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Oliver continued to remain at his grandfather’s home as he continued to fight his illness.
His absence was a great relief to Alyssa, who was more robust in her mind and body. She had lost all of her nervous irritability and recovered self-control. She no longer shuddered if her husband’s name was accidentally mentioned in her presence.
Charlotte was so pleased with her improvement that she wrote daily progress reports to Oliver while he remained with his grandfather.
It was the middle of October, and it was a beautiful day. Alyssa and Amala walked side by side along the white sand beaches that girdled the island estate. They continued to make this a daily expedition; sometimes, they would walk around the entire island and have a good appetite for lunch.
Alyssa was never able to share with her good friend her deep secret.
“When are you and Edmund going to marry, Amala?” she asked her friend one evening under a full moon on the moonlit terrace.
Amala started to answer and then blushed but didn’t give a reply.
“Now, Amala, surely you can tell me your friend of this affair. Whom can you trust if not me? Are we not sisters?” Come, Amala, when will the wedding be? Tell me, please!”
“Only Heaven knows, Lissie,” said Amala, comfortably calling her by her own given nickname. “It is very far off. Edmund says he will have gray hair before he can afford to marry me,” answered Amala in a low tone.
“Do you two need to wait for that?”
“I suppose so.”
“Ahhh, if that Smith woman had only a big enough heart to fall in love and marry and so forfeit all that wealth that Edmund might have inherited. What a great piece of good fortune that would have been! I really hate a woman who prefers gold over love, Amala!”
“So do I,” admitted Amala. “But Miss Smith may leave Edmund her fortune since she has no relatives of her own, and Edmund was supposed to be the heir if she had broken her promise.”
“Yes, that is true, but it will probably never happen. She is only forty -two years old. She is still young enough to marry and have children.
“I thought she was prohibited from marrying to be entitled to the fortune?”
“That was true before the woman passed away. But now that she has departed, she can do as she pleases.”
“Do you, Alyssa—-.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “What was that?”
“What was what, Amala?”
“I thought I heard some footsteps through the bushes quite close to us.”
“It was your imagination. No one possibly could be here. The servants are all inside the house right now. There’s no one here. So go ahead with what you were saying.”
“I was going to ask you if you think Miss Smith will ever marry at her age?”
“I really can’t tell you. I know very little about her.”
“Wait, Alyssa,” gasped the young woman in a frightened whisper.
“What now?” inquired Alyssa.
“Those steps again! I heard them more distinctly this time. It was definitely not my imagination.”
“Nonsense. There’s no need for alarm, Amala. It was probably a cat.”
“No, Alyssa. There is a big difference between a person and that of a cat. Besides, cats couldn’t break the brush when they stepped on it. No, the steps I heard came from a person!”
“Oh, Amala, there isn’t any reason to trouble yourself so.”
“It is so lonely here! All the trees make it look really dark.”
“But we really are quite safe here. Our island is like a stronghold. There’s nobody here except my family and the servants. The ferry boat is not at the docks.”
“What about a rowboat?” asked Amala.
“Gosh, Amala, that is one thing I never thought about. Come, let us get back to the house. You’re right. It is dark and lonely here... besides, it’s getting late and—-.”
Alyssa’s words were cut short by a loud scream from her friend, who turned and ran back to the house.
Alyssa wasted no time and did the same... just as fast as her legs would carry her.
As they reached the house, Kenneth had heard the scream and was already out on the back patio to meet them.
As soon as they reached the patio, Kenneth said, “Whoa! What is wrong? What happened?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you! I can’t! Let me go!” Amala wildly exclaimed, breaking from him and flying into the house and up the staircase.
Alyssa was fast on her heels. Kenneth caught her arm. “Alyssa. Alyssa Nicole! Whoa! What is going on?” he asked more anxiously than before.
“Oh, Father, something has really scared Amala,” replied Alyssa.
“What in the world could have scared her in our quiet gardens.”
“She told me she heard footsteps in the bushes.”
“Did you hear anyone?”
“No, sir. I didn’t hear a thing, but maybe a stray cat. But please, father, let me go to her. She was really frightened no matter what she heard or saw.”
“Yes, Alyssa, go to her. Convince her of the absurdity of her fears.”
Alyssa rushed upstairs and to her dear friend’s bedroom. When she ran in, Amala sat in her chair with her legs pulled up under her. Her face was buried in the palms of her hands, crying. “Oh, God, Amala, what made you scream so loud? It had to be something more fearful than just the shrubbery making noises.”
“Oh, Alyssa, God... it was! It was!” asked the girl.
“Tell me what you saw.”
“I will tell you, but please don’t consider what I am about to say lightly! I’m gonna tell you the truth, Alyssa. Oh, please... Alyssa, it will kill me!” said the young woman shuddering.
“What was it, dear? Tell me, and you will feel much better,” whispered her friend soothingly.
“It wasn’t something I heard, Alyssa. It was something I saw!” gasped Amala.
“What did you see?”
After I heard the steps the last time, I turned to listen and I... oh, my God, I saw... oh!”
“Saw what, Amala. Speak to me. You saw—-.”
“My mother’s face!”
“What!”
“My dead mother’s face in the bushes peering at me, white and ghastly,” said the girl in a hoarse whisper.”
“Amala! Collect your senses. What are you saying? You saw your mother’s face? Your mother has been in heaven for over a year now.”
“No, Alyssa. I know what I saw. It was the face of my mother! I did! I am not imagining what I saw. It was her,” cried Amala wildly, pressing her hands before her eyes and rocking her body back and forth in the wingback chair. “No, Alyssa, you can not tell me that I didn’t see my mother... I know I saw her!” she insisted vehemently.
“Come, get comfortable. Get in bed, Amala. I will have Thomas come up and sleep in a chair outside your door. If there’s anything you need, just give him a shout.”
After she was made comfortable, she asked Thomas to come and sit in a chair in the corner of the room. Before he sat down, she said, “It was my mother’s face, Thomas! It was indeed,” she repeated over and over.
Old man Thomas smiled, leaned over, and pulled the covers up for Amala. “Probably two of the servants in the house chasing each other.”
“I know I saw my mother’s face tonight. But it is no use to keep saying it. I will stop.” Amala said impatiently. “But, Thomas, before tonight, I only believe in life after death. But now, I know of it, for I have seen my dead mother's face!”
Alyssa left Amala and joined her mother in the parlor, where she found two of her sisters sitting with her.
“Ahhh, dear, come in. Your father told me you had quite a fright in the gardens tonight. What was it?”
They didn’t have much conversation and elected to retire for the evening.
Alyssa looked in on Amala, and finding her sleeping well, she dismissed Thomas and withdrew to her own bedroom.
*****
AMALA AWOKE THE FOLLOWING day from her deep and, thank goodness, dreamless sleep. She went downstairs and joined the family for breakfast, looking well rested.
Kenneth attempted to jest with her on the terrors of the previous night.
However, when the subject was mentioned, the young woman grew pale. Finally, the entire table became silent, and all eyes were on the music teacher.
Amala laid her fork down on her plate. Then, after several seconds of silence, she said most solemnly, “It was no illusion. As sure as I am sitting here, I saw my mother’s face last night. The fact no longer frightens me... it only awes me. I have only believed there was life after death, but now... I know it for sure.”
Nothing more was said. In politeness, Kenneth thought it best not to contradict Amala. He looked down at his newspaper while sipping his coffee and eating his buttered toast.
Charlotte was reading the Portland News and raised her hand, “Ahhh,” she looked up from the paper, which got the attention of everyone sitting at the table.
“What is it?” carelessly inquired Kenneth.
“It’s something that concerns Edmund more intimately.”
Kenneth said, “Finally, he is being shipped off to Mozambique. I knew it was sure to be,” put in Kenneth.
“No, honey, not at all. But it is something that may save him from having to go to Mozambique or even remaining in the service to the Navy for that matter.”
“My, Lord, Charlotte, you speak in riddles. What are you saying?”
Amala looked from one to the other and listened with the most attentive ears of interest. All that concerned the man she loved was of the most vital importance to her.
“Okay, Kenneth, cool your jets. I will read the paragraph,” continued Charlotte. She put the paper on the table and smoothed it out to read.
“The forthcoming marriage is announced of the Honorable Terrence Landry, Governor of Oregon, and Adelaide Dianne Smith, daughter of the late Reverend Henry Smith, and niece and sole heiress of the late Sabrina Covington of Black Rock Cove.”
She closed the paper. “There! If that is true, as I have no reason to not believe, Miss Smith forfeits by the terms of her grandaunt’s will the entire Covington Estate, which will now revert to Edmund, our nephew,” concluded Charlotte with an expression of satisfaction.
“I don’t think you’re right, Mother. I wish there was a shadow of hope for my cousin, but there’s not. When the last will and testament were published, the subject was discussed. It was decided that the clause respecting the marriage only dealt with Dianne Smith not marrying while Miss Covington was still alive, but not afterward.
“Very true, Alyssa Nicole. I do believe you’re right,” sighed Charlotte.
The breakfast party arose from the table, and any further discussions regarding the last will and testament were discontinued for the time being.
*****
VICTORIA MERET, THE old vagabond and fortune teller, received her share of the $50,000 reward offered by Kenneth Reynolds for the recovery of Mrs. Bernice Luther’s dead body.
But, as soon as she cashed her share of the funds of $25,000, she converted it into shining gold coins. Then, she changed her mind about moving away from the neighborhood and living honestly.
There was only one problem. Victoria found it very difficult to part with the shiny gold coins. She would rather simply have them and lay them out in her life, admire them, and then put them back in hiding. Finally, however, one morning, she took just enough out to go into Black Rock Cove, buy a 38 Special, and return home to the Lighthouse.
Claudia was out and about, and Victoria was the only one there. She fastened the door and window and sat down in her wingback chair. She went to where she hid her gold coins, got them out, and poured them out in her lap to admire their golden beauty. She sat a long time absorbed with delight until she was suddenly aroused by a loud knock on the door.
The old crone listened but didn’t make a sound. She gave no sign of her being home. However, she was not opening the door until she had hidden her stash away.
The knocking on the door became louder and was succeeded by shaking the door frame. “Damn, the old bitch isn’t home yet,” the door knocker said and retreated.
Victoria listened until his footsteps became quiet and died away slowly. Then she began to laugh to herself. “Ahhh, you were soon on my trail knowing that I had all these gold coins, Hugh Jackson! It’s not likely I would dare let you inside until I hide my money. Knowing you, I would get my throat cut, and you take my money away. You little weasel, you thought you would catch me here alone with my share of the money cashed into gold coins and come in and be off with it. I don’t think so. You don’t know about my little 38 Special. Thought you come just ramble on in here, cut my throat and be off with the loot. Fool! Oh, trust me, little boy, I will surely put a bullet through your head with great satisfaction at the first sign of Demontry on your part. But now, it’s time to load my pistol and have it ready and to hide my money.” She concluded, speaking to herself, replacing the coins in a small bag, and finding a new hiding place for them.
Before Victoria Meret received her fortune, she had been thrilled with her desire and intention of using it to escape poverty and away from the Lighthouse where she had been for so many years.
But every time she took her gold out of hiding and laid the shiny coins in her lap, the old crone became suddenly smitten with the miser’s madness. She became obsessed with the fear of losing her money and a fierce desire to add to it.
Even though she put her money into hiding places, she never felt like it was completely secure. She was afraid to leave it in the house because someone might rob her while she was gone. She was scared to take it on her person because someone might hit her over the head and take the pouch of gold coins. She distrusted everyone.
She suspected Hugh Jackson of being a murderer at heart and her own daughter Claudia of being a thief.
Victoria was at pains to mislead Claudia and Jackson and hid her money in different places every chance she got.
One night in a conversation with the good Mister Jackson, she said, “Ahhh, I have made an excellent investment of my share of the reward money. I have loaned a man $20,000, and he is paying me ten percent interest on the money.”
“Wow. That’s high. I sure hope you got good security for the investment,” replied Jackson, who wasn’t buying a word she said and knew the money was hidden in the Lighthouse somewhere and continued to watch for his opportunity to get to the cash and pilfer it.
“Yes, the very best security. Trust me for that,” replied the vagabond, chuckling.
Claudia didn’t participate in the discussions between Hugh and her mother. Instead, she just sat in a big chair in disapproving silence.
When again all alone, she thought of ways of not spending her gold coins but of making more. If she could only double what she had, she would no doubt be satisfied. If only someone else would commit murder or suicide to cause a reward to be offered. Hell, kidnapping or some crime that was never solved. But, then, her craft and skills might secure another large reward just like before.
Her thoughts began to conjure a plan. First, there was the missing body of the murdered Samuel Knight. The reward climbed to $100,000 for the recovery of his body and the conviction of the person who murdered him.
The more she thought, the more she remembered, and the more she remembered, the reward was changed. The money offered was not for restoring the remains but for information that would lead the police to the finding and the punishment of the person or persons responsible for snatching the body.
Victoria tossed about in her mind how she could obtain it! How could she discover the mystery, which had baffled the ingenuity of the most skillful detectives in Black Rock Cove and out of Portland, Oregon?
An elaborate plan began to evolve.
She would cast a spell on Haley Dawn Johnson and draw the young girl away from the Courbis Mansion or what was once the Knight Mansion. She would draw her to the Lighthouse and put her in a deep trance. Through her clairvoyant skills, the whereabouts of the remains of the late Samuel Knight might be located.
But, and that is a big but, it was also necessary for her to have something Samuel had handled or worn... a piece of clothes or... yes, a lock of his hair.
Suddenly, a memory flashed in her mind that Johnny Prazak, the eccentric village barber in Black Rock Cove, had several large notebooks where he kept people from the surrounding community past locks of hair.
Victoria now decided to go and talk to Johnny and see if she could get a small sample of his hair.
The following morning, she called a taxi and got a ride into town.
The taxi let her off, and she saw the red and white barber pole turning. But, no, there was nothing strange about the pole colors as the old man was a Brit and only in America do the poles have the added shade of red.
Victoria walked past the window and saw that “Uncle Willie” was alone. She first bought some hair tonic to start the conversation from the old man.
“Uncle Willie, do you still keep locks of hair from your customers?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Meret, ma’am.”
“Have you any from Samuel Knight by chance?”
“Of course. I was cutting hair here for ten years before his mother and father brought him for his first haircut when he was only three. I have cut it for the last twenty-some-odd years.” He paused a moment and pulled a large scrapbook off the shelf. He turned the pages. “Seek, here. It’s Samuel’s lock of hair. And these,” he turned the pages, “are the cuttings from his hair when he was only twelve. It is blonde. Then when he was fifteen, it was brown, and the week of his last birthday, at twenty years old, it is black as the ace of spades.”
“And that was the last?”
“Yes, the day before his birthday bash out at the mansion.”
“Uncle Willie, I have come to you today with a delicate message from a young lady who was very fond of Samuel. She wishes to have a lock of his hair as a keepsake. Any little bit for her to kiss and cry over would make her so happy.”
“Well, I suppose I can share. What is the poor girl’s name?” asked the barber, who was full of sentiment.
“I will tell you, but please, you must keep it a secret.”
“I will keep the secret to my dying day, Mrs. Meret.”
“It was Miss Amala Luther,” whispered the old crone.
“Oh, the poor child. Here,” he pulled out the last lock cut, “is half the black curl of hair I cut from Samuel on the day preceding his death,” he kindly said as he pulled it in half and gave it to Victoria. “Please give this to the poor girl.”
“Thank you, Uncle Willie. It is kind of you to share this lock of hair. Miss Luther will value it highly. You can depend upon that,” said Victoria as she started to depart the shop.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Meret,” replied Uncle Willie.
Victoria walked outside and stuck her hand up in the air at a passing taxi. Finally, she was home at noon. Surprised to see her so soon, sitting on a small black boulder was no other than Haley Dawn Johnson.
Victoria said to herself, “Ahhh, my will is working so quickly!”
Little did she know, but it was not her will that brought the young girl there, but something totally different.
“Hello, Haley. Are you waiting for me? I haven’t seen you since you turned fourteen at Shaw’s Bend, soon after you lost Mrs. Luther,” began Victoria.
“Mrs. Meret, I can’t stand it any longer,” replied the young girl.
“Can’t stand what, honey? Come. Come into my house and sit down. I’m dead beat myself, having got up at the break of day.” So they walked to the door. Victoria took her key from her purse and opened the door.
Haley followed the old crone into the Lighthouse, and as Victoria dropped into a crude but comfortable armchair, Haley dropped into a recently recovered wingback chair.
“Where is Claudia?” asked Haley, looking around the room.
“I’m not sure. She always comes and goes, and I never know where she is.”
A flush came to the fair-cheeked girl. She hesitated for a moment and then spoke low, with an averted face, “It’s about Lucas.”
“Lucas Durano?”
“Yes, ma’am. I haven’t heard from him since he went away,” said the girl.
“Of course, you have, Haley. Remember when I put you in a trance, and you saw him smiling widely on a fishing vessel headed to Seattle? Remember the bright blue waters flashing all around him? Don’t you remember, child?”
“Yes, I remember you told me so.”
“You didn’t believe me?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am, I believed you. But that isn’t the same as hearing from him since he went away.”
“I haven’t heard from him either, not since he departed that once and I hypnotized you to find him. Do you wish me to do that again so you can see where he might be now?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Meret. But how can you do that?”
“Same way that I did it before?”
“How was that?”
“Keep in mind that I am a most powerful clairvoyant!”
“Very well.”
“Are you ready, hun?”
“Yes,” Haley Dawn said while submitting herself to the old woman's will.
“Okay. Haley, lean your head back and place each of your arms on the edges of the chair. Look me directly in my eyes.”
Haley did as Victoria instructed.
After a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, the young and fair girl, sensitive and susceptible, soon yielded to Victoria’s powerful passes and sank into a profound hypnotic sleep.
As we all know, Victoria was a cruel and selfish woman. She had no intention whatsoever of sending Haley Dawn in search of Lucas Durano. Instead, the old crone meant to send her after the mortal remains of the late Samuel Knight. Soon she will discover his fate and claim the $100,000 in reward money.
With these riches in view, she took the small plastic sandwich bag with the lock of black hair of Samuel Knight’s and held it firmly against the forehead of Haley Dawn, the entranced young girl.
“Go and find this man!”
THE END OF PART 1 OF 3.... TO BE CONTINUED