miracle that anyone decided to stay here long enough to build homes and lives. Even things that seemed stable could be swept away by the sea and the wind. Yet, here we were—descendants of those people who lived here four hundred years ago.
It was cheating, I know, but I changed back into my shirt and jeans. Everyone else was stuck in their slightly damp evening wear, since Scott said they shouldn’t go back upstairs. My clothes were dry, and I was planning on doing some heavy cooking shortly. It seemed like I deserved this little accommodation.
My new dress was bedraggled and had a few pulled places along the hem where I’d walked through the water in the ballroom. There was also every possibility that the white stain on one side was bird poop. The birds I’d shooed out the windows had apparently gotten their revenge. I put the dress in a plastic bag and planned to visit the dry cleaners when they opened up again—whenever that was.
I took off my wet shoes—they were ruined, no help there. The shoes I’d worn over from Shayla’s were soaking too. The tennis shoes I’d left here last week when I was helping Kevin move some furniture were dry. They felt good on my cold feet.
The bridal suite was untouched by any of the events of the long night. How quickly things could change! When I’d left here last night, I was worried about my speech. Now I was worried about feeding an army and finding out if the people I cared about were all right.
Something caught my eye as I glanced up after transferring the key chain to the pocket of my jeans. It seemed to be a mote of light, but from where? The only light source was my flashlight (no emergency lighting here), and it was pointed in the opposite direction.
I watched the light drift across the room—like the spirit balls, but much smaller. This was only a pinpoint, like a twinkle from a diamond ring in the sun.
The light turned and began to come toward me. I swallowed hard and glanced away—
If I looked back maybe it would be gone.
No such luck.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, swallow or breathe for a moment as I watched it come closer. My gaze was glued to it—I fought to do something. I didn’t know if I wanted to be there when it finally reached me.
Then I did something I never thought I’d do in these circumstances—circumstances I’d waited my whole life for—I ran out of the room and slammed the door behind me.
I forgot the flashlight. I didn’t care. I didn’t stop running until I reached the kitchen where everyone was busy working.
“Is everything okay, Dae?” Marissa asked, her hands full of clean dishes.
“Fine,” I answered quickly. “Everything is fine.”
I couldn’t believe that I had gotten cold feet. Since my mother died, seeing ghosts had become almost an obsession for me. Or I guess seeing
It had been a long night. I made excuses for my cowardice as I took out several pans to start making breakfast. I was exhausted and stressed about finding Sandi. If I’d been my normal self, I would’ve waited to see what that light brought to me. I hadn’t run out of the room when Shayla and I saw the spirit balls after the seance.
Of course, I hadn’t been alone in a dark room either. That probably made a difference.
I put butter in two frying pans and began cracking eggs into a bowl. Scrambled eggs and toast would have to do for the crowd I’d be feeding. I could also start some grits and oatmeal in case we needed more than that or someone was allergic to eggs.
I put on some coffee and took all the juice out of the refrigerator. After this meal, there wouldn’t be much fresh food left, but there was plenty of canned and frozen food to fall back on. I couldn’t even begin to guess when we’d be able to leave the inn.
“We’re done with the dishes,” Marissa said, wiping her hands on a towel. “I wish there were paper plates to use for breakfast. I’ve always hated washing dishes. Do you need some help over here?”
“Maybe you could look around and find a breadlike substance for toast.” I stirred oatmeal into boiling water. “I’m sorry I got you into this. I really appreciate your help.”
“It’s starting to get light outside.” She glanced out of the window at the back of the kitchen. “I’d really like to call my grandfather and make sure he’s okay. He’s not good at remembering to take his meds. I know everyone would like to go home so we can see what’s going on.”
“I know what you mean. But I think we should stay put until we get the all-clear. Officer Randall said it’s bad out there.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But how bad? I know I haven’t lived here all of my life, but I can take it. I can walk around a car in the road.”
“You know it’s not just debris. There are power lines on the ground, ruptured mains of one kind or another. Dangerous stuff. That’s why they try to keep people off the streets after a big storm.”
“I know.” She absently stirred the grits that was beginning to bubble in the pot. “I know.”
When the meal was finally put together—buffet style, like earlier—everyone hurried to eat. Watery sunlight was calling us all outside, and no one would be happy staying in playing games now.
Many of the men wanted to volunteer their assistance in the cleanup. The women too, for that matter, although most of them were more concerned with what had happened to their families and homes. After that, they’d be ready to help out the town. I couldn’t blame them and I knew I couldn’t stop them.
Everyone wolfed down their eggs and grits. Once the food was gone, the front doors were thrown open and everyone rushed outside into the cool morning air.
It was like walking out into a massive, open-air flea market where anything and everything was available— except you might have to climb up a tree for your kitchen table or get some help flipping your car upright. I was certain all of this couldn’t have come from Duck. Surely some of the items had blown here from Corolla, Southern Shores and Kill Devil Hills.
Once everyone got over the first glimpse of what the storm had done, anyone who had a car at the inn rushed to see if it was drivable. I cautioned them that they couldn’t drive down the streets. I wasn’t surprised that no one listened.
I found my little golf cart. It was about two hundred yards away from the hitching post where I’d left it. There was a recliner in it that pretty much made it worthless, since there was no way to reach the controls.
For once, I abdicated my position as mayor. I couldn’t force all those mayors and their families to stay—I wouldn’t want to anyway. I heard some of their cars starting and knew they would take their chances on the roads, trying to get back home. I’d probably walk home once I got the inn straightened up. It was human nature to want to protect our own.
I heard a whining sound coming from the back of the inn. Worried about the generator giving out or running out of gas, I walked around the structure, picking my way through clothes, furniture and other storm-tossed rubble.
I’d spent enough time here that I knew there were two sheds in the back. One of them, obviously the one left standing, was the shed that housed the generator.
I checked the generator—it was fine. Probably just not used to running for so long. There was plenty of gas in it. Kevin’s freezers were good for a while longer. Maybe he wouldn’t lose everything.
The other shed was just a place to store tools. Kevin kept his lawnmower and other outside maintenance equipment there. The storm had flattened it—boards and shingles sticking up everywhere.
I was about to go back inside and begin the cleanup when I saw something protruding from one side of the demolished shed. I walked a little closer, At first, I wasn’t sure what it was on the soggy ground near the collapsed building. But as I looked down at it, I realized there was still a foot in that pink shoe and it was attached to a leg. I dropped down on the saturated ground, trying to catch my breath.
It seemed I’d finally found Sandi.
Chapter 8
