fix the tub.”

Claire tried to make eye contact but she couldn’t because the man never looked directly at her. He was wall-eyed.

“Oh… Gee… Ah… Okay… Good… That was fast.”

The man mumbled something about a cancellation.

“Follow me,” Claire said. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.”

“Know where it is,” Wendell replied, pushing past Claire and starting up the stairs.

Claire stared in surprised. “Well, okay then.”

Turning to close the front door Claire saw the old, red pickup parked behind Caroline’s car. “Wendell’s Plumbing” was hand-painted on the driver’s door.

“Oh shit!”

Rushing back to the kitchen Claire closed the door between the kitchen and the parlor.

“Who was it?” asked Diane.

“It’s wall-eyed Wendell,” Claire whispered, spewing spittle as she laughed.

“Claire, what is wrong with you?” Caroline demanded, looking disgusted.

“I’m sorry. You know I would never make fun of someone with a disability, but this is just too weird. The plumber is this little guy who’s been driving past here every day in an old, red pickup and now he’s upstairs unclogging the tub. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, but this is just getting crazier by the minute. Are we in the twilight zone?”

Pipes rattled and banged overhead.

“You need a little Jack in your coffee Claire. You’re losing it,” Caroline said.

Claire started to laugh uncontrollably and sat down at the table. She rested her forehead on the table and held her stomach as waves of laughter possessed her body.

Diane looked at Caroline and lifted her hands as if to say, what now?

Claire finally looked up and wiped her face with a napkin. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Ignore me. Jill’s off with an axe murderer, we have someone coming into the house at night without us knowing, and now we have a wall-eyed stalker fixing the tub. There is absolutely nothing wrong here, it’s just me being paranoid.” She sipped her coffee between giggles.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going up to the roof to sketch,” Caroline said, getting up and tilting her head toward Claire. “She’s all yours, Diane.”

The banging overhead continued while Diane cleaned up the breakfast dishes.

“Claire you should eat something. Can I make you some eggs?”

“No thanks, Diane. I really am fine. I don’t know what got into me…all of a sudden everything seemed funny… weird… but funny. I’ll just have some cornflakes.

In an effort to achieve normalcy Diane asked, “Were you serious about renting bikes?”

Claire finished chewing a mouthful of cereal. “Sure. I think it would be fun, don’t you?”

“Well, the truth is I’m not very coordinated, but I’ll give it a try.” Squinting and wrinkling her nose she added, “I seem to remember riding a bike in my youth.”

“I noticed a bike rental in town the other day. We can go there when Jill gets back and wall-eyed Wendell is finished,” Claire laughed, with a maniacal look on her face and gazing up at the ceiling from where the banging emanated.

Diane shook her head and turned back to the sink. Looking out the window she said, “Here comes Jill now.”

Leaving her damp windbreaker on the porch, Jill entered the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Well?” Claire asked, anxiously.

Turning from the sink to see if there was going to be fireworks from Claire, Diane waited.

“No,” Jill paused, and looked directly at Claire. “Drew did not come to the house last night.”

“Oh swell,” Claire replied, pushing her chair back and taking her bowl and spoon to the sink. “I was so hoping it was Drew.”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Came Caroline’s raised voice from the direction of the parlor.

Claire, Diane, and Jill ran to the parlor to see Caroline chasing wall-eyed Wendell down the stairs. “I caught him coming out of Diane’s room!”

Before anyone could stop him, Wendell was out the door.

“But… is the drain working?” Claire inquired, in a business-like fashion.

Diane pushed Claire. “For Christ’s sake Claire, will you stop?”

“What in the name of God is going on, and who was that man?” said an astonished Jill. “I leave for an hour and you all go to hell in a handbag.”

Caroline continued down the steps. “Diane you better go see if anything’s missing from your room?”

As Diane walked up the stairs, Jill repeated, “Who was that man?”

“That was wall-eyed Wendell,” Claire said, dead serious.

Ignoring Claire, Jill turned to Caroline. “Caroline, what’s going on?”

“That was the plumber. The tub wasn’t draining properly so the realtor sent him to fix it. In the meantime, Claire has lost her mind.”

Diane stood at the top of the steps motionless.

“What is it Diane,” Caroline called.

“The only thing missing is a pair of panties.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Claire cried. “He’s a freaking, wall-eyed pervert.”

***

Silence prevailed as the four women walked to town, hands in their pockets and looking straight ahead. Finally, Claire broke the silence. “Do you think we should move out of the house? I saw a nice little B&B in town.”

Diane was the first to respond. “I think we have just had a few strange things happen all at once. Let’s not panic. What do you think Jill?”

“I agree. Let’s just be more careful locking up. Caroline?”

“I really like it here and would hate to leave just because we were probably a little careless. Back to you Claire.”

“The majority rules. I feel guilty because I chose Windward Cottage. I’m sure everything will be fine. We’ll just have to get Diane some new panties.”

“Oh God, here she goes again,” Caroline laughed.

***

At Claire’s suggestion, it was decided to rent bikes for three days. “I’m telling you, you are going to enjoy this so we may as well take them for three days. There’s no sense coming into town if we want them again, and besides it’s cheaper.”

“Ah, the voice of reason,” Jill smiled.

“Easy for you to say, Jill, you didn’t see her this morning,” Diane whispered, as she tried to balance on one of the bikes.

The bicycle rental man did the paperwork, fitted them with helmets, and gave them a map of the area. “Have fun ladies. If you decide to keep the bikes longer no problem, we’ll just square up when you return them.”

Diane wobbled back and forth across the road as Claire and Caroline expertly pedaled ahead.

“Look at them. Show-offs!” Jill squealed, barely avoiding the ditch on the side of the road.

Claire and Caroline were waiting for them in the driveway when they got back to the cottage.

“Good job, everyone. Let’s lock up the bikes and go to the beach,” Claire said.

“Great. I’m going to try a little watercolor,” Caroline declared.

Once settled on their beach towels Jill opened a picnic basket and passed out fruit and cheese. She handed Claire a bottle of water and uncorked a bottle of white wine. Filling two glasses, she handed them to Caroline and Diane.

“Where’s mine?” Claire asked.

“You’re shut off,” Jill answered, taking a sip from her glass.

“Oh, come on, one little incident and I’m being punished?”

Jill smiled and handed her a glass. “Just kidding, you can have some.” Continuing she said, “Drew asked me to dinner tonight. Does anyone mind if I go?”

“Who’s going to cook for us?” Diane asked.

***

Drew and Ike

 

Claire, Diane, and Caroline sat in their rockers, on the front porch, like a firing squad awaiting their victim. It wasn’t long before a sleek, black Mercedes turned into the drive.

“Looks like the consulting business is booming,” Caroline said.

The driver stepped out of the car wearing khakis, a pale blue, button-down, collar shirt with the long sleeves rolled up, Docksiders with no socks and dark sunglasses.
              “If there’s a Ralph Lauren emblem on that shirt I’m going to puke,” Claire whispered, from behind her glass of lemonade.

Drew opened the back door of the car and Ike, his black lab, jumped out. Reaching into the back seat Drew withdrew a large canvas bag. “Ike. Come.”

“Do you think he deliberately color coordinated his car with his dog?” Claire asked, snidely.

“Don’t start, Claire. Give the man a chance,” Diane whispered.

Wagging his tail so hard it seemed it would disconnect from his body the dog followed his master up the sidewalk as the women scrutinized Drew. He was average height, probably five feet ten inches with sandy hair graying at the temples.

“Not bad,” Diane said, out of the corner of her mouth.

“I’m thinking approaching sixty but, with that bod, he works out regularly and looks younger than he is,” Caroline volunteered. “I see this type at the country club all the time.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Claire asked.

Caroline shrugged. “Depends on what you like.”

Drew walked up the steps and removed his sunglasses. His eyes were hazel and he had perfect teeth. “Good evening, ladies. I’m Drew Carson.” Setting down the bag he shook each of their hands. When he took Claire’s hand she squeezed his so hard he almost flinched.

Without a reaction to Claire’s bone crushing hand shake he smiled and turned to Ike. “Stay.”

Ike ambled to the end of the rockers were Claire was sitting and laid down beside her. Claire inched closer to the opposite side of her chair and looked at Drew.

“Looks like he likes you.”

“Really? I can’t imagine why.”

“Neither can I,” Drew said. Covering quickly he added, “I thought you all might feel safer if Ike spent the night. He’s a great watch dog and if anyone tries to enter the house he risks losing a leg.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Diane said, standing up with the pitcher of lemonade. “Would you like some lemonade, Drew?”

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