The Drifter (17 page)

“As much as I hate to say it”—Andy sighed—“I guess it was a good thing Joss was there.”

Carolyn didn't answer.

Andy looked down at their lunch. Now that Carolyn had finished her story, they'd both lost their appetites.

“Where's this guy from?” Andy finally asked.

“I don't know. He's just a drifter. I don't know anything about him. Except that he's … I don't know. Strange.”

They were silent for a moment. Then Andy said softly, “You're afraid of him, aren't you.”

Carolyn hesitated … nodded.

“You don't know anything about him,” Andy went on carefully.

“No.”

“Except that he saved your life.”

“He might have saved my life, but he still gives me the creeps.”

“Then tell him to leave,” Andy said reasonably. “I'm not real keen on the idea of him being in the house alone with you anyway.”

“Well … Mom seemed to think he was okay—she
wanted
him to stay.”

“Yeah, well, don't forget what happened to the captain's wife when she let
her
drifter stay.”

At Carolyn's startled expression, Andy reached over and gave her a playful hug.

“I'm kidding! It's a joke! Look”—he sighed—“I just want you to be careful, that's all. Your mom's gonna see the positive side of
anything
if it means she can get that house ready for business.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I'm sorry, it's none of my business and I shouldn't be so critical—I don't know the guy, either, but if you feel that uncomfortable about him, then you should tell him to leave.”

“I can't just tell him that.”

“Sure you can. You look at him, and you smile, and you say, ‘Joss, leave.'”

“It's not that simple, Andy. We really need Joss there. We need him to finish the house.”

“Nothing's worth that, and you know it. Nothing's worth being afraid—
especially
in your own house.”

“Well, I can't do it,” Carolyn said miserably. “Not after he saved Mom's life and mine, too.”

She stared down at her uneaten food. Then she wadded everything up in the greasy paper and angrily stuffed it into the litter can behind their bench.

“Come on, Carolyn, you've got to eat,” Andy coaxed, but she shook her head and stood up. “Great”—Andy sighed—“now you're mad.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Carolyn shook her head adamantly. “No, I'm not. And if I am, it's only at myself. Sometimes I think I'm losing my mind, Andy—I don't know what to think about anything, and I'm suspicious
of everything!
I'm not even sure the things I heard last night were real. Or the things I saw that first night, either. Sometimes I can't tell anymore if I'm awake or asleep. I mean, maybe
you're
not real—maybe I'm dreaming you right now.”

She took off up the hill and heard him running after her.

“Carolyn, wait up. Hey, don't be like that.”

“Be like what? Confused? Scared? This whole thing is so stupid and mixed up, I can't stand it.”

She kicked angrily at a rock and watched it bounce against a nearby building. Several passersby turned to stare at her, and after a brief moment of indecision, Andy put his arm around her shoulders.

“Look, Carolyn, have I brought this up before? Grief—moving—worry—mom in hospital—you've been under a
ton
of stress. Not to mention the fact that your house is falling down around your ears,
and
you inherited a housekeeper who's the spitting image of your worst nightmare.”

Carolyn kept walking but managed a smile at the last remark.

“So give yourself permission to feel a little vulnerable right now. A little mixed-up. A little bit paranoid.”

Believing makes you vulnerable.…

Carolyn stopped, frowning. Andy gave her a gentle shake and leaned in close to her face.

“Hey … you fading out on me? What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean … just something Joss said once.”

“Joss again.” Andy groaned. “Now
I'm
getting paranoid.”

He stopped walking and pulled her back to face him. His blue eyes crinkled up, and his irresistible grin slowly widened. He pulled her close in a bear hug and planted a firm kiss on her cheek.

“Come on. Let's have some fun, what do you say?”

His arms were warm and strong.
Don't think about Joss.…
Pressed against him, Carolyn felt wonderfully and incredibly safe.
I refuse to think about Joss.…
She shifted just enough to peer into Andy's face, and then she smiled.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“Don't thank me.”

“No, I really mean it.”

“I know you do, but don't thank me anyway.”

He laughed and let her go, grabbing her hand and dragging her up the street.

“Where are we going?” Carolyn asked, trying to keep up as the incline grew steeper.

“You wanted to know about the history of your house, didn't you?” Andy teased.

“Yes, but what's up here?”

“The churchyard.”

“What?”

“You heard me. The churchyard. Where Carolyn Glanton is buried.”

“Do I really want to see this?” Carolyn asked uncertainly.

“Sure you do. It's the prettiest place in the whole village.”

Carolyn had her doubts, but when they finally reached the top of the hill, she had to admit Andy was right. The little church was set far back from the road on a secluded side street, its weathered stone walls surrounded by thick green foliage, its steeple rising and disappearing into a leafy canopy of trees. Surprisingly, there were no tourists up this way. The air was very still, and birds sang softly overhead. As Andy led the way around the building, Carolyn saw the low stone wall enclosing the side yard of the church, and the uneven rows of crumbling headstones resting quietly in the cool shadows.

“It's beautiful,” she breathed, and Andy nodded, smiling.

“Didn't I tell you? It's the oldest building on the island, and probably the most peaceful spot.”

“Do people still get buried here?”

He shook his head and held out his hand to her, leading her deeper and deeper through the graves.

“These are also the oldest
residents
of the island. There's a new cemetery over on the mainland where all the locals have to be buried now. This one's full.”

Carolyn could hardly speak, she was so overcome with its beauty. She followed Andy silently, weaving in and out between the ancient markers, and when they finally neared the back of the yard, he let go of her hand and hurried ahead.

“It's right over here!” he hissed back over her shoulder. “It's one of the prettiest graves in the whole place. Legend says that for years and years someone left flowers at her grave on the eve of Carolyn's death—and no one ever found out who it was.”

Carolyn shivered. The story was romantic but also unnerving. She'd had enough of ghostly things to last a lifetime; she wanted to stay in the real world for a while.

“Andy,” she called softly, “I don't think I want to see it. Let's go back.”

She waited for him to answer, but there was only silence.

“Andy?” she tried again. “Are you trying to scare me?”

Carolyn stopped in her tracks and slowly wrapped her arms around herself, her voice going thin and tight.

“Andy, stop it. You just said I'm stressed out, so why are you playing this stupid game with—”

He burst through the shrubbery so unexpectedly that she screamed and jumped away.

“Andy! What are you trying to … Andy?”

Alarmed, she stared into his too-white face. He was gesturing behind him, but no sound was coming from his open mouth.

“Andy?” Carolyn's voice shook. “What is it?”

All he could do was point. Spurred by some morbid curiosity, Carolyn pushed past him and swept the low-hanging branches aside, only to stop again a few yards farther with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She saw the marker on the ground before her … saw the inscription, dark and stained, yet still readable after all these many years …

BELOVED CAROLYN

But it wasn't the inscription that held her there, that froze the scream rising fast in her throat—

It was the grave.

The grave below Carolyn Glanton's headstone …

The long, muddy hole that yawned black … and deep … and empty.

18

“W
ELL
…” A
NDY SIGHED, PAUSING ON THE SIDEWALK
outside the sheriff's office. “You've got to admit, when I promise a girl a good time, I always supply plenty of excitement.”

Carolyn threw him a look, and he grinned sheepishly.

“Okay, okay, not funny. And I know what you're thinking, and you're right. There are better ways to spend a weekend than being interrogated like two criminals.”

“They know it wasn't us, Andy,” Carolyn said, trying to make him feel better. “They said it was probably a prank.” She shook her head angrily as they started down the street. “A prank! Who in their right mind would do such a horrible thing?”

“Well, they didn't say whoever did it was in his right mind,” Andy corrected her.

“It's sick,” Carolyn muttered. “It makes
me
sick just thinking about it.”

They walked several blocks in silence before Carolyn stopped and took his hand.

“I'm sorry, Andy. You're the one who found it in the first place. You're the one who got the shock.”

“The worst shock was when I almost fell in,” Andy said truthfully.

They looked at each other, and then they both burst out laughing.

“It's not funny,” Carolyn insisted. “But if I don't laugh, I'll cry.” She leaned up against a streetlamp and covered her face with her hands. “Why
now
, Andy? Why does this have to happen
now?
After everything else that's happened in that stupid house—”

“Oh, come on, it's a coincidence,” Andy soothed her. “It doesn't have anything to do with you.”

“And you really believe that?”

He grew quiet. He watched as she uncovered her face … as she gazed pleadingly back at him.

“Festivals always bring out the worst in people,” he teased. “What do you bet it was a dare? Kids at a party or out riding around, having a little too much fun—hey, it could even have been some weird kind of scavenger hunt. It could have been
anyone's
grave they fooled around with—”

“But it wasn't,” Carolyn said firmly. “They picked Carolyn's grave, and they must have picked it for a reason.”

“Yeah. It's the one most isolated, the farthest back from traffic, and the least noticeable!”

She looked like she wanted to believe him but couldn't quite manage it.

“You really think so?” she asked.

Andy threw his hands up in the air. “Well, why else? And if you mention ghosts one more time, I'll make you walk all the way home!”

This time she smiled. She leaned against him, and he felt her shiver.

“Cold?” Andy drew her close and hugged her.

“Sort of. But mostly just wondering where she is.”

“Where who is?”

“You know,” Carolyn said seriously. “Carolyn Glanton. Where is she now? Where did they take her?”

“God, you're morbid.” It was Andy's turn to shiver now, and they started walking again. “There couldn't be much left of her, could there? I mean, it
has
been a long time—we're talking a century here, at least—”

“But they took her coffin, too.”

“There probably
wasn't
a coffin. After all this time, it's probably gone. I have a feeling, whoever dug up that grave was really disappointed once they got in there.” He gazed at her a minute, then shuddered again. “Can we not talk about this anymore, please? I'm going to have nightmares for a month.”

Carolyn forced a smile, but her heart wasn't in it. She didn't want to ruin the rest of their day, but she couldn't stop thinking about Carolyn Glanton's grave.
Coincidence?
Andy's explanation made sense, she supposed, yet her own instincts told her something else—something dark and dangerous—something that made her suspicious and afraid.

“You game for the Ferris wheel?” Andy interrupted her thoughts, and Carolyn was surprised to see that they'd walked all the way to the carnival at the other end of the village.

She nodded and forced a smile. “If you are. I better warn you, though—Ferris wheels make me queasy.”

Andy gave her a look of mock horror. “After what we just went through, what could make you queasier than that?”

“You're absolutely right,” Carolyn said determinedly. “Let's go have some fun.”