8

Luella checked the time on her watch. Despite it being an antique, it kept the time well…after several repairs. It was almost nine, and her ghost tour would start in just a few minutes.

She loved the island at night. The strong fish smell of the pier lessened in the evenings, so the air just smelled like the sea. She turned on her battery-powered lantern, and it emitted a soft, golden glow. Later, when the group walked under the live oaks during the tour, it would be eerie and dark. They’d need her lantern to find their footing. Just as important, it added to the ambiance she was going for. She fluffed the big skirt of her maroon Civil War–era replica dress and felt her hair to make sure every strand was pinned up as it should be.

Thankfully it wasn’t so hot at night as it was during the day with the sun blazing. The nighttime breeze was intense enough to cool the early-summer air almost to light-jacket weather. Rain was in the forecast for later in the evening, but from the radar she had just looked up, the tour should be fine. She’d met a few patrons already and chatted with some of them. There was nothing like sharing the specialness of the island with eager listeners.

“Hey, Lu, got a minute? I just finished cleaning and straightening the shop.” Julep’s somewhat gravelly voice made Luella look up. Julep had smoked for many years but gave it up cold turkey when her late husband, Mitch, was diagnosed with lung cancer a few weeks before his accident.

“I have about one literal minute before my tour begins.” Luella grinned at her friend. “Just joking since you’d asked that way. I have around ten. What’s up?”

Julep let out a sigh. “I feel that it may be time to ask Sue Beth to move her art classes out of the store. I have so much pressure on me now, and every time I see her, it makes my blood boil until I feel like a kettle about to screech.”

Luella nodded. “The two of you have had a hard go of it recently. What happened now?”

“Well, I had some really important clients coming to the store. You probably remember the Marshalls, the family who will be renting some of our antique china and many other decorations for a fall wedding at the Historical Society building. Sue Beth was late to her own art class. Again. So all her students were waiting around in the store since she had the key to the loft, where the class would be held.”

Wasn’t this something that could wait until later? “I don’t really see why—”

“It was a class where they paint each other in their unmentionables. Can you believe that?”

“Oh my. So when they were in the store, they were…” Surely adult women wouldn’t allow themselves to be in such a state in public.

“Well, they were all wearing housecoats. But trust me, anyone walking in felt uncomfortable. Despite the robes being terry cloth, I think it was apparent they didn’t have clothes, for day or night, under those housecoats. Why would anyone think it’s okay to be in an upscale furniture store with only a housecoat over their underwear?”

Luella nodded. She didn’t want to be in the middle of this disagreement. She needed to stay neutral. “But if I’m remembering right, Sue Beth holds those classes with only women, all of them close to our age, and the classes focus on body positivity and appreciating the forms that the Lord created. She calls what they paint ‘tasteful bikinis.’ ”

“She gets to act so foolish when I’m the one who has to maintain the store and keep our customers and reputation.” Julep’s voice was a growl.

“But getting that corner store unit would fix the issue of Sue Beth’s classes, right? The loft would have its own separate entrance and the students—and Sue Beth—wouldn’t have to come into the shop every day.”

“Yeah, but she would still be right there. Right above me.”

Luella opened and then closed her mouth. Sometimes Julep just needed to vent before getting back to herself. Although it’d been eighteen months since Mitch died, her friend was still deeply grieving his passing. Sue Beth was the easiest target for Julep’s frustrations, usually because Sue Beth didn’t think through how her actions would affect others. But…

“Julep, what’s really going on between you and Sue Beth? Things have been weird for a while. It feels like there’s something I don’t know.”

Julep glanced around at the gathering tour crowd and leaned in closer. “There is something, and I’m tired of keeping quiet about it. We had a get-together the day Mitch was diagnosed. Do you remember that?”

Luella nodded, her heart beating faster. “The gathering was already planned, and you guys didn’t cancel it.”

“That’s right. I was in a panic, and Gavin was helping me research and verify what the doctor had said. Sue Beth and Mitch were talking outside. I walked out and saw the two of them. She was hugging him in a way that you don’t hug your best friend’s spouse.”

Luella blinked. Was Julep implying…“You think she was throwing herself at Mitch?”

“No.” Julep made a disgusted face. “Not that. But she was stealing the moment I should have had with him. It’s what she does. Steals moments that don’t belong to her.”

Sue Beth was known for being a flirt, although Luella wasn’t at all sure Sue Beth realized how her behavior came across. Still, whenever the Glynn Girls ran into people from Sue Beth’s middle and high school days, they told stories of her being popular and flirting with all the boys. But her personality aside, when a couple had a ticking clock, it was a betrayal for a friend to steal time from them.

A crowd of people had started to gather around Luella and her lantern. It wasn’t the time to speak about anything sensitive with her walking-tour group waiting. She leaned close to Julep. “Let’s talk about this over a cup of coffee tomorrow morning. Now come take a walk with us. I know you’ve heard the stories before, but maybe walking will help clear your head.”

Julep nodded, looking a bit relieved to do something more than stew in her frustration and hurt.

Luella released her hand. “Good.” She turned to raise her lantern. “Gather ’round, everyone.” She projected her voice to get the attention of the whole group. A quick count told her there were twenty people. She studied each face for a second, deciding who she’d ask questions of on the tour. She smiled at them. “Are you ready to meet the ghosts of St. Simons Island?”

She hit all her favorite points and stories. They walked below the Lighthouse Inn and down a dirt road. It was hard keeping her mind off the revelation Julep had shared, but she tried to focus on the tour. Every few minutes Luella stopped the group and told them a story about the island’s history and inhabitants. But her favorite stories she saved for the end.

Luella held up the lantern and gestured for her tour group to stop. She had stories to share before they got to the lighthouse. Each path and every step they took on this island was steeped in history, sometimes beautiful and sometimes ugly.

The group gathered around her, and she studied their faces. “How many of you have heard of St. Simons’s most famous ghost, Mary de Wanda?”

Two people in the group raised their hands, and there was a new face in the group. It wasn’t unusual for people to start tagging along during her tour, and she really didn’t mind, as it helped spread word of mouth. The addition was a man of medium build, about her age or maybe a little younger, with gray-blond hair cut very close to his scalp. He was dressed nicely, which was a little unusual for someone walking around the island. He had his arms crossed as he was listening, frowning.

Interesting.

Luella focused again on the story she was going to tell. She held up her lantern and looked out over the beach, which was now at low tide. The clouds had parted enough that moonlight shined a wavy path on the water. It was a prime night for people to make good use of their imaginations. She turned back toward the group. “This is one of my favorite stories and one that involves some of my own ancestors, the Demere family. It’s really quite romantic but also sad.

“In 1824 Mary was a teenage ward of the Raymond Demere. You’ve probably noticed Demere Road, which is named after the family. They were wealthy planters, and young Mary acted as their house servant. But she was very beautiful, and Raymond’s teenage son fell in love with her. They met in secret to plan their marriage. One morning the son told his father that he planned to wed Mary. Not wanting his son to bind himself to a girl of lower social caliber, the father got into a heated argument with the son, which ended with the son rowing a boat away from the river landing, heading to the mainland for a few days to cool down.

“Unfortunately, bad weather started rolling in. The wind began blowing, causing the waves to get higher and higher. Turns out, a hurricane was headed to St. Simons. Full-blown hurricanes are pretty rare for our area. Mary could hardly contain herself, and she searched and searched for the young man all day through the storm, holding her lantern in the blinding wind and rain.”

Luella held up her battery-powered lantern for effect. “When the hurricane finally subsided, she saw it: the young man’s capsized boat. In her unbearable grief Mary flung herself into the rolling waves. Her love for that young man was so intense she was willing to join him in his early watery grave.”

The group was silent. Luella let her words hang in the air before continuing.

“Since that day lots of people on the island have claimed to see Mary, with her flowing long hair and white dress, holding her lantern high. She gets her name from the Geechee people who live on St. Simons and the surrounding Golden Isles. They call her Mary de Wanda. She wanders endlessly, looking for her lost love. We even have written accounts of air traffic controllers seeing her walking on the tarmac. And many respectable people, both residents and visitors, have seen her. I’ve heard tales of people seeing a woman in white walking on this very beach, but by the time the viewer reaches the bottom of the stairs to the sand, she’s gone.”

Luella smiled at the wide eyes and murmurs from the group. “I’ll let you take a few minutes to walk around the area, and then let’s gather on the lawn in front of the lighthouse. But we can’t take too long, because I think I feel some rain coming on.”

The group dispersed, chattering away.

Someone tapped Luella on the shoulder, and when she turned, she saw it was the well-dressed man.

“Excuse me. I’d like to have some words with you regarding your little tourist shakedown.”

What? She blinked.

“You just led a group of people into the garage of my hotel and told them about a crew of”—he used his fingers to make quotation marks in the air—“spirits who run up and down the stairs. And you told these potential guests to beware of staying on the third floor.”

Who was this guy? “Pardon?”

“Don’t even bother denying it.”

“I’m…not. It’s part of my tour and has been for years. No one on the island has ever minded.”

“Well, I’m managing the Lighthouse Inn now, and I don’t believe in ghosts. Moreover, I find your slander of this fine hotel offensive.”

“Slander? Just…just who do you think you are?” Complaints on Yelp were one thing, but for someone to confront her like this in the middle of the tour was just rude. Couldn’t he wait until after the tour?

“My name is Charles.”

“Now listen here, Chuck.” Her heart was pounding, but as much as she wanted to turn and run, she couldn’t abandon her group. She pointed a finger at his imposing chest. “I am a historian. This isn’t some cutesy little scam to take tourists’ money. This is our island’s unique history, and it includes folklore that dates back to the sixteenth century. I have slandered no one. If you don’t want me to take my groups by your hotel, that’s fine. But you are not in charge of what history I include in my tours.”

He raised a palm. “Ghosts? Really? You think that anyone takes this seriously? And did you just call me chump?”

“If the shoe fits.” An inner voice was screaming caution, saying no, no, no. She couldn’t make enemies. She and Blue Sails Casual Living needed friendship and cooperation from each business on the island. They needed each hotel’s continued recommendation for visitors to come to their shop.

But how could she just let this Charles…this…this…

Oh no.

Charles. Could this be the Charles McKenzie the property managers said was coming?

Before she could pull her own metaphorical foot out of her mouth and try to smooth things over, someone screamed. Luella spun and saw it was a woman on her tour.

Luella ran to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

The woman pointed toward the top of the lighthouse. Luella followed her line of sight up to the top of the tall structure. A woman with long blond hair and a flowing white dress stood behind the five-foot metal railing.

What in the world?

The lighthouse and its museum had closed for the day long ago. What was someone doing at the top?

“It’s Mary!” A man yelled, and several others started murmuring. A few gasped every time the figure moved.

“Mary de Wanda!”

Luella looked over to Julep, whose eyes were wide. Julep pointed upward at the lighthouse. “Got a good explanation, Lu?”

The figure certainly looked like Mary de Wanda. But that was absurd, right? The people in the group were snapping picture after picture with their phones.

Julep pulled out her own phone. “I’ll call Gavin. He can get someone to open the museum. A visitor must have gotten trapped up there. Somehow. Right?”

“I suppose.” Luella looked over to Charles. His jaw was slack, and he was staring upward. Good. In light of his accusations, the best thing that could happen was her tour seeing a real ghost.

Not, of course, that Luella believed in such a thing.