The Precipice Page 5

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  On her way out the front door of the inn, Elizabeth noticed there were two squad cars parked on the circular driveway. Chief Austin must be back to continue the search for the girl. She headed in the direction of the garden, a half-acre plot located twenty-five yards behind the main building of the inn and surrounded by a white picket fence. An oversized gate on the side facing the inn enabled the roto-tiller to pass through the opening for the spring tilling. Elizabeth was pleased to find her grandmother puttering busily in her garden. Amelia looked up as her granddaughter reached the gate and smiled warmly. She took off her gardening gloves and placed them next to the basket she was using to collect herbs and squash, but left her wide-brimmed rattan hat on her head, meeting Elizabeth at the gate.

  “Well, hello, Elizabeth. You’re finally up and about.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid you missed brunch, through.”

  “Oh, Rashelle made sure I didn’t. She brought a tray to my room.”

  Amelia chuckled. “What a good friend. She really looks out for you.”

  “Yes, she does. It’s great to see her—to see everyone.”

  “It’s wonderful for us to see you, too. It’s been a long time. We’ve missed you.” Amelia paused. She sensed she might be making Elizabeth feel a little guilty so she quickly changed the subject. “Let’s take a walk down to the light,” she urged as she closed the gate behind her. Elizabeth was always up for a walk, but this time she had a feeling that the conversation would not be pleasant. They started across the side yard toward the path to the lighthouse. The breeze off the ocean tugged at the brim of Amelia’s hat. She reached up and held it down with the palm of her hand until they reached the path where the trees protected them from the wind off the water.

  “Elizabeth, thank you so much for coming up on such short notice like this.”

  “Nana, I would do anything for you. You know that.”

  “And I really appreciate that. Things are somehow always better when you’re around.” They shared a smile between them. Amelia had a tired twinkle in her eye. “Elizabeth, I don’t know how much Rashelle told you last evening, but there are some things that are going on that I think you should know about.” She glanced over to see if there was a nod of acknowledgement from her granddaughter.

  “Shelle did tell me about the missing guest and, of course, the real estate attorney…”

  “Yeah, he’s been a bit annoying…rather persistent, that one. If I didn’t know better, I would wonder if the disappearance has anything to do with him. I have a feeling he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

  “Nana!” Elizabeth scolded. Her feet stopped abruptly on the path.

  Amelia stopped a few feet away. She turned back to see her granddaughter’s look of disbelief and disappointment. “Oh, I’m not entirely serious. He has just worn me to a frazzle. I don’t know where to turn at this point. He calls, writes letters. He won’t let up.” She grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and started her moving back down the path. “That’s why I asked you to come. I just need a little help with this one. It’s getting to be too much for me. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  Elizabeth hated to hear those words. She knew they were true. She couldn’t imagine the inn without Nana. She couldn’t imagine life without Nana. She took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts out of her mind for the moment.

  “I’m a little concerned about this girl’s disappearance. With these woods and the rocks at the lighthouse…well, it just doesn’t seem like there could be a happy ending in all of this. It has already been since Thursday afternoon since anyone has seen her. What if one of the other guests did something to her? I can’t even bear that thought. I haven’t let Chief Austin near the guests yet. I really don’t want to involve them…upset them until we absolutely have to. Of course, he thinks I’m jeopardizing the entire investigation.”

  “I hate to say it, Nana, but he may have a point. If one of the guests did do something, he’s not going to stick around long enough to be interrogated the next day.” Amelia shot her a look of concern.

  Elizabeth suddenly wished she hadn’t gone so far. “But really, that probably isn’t the situation anyway. It may just be a matter of the girl wandering off, not knowing the area, and finding herself somewhere that she is not familiar. Thank goodness it’s summer so the nights aren’t terribly cold. It could be a lot worse. The Chief and his men will find her this morning. You’ll see,” she reassured her grandmother. She only wished she could believe her own words. She didn’t have a good feeling about any of this.

  A snap of a twig in the woods a few yards in startled the two so they stopped and listened. They couldn’t see anything. The woods got thick just a few steps off of the path so whatever made the sound was out of sight. They both dismissed the sound as a couple of scampering squirrels and started back down the path.

  Elizabeth was anxious to keep the conversation going so she continued even though they were walking single file down a narrow section of the path. “So, now what about Girard?” she asked speaking loudly to send her voice over her grandmother’s shoulder.

  “Oh, I spoke to his brother, Renard, this morning and he told me Girard had returned. He said his errand to find the right parts for the riding lawn mower took longer than expected. He had to travel quite a distance and try a few places before he was successful.”

  Elizabeth shuddered to herself. The mere mention of Renard’s name gave her the creeps. She just wished he would leave her alone. She wished he didn’t work at the inn. She would have to try to avoid him while she was there. “So you haven’t actually seen him. But Renard says he’s back.”

  “Yes. I have no reason not to believe him.” She turned and looked back with a puzzled expression on her face. “Besides, I think I have more important things to worry about right now.”

  Elizabeth had to agree.

  Amelia stopped at the bluff overlooking the lighthouse. The two Penningtons leaned against the railing looking out to sea. “You know. I hate to admit it, but this guy has me thinking about what it would be like if I did sell the place.”

  “Oh, Nana, you don’t mean it!”

  She paused to gather her thoughts. “Elizabeth…I have been doing this my whole life. Believe it or not, I’m getting tired.” She took her granddaughter by the shoulders and looked squarely into her eyes. She spoke softly. “There is no one to take over. It takes an awful lot to run a place like this. I’m not sure I have what it takes anymore. Maybe it’s time for a change…for all of us. You have your career in the city and there is nothing wrong with that. No one is asking or expecting you to give up everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

  Elizabeth felt herself reeling, “Well, Rashelle is working out well. You could give her more responsibility and I could check in from time to time.” She was desperate to change her grandmother’s mind. She was giving in too easily.

  “Lizzi, you can’t do a good job of running a place this size by checking in once in a while. You would spread yourself too thin and do neither job well. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t had a long time to think about this. It’s not exactly a snap decision.”

  “But the inn has been in the Pennington family for generations,” she choked on her words. A tremendous wave of guilt flooded over her. She had left home and gone off to the big city in search of a place to establish herself as a designer, leaving everyone behind to carry on with the inn. Now her grandmother was considering the wild suggestion of a greedy attorney whose only intentions were personal gain. “I could make it work,” she continued to plead. Her world was slipping out from underneath her. She grew up here. How could she possibly say goodbye to all of this? Her heart was breaking wide open. She was fighting back the tears.

  “Elizabeth, things would be different if your parents were alive. Unfortunately things turned out differentl
y than we all expected. Life works that way sometimes.” She felt as though she was throwing far too much at her granddaughter. So much of this was falling on Elizabeth’s shoulders even though she had no control over it.

  This was probably not the best time to broach the subject, but Elizabeth really wanted to know what had happened to her mother and father so many years ago when she was too young to remember or understand. She needed to know now. “Nana, could you tell me what happened to my parents? I know we never speak of it…but I really would like to know.”

  “Oh, I know we never really talked about it over the years. And you deserve to know. Unfortunately, no one really knows exactly what happened. Do you remember them at all?” She was changing the subject slightly. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “Your parents loved you so very much. Either one would have given their life for you.”

  Elizabeth stared intently at her grandmother as Amelia paused to gather her thoughts. Voices from below caused them both to turn. They saw the police chief and the inn’s tennis pro making their way up the path from the lighthouse toward them. Chief Austin was a man of insignificant stature and a little extra weight around his middle. He had a large round head with a receding hairline of stringy, almost oily, short, white hair. He was carrying a clear plastic bag at his side that he held close to his leg as if he were trying to be as discreet as possible about it. There was something light purple in the bag, some sort of fabric. Perhaps an article of clothing. Evidence? The two seemed like an odd couple of people to hook up. She wondered if the chief was questioning Kurt. There was something about Kurt that Elizabeth found intriguing. She was trying very hard to push away the feeling, but it surfaced involuntarily. Her stomach felt like a couple of Monarchs had just emerged from their cocoons. She willed herself to get a hold of herself. She had a nagging feeling that he could be a suspect. Something was making her feel very uncomfortable. The two men stopped at the bluff to join them.

  “Well, good morning, gentlemen,” Amelia offered.

  “Good morning, ladies,” the chief responded.

  “Ladies,” Kurt nodded and remained slightly behind the chief. Elizabeth averted her eyes from his.

  “Amelia, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.” The chief kept to the business at hand.

  “Certainly.” Amelia turned to Elizabeth and took her hands in hers. “Lizzi, I’m sorry. Why don’t we have dinner this evening on the veranda? Anthony is doing a clambake on the beach so it should be rather quiet there. We can continue our conversation then.”

  “Sure, Nana. You go ahead,” trying desperately to hide her disappointment. She watched the trio head back up the path toward the inn, wondering why Kurt was tagging along.

  It was such a beautiful day, Elizabeth decided to continue her walk to the lighthouse. She only wished she had brought along some drawing supplies. She really needed to get started getting some design ideas down on paper. Her conversation with Vera was weighing heavy on her mind.

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  The path Elizabeth had been following brought her down the steep hill, out of the woods, to a small clearing. Just off the end of the path to the right was a small shed that had been used to store kerosene, back in the days when a full-time lighthouse keeper tended to the light before it was automated. Kerosene was deliberately stored far enough away from the lighthouse so that a fire in the shed wouldn’t take the lighthouse with it. In those days, lighthouses were essential to ships passing near the shore. They were not equipped with sophisticated navigational equipment like they have in present day to warn of impending danger.

  Directly in front of her was the lighthouse at the end of a breakwater that jutted two hundred yards out into the water. It stood majestically before her like an old friend. A fortress of sorts. A form of refuge to a young girl escaping a bit of her childhood. A fortress to a young woman who needed some time to herself to get her head on straight. The tower was not open to the public, but she knew where the key was kept and proceeded to push open the door to the shed. The inside of the little shed was quite dark but her eyes were adjusting quickly. She could just make out some tools hanging on the walls, boxes of who knows what stacked up against the far wall. It wasn’t a large space by any stretch of the imagination, approximately fifteen feet by twenty feet. After groping in the semi-darkness for a few seconds, Elizabeth’s hand touched the familiar key hanging from the nail to the left of the door. It was still kept where it had been for years. The door to the lighthouse was kept locked at all times. Guests were given tours upon request by a member of the staff. It was a favorite spot for painters and photographers as well.

  She lifted the key off the nail hook and stepped back out into the bright sunshine. Her eyes took a moment to readjust to the light. She pulled the shed door closed and headed out to the breakwater toward the lighthouse. It was a treacherous walk across large boulders with blunt edges lying at precarious angles. She would have to keep her eyes focused on her feet and where she was placing them. Many times as a teenager, she was in a hurry to get out to the lighthouse and caught a foot between two rocks, falling in her haste to escape the inn, scraping knees and hands in the process. She had the scars to prove it.

  Elizabeth headed out across the rocks, starting slowly, but picking up the pace after she got rhythm in her step. It was like hopscotch with consequences. One wrong move and she would be suffering a scrape on her knee or a twisted ankle. She chose her steps carefully, looking up briefly from time to time to check her progress. The closer she got, the tinglier her body became. After a few minutes of total concentration and careful placement of her feet, she found herself at the door of the lighthouse. She inserted the key into the lock of the huge wooden door and turned. There was an audible click and she pulled with all her might to open the door. The bright sunshine penetrated the entryway as she opened the door slowly. There was a cold, musty, but familiar smell that hit her in the face upon entering. Again, her eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the darkness of the tower. She turned and pulled the door closed. It made a familiar, loud thud. She locked it from the inside and tucked the key securely inside the pocket of her capris. She’d rather not have any company; she wanted to enjoy the solitude of the lighthouse—just like years ago when her grandmother would come looking for her for dinner. At first, the lighthouse was the last place she looked. Maybe it was because of the rocky hike to get out there. Eventually, Amelia caught on and the lighthouse became the first place she looked for her granddaughter. Elizabeth headed toward the narrow wooden steps that spiraled to the top of the light. Her footsteps echoed in the base of the tower.

  Elizabeth was a little winded when she reached the top of the stairs, but it felt good to be back at the light. She could see the world from way up there. She pushed open the door and stepped out onto the outside balcony, a narrow walkway with a railing around the top of the light, sixty feet above the rocks below. The sheer height of the balcony from the rocks could make almost anyone feel lightheaded. Elizabeth immediately felt right at home. She headed around to the side facing the open ocean, passing an apparent work area complete with yellow tape across a section of the missing railing. She made a mental note to avoid that section on the way back. Reaching the far side of the light, she backed up against the outer wall, bent her knees, and eased herself down into a seated position with her legs crossed. She took a deep breath. With everything that was going on at the inn, she had some things to think about and this was a great place to do it.

  Her grandmother needed her help. She was about to throw in the towel and give up the inn. She is focusing more energy and time on locating the missing teen than getting the attorney big wig off her back. It’s time to figure out what’s going on. Chief Austin doesn’t have a lot of experience solving a missing person’s case, much less a murder...murder at Pennington Point Inn? Could it be possible? It was important to consider and evaluate each piece of evidence objectiv
ely.

  Her gut was telling her that the Renard/Girard situation may not really be resolved. She needed to follow through on that. She couldn’t just take her grandmother’s word who took Renard’s word. Also, she wondered what the deal was with Mitchell. Is he legitimate? Is he really a tennis pro? One way to find out. She could take a lesson...What about the previous pro? What was his name? Aaron something or other. What happened to him? Who are the parents whose daughter is missing? Who is the daughter? Who are the other guests? Who is the attorney that is harassing her grandmother? These questions needed answers.

  Elizabeth was feeling overwhelmed. She gazed out to sea and enjoyed the breeze off the water caressing her face. She was completely secluded on the far side of the light in her own little refuge. She stretched out her legs toward the water with her back still against the outer wall. It was early afternoon so the sun was still high in the sky, but on its way back down to the horizon. The warmth felt good to her. She soaked it up and started to drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 5

  The loud thud of the lighthouse door startled Elizabeth. Her eyes flew open. At first it brought her back in time and she thought it was her grandmother. Then she gasped, realizing she had locked the door on the way in and she had the key! Her eyes grew wide. She jumped to her feet and tiptoed to the balcony doorway and quietly stepped to the top of the stairwell inside the lighthouse. She held her breath and listened. She couldn’t see anything in the dark and there were no audible footsteps. Was someone waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her? Who had another key? Did someone break in? Her mind was racing. She wanted to hear a sound, any sound. What am I going to do? There was nowhere for her to go. She was trapped. Trapped on a walkway that was high above the rocks below and entirely unsafe with the railing under repair. She wondered what had she been thinking when she decided to ascend the stairs.