Chapter 27
Adrian and Jane left Cora’s room, insisting she rest. But she was too keyed up. Relaxed from her pill, yes, but not sleepy. So she picked up a book. It was Marcy’s The Mermaid of Sea Glass Island. It was a beautiful book, with gorgeous illustrations and type throughout.
It told the story of a mermaid captured by a fisherman, who became enamored by her and kissed her, after he untangled her from the net. Even though a mermaid’s kiss is usually deadly, she spared him because she had fallen in love with him—and because he saved her life. It was this mermaid who blessed the island with the sea glass and shells it became so famous for.
What a lovely story, Cora thought. In the back of the book it explained that the geography of the island and the tides and currents of the sea was the geological reason for the sea glass on this island. But Cora closed her eyes and decided she’d rather think about mermaids than riptides.
But she did love the shiny sea glass and the way it sparkled in mobiles, mosaics, and tiaras. Using the glass in crafts and jewelry was a gorgeous way to up-cycle, which was a practice that Cora believed in wholeheartedly.
As she drifted off, a pounding came at her door and she was brutally snapped back awake.
“Cora! Cora, let me in, please,” the voice said. A male voice. She kind of recognized it.
She struggled to emerge from the bed. She felt as if she were swimming—her legs and arms were heavy with slumber.
She made her way to the door and peered through the peephole.
“Cashel!” she said, and opened the door.
He fell into the room and onto the floor.
“What are you doing? Where have you been?” she asked as she helped him to his feet. He didn’t look himself at all.
He stood, wobbling on his feet.
“Are you drunk?” Cora said. The straight-laced Cashel drunk in the middle of the day?
“I swear, I only had one drink,” he said, but he smelled of alcohol.
“What? You can hardly walk,” Cora said, and led him to her bed. “You better lie down.”
“No, wait. I had two drinks. Yes,” he said.
“Cashel! You can’t be this drunk on two drinks!”
“Shhhh!” he said. “I know. Listen. I’m being followed. Nice cabbie brought me here. But, I’m being . . . followed.”
“What?” she said, leaving him to sit on the bed alone as she walked back over to the door, opened it, and looked both ways down the long corridor. “Nobody is out here. Honestly, Cashel!”
She turned back around and walked over to her bed. “Cashel?”
He was out.
So strange. Cashel drinking in the middle of the day? Two drinks made him this drunk? He must be lying. But why would he lie to Cora? More importantly, why had he come to her room, instead of his own? And where had he been all this time?
Her phone beeped, alerting her to a text message.
Late afternoon classes will resume. Thank you,
Mathilde Mayhue.
Great, Cora thought. And I have a drunk man in my bed. Not just any man. Ruby’s son. And Adrian’s lawyer.
Momentarily torn between wanting to take care of Cashel and needing to meet Jane and Ruby, she stood for a moment. After watching Cashel slumber, she determined that he wasn’t going anywhere. She better get going.
The walk over to where her friends were had never seemed so long.
* * *
“Ruby, I need to talk to you,” Cora said, as she entered the hallway and saw Ruby and Jane standing with a few other women. It was Katy and a few of her crew.
“What is it? We need to go,” Ruby said.
Cora pulled her aside. “It’s Cashel,” she said.
Ruby leaned in.
“He’s drunk and in my bed,” she said.
“What?”
“He’s drunk and in my bed,” Cora repeated.
“Cashel? My Cashel drunk on a Saturday afternoon?” Her eyes widened as she clutched her chest.
Cora held back a laugh. “He came to my room, pounding on the door, and I let him in. The next thing I know, he’s passed out on my bed.”
“Did he say anything? Like about why he’d been drinking? That’s not like him,” she said. “He’s always been straight as an arrow.”
“He said someone had been following him.”
Ruby lurched back. “Maybe he was getting too close.”
“Too close to what?”
“Too close to figuring out who actually killed Marcy Grimm,” she said. “And someone followed him.”
“For what purpose? To harm him? To scare him?” Cora mulled it all over. If the developers were behind these murders, they were nobody to mess with. They’d killed two women. They’d not flinch at killing another person.
Ruby nodded. “Probably both. If they were on to him.”
Cora dug in her crocheted back and fetched her room key card. “I doubt that. He’d only been researching for a few hours. How would they realize it so quickly? Here’s an extra key to my room.”
“Why would I need that?”
“I thought you might want to check on your son,” Cora said.
“Nope,” Ruby said, and smacked her lips together. “He’s a grown man. He’ll be okay in your bed.”
Cora felt her face heat. “Would you like to escort him out of my room and tend to him?”
Ruby shook her head. “When he wakes up, he’ll leave on his own accord. I can’t pick him up and carry him like I did when he was a boy.”
Cora imagined Ruby twenty years younger carrying her son around on her hip. She liked the image. But for now, she wanted him out of her room.
“He’ll be gone by the time you’re back,” Ruby said. “He’ll wake up and figure out where he is and hightail it to his own room. Mark my word.”
Cora sighed. Ruby was probably right. She’d go to the afternoon classes, concentrate on the craft in front of her, return to her room to prepare for dinner, and he’d be gone. As far as she was concerned, they’d never have to speak of it again.
“What’s going on?” Jane said, sidling up to them.
Cora filled her in.
Jane’s face reddened as she burst into laughter, which made Cora start to laugh, and the next thing she knew they were all laughing.
“I can’t imagine him drunk!” Jane said.
“Elevator’s here,” Katy called.
“Oh, okay,” Ruby said, and they all filed into the elevator.
Cora wished she had gotten some sleep. Ten minutes would have helped. She loved her ten-minute naps with Luna. She’d counted on having an interesting weekend, but not quite this interesting, and she hadn’t counted on missing Indigo Gap so much. They’d only been living in the quaint, historic town about eight months. Funny, she was missing it and not her home before that, in Pittsburgh. Oh, she loved the city and would always hold it special in her heart. But too much pain was attached to the place. The women she could not help. The ones she lost. The years she lost. No—she took a deep breath—she would not dwell on it.
Indigo Gap, however, was a fresh place, a place of comfort, mostly. Oh, there’d been a few . . . unfortunate glitches. She’d not allow herself to dwell on those, either. She was certain the murders and kidnappings were flukes. Stuff like that didn’t happen in places like Indigo Gap. And they didn’t usually happen on secluded islands, either.
What was going on here? Did the killing of Marcy and Zooey have a connection? If so, what was it? Did it have anything to do with the big development deal? It seemed as if it were the only thing happening on the island of any newsworthiness.
“It was the oddest thing I ever saw—and I’m a nurse,” Linda said. “The way Zooey’s body was folded and fit into that macramé bag. At first it was the odd knots that attracted me. I’ve never seen macramé knots like that. Then the body . . .”
“How awful,” Ruby said.
“I had no idea what was inside,” Linda went on. “I thought it was someone’s bag left behind. But the closer I got to it . . . I saw her hair and then her cold, unblinking eyes.”
“Okay,” Cora said. “I think that’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more.”
The elevators hushed and came to a halt. The women filed out.
“Good for you,” Jane said. “I was beginning to feel a little sick.”
“Nobody needs to be aware of the gruesome details. I’m sorry,” Cora whispered.
“Gruesome is the right word,” Jane said. “Now, which class are we off to?”