Spellbound Falls (40 page)

Olivia sat at her office desk staring at Mac’s cell phone in her hands, wondering why in tarnation it had a full signal. She’d even tried calling Inglenook just to prove it didn’t work, but the damn thing had actually rung through. Only it shouldn’t have, because the closest cell tower was more than fifty miles south of here, with any number of mountains between it and Spellbound Falls. Even Turtleback got only sketchy service at best, and they were thirty miles closer to the tower.

Not having cell phone reception was probably the number two complaint from guests when they arrived at Inglenook and discovered they really were camping in the wilderness. The number one complaint was the lack of televisions other than in the dining hall and main lodge, and then those only had DVD players for movie night.

But in the packet sent to families signed up for camp, it was clearly stated that laptops, iPods, and handheld computer games were
not
allowed. Which meant that for once Olivia agreed with Eileen: If parents wanted to connect with their kids, first everyone needed to disconnect from personal electronics.

John and Eileen had satellite in their private quarters, though, and Olivia had it at her cottage because they had to stay in touch with the real world somehow. She had argued, however, that the lodge and dining hall sets should also be hooked up to satellite in case there was breaking news everyone should know about, but she’d lost that battle to Eileen.

Olivia looked up, then sat back in surprise when Ezra walked in and plopped down in the chair across from her. “Slacking off as usual, I see,” he said in way of greeting. The cell phone caught his eye and he sat up. “Hey, what have you got there? You going techno on us, Olivia?” But then he frowned. “I didn’t know they made satellite phones that small.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just an ordinary cell,” she said, holding it up. “But it’s got a full signal, and I’m just sitting here wondering why. It’s Mac’s.” She shrugged. “Maybe they really are making satellite phones this small now.”

“Why don’t you show it to Sam,” Ezra suggested. “He seems to know electronics. He got my store computer running so fast I can’t keep up with it now.”

“How do you know Sam?” she asked in surprise.

“He was sitting in front of the trading post yesterday morning when I arrived to open up. The idiot walked all the way to town.” He shook his head. “Someone really ought to tell that fella he’s got a pretty bad limp.”

“Oh no, I can’t believe I forgot to mention he can borrow the van if he needs to go somewhere. Or he could have at least checked to see if Peg or I was going to town.”

Ezra shrugged. “He seems like an independent cuss to me. He asked if I knew of any four-wheel drives for sale in the area.” His eyes grew concerned. “And I… I’ve decided to sell him Doris’s SUV, if it’s okay with you.” He scooted forward on his chair and leaned on the desk to place his hand over hers. “But if it’s going to bother you to see that truck every day, then I won’t sell it to him,” he said thickly.

She turned her hand palm up to clasp his. “But what
about you? Aren’t you afraid your heart’s going to skip a beat when
you
see it in town?”

“It can’t hurt any more than when I pull into my garage every night to find it sitting there, knowing Doris isn’t in the house with supper waiting.”

Olivia dropped her head onto their clasped hands, her heart so heavy it hurt to breathe. “God, I miss her.”

“Now, come on,” Ezra said gruffly, standing up and coming around the desk. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped her up in his frail arms. “You know Doris would have something to say about us getting all teary-eyed over some damned truck she didn’t even like. Hell, she especially hated that it was green.” He chuckled against her hair. “She always wanted a candy-apple-red pickup with big fat tires, stack pipes, and flames painted on the fenders.” He patted her back. “But if it’s gonna bother you to see that truck, I’ll take it down to Bangor and trade it in on a new boat or something.”

“You’ll lose your shirt trading it,” she said, straightening to wipe her eyes.

He snorted. “I got more shirts in the closet.”

“Is there a problem?” Sam asked from the office doorway, his gaze locked on Olivia. “Did something happen that I could help with?”

“No, everything’s okay,” she said, wiping her face with her sleeve, then running her fingers through her hair. “Ezra’s here to see you, actually. He wants to sell you his late wife’s truck. Only you don’t need to buy a vehicle, Sam,” she said, drawing his concern from Ezra back to her. “Our employees are always welcome to use the van when they want to go into town or down to Turtleback.”

“I need to buy transportation anyway. Only that still doesn’t explain what’s wrong,” he said, gesturing at her.

Ezra walked back around the desk. “I was just making sure that seeing my wife’s truck here every day wasn’t going to bother Olivia, since she and Doris were so close.”

Sam went a bit pale, his gaze shooting to her. “Hell, I
don’t need it that bad,” he said, looking at Ezra. “Thanks anyway, but I’ll wait and find something else.”

“No, it’s just a dumb truck,” Olivia said. She smiled warmly at Ezra. “And you’re right; Doris never did like the color. I remember how she kept saying it wasn’t nearly flashy enough for her.”

“She didn’t like it?” Sam asked, addressing Ezra even as Olivia wondered at the odd tone in his voice. “I mean, it’s not pink or anything, is it?”

“It’s the dark green SUV parked out in the driveway,” Ezra said. “I drove it out here today to turn it over to you—that is, assuming we can come to terms on a price.”

Sam looked at Olivia, his eyes unreadable. “I can find another vehicle.”

“No, really. I’m good.” She gave him a sincere smile. “Because if you don’t buy it, then Ezra’s trading it for a boat or something, and he’ll lose his shirt.”

Peg poked her head in the door, then put a large stack of mail on the desk when Olivia waved her in. “Is there a reason the television in the lobby doesn’t work?” Peg asked. “I just heard something strange on the radio on my way back from town, and I want to watch CNN.”

“What’s happening?” Olivia asked.

Peg shook her head. “It was breaking news on every radio station; something about some strange… they’re calling it a phenomenon. All sorts of old nets and fishing gear are washing up on beaches all over the world.”

Olivia looked at Sam. “If I get my satellite receiver from home, can you hook it up to the television in the main room? I had the technician run a cable into the closet when they hooked up John and Eileen’s dish—without Eileen’s knowledge, of course. So we just have to make sure everything’s back in place before they get home.”

“I can hook it up,” Sam said, heading toward the main room.

“Peg, why don’t you go get Carolina and Henry so they can watch with us,” Olivia said. “You tell Henry he can
come out of his room for a couple of hours and tack on the extra time at the end of his sentence.”

“I really need to have a talk with that boy,” Peg muttered, heading after Sam. “It’s just not normal for a kid to stay in his room when his jailer is gone.”

“Is Doreen watching the store, Ezra?” Olivia asked.

He nodded. “I took today off, figuring to drive Sam to Turtleback to get the truck title changed to his name. And Grundy’s coming in later to help Doreen until closing.”

“Then you might as well pour yourself a mug of coffee and watch the news with us,” she said, waving him out ahead of her. Only she stopped and grabbed Mac’s cell phone off the desk and slipped it into her pocket.

Olivia then sprinted through the main room and out onto the porch, but nearly tripped on the stairs when she saw Doris’s SUV parked in the driveway. She continued on at a more careful pace, fighting back tears again.

Doris and Ezra had been the one constant in her life, the only anchors keeping her from disappearing completely. But when Doris had died, Olivia had felt herself starting to drift even closer to the shadows. And God help her, if anything happened to Ezra she was afraid she’d end up clinging to Sophie so tightly that she’d never let go.

And that was wrong on so many levels. Sophie needed to grow strong and independent and find her place in the world, not be tied to a needy mother. And that was exactly why Olivia was buying Inglenook: because unlike her father, she would do whatever it took for Sophie and Ezra to have a place to call home.

She went into her living room, pulled out the TV and unhooked the wire running from the satellite box, then unplugged the box and pulled it off the shelf. She ran back outside and caught up with Carolina and Peg. “Where’s Henry?” she asked.

“He went down to the barn to give his horse an apple before he comes to the lodge,” Carolina said, “claiming he’s going to make the most of his temporary freedom.”

They continued into the lodge, and Sam already had the TV pulled away from the wall and was looking in the closet. “Here,” Olivia said, setting the box on the stand. “You hook the box to the TV and I’ll get the cable. I have it taped to the bottom of one of the shelves so Eileen wouldn’t find it.”

Ezra sat down on one of the leather couches with his mug of coffee, and Peg sat down beside him and patted his knee. “Is this the most exciting place you can think of going on your day off?” she drawled.

“That you, Peg?” Ezra asked. “I didn’t recognize you without your kids.”

Henry came running in and hopped up on Carolina’s lap when she sat down next to Ezra. “Where are Peter and Jacob?” he asked Peg. “I thought I was going to get to play with them for a while before I have to go back to my room.”

“Sorry, half-pint, they’re at their Memere’s until Inglenook starts back up.”

“Oh, shoot,” Olivia muttered. “I forgot the remote.”

“Don’t bother going after it,” Sam said. He straightened to push a few buttons on the satellite box. “I’ll do it manually. Do you know what channel the news is on?”

“In the two hundreds,” she told him, sitting down in one of the overstuffed chairs.

Everyone suddenly went silent and Sam stepped away in surprise at the images on the screen of sandy beaches littered with massive nets and fishing gear.

“Sweet Athena,” Carolina whispered, clutching Henry. “What has he done?”

“No one can explain the phenomenon,” the news commentator said as the camera zoomed in on one particularly gruesome tangle of fishing line. The lens panned up the length of it, showing dead and dying fish, birds, and a large sea turtle undulating in a macabre dance as each wave pushed them farther up on shore. “But this scene at a resort in Rio de Janeiro is being repeated in just about every coastal country across the globe, from the northern Pacific to the southern Atlantic to the Indian Ocean. And now you’re seeing the view from an affiliate’s traffic helicopter as it flies
along the beach south of Miami. And that’s the white cliffs of Dover. And now San Francisco Bay… Borneo… Japan… India; it’s the same everywhere. Broken and abandoned monofilament longlines and nets, and crab and lobster traps teeming with almost every species of fish, bird, and ocean mammal are washing onto the beaches, with more being carried ashore on each incoming tide.”

The image went back to a close-up of a large white bird, its mouth gaping open in death as a thin fishing line disappeared down its throat. “Oceanographers,” the commentator continued, “are trying to understand what’s happening. We have Frank Dieter, an expert on ocean currents, here with us now. Dr. Dieter, can you tell us how something like this can be happening at the same time all over the globe?”

“That’s just it,” he said, shaking his head as he stared at the images on the monitor in front of him. “It
can’t
be happening. Ocean currents are for the most part circular. This junk—some of which shouldn’t even float—would travel parallel to the shoreline instead of toward it. Unless there was a hurricane or typhoon that brought debris in with the storm surge, this shouldn’t be happening, especially not on so many beaches, all within the last twenty-four hours. It’s simply impossible.”