Page 32 of Light of Day (Sea Smoke Island #1)

The fire at the Bloodshot Eyeball was already out by the time they arrived.

Heather spotted her mother in the crowd and ran to her side.

Feeling her mom sob on her shoulder did something deep to her.

Despite all the drama between them, she knew how hard Sally had worked on the place, and how much pride it gave her.

Now part of the roof had caved in, and smoke still filtered from the charred remains of the back deck. The planters had been knocked over, probably by the firemen, and dirt and geraniums spilled out, bright notes of vivid color against the sad grays and blacks of the fire’s aftermath.

“The fire guys said someone set a fire in the kitchen, but I don’t even know how they got in.”

“The same thing happened at Luke’s house. We think it was a warning.”

“A warning?” Sally drew back, swiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her hot pink sweater. “About what?”

“Don’t worry too much about it. This is about me, not you.”

“Honey, have you forgotten I’m your mother? If it’s about you, it’s about me. Lordy, what is wrong with you?”

Heather gave her another hug, her heart swelling.

When she’d told her mother she’d stick around and help, she’d meant for a few days.

But looking at the mess the fire had left behind, a few days would barely scratch the surface.

She’d have to stay longer, and she would stay longer, and most shockingly of all, she wanted to stay longer.

This trip to Sea Smoke, things felt different.

She linked her arm through her mother’s. “You know, this might be a good opportunity to make some changes to the old Eyeball. If I stay and help, will you consider my ideas?”

“You and your ideas.” Sally rolled her eyes, but she was mostly smiling as she did so. “Are you going to be pushing for trivia night again?”

“Sky’s the limit.”

“Honey, you can do whatever you want. Turn it into a TV studio if you want.”

“It’s a podcast, not a TV show.”

“For now.”

Just then, the firefighters called Sally over to look at something, and Heather turned to find Luke at her side.

“Any other fires reported on the island tonight?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said gravely. “It seems that Denton’s house has burned to the ground.

No one was there to call the fire department until it was too late.

My current theory is that these other fires were both a warning and a distraction to keep the firefighters occupied.

More than one person must have been involved. ”

“Oh my God. Why would they burn down a dead man’s house?

” Her mind spun like a roulette wheel and landed on an answer.

“They wanted to destroy something that they thought was in his house. Evidence. Maybe the North Point meeting was so he could deliver something, but he didn’t bring it and they killed him.

Then they couldn’t find it in his house so they just burned the whole thing down.

” She sucked in a breath. “What about his cat?”

“Savannah’s fine,” he said quickly. “I dropped her off at Carrie’s earlier. She said she’d take care of her for now, until someone permanent steps up.” He lifted his eyebrows at her.

“I can’t have a cat,” she said wistfully. “My entire life is up in the air right now.”

“Did I say anything?” He put on an innocent expression that she didn’t buy for one second.

“Your eyebrows did.”

“So you speak eyebrow?” he teased.

“I do. And some eyebrows should keep their opinions to themselves.”

He threw up his hands. “Forget my eyebrows said anything. Listen, I think we should get some sleep and regroup in the morning. We’re both exhausted.”

She nodded. “I can catch a ride with my mother. Text me when you’re ready to get going tomorrow.”

He hesitated, and she knew what he wanted to say— stay with me. Let’s finish what we started.

She wanted to, lord knew, but tonight, her mother needed her. She shouldn’t be alone. “Mom…”

“Of course.” He understood immediately. “I’ll catch you in the morning. I’ll be up early going through my notes, so don’t worry about waking me.” He took her hand and shocked her by bringing it to his lips. “It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Heather McPhee.”

She watched him stride toward his truck—which was starting to feel like a second home to her after all they’d been through over the past few days.

“That’s a good-looking man,” her mother murmured next to her. Soot smudged her cheek.

“Mmmm. Can we leave or do you need to stay here with the firemen?”

“No, they want everyone to leave. Would you mind driving? My hands won’t stop shaking.”

“Of course.” With that, she knew she’d made the right decision, even though watching Luke swing his long legs into his truck made her heart pump double time.

Her mother was too agitated to sleep. While Heather made some chamomile tea for her, she paced around the kitchen and popped one Nicorette gum after another.

Partly to distract her, Heather filled her in on some of the information they’d discovered about the island’s history. “You know how everyone says the hotel came first, before anything else was built here? Well, it seems that might not be true after all. There might have already been people here.”

“If there was, it wasn’t us,” Sally declared. “I have the family Bible. Grandpa Hector was born in nineteen-oh-seven in York, Maine. My father Arthur was the first one born on the island in the nineteen-thirties.”

“Hector was Hennessy’s son, right?”

“That’s right. He was my grandfather and he lived a long time almost to a hundred. I think you were six or so when he died. He’s the one who told you all those stories that scared you. You used to wake up screaming from nightmares after you spent any time with him.”

“Nightmares?”

“Oh yeah. You used to wake up talking about the house falling into the ocean.”

A shock ran through her. That dream. The one she’d had over and over, with only a few changes in the details.

The little girl in the pinafore tugging at her hand. The dark stormy night. The house moving toward the ocean. The word “telephone.”

It wasn’t some movie she’d seen as a little girl.

It wasn’t her subconscious telling her that her home was unstable, as one therapist had suggested.

It wasn’t about her missing father, her family issues, her ambivalence about the island, or her inner child trying to lead her toward her creative potential.

It was one of her great-grandfather’s stories.

He must have seen things on the island as a child, or maybe his own father, Hennessy, had talked about them. For whatever reason—he did drink a lot—Hector had told them to his great-granddaughter.

Did that mean it was all real? Or maybe partially real? Her imagination and her dream consciousness might have changed things.

When her mother finally relaxed, curled up on the recliner under a crocheted blanket, with continuous episodes of Top Chef playing on the TV, Heather pulled out her laptop and did a Google search.

“Move” and “houses” and “Maine.”

All she got was a bunch of real estate and moving company references, so she tried again.

“Move” and “houses” plus “Maine” plus “McPhee.”

An opinion piece from an archival site of old newspapers appeared on her screen.

“Efforts to rid Lightkeeper Bay of the iniquitous presence of incestuous and violent interlopers reached a new milestone today. Dr. Hennessy McPhee has been hired by the concerned citizenry to assess the mental fitness of said residents. Officials say he has developed a simple test involving very basic questions that each adult and child will be required to answer. He’s been empowered to report any incompetency he finds among the populace, if they can be called such, as they are reportedly living a licentious and sinful life away from the watchful eyes of God-fearing folk.

Our beloved Maine society will be much improved once the islands have been cleared of all such dens of iniquity.

We wish Dr. McPhee fair skies and following seas as he bravely tackles such a mighty task.

We join the respected entrepreneur John Carmichael in calling for Sea Smoke Island to be Dr. McPhee’s first stop.

Such natural beauty should not be soiled by such beastly behavior as has been reported and confirmed by passing sailors.

As for those who ask, what are these folks to do if their unwelcome settlements are abolished?

The solution is simple. Those who meet the criteria should immediately be transferred to an institute equipped to care for them.

Those who do not should feel free to take their houses and move them elsewhere.

We are not without mercy. But any community that has proven themselves to be such a menace to decent society must be dispersed. ”

Signed, the Editorial Board of the Harbortown Press-Gazette.

Holy shit. She sat back and stared at the words on her screen.

Hennessy McPhee had been part of an effort to uproot entire communities in the offshore islands of Lightkeeper Bay.

He’d sent some of them to the School for the Feeble-Minded, and the rest had been forced to relocate their homes.

They must have floated them away from Sea Smoke, and that was the story Hennessy had passed along, which had then turned into her recurring nightmare.

But how on earth could anyone get away with that? Was it an eminent domain situation? Wouldn’t the homeowners have fought back with every means at their disposal?

There was more to this story than met the eye, she knew it. But right now, she had to share it with Luke. She’d found that missing connection between her ancestors and his. Hennessy McPhee and John Carmichael had colluded to clear the way for the construction of the Lightkeeper Inn.

She could just call him. But this was so huge that she wanted to tell him in person. All was calm now. She’d double-locked the kitchen door, and would do the same with the front door when she left. The night’s drama seemed to be over.

Giving it a little more time, she did some more searches on her computer, until her mom was asleep, snoring gently in the recliner. She scribbled a note on a piece of paper and tucked it into the blanket. Went to Luke’s, be back soon. Call right away if you need anything.

As she was pulling her hand away, her mother grabbed it, making her startle. “What’s…what are you…”

“I need to talk to Luke about something. Will you be okay here for a little bit?”

Her mother’s sleepy gaze struggled to focus on her. “Sure thing, I’m fine, honey. But aren’t you getting a little too close to that boy? He’s a Carmichael. He’ll always be a Carmichael.”

“That’s not fair, Mom. He’s more than his last name, just like I’m more than a McPhee. So are you, by the way.”

“Carmichaels and McPhees…” Sally’s eyes were drifting closed again. “My grandpa always said never trust a Carmichael. He said they’ll knife you in the back over a dollar.”

A shiver ran down Heather’s spine. “You never told me he said that.”

“I didn’t have to. You weren’t hanging out with any of the Carmichaels.

They always looked down on us. My grandpa hated them, but he was scared of them too.

Every time he drank his rum, he’d start talking about how the Carmichaels ruined his father’s life.

” Her voice got softer as she drifted back toward sleep.

“How, Mom? Can you remember how?” Her mother had never mentioned any of this before, and Heather was afraid if she fell back asleep, she never would again. Maybe the fire had rattled loose a memory.

“Gossip, rumors…ruined his reputation. Smeared his character. Drove him to drink. My grandpa always said the McPhees would have been fine upstanding members of the community if not for the Carmichaels. Everything started with them. The drinking, the alcoholism, he blamed it all on the Carmichaels. I told him he was wrong because he should take responsibility for himself. Told the same thing to my father. Alcoholics like to blame everyone else. Same as your dad, sorry to say. You have to take accountability. That’s what I tried to do…

I really tried…I wish you could see it…”

“I do, Mom. I do see it.”

Sally smiled just before her eyelids closed completely. Her mother was asleep, having dropped a series of little bombshells that she might not even remember tomorrow.

And right now, it felt like the only person she wanted to talk to about it was Luke.