Chapter 34

“Here we are,” said the cabbie, whose name was Roy, as he pulled up to a remote section of the beach.

Wilder, rockier, and with far less people. A couple walked along the edge of the surf. A man sat on a rock and gazed out over the waters. He turned to acknowledge the car and turned back to his view.

“Follow me,” Roy said, as he got out of the car.

“It’s gorgeous here,” Jane said.

“I agree,” Cora replied, wishing they’d brought Adrian with them. He’d love this.

Sea grass bunched in tufts along one part of the shore.

Roy stood and took in the scene before moving them along to a roughed-out path. They moved over small rocks and trees, tree stumps, and patches of dirt and sand.

Cora wondered where they could be headed. It seemed as if they were more in the woods than on the beach, yet she heard the ocean sounds.

They continued moving.

“Is this the part of the island you’re from?” Cora asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I used to play here as a kid. My wife is from the swamps, so I spend a lot of time over there these days.”

They clumped along the path. A crack of a stick breaking. Soft thuds of footfall.

“Here we are,” he said, leading them down a small hill to an opening in the wooded area.

Cora viewed the patch of rocky woods surrounding a pristine cove. The deeper blue of the water calmed her. Serenity washed over her.

Jane looked back at her with wide eyes. “I wish London were here,” she said.

“My favorite spot on the island,” Roy said.

He must have been about fifty, Cora surmised, catching his flecks of gray in the golden sun as it shone on him. A few wrinkles gathered at his eyes and around his mouth.

“I can see why,” Cora said.

“If the new resort happens, this will all be gone,” he said.

“So you are against the resort?”

He nodded. “I’m aware it’s probably inevitable. But I would rather it didn’t happen in my lifetime.”

A few moments of awkward pause as they all stood gazing at the tranquil blue sea.

“So, where’s the mermaid?” Jane said, grinning.

“See that rock out there?” He pointed to a jagged rock about two hundred feet out into the sea. It jutted out and almost resembled the head of a whale. “That’s where she was this morning. That’s where all the sightings of her are.”

“That’s true!” Cora exclaimed. “I read the book.”

Jane shot her a questioning glare.

“So this is the cove in the book,” Cora said.

“Are you talking about Marcy Grimm’s book?” he asked.

She nodded. “I read it last night. Beautiful book.”

“Yep,” he said. “Now, that young woman knew what she was talking about. Well educated. But now . . . you know, she was killed.”

“Yes,” Jane said. “So we hear. On her wedding night. Odd, isn’t it?”

He pursed his lips, as if he were holding something back.

“So you’ve seen her here?” Cora said, wondering what the man could have seen at this spot that made him think it was a mermaid. Could it have been a woman taking a break from a swim?

“Several times,” he said. “Always early on foggy mornings. I only catch glimpses of her. This morning. . . I saw her arm through the fog as she reached up to do something with her hair. I caught her face then. Not exactly what I’d call pretty.”

A chill came over Cora.

“More . . . sort . . . of . . . compelling and fierce looking,” he said.

“Could it have been a swimmer out there? Or a sea creature?” Jane asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said. “I understand how crazy it sounds. I do. But I know what I saw.”

Cora sized him up. He didn’t give any of the telltale signs of lying. He believed what he told them.

“We need to head back,” Jane said. “Unfortunately.”

“I could stay here all day,” Cora said.

“But I need to Skype with London. I promised,” Jane said.

“Thank you for bringing us here,” Cora said, as they headed back.

“Oh, you’re welcome. I never brought a tourist out here before,” he said. “You seem open.”

“Thanks,” Cora said.

“Some might call it naive,” Jane muttered, and he laughed.

“I do hope the new resort does not destroy all this,” Cora said, as they pulled away from the beach.

“We’re fighting it the best we can,” Roy said. “But there’s only so much we can do against all that power and money. Even the Grimm family is working hard against it and they have more money than God.”

There’s that expression again, Cora thought. More money than God. It was the same one their tour guide had used when they traveled through the swamp area.

“Can we drive through the swamp neighborhood?” Cora asked.

“Sure, but why?” Roy asked. “Most people don’t like it over there.”

“I want to take a glimpse at some gorgeous chimes I saw,” she said.

“Oh, that’d be Rue’s chimes,” he said.

“Rue? Josh’s mother?”

“Yes,” he said, looking in the mirrors. “The psychic.”

Jane and Cora quieted. Cora twisted a tiny piece of her skirt.

“Yes, let’s drive by there,” Jane said.

Cora watched as the landscape gradually turned from wild beach to marshy, swampy beach. Houses turned from a few scattered large homes to clusters of small, colorful places. The chimes she came to see were still there. No wonder they caught her attention before. The sheer amount of them was catchy. At least ten chimes or mobiles were strung or hanging on the porch and in Rue’s front window. The house was painted sea-blue; the porch sagged here and there, but the chimes . . . The chimes blew in the little breeze, and as they passed Rue’s place, Cora still found herself charmed with them.

“Psychic, hey?” Jane said. “I don’t know about that, but she certainly has lovely chimes.”

“Spirit chimes,” he said.

“What?” Jane said.

“Keeps out the bad spirits,” he said. “It’s old wisdom from some of the local women.”

“Who makes them?” Cora said.

“She makes them. Rue makes them,” he said. “Though my mom used to make them. A lot of the women around here grew up making them. But Rue makes and sells hers. They are amazing, aren’t they?”

“Just gorgeous,” Jane said.

“I wonder if she’d talk with me about them for my blog,” Cora said.

“I’m sure she would,” he said.

Cora’s mood lightened even more. She intended to hang on to it as long as possible. She glimpsed the resort and sighed. Back to Mathilde Mayhue and the craft retreat. Back to Adrian and his troubles. Back to the place where Zooey, or Susan, or whoever she was, was killed, several hours ago.