The old woman was getting so upset that Natalie shot Ruthie a warning glance. She nodded and changed the subject. “That’s perfectly okay, Mrs. Desroches. Let’s go back to the kidnapping.”
Interesting that the kidnapping was the less scary story. Her mother had been right about Lost Harbor’s wild past.
“What happened after you reported what you witnessed?”
“Well, we only had a single constable back then, and he didn’t get anywhere in the investigation, if you could even call it that. Really, it was simply accusations flung this way and that.”
“Where’s Betty now? Was she ever heard from again?”
“No. I don’t believe so.”
“And her family? The Dobbins?” She wrote the name down again and underlined it. “I’ve never heard of any Dobbins here. Did they all leave town?”
Once again, an uneasy look came over the old woman’s face. “The name died out, I suppose. All the girls got married and took other names.”
After another warning glance from Natalie, Ruthie decided it was time to wrap it up.
“Thank you for sharing this story with me, Mrs. Desroches. I’ve never heard about it before, and it’s absolutely fascinating. A kidnapping in Lost Harbor. Imagine that.”
The old woman leaned forward and touched Ruthie’s hand. “Thank you for letting me talk about it. I’ve always felt a tad guilty. I should have stopped Betty right then and there, but I didn’t want to get into trouble. The Dobbins, you know—”
Once again, she snapped her mouth shut.
That did it. There was a bigger story here, and Ruthie wanted to learn more about it.
“One more question. Do you know any other descendants of the explorers?” she asked Mrs. Desroches.
“Besides Mayor Shipp? I haven’t really kept track. If you want those oral histories, you’ll have to dig up a few graves.”
“I’ll stick to the living. They’re much more approachable.” With a smile, Ruthie gathered up her tape recorder and checked to make sure it had been recording all that time. “I still want to hear about Deke getting his tooth pulled in a gale.”
“Another time.” Mrs. Desroches slumped back in her chair. “I think it’s time for my nap.”
As Natalie showed her to the door, Ruthie whispered, “That was amazing. I was hoping for some tidbits about life in the early days, but I wasn’t expecting a soap opera!”
“I know! I had no idea my granny had all these secrets. I mean, Roger Buchanan? I’m truly shocked. She used to come down on me so hard for breaking my curfew and meanwhile she was out kissing people under trees!”
At that moment, Theo Bellini pulled up in his truck. Natalie’s face lit up with an expression that could only be sheer infatuation. He grinned as he strode toward them, like a black-haired giant.
“You two are back together?” Ruthie asked in surprise. The two of them had been a couple all through high school. She remembered when Natalie had dumped Theo before she left to become a weather forecaster.
“Strange, right? We’ve been dating since I came back to live with Granny. A little extra homecoming bonus.” Natalie winked at her. “I’ll tell you one thing, we have some fine-looking men here in Lost Harbor. They get all muscle-y and fit from fishing and wood-chopping and hammer-slinging. How about you? Has anyone caught your eye since you’ve been back?”
Ruthie felt her face heat up. “I’ve been mostly focused on the lighthouse museum.”
“Well, don’t forget to have some fun too. Kiss someone under a tree, you know, that sort of thing.”
“I’ll try to work that into my schedule.”
Seven
When he’d first started coming to Lost Harbor, Alastair had stayed at the Sweet Harbor Bakery and Bed and Breakfast, which was run by Jessica Dixon. He’d met her and Ethan in Lost Souls Wilderness, and she’d invited him to stay there as her guest when he came through town.
He’d loved staying there. Waking up to the aroma of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and hot coffee was a blissful experience. But then she’d closed the place for renovations and he’d been forced to find other accommodations. That was how he wound up renting Harris Badger’s tiny guesthouse, which was a former fish house perched at the edge of the bay.
Maya, his daughter and the town police chief, had shown it to him. “It’s small but it has everything you need. My boyfriend Rune and his sister stayed here before they moved in with me. It has good juju.”
“Juju?” Some American terms still mystified him.
“You know, vibes. Karma. Good fortune.”
“I’m more interested in the plumbing than the juju.”
“That works too. And Alastair…” Her brown eyes had grown serious. “If you don’t mind checking in on my dad now and then, I’d appreciate it. Even though he’s got a girlfriend now and she stays with him most nights, I still worry.”
“I’ll keep an eye on things,” he’d assured her.
So far, the only problems had been the time a moose got caught in the netting around Harris’ garden and an incident involving a water delivery. The delivery truck had gotten stuck in the snow and had to empty out its tank. All of the water had frozen into an ice slick that extended across half the property.
As he drove past Harris’ house, he waved at the man, who was busy staking his towering delphiniums. He didn’t stop, because Ruthie was coming over and he’d promised her halibut tacos.
It had been a week since he’d received the news about his windfall, and he’d done exactly nothing about it. He hadn’t responded to the letter, he hadn’t called the lawyer, he hadn’t mentioned it to a soul except for Ruthie. He didn’t want the money anyway. He had better things to do than respond to Berenson lawyers. Like pick pin bones out of black cod filets, julienne carrots, try to come up with a good kohlrabi recipe…really anything.
But he should have known his Berenson-free existence couldn’t last forever.
“Waverly.” He didn’t even try to keep the loathing out of his voice. “How the hell did you find me?”
His former step-something-or-other posed a few feet away from his door, as if she didn’t want to get her hands dirty by knocking on it. “I got dropped off by a taxi. Did you know they have only one taxi cab company in this town? No Uber, no Lyft. What kind of place is this, Alastair?”
“The kind that would bore you in two minutes.”
Waverly was Anthony’s second daughter, six years older than Alastair, though she acted and looked much younger. She cultivated a fragile air that drew men to her aid. She could cry on command, a skill she’d put to use many times to get him in trouble.
Alastair’s bullying me… Alastair stole my gold iPod… Alastair hurt my feelings. My therapist told me he’s toxic to my self-esteem… Can you move Alastair to a room that’s farther away?
After he’d left the Berensons’ Park Avenue townhouse, he came to understand that she probably didn’t hate him personally. She likely saw Carole as a threat, especially because they were trying to get pregnant. He got lumped in with Carole.