Page 47 of The Lighthouse on Plum Island
“That’s a good idea,” Caroline agreed as they started to climb the stairs to her house.
“The sooner you have the boardwalk fixed, the better,” Jennifer puffed as she climbed the stairs behind Caroline. “I know it will make Aunt Betty’s life easier. I don’t like her walking up and down those steps every day.”
“Your Aunt has walked along the cove every day since she was a child,” Caroline reminded Jennifer. “I think out of all of us, she’s the fittest navigating those stairs each day.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jennifer. “Even when the boardwalk was functional, Aunt Betty used the stairs. She said the boardwalk was touristy and for people who couldn’t use the stairs.”
“Yes, that sounds like something my aunt would say.” Jennifer sighed.
Caroline and Jennifer were nearly at the top of the stairs when Sandy’s ears perked, and a low growl echoed in her throat before she skillfully dashed up the last of the stairs.
“What on Earth?” Caroline turned and looked at Jennifer.
Blue Beard shrieked in her ear and flapped his powerful wings while Melton leapt from Caroline’s arms, and they took off after Sandy. As Sandy’s barks echoed through the night, Carolineand Jennifer quickened their pace up the stairs, their curiosity piqued. The floodlights illuminated the front garden, casting long shadows that danced like ethereal spirits along the cliffs.
Blue Beard’s vibrant feathers ruffled in agitation, and Melton scampered along, tail puffed. The unusual commotion suggested something was amiss at the lighthouse.
“What’s got them so worked up?” Jennifer wondered aloud, her eyes scanning the well-lit front garden.
Caroline shrugged, concern furrowing her brow. “I don’t know. Sandy rarely acts like this unless...”
Her voice trailed off as they approached the front door, where Sandy barked fervently, scratching at the wood as if signaling urgency. The unusual behavior heightened the tension in the air, and Caroline’s hand trembled slightly as she reached for the doorknob.
As the door swung open, Sandy darted inside, followed by Blue Beard and Melton. The chaotic trio raced through the hallway, their footsteps echoing in the silence of the night, and they pounded up the stairs.
“Did you leave a window open?” Jennifer asked, scanning the living room for any signs of intrusion. “Maybe a raccoon got in.”
“No, everything was locked up tight.” Caroline’s gaze darted toward the staircase, her instincts tingling with unease.
Sandy’s bark reverberated from upstairs, and the two women exchanged a worried glance before hurrying after their furry companions. The wooden steps creaked beneath their weight, adding tension to the situation like a scene from a horror movie when you knew the characters were walking into danger.
At the top of the stairs, Caroline and Jennifer reached the hallway, where Sandy’s bark seemed to lead toward Caroline’s bedroom. The door stood slightly ajar, an unexpected invitation into the heart of her personal space.
The feeling of intrusion clawed at Caroline’s nerves. “I didn’t leave the door open,” she whispered to Jennifer. “I close it because Blue Beard steals my pillows.”
Before Sandy and her friends could enter the room, the door was slammed shut with a force that sent shivers down their spines. Panic gripped Caroline as the realization hit her—someone else was in the house.
Without hesitation, Jennifer surged forward, her expression fierce and protective. With a swift push, she flung the bedroom door open. Sandy rushed in, creating a commotion that echoed through the room.
Caroline’s eyes widened in shock as a figure, donned from head to toe in black, raced toward her. The intruder clutched Caroline’s laptop under their arm, moving with a speed that caught her off guard.
“That’s my laptop!” Caroline yelled.
Instinct kicked in, and Caroline attempted to intercept the thief, but a mighty shove sent her sprawling. The impact with the floor was abrupt, and a sharp pain radiated from her head. Before she could comprehend what had happened, the world around her blurred. The last thing she heard was Jennifer’s enraged voice, the subtle scent of clean sheets dried by the sun. As she faded into unconsciousness Sandy’s fierce barking resounded around her like a cacophony of chaos.
CHAPTER 12
The Beach Hut pulsed with the rhythm of laughter and music, the sounds of the sixteen-year-olds reveling in the freedom of a summer night. Brad stood watching the flashing lights move to the beat of the music and the mix of teens and adults crammed onto the dance floor.
The adults, a diverse group bonded by their love for the island and the sea, swayed to the music, momentarily lost in the carefree spirit of youth. Brad had been introduced and welcomed by them as if he was a long-lost relative they were happy to see. He and Harriet had been amazed at how warm and inviting the locals were and soon found themselves enjoying the evening.
Brad took a moment to observe each face, remembering the connections he’d made earlier that night: Daniella was poised to become the head librarian and the town’s doctor, Liam, the Summer Inn owner and once a surfing hero known as Riptide, Tanith, the library assistant and the youngest of the group, andTanner, the headmaster of the middle school and a volunteer medic.
His eyes shifted to the tall man who stood at least a head above the rest of the group —Finn, the proud owner of the Beach Hut, Caroline’s older brother, and the legendary surfer known as The Finnster. The man who was also Connor’s all-time surfing hero. Brad was still amazed at what a small world was. Six weeks ago, he’d met Caroline in New York—a chance meeting at a coffee shop. Today, his son met his surfing hero, who happened to be Caroline’s brother, and only because Caroline’s books she’d written had brought them here. Fate worked in mysterious ways.
Brad’s eyes moved a little to the left to find Harriet teaching Caroline’s daughter, Jules, and Reef a dance that looked vaguely similar to a group dance they used to do as teens. He laughed softly as the rest of the dance floor joined them, and the DJ changed the song to a more appropriate one to suit the dance. Brad sipped his beer, watching the laughter and camaraderie between the different age groups as they joined the fun together.
He sighed, thinking about how different parties were back in New York. The younger generation would never think to join in like that—at least in their social circles. Something inside Brad twinged as he saw how happy and relaxed his usually socially reserved son was, unless he was with this surfing crowd, that is. Connor was happier with people he calledreal people. He thought everyone in their social circle was stiff, pretentious, andtotallyboring. Now, he was showing his moves on the dance floor, flirting with a teenage girl, and laughing like he’d never seen Connor laugh.
My father’s right. Cobble Cove is going to be good for Connor!Brad thought, catching Harriet’s eyes.Uh-oh!
