And a fun night it was. We had dinner at a casual place in town, where I complained at great length about our house-hunting experience. My friends told me about all the people they knew who also couldn’t find a suitable place at a reasonable price.
After dinner, Grace suggested a drink at the Ocean Side Hotel, and I might have shouted, “No!” a bit too forcefully.
When the laughter died down, we decided to head for the bar at Jake’s. On the way to our cars, Grace said, “You might be interested to know, Lucy, that your friend Ricky asked me out.”
“Ooh, do tell.” Josie wiggled her eyebrows. “When was this?”
“Last night, as book club was breaking up. He suggested dinner tonight. Fortunately, I had a standing date with you guys as my convenient excuse.”
“You don’t need an excuse on my account,” I said. “If you want to go out with him, that’s okay with me.”
“I do not want to,” Grace said. “And not just because the picture you’ve painted of him in the past is so unappealing—”
Josie and Steph laughed.
“He’s here because his dad died,” Grace continued. “He should be dealing with that and supporting his mother, not trying to pick up women.”
“Ricky can walk and chew gum at the same time,” I said.
“Not with me,” Grace said firmly.
We didn’t stay at Jake’s for long, as both Josie and I had to work in the morning. Josie had picked me up at the lighthouse earlier, and we exchanged hugs in the parking lot with the others before everyone headed off on their separate ways.
“That was fun,” Josie said as we drove out of town.
“Always is,” I said. “Even the closest of friends often drift apart and start to lose touch when they get married, but I’m glad that hasn’t happened with you, and I hope it doesn’t happen to me.”
“It won’t if we don’t let it,” she said.
It was reasonably early, but night had fallen and traffic was light heading out of town. A single car pulled out of Jake’s parking lot after us and followed us through Whalebone Junction and down Highway 12. Darkness settled around us as the bright lights of Nags Head fell behind. In the distance, the lighthouse lamp flashed its rhythm, as it would throughout the night.
I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. “I’m going to miss living at the lighthouse. I love it there, but it’s time for me to move on.”
“Have you and Connor done much planning for your wedding?”
“I’ve scarcely had time to give it a thought. It’s been so hectic with Mom here and all that stuff around the death of Rich. At least that’s over and they’ll be going home on Monday. I hope.”
“Over? You mean they’ve arrested someone?”
I filled Josie in on what Watson had told me, that the police were investigating Rich’s business affairs. I didn’t add that I was still concerned about the Nags Head connection. “Once Connor and I find a place to live, we can concentrate on planning the wedding.”
“The perfect house will appear, Lucy. Don’t give up hope.”
“I’m not,” I said, speaking as much to myself as to my cousin.
Josie flicked on her turn indicator, slowed, and turned into the lighthouse drive. The car behind us sped past, its headlights illuminating the long, quiet road ahead.
I jumped out of the car, waved good-night to Josie, and trotted up the path. I turned to watch the red lights of her car fading in the distance, and then I let myself into the lighthouse to be greeted by Charles. It had been a long day, and I was bushed.
I let out a groan when I remembered that I had to walk the dog. I really, really didn’t feel like it. Maybe tonight I’d forgo the walk and let Fluffy sniff around the bushes for a couple of minutes. That should last her until morning.
I unlocked the door to the Lighthouse Aerie, and Charles ran in ahead of me. Fluffy gave us a woof of greeting and leapt off the window seat. I threw my phone and my purse onto the bed and kicked off my shoes. “Let’s make this a quick one,” I said to Fluffy.
My phone buzzed with a text. It often didn’t work inside the stone walls of the lighthouse, but whatever energy propels phone signals must have been strong tonight. I crossed the room and picked the phone up. I didn’t recognize the number, but the words that flashed on the screen got my attention.
It’s me. Josie. My phone’s out of juice. Car broken down half way to town. Borrowed phone from a guy but he’s heading other way. Help!
I replied immediately: On my way.
I thanked the god of phone signals that I did have reception here tonight. I didn’t stop to wonder why Josie hadn’t called the landline. She knows how erratic cell phones can be in here. In my panic and rush, I also didn’t consider why she’d call me rather than her husband. If she was halfway to town, Jake’s restaurant was not much further away than the lighthouse.
I swept up my purse, stuffed my feet into a pair of flip-flops, and ran into the hallway, heading for the stairs. Charles and Fluffy followed me. I hesitated. Charles couldn’t come, and Fluffy would slow me down. I grabbed the cat, called to the dog, shoved them both into the apartment, slammed the door on them, and then I hurried down the stairs. I remembered to lock the door behind me and ran for my car. I jumped in, started it up, and sped down the laneway. I didn’t like the idea of Josie stranded at night on the side of the highway outside of town. Some man had stopped and offered her his phone. It sounded as though she was being suitably careful, as she should be, and hadn’t stepped out of the car. She’d probably rolled her window down an inch or two, just enough to accept his phone. I turned onto the highway. She’d said she was halfway back to town. That didn’t necessarily mean she was at the five-mile point; she could be anywhere along the road. Traffic was light, and not more than one or two cars passed me heading in the other direction. No one was ahead of or behind me. Thick clouds covered the moon, and outside the beam cast by the lights of my car, all was pitch-dark. My headlights picked up flakes of sand scurrying across the pavement, and I kept my eyes peeled for deer; I’d once almost hit a deer at night on this stretch of road. I saw nothing but drifting sand and scruffy grasses moving in the wind.
I drove slowly, alert for the sight of a car ahead of me, pulled off to the side, its red rear lights facing my way, white headlights shining into the night. Maybe the car belonging to the phone owner would be parked protectively next to it.
Nothing. I reached Old Oregon Inlet Road and the traffic picked up slightly, people heading home after a Friday night out. Lights from the rows of houses lining the seafront appeared, but they were far from the highway. Soon I was well past what anyone would call “halfway to town.” Could I possibly have missed her?
I hadn’t spotted anyone stopped at the side of the road when the red and green traffic lights of Whalebone Junction appeared in the distance. I passed through the intersection and pulled off to the side of the road. I sent a text to the number she’d used: Where are you?
No reply.
Maybe the phone owner had left her. Left a young woman alone in a broken-down car on the side of an empty highway at night? Not a nice thing to do.
I made a right at the intersection, turned around in a restaurant parking lot, and headed back the way I’d come, going even slower than I had earlier. Apart from a couple of impatient cars who sped past me, I saw nothing and no one.
By the time I reached the lighthouse lane, I was seriously worried. I turned around once again and stopped the car. I had to call Jake.
If Josie was okay, she’d be angry at me for worrying Jake, but right now I didn’t care. Something was not right.
“Hey, Lucy,” he said. “It’s late for you to be calling. What’s up?”
His voice was so natural, so cheerful, I knew his wife hadn’t called him for help, but I asked anyway. “Jake, I … Have you heard from Josie in the last twenty minutes or so?”
“Yeah. She called about ten minutes ago to say she was home and going to bed. Our schedules are so opposite, that’s the way we usually exchange good-night kisses. Why do you ask?”
“She told you she was home?”
“Yeah. Lucy, what’s wrong? Has something happened?” Panic began to creep into his voice.
“I don’t know, Jake. You don’t have a landline in the apartment, do you?”
“No. Almost no one I know has a landline anymore, except you.”
“She called you on her cell?”
“Lucy. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know. I got a text about twenty minutes ago, supposedly from Josie but not her number. Saying she’d broken down on the side of the road and asking me to come and get her. I drove up and down the highway, but she’s not there.”
“She’s not there because she’s at home. Where are you now?”
“I’m parked on the lighthouse lane, just off the highway.”
“I’m coming for you.”
“No need; I’m sure everything’s okay. It was a stupid prank.”
“Not a funny one. Don’t get out of your car, and don’t stay where you are.” He spoke quickly, issuing orders the way he did in his kitchen on a busy summer’s night. “Get on the highway and drive to Old Oregon Inlet Road; at least there’s some traffic there. Wait for me, keep your headlights on, and do not get out of your car. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m hanging up. I want to call Josie to check she really is at home and if she has any idea what’s going on. I’ll call you back when that’s done.”
He hung up, and I suddenly felt very alone. I sat in my car, in a small circle of light, surrounded by the dark night. When the lighthouse light flashed, the light I’d always found so reassuring and comforting, I realized how far away it was.
Until now, I hadn’t thought to be afraid. I’d been worried for Josie, then annoyed at whoever was playing a joke on me. Now I was truly frightened.
I glanced around me, trying to see into the night. But all was dark. Dark and quiet. So quiet.
I threw the car into gear and sped down the laneway. I probably took the turn onto the highway on two wheels, and I made it to the intersection at South Old Oregon Inlet Road in record time. My phone rang, and I answered it using Bluetooth as I made the turn and pulled off to the side of the road to wait. “I’m here.”
“Josie’s home, safe and sound and wondering why I felt the need to check on her,” Jake said.
“I tried texting her back, but no one replied. Should I call the number?”
“No. Don’t do anything until we get there.”
“We?”
“Of course we, Lucy. Don’t hang up. Stay on the line.”
An approaching vehicle slowed and turned onto the road. My heart stopped. The car sped up and continued on its way. My heart started again.
That happened a couple more times before Jake said, “I think I see you. Flash your lights.”
I flashed them. Jake’s car pulled up next to me, and he leapt out. I undid my seat belt and opened my door. My hands were shaking, and I wondered if my legs would hold me up. Jake grabbed my arm and helped me out of the car.
A police cruiser came tearing down the highway, siren screaming, red and blue lights breaking the deep night, and pulled in next to us.
“You shouldn’t have called the police,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t call the police. I called my brother,” Jake said as Butch got out of the cruiser.
“You okay, Lucy?” he asked me.
“I’m fine. I’m sure it was nothing.” I tried to smile at the men who’d rushed to my aid. I feared it came out as more of a grimace.
Another car screeched to a halt beside us.
“You shouldn’t have called Connor,” I said to Jake.
“Of course I called Connor,” Jake said.
Connor jumped out of his car without shutting off the engine. He reached me in three strides and wrapped me in his arms so tightly I was afraid I might suffocate. I made no move to pull myself free. It felt rather nice to be held. The dangers of the night silently receded.
“Thanks, guys,” Connor said, over the top of my head.
“Anytime,” Jake replied.
Connor finally let me go. He bent over and peered into my face. I reached up and touched his cheek. He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips.
Jake and Butch shifted their feet.
“Can you tell us what happened, Lucy?” Butch said at last. “Everything you can remember. Jake said someone lured you away from the lighthouse?”
“Lured is a strong word,” I said.
“Strong is what’s needed,” Connor said.
I told them the story. It didn’t take long. “Can you show me the text?” Butch asked.
I did so.
The three men leaned in and read the message. Butch pulled out his own phone and called the number. A tinny voice answered immediately.
“Either switched off or out of service,” he said. “I’ll get this checked out.”
“If you don’t need me any longer,” Jake said, “I should get back. I left a twenty-dollar steak on the grill and a mess of crab legs in a pot.”
I turned to him. “Thank you.”
His warm hazel eyes smiled back at me, but lines of worry hadn’t disappeared from the corners of his mouth. My cousin’s husband is a good-looking man. He’s slightly shorter and thinner than his brother, but otherwise the resemblance between them is strong.
“Let’s go,” Butch said. “I want to check out the lighthouse.”
“I’m coming with you,” Connor said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Maybe this was a practical joke and someone’s hiding behind a sand dune giggling into his palm even as we speak,” Butch said, “but I don’t think so. Your Honor, you take the lead; Lucy, you drive in the middle, and I’ll follow.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Jake said.
“Any sign of trouble,” Butch said to Connor, “you and Lucy get the heck out of there and leave it to me.”
“Will do.” Connor held the door of my car for me and waved me in.
Jake went first, turning right toward town with a farewell blast of his horn; then Connor followed, turning left. I pulled in behind him, and Butch came after me. He drove close to my rear bumper, but he’d turned the cruiser’s lights and sirens off.
I felt quite calm. Calm and safe and protected. And loved. I had no idea what had happened and whether or not someone wanted to only frighten me or if they intended to do me harm. Shock would settle in soon, but right now I was feeling surprisingly calm.
I didn’t think this person—whoever it was—meant me physical harm. I’d been alone when I ran out of the lighthouse in answer to Josie’s call, not paying attention to my surroundings. I’d driven up and down the dark highway, going slowly. It would have been easy to grab me before I got into my car or to force me off the road. I’d parked at the side of the lighthouse lane for a few minutes while I called Jake.
What, then, had been their intent?
We found out soon enough.
Butch told Connor and me to stay in our cars while he checked out the area around the lighthouse. Connor disobeyed that order immediately and got into the passenger seat of my car. We sat as close together as we could in my small Yaris, clutching hands as we watched Butch—powerful flashlight in one hand, the other on the butt of his gun—studying the grounds and the exterior of the building. I swallowed when he disappeared around the side of the lighthouse, and Connor gripped his phone in his free hand. I noticed he’d already punched in a nine and a one. Butch soon reappeared. He waved to us, and Connor and I got out of the car.
Butch met us at the bottom of the steps. “I’ve called for backup and asked them to notify Detective Watson. Someone left you a message, Lucy.”
He turned his light to shine directly on the door. A piece of plain computer paper had been fastened there with a nail. The typing was neat, in Times New Roman 12, too small for me to read from where I stood.
Butch nodded, and Connor and I climbed the steps. We peered at the note but didn’t touch it.
Stay out of what doesn’t concern you. Or next time your cousin will be in trouble. Maybe even you.