AMETHYST DREAMS

BY PHYLLIS A WHITNEY

Synopsis:

Suspense thriller.  Holly Knight is summoned to Nick Trent's dying
bedside to help him cope with the mysterious disappearance of his
granddaughter Susan.  Holly and Susan were the best of friends in
college and Susan had few friends.  Nick Trent has a final request of
Holly--find out what really happened to Susan.  He suspects she was
murdered.  There are many suspects on the island of Topsail and a
mysterious Pirate's Pit.  There is also a legend that if one sleeps with
an amethyst near one's pillow one will dream vividly about an important
event--and Holly thinks she sees Susan in the amethyst.  Is this some
sort of psychic link with the dead girl?

FOREWARD

I have sometimes thought that if I spread out a map of the United
States, blindfolded myself, and took a pin to pick out any spot on the
map, I would find a wonderful place to write about.  Every location has
its special history and treasures that belong nowhere else.  Topsoil
Island was just such a pinprick on a map, discovered because I was led
there by chance.

When I was collecting the background material for Daughter of the Stars,
the last person I met in Harpers Ferry (and almost didn't meet at all)
was Kate Plchle.  She and her husband were about to move to Hempstead,
North Carolina, and I said in parting, "Tell me if you find an
interesting locality I might write about." Later, when they'd settled
in, she suggested nearby Topsail Island as a possibility.  My daughter
and son-in-law drove me down from Virginia, and I could hardly have
found a richer speck of earth to use as a story background.

Something that often surprises me is how people know nothing about the
history of the place in which they live.  The first thing on the island
to catch my interest on arrival was a square cement tower.  There were
seven of these marching down the narrow strip of land that was Topsoil.
Inquiring about them, I was told by one resident that they had something
to do with the Coast Guard.  You'll find out how wrong that was!

Fortunately, I found more knowledgeable people to help me. Kate and
David Richle had purchased a home on the mainland and bought a boat in
which they traveled the Topsail Sound. The sound is part of the
intracoastal waterway that offers boats clear passage all the way to
Florida.  They had become fascinated by the beauties of these waters, so
rich with wildlife.  I thank them both for becoming my eyes and ears for
places I could visit only in my imagination.

jeanne Nociti, executive director of the Greater Topsall Chamber of
Commerce and Tourism, met my request for help with enthusiasm.  She
phoned Betty Polzer and we were able to visit Betty in her charming pink
house on the oceanside.  Betty became my friend-by-mail.  Her lively
mind and vital spirit were helpful to me through her many letters.  Her
extensive research into the history of the island, her published
writings, and the many clippings she sent me enriched my knowledge. Dear
Betty, I niss you and I am sad because I couldn't show you this finished
book, into which you put so much before you went on to another
dimension.

jeanne also introduced me to Evelyn Bradshaw, president of the Topsoil
Island Historical Society, who has been a great supporter and source of
information.  Evelyn took us to visit the Assembly Building, which had
been used to store and assemble rockets before launching.  The
Historical Society had saved the building from commercial uses and was
planning to house a museum there that would preserve island history. The
museum, Missiles and More, is now a reality and there are exhibits and
displays that show early Indian life, the history of Operation
Bumblebee, the Gold Hole, and much more.

Evelyn Bradshaw also gave a great boost to my story by introducing me to
the island's famous Gold Hole.  Here I have tampered with fact.  The
Gold Hole exists on private property, so I have changed its name to the
Pirate's Pit and moved its location to where it serves my story.  The
booster rocket did wash ashore on Topsail, but my characters were not
present at the time.  There really was a Cabbage Island, but I borrowed
the name for the imaginary speck of land that my characters visit. Don't
look for Susan's "secret room" under the Assembly Building-though that
hollow sound in the floor near the door is real.  Thank you, Bill
Morrison, for thumping it and inviting my imagination to take off.

Ken and Evelyn Ottoway were warmly hospitable when we visited Spyglass,
their tower house home.  Thank you for loaning it to me for my story.
Ken gave me a shark's tooth he found on the beach, and that, too, took
its place in a scene.

Sloop Point Plantation, across on the mainland, was a delight to visit.
James and Mae Graves had restored it with love and meticulous respect
for the original house.  It has been designated as the oldest plantation
house in the state.  In my novel it has become Gulls Cove, and the
people who live there bear no resemblance to the far more gracious hosts
at Sloop Point.  When I am doing research for a book, I always take a
great many pictures, both still and video, so I was able to re-create
bits of Sloop Point for several scenes.

I want to thank Palph and Bettle Shipton, whose beautiful modern house,
across the sound from TopsaLL' , we were able to visit.  I am especially
grateful for the use of the Shiptons' elevator.  I don't know what
captain Nick would have done without it!

Strangely, I feel closer to Topsail now than I did when we were there.
After all, I have spent many months on the island watching my characters
work out their various destinies.  It will remain forever real in my
memory and as it existed in this story.

Hampstea, North Carolina he must be stopped from coming here.  We must
stop her.  We don't want her here, Ryce." Louise Trench, a woman
obviously accustomed to getting what she wanted, spoke across the room
to her husband.

Ryce Trench wished that his father's money didn't matter so much to
Louise, but he had always known that it would.  In her mid -fifties she
was still beautiful and all too well aware of the fact.  Her hair had
been kept carefully blond, and her face was still smooth-as though all
strong emotion had been suppressed.  She had never grown fat and her
figure was perfect in her expensive, well-cut clothes.  Ryce, too clever
for selfdeception, had known why she'd married him, but her beauty had
captured him from the first.  And he'd been lonely since Ellen's death.

The three people in the long living room at Gulls Cove stood apart, but
they were all looking out a window toward the beautiful rippling water
of the sound.  Richard Merrick, the Trench attorney and friend, turned
to pick up Louise's words.

"It's too late to stop her.  Mrs.  Knight received my letter and her
plane from California is due to land in Wilmington in a few hours."

"At least she can be discouraged from staying" Louise insisted.  "We
need a plan."

"My father is dying" Ryce said, "and he's the one she's coming to see.
She won't be here long.  He just wants to talk to her about Susan."

Ryce still looked devastated whenever he spoke his daughter's name.  He
knew she was dead.  He had felt the loss of her from the first, though
it was something his father, Nicholas, had never accepted.  The tie
between Nick and his granddaughter had been unusually close, and
throughout Nick's recent long illness he had spent thousands of dollars
to find out why she had disappeared.  Sending for hallie Knight, his
granddaughter's oldest friend, was nothing more than a foolish last
attempt, but perhaps the most threatening in Louise's eyes.

"Nick will live forever," she said tartly.

"I hope that's true" Richard said, picking up his raincoat and
briefcase.  "In any case, I'd better get started for the airport.  I'll
phone you after I've delivered Mrs.  Knight to the island."

He was aware of the look in his wife's eyes, the way she looked at
Richard.  He'd seen that look before, whenever a smiling handsome man
was in her vicinity, and as always he held his anger deep inside. Louise
couldn't help the way she was.  She needed to be admired, but he knew
she would never leave him as long as she had the lure of his father's
inheritance, his father's money.

Richard paused on his way to the door.  "There may be nothing to worry
about.  She may not accept Nick's terms."

"How did she sound on the phone when she caned in answer to your
letter?" Louise asked.

"Curious.  Puzzled.  Nothing more.  I had the feeling that she was
distracted by some difficult private matter.  She's only coming because
of her friendship with Susan."

"If you play your cards right, Richard, you can scare her off. Why, that
awful house Nick lives in should be enough to do the trick." Louise
shuddered at the thought.

Royce managed to speak mildly.  "Of course, we don't really know what my
father intends.  I'll tell you one thing-I feel sorry for this woman.
Who will protect her?"

"Protect her from what?" Richard asked.  "She's not in any danger."

"How can we be sure?" Ryce asked, taking a deep breath. "After all no
one knows what happened to Susan."

"We'll know when she chooses to let us know," Louise said.  "Your
daughter was always unpredictable.  This hallie Knight may stir things
up.  If Susan is the bait, anything can surface."

"Susan has been gone for two years" Ryce pointed out sadly, and I don't
think my father will ever give up trying to find an answer to what
became of her."

Impatient, Richard glanced at his watch.  "We're getting nowhere.  The
reference to his will in the letter he sent to Mrs. Knight means
nothing.  It was only intended to coax her to come, I'm sure."

Louise sniffed.

"Anyway, I must start for the airport.  Once she's here, once Mrs.
Knight has seen Nick, we can play it by ear.  There may be nothing to
worry about.  We'll talk again after we've sized her up.

After he was gone she made a slight grimace in her husband's direction
and walked out of the room.

A pall of helplessness settled over Ryce Trench as he stared out across
the sound toward Topsail Island.  He'd been born there fifty-five years
ago-in the very house where his father still ' lived.  When his first
wife, Ellen, was alive, she and Ryce and their daughter, Susan, had
lived on the island with his mother and father.  Ellen died before his
parents separated and his mother had gone her own way.  But in those
early days they'd all lived together happily enough.  Or so he'd
thought.

Ellen had loved Anne and she'd loved Nicholas Trench's house and the
island-loved the beaches, the maritime forest, the island's unique
history.  Susan had felt just as passionate about the place even though
she had hardly known her mother, who had died when she was three.  It
was her grandmother, Anne, who'd looked after her.  Ryce had been so
devastated by his wife's death that he had created a busy life of hard
work for himself.  Though he knew he hadn't been much of a father to
Susan, he had loved her deeply.  Now he was secretly looking forward to
meeting the woman who had befriended his daughter when she was away at
college.  Perhaps getting to know hallie Knight would return something
of Susan to him.

He'd often wondered if his dear Ellen would ever have understood this
marriage to Louise.  Sometimes he hardly understood it himself.  She had
been impossible to resist, though he had never fully understood what
drove her besides her desire for money.  She had told him about her
well-connected family in the North.  They were all dead by the time she
came south, so Louise was lonely, too.  He had never asked probing
questions about her past because it obviously hurt her so much to talk
about her family.

He didn't expect to ever find another woman like Ellen.  If there is one
person in the world meant for each of us, he thought he had found his
and lost her all too soon.  At least Louise was an attractive companion
and, at this stage of his life, he considered that enough.

Lately, however, the spark of anger that had come alive in him earlier
had shown signs of being all too ready to ignite.  For the sake of his
own sanity'and whatever life he might have with Louise, he knew he must
never allow that to happen.  He must keep his emotions under control.

Across the sound the island stretched long and narrow, its shadows
deeply slanting in the setting sun.  It was an island that knew how to
keep its secrets, no matter what probing this woman who was coming to
Topsall might attempt.  Secrets were meant to be kept-to be buried too
deep to ever be found.

It was over.  I would never forgive Paul, and I would never live with
him again.  Our eight years of marriage had seemed wonderfully happy,
even though we'd had no children.  I had trusted my husband in every
way, and I'd never worried about the Hollywood crowd he mixed with as a
West Coast literary agent ...  or had I?

It was Paul's special talent to find the movie buried in hundreds of
pages of a novel, and he had an instinct for knowing the right director
or producer for a project.  His enthusiasm and Oi charm did the rest.
Everyone knew, or wanted to know, Paul Knight; his successes were
notable.

There had been the attraction of opposites to bind our love. Paul was
gregarious, always ready to go to parties and meet new people, while I
preferred a quieter life and the company of a few friends. Nevertheless,
the tie between us had been real and I'd expected our love to last. Love
and trust and dependability were my touchstones.  I'd been that naive.

Paul had always seemed blithely, even mockingly, aware of the
make-believe aspects of the world in which he worked.  He recognized
tinsel when he saw it.  I suppose that's why I would never have believed
that he'd become involved with a sexy blond actress who wasn't really
very bright.  I confronted him, once I knew what was going on, and he'd
given me no excuses.  I, who had always been so controlled, so
understanding, had exploded in rage-outrage.  He listened to me with
some astonishment, admitted his affair, and then simply moved out,
leaving me to deel 'with what I wanted to do.  He'd loved me as little
as that.

The letter from Susan Trench's grandfather had come the next day, while
I was still reeling.  I didn't understand what it meant, and I didn't
much care.  I only knew that it offered me an opportunity to do
something concrete-to get away from my life until I could work things
out.  This letter, like the one I had received two years before, telling
me of Susan's disappearance, addressed me as "Dear Hall,-.e," not as
"Mrs.  Knight," so I supposed that Susan had talked about me
affectionately.

I thought of Susan often, troubled as I was by her sudden disappearance.
At first, after I'd left Berkeley, we had kept in touch, calling and
writing and occasionally rendezvousing in some beautiful but not too
expensive spot for a week of relaxation and fun and catching up on our
lives.  We were really good friends for a while, but I was living in
Palm Springs and Susan was on an island called Topsall off the coast of
North Carolina.  When we'd roomed together-and during those first years
after collegeSusan had been the wild and unpredictable one; my nature,
as I liked to think, was more stable.  I'd listened to Susan's
troublestrouble always seemed to be part of her life-rescued her from a
foolish scrape or two, and loved her like a sister.  Of course, we'd
always promised each other undying friendship, but after a while we each
became busy with our own lives and drifted apart. Eventually even our
letter writing lapsed.  We still managed Christmas cards with return
addresses, but nothing more.

Then, two years ago, Susan's grandfather, Nicholas Trench, sent me a
newspaper clipping about Susan's disappearance.  I had been shocked and
grieved.  I'd asked questions in my return letter, but captain Trench
chose not to answer, and I'd never heard from him again until now.

Apparently he'd remembered my friendship with his granddaughter.  He
wrote that he hadn't much longer to live and would like me to visit him
soon.  He wanted to remember me in his will because of my "many
kindnesses to Susan." But most of all he wanted to talk with someone
whose memories of his granddaughter might comfort him.  Enclosed was a
check to cover the cost of a first-class round-trip plane ticket from
Callfora.

Accompanying his sealed letter was a more formal note from an attorney,
Richard Merrick, whose letterhead indicated he was connected with a law
firm in Wilmington, North Carolina. The note asked me to contact him as
soon as possible.  He hadn't sounded particularly friendly when I
called, but arrangements were confirmed for my trip to North Carolina.
So here I was flying over the eastern edge of the continent on a trip
I'd never expected to make.

I'd hated the long hours on the plane, with nothing to do and too much
time to think.  all the pain Paul had caused me flared up more intensely
than ever, pain that was laced with an anger that made me feel a little
ill.  In the airport in Los Angeles, and again in Chicago, where I'd
changed planes, the world seemed filled with couples traveling together,
as Paul and I had always done.  The worst moment had come at the start
when I was boarding my very early flight in Los Angeles, and there'd
been a man in the line ahead-not very tall, with brown hair cut a little
long at the back.  He'd had a quick way of moving his head, and my heart
had almost stopped beating.  It wasn't Paul, of course, but by the time
I reached my seat, I was shaking.  I'd always thought Paul
distinctive-far more interesting than other men. Yet now men who
reminded me of him seemed to appear all too often.

On this last stretch of the flight I hadn't even had a seatmate to talk
with, so I was stretched a bit taut, and an the more relieved when we
were nearly there.

A soft grinding sound shivered through the plane, ending in a thump that
meant the landing gear was down.  As we emerged from cloud cover, I
could see miles of North Carolina forest, with the Cape Fear River
winding through the trees.  During the flight I had distracted myself
for a while by studying the MAPS IN A GUIdebook I'd hastly bought the
day before, so I knew a little about the country below.  I'd made good
connections and it was still light down there.  Topsall was a tiny
barrier island off the coast north of Wilmington, but I couldn't make it
out from the air.

When the plane landed and I filed off with the other passengers, Richard
Merrick was waiting for me.  The briefcase under his arm was the
identifying clue he'd given me-that and the fact that he was quite tall.
He looked the way he had sounded on the phone-competent and a little
cool.  His voice was deep-timbred as he greeted me-a strong voice,
though not entirely reassurinand it seemed to suit his large frame.  He
settled me in his comfortable Buick and we headed north up the coast.
While he didn't study me directly, I was aware that he was sizing me up,
and I tried to give him very little to read.

"Tell me about captain Trench," I said when we were wellON OUR WAY.

"I believe Susan told me he was a captain. "IN the navy.  Is he very
in?"

"The doctors give him another month or two.  Sometimes he's in
considerable pain.  I'm glad you've come in time.  He remembers Susan
talking about you, and that's important to him."

Even though Merrick said the right things, I doubted his sincerity.
"Glad to see" me, he obviously wasn't.

"Did you ever find out what happened to Susan?" I asked.

He didn't answer for a moment.  Then he spoke sadly.  "We just don't
know.  That's an unhappy story, so let the captain lead the way when it
comes to talking about it."

"I remember Susan's fondness for Topsoil Island.  Is that where we're
going?"

Merrick nodded.  "Nick-Nicholas Trench-still lives there in the house he
built for Susan's grandmother.  She left him MANY YEARS AGO.  Merrick
paused and I had the feeling that he'd meant to say something more, but
when he went on he changed the subject.  "Before we arrive, you'd better
get used to calling the island Top'sle.  Merchant ships used to make
stops where inlets cut in from the sound side of the island.  In those
days pirates roamed the coasts looking for ships to raid.  The merchant
captains could see the topsails of pirate ships over the dunes and get
away in time.  So the island began to be caned Top'sle, using the
seafarer's pronunciation.  Now it's an ideal spot for vacationers who
enjoy fine beaches, and for a good many retired people who live there
the year round.  Young professional people are finding it as
well-writers and artists and others who are self-employed.  We'll cross
over soon at the swing bridge out of Hempstead."

His discourse, I suspected, was to distract me from the real subject of
Susan and her grandfather.

"Does Susan's father live on the island?" I asked when he came to a
pause.

Merrick glanced at me and then looked back at the road. "No, he
doesn't."

"There's a stepmother, I believe?"

This time he merely nodded, and I realized then there were topics he was
reluctant to discuss.  This, of course, made me all the more curious.  I
was glad to have something to focus my attention on.

He put an end to my questions by pulling into a gas station. When he'd
filled the tank, he turned the car into a parking place and switched off
the engine.

"I don't know exactly how to say this," he began, "but you need to know
that there may be some people who won't welcome your coming here.  Don't
plan to stay very long, Mrs. Knight.  There's nothing you can do for
captain Trench anyway."

I looked at him in surprise.  "What do you mean?  What could anyone have
against me?"

"it has nothing to do with you, really.  It's just that you might get in
someone's way.  Nicholas Trench will leave a considerable fortune when
he dies, you know."

I didn't know and I could only protest.  "What have I to do with that?"

He spoke quietly, probably in his best soothing lawyer's fashion.  "I
saw a copy of the letter captain Trench sent you.  He mentioned a
legacy."

"I'm sure he meant no more than a token gift.  Though I don't know why
he would do that."

"There are those who won't want to share," Merrick said.

"Then I'll ask him not to leave me anything.  When we've talked about
Susan-which he seems to want and need-I'll just fly back to California.
So there's nothing for you to worry about He gave me another long look,
then smiled more warmly. "I'm sure everything will be fine.  He's an old
man who has suffered a great many losses, so we must humor him and
listen."

Something about the way he said this irritated me, and I nodded vaguely
as he pulled the Buick back onto the road.  I was probably much too
edgy.  The bridge was in place, and we crossed to the island without
further delay.  The car cut through the small business area of Surf
City, where there were restaurants, GIft shops, an artist's studio, a
small Chamber of Commerce building, and other commercial enterprises.
Then we drove out along a main road that led south along the narrow
island.

Houses of every size and variety lined the road on either side.  all
were set on columns that raised the living floor above flood level.
Sometimes these supports were neatly enclosed behind walls, while other
owners had left the ground level open and exposed.  On our left I
glimpsed sand dunes that rose along the ocean, which I couldn't see.  At
intervals wooden steps and walkways led over the dunes and down to what
I supposed was the beach.

"The dunes are fragile," Merrick told me, "so protection is necessary.
No one walks on the dunes.  The island's a little over twenty-four miles
long, in the shape of a shallow crescent.  It's never very WIDE at any
point.  On the soundside, 'nlets can change the width.  On the
oceanside, there's the curved line of the beach along the Atlantic.
You're lucky to be here ahead of the summer season.  Many of the rental
houses are still unoccupied, so the year-round residents have the island
mostly to themselves." Again he seemed to be talking to distract me.

I watched the sandy roadside on my left, where houses faced an ocean I
still couldn't see.  They were built fairly close together, mostly
painted white or brown, with a few bursts of color here and there.  One
pink house made a particularly dramatic statement.  Most of the houses
wore name signs-some poetic, some a bit cutesy.  I saw WINDWAPI-),
SECOND time APOUND, and BACK A BIT, among others.

"Is the island all one town?" I asked.

"It's divided into three towns-Topsall Beach, which is south, where
we're going; Surf City, where the bridge came across: and North Topsall
Beach, which is filled with condominiums, and like another world.  The
two ends can be critical of each other.  There's another bridge serving
the north end. The island breaks into two counties as well."

I noticed, running beside the road on the soundside, a narrow strip of
low, wind-twisted trees growing densely, their tops so intertwined that
they formed a tangled canopy.

Merrick noted my interest.  "Those trees are part of the island's
maritime forest.  Once the forest covered everything. Mostly the trees
are live oaks that have been stunted and twisted by ocean winds.  A
great deal of the forest has been destroyed by RAPID BUILDING but now
there are laws that preserve what's left of the trees."

Ahead on the right an odd-looking structure came into view-a sturdy
concrete tower three stories high, with square corners.  There were
centered windows and what appeared to be a door at the bottom.

"What's that?" I asked as we drove past.

"Those towers were built after World War II, when there WASNt much else
on the Island except fishing communities-mostly shacks.  There were nine
towers originally, but one of them is gone, so now there are eight. They
were part of what was called Operation Bumblebee.  Ask captain Trench
about all that.  He was here as a young man in the navy at that time."

The maritime forest's thick green growth lined the way on our right,
with occasional lanes cutting through here and there, leading down to
the sound.

Merrick turned into one of these lanes, where thick, dark foliage grew
abundantly all around, nearly meeting overhead to form a shadowy tunnel.
At the far end of the lane a patch of light showed the water of the
sound.  Before we reached the water, Merrick turned the car into a
clearing where two houses had been built among the trees.  One, set back
from the water, had been painted a creamy white-a sturdy foursquare
house. The other, facing the sound, was a gray clapboard that rambled
into wings on different levels.  Both houses were raised on exposed
supports, and a three-car garage occupied the space under the clapboard
house.  We pulled up in front of this.

Stairs inside the garage area led up to the main floor.  At the top of
the steep flight a thin, middle-aged woman waited for us.

"Hello, Mrs.  O," Merrick said as we reached her level.  "This is Mrs.
Knight, Susan's friend.  hallie, Mrs.  Orion is captain Trench's
housekeeper and right hand."


I noticed the way he had slipped easily into using my first name, but I
still didn't feel comfortable with him.  At least he sounded less like a
tour guide now.

Mrs.  Orion took my offered hand, but her smile seemed restrained, as
though she was waiting to decide about me.  She wore a garment of blue
seersucker that suggested a uniform and enveloped her like a pillowcase.

"The captain is waiting for you, Mrs.  Knight" she said, and looked at
Merrick.  "Will you stay for supper, Mr.  Merrick?  I'm sure captain
Trench would like that.  We're having it a bit late tonight because I
wasn't sure when you'd get here."

Merrick shook his head.  "Thanks, but I need to get back to Wilmington.
I'll come over tomorrow, hallie, and see how things are going.  Perhaps
you'll need a ride back to the airport by then."

"Thank you, Mr.  Merrick:' I said, sounding formal and a little stiff.
His assumption that I would be quickly ready to leave, as well as his
eagerness to hurry away, left me with a deepening irritation.
Nevertheless, when he had disappeared down the stairs and I heard his
car leaving, I felt alone and altogether uncertain.  Here at the back of
the house near the stairs, the rooms were dark, with branches pressing
against the windows.  A gloom that was both physical and psychological
settled over me. I wished that Paul could be with me now--and then
remembered with a stab that I could not call on him anymore.  A sense
that I had not been brought here for some innocent purpose settled over
me and made me feel increasingly alone.

Mrs.  Orion was waiting and she led me into the relief of late daylight
as we stepped into a wide living room that stretched across the front of
the house.  The furnishings seemed old and rather shabby, as though no
one had bothered to refurbish for a long time.

 "You might like to go out on the deck and see the view before the sun
goes down," Mrs.  Orion said.  "I'll tell captain Trench that you're
here."

I crossed the room, moving toward the sunset light that had begun to
gild the sky.  The sliding glass doors were open, and I slid open the
screen door and stepped out onto wide gray boards that cantilevered out
across the front of the house.  When I approached the railing, I saw
that the ground below sloped toward the water of the sound, where a dock
ran out from the shore.  A small boat tied at the far end of the dock
bobbed gently as ripples from a passing boat reached it.

The glowing sky had sent out wide streamers of gold.  On the far shore
of the sound lights were on in several houses.  I rested my hands on the
gray railing and tried to let my inner disquiet subside in the aura of
peace around me.  My breakup with Paul had -jaded me all too ready to
see ominous signals everywhere.  I wasn't here without a choice.  I , a
new d I must use it to gain some sort of equilibrium.

As I stood on the wide deck, breathing wonderfully clear sea air, two
brown pelicans flew by flapping their wings, and I felt a small surge of
delight.  No wonder Susan had loved this place. The dark house behind me
began to seem less threatening.

When Mrs.  Orion returned, I was ready to meet Sus;in's grandfather.

Nicholas Trench's room occupied the left front corner of the house and
there were enough windows to let in plenty of light.  To my dismay,
however, Mrs.  Orion immediately began to draw all the draperies, with
quick, nervous gestures, leaving only a side window uncovered for air.

The old man looked lost in his wide bed, propped by pillows that seemed
larger than he was.  The four dark walnut posts of the bed were carved
into corn shapes at the top, and they stood like guardians around him.

Mrs.  Orion had turned on several lamps, so the gloom was not complete.
"I'll get back to fixing supper," she said and hurried away without any
formal introduction.

I wasn't sure whether or not to offer my hand as I approached the bed.
In fact, I wasn't sure that the old man was even aware of my presence.
Mrs.  Orion had murmured, "She's here," but I didn't know if he'd heard
her.

"Thank you for inviting me, captain Trench," I said hesitantly.

He turned his head slightly and for a moment he stared at me from eyes
sunken deep in their sockets.  His nose must have GROWN EVEN MORE
AQUILINE WITH age, and his cheekbones rose above hollowed flesh. Perhaps
as a young man his lips had been full-a mouth eager for life-but now
they pressed into a straight, thin line that spoke only of pain held in
check.  Pain that might be emotional as well as physical.

He came at length to some conclusion about me, and when he spoke, a
crackle of life came into his voice.  He had not lost the habit of
command.  "For God's sake, open those drapes and let in the sunset!"

For an instant I was too surprised to move.  Then I walked to the
windows and flung back the draperies so that light flooded the room,
bringing in outside patterns of yellow and lavender.

"That's better," he said more quietly.  "The Owl-Mrs. Orion-is a nervous
Nelly, and she's afraid of prying eyes, though there's nothing out there
to look in but pelicans and gulls."

I returned to the bed, able to smile at him now.  "You remind me of
Susan, captain Trench.  She must have gotten some of her spirit from
you."

He waved a bony hand toward the straight-back chair beside his bed. "Sit
down, hallie.  You won't be comfortable-that's part of the plan.  To
keep visitors from staying very long.  They're supposed to wear me out
if they stay.  The Owl never understands that what I want is to have
something demanded of me so I can be worn out!"

I sat in the stiff chair and found that he was right, bitt discomfort
didn't matter.  I would stay as long as he wanted me to. At the same
time I was a little wary.  Something more than his illness tugged at my
sympathy.  His body may have failed him, but a tough, unbeaten spirit
looked out of his eyes, compelling me.  To do what?  He was a man
accustomed to having his own way which might not be my way.

"I remember Susan with a great deal of affection" I told him. "We were
good friends, even though we weren't anything alike."

He nodded.  "I can see that.  Susan always jumped before she thought.
You look as though you'd think first and figure things out."

"Not always," I admitted.  Certainly I hadn't done much thinking before
rushing out here.  I'd wanted only to run, to escape, to postpone the
decisions I needed to make.

"I suppose I was more cautious than Susan.  She was like a hummingbird,
alighting here and there, always in motion. It's a wonder she ever stood
still long enough to listen to me. Though sometimes she did."

"She wrote me about how much you helped her.  You were the person she
trusted.  She could get mad and fling herself thoughtlessly into
situations, the way I sometimes did when I was young.  Too often she had
regrets later.  I never did.  I never regretted anything." .  .  ." His
voice seemed to die out on his last words, as though he'd suddenly
remembered something he did regret.

There were questions I wanted to ask, but I knew I had to move slowly.
In spite of the flash of life he'd shown, he was clearly very ill.  He
had to have felt trapped and helpless in the hands of those who cared
for him, even though they had his well-being at heart.

His hand reached out suddenly and caught mine, taking me by surprise.
"Come closer, hallie, so no one will hear.  Do you know why I asked you
to come here?"

"You wrote me that you wanted to talk about Susan."

"That, of course.  But what I really want is for you to find out the
truth about what happened to my granddaughter."

For a moment I could only stare.  "How could I possibly do that?  Surely
you've tried-"

"Of course I've tried.  I've had the best people I could hire searching
for her.  They found nothing."

"Then why do you think I-?"

He broke in, weary and impatient.  "Perhaps you would search from the
inside.  You knew her and you would use your heart as well as your
head."

This didn't reassure me.  "What do you think happened to her?"

His grip on my hand tightened.  "I think she was murdered. That's the
only possible answer."

Shock held me silent.  I was more sure than ever that I couldn't help
him.  I understood his love for his granddaughter, but I was no
detective.  I wouldn't know how or where to begin.  Besides, I was
starting to get the sense that there was horror here and it was nothing
I wanted to face.

"What about her father?  What does he think?" I asked.

He threw my hand aside, dismissing the idea.  "Ryae has never had any
real gumption.  And ever since he married again-to a woman Susan
detested-he's been of no use .It all."

Neither would I be of any use.  But I couldn't crush him with a flat
refusal.  "Let me think about this."

He tilted his strong, bony chin in my direction.  "Fine.  Take your
time.  I hope you'll stay awhile.  I've had the Owl prepare Anne's room
for you.  Anne was my wife-Susan's grandmother. Susan used to stay in
her room when she came home.  When she was a child, Susan's own room was
downstairs, where she could run outside easily.  But when she came back
from College, she wanted to be near me, so she took her grandmother's
room."

Strangely, I couldn't remember Susan ever mentioning her grandmother.

"She died long ago" the captain said grin-Ay, as if reading my thoughts.
"We don't talk about her.  I'll call Mrs.  Owl now and she can get you
settled."

A brass bell that looked too heavy for him to lift rested on a low table
beside the bed.  Evidently, though, there was still enough strength in
his arm when he needed it, for he raised the bell and sent a clambering
through the house.

At once Mrs.  Orion appeared in the doorway.  "all right now, captain.
I'm here.  You needn't bring the fire engines."

He grinned at her, and I suspected that an affectionate war of wigs must
go on between them.

"WiN you show Mrs.  Knight to Anne's room so she can rest a bit before
supper?  Good night, hallie.  I'll see you in the morning whenever
you're ready."

Mrs.  Orion was busy closing the draperies again, and her movements
suggested that they would now stay closed.  Neither of us said a word.

Before I left, I dared to pat his hand.  That much I could offer. "We'll
talk tomorrow," I said and followed the housekeeper from the room.

Mrs.  Orion, thin and wiry in her semi-uniform, moved lightly on soft
soles as she crossed the wide living room.  I had to hurry to keep at
her heels.  As we passed a stairway leading to the floor above, a young
man came running down, shouting a greeting.

"Hello!  Hello!  Ma didn't tell me you'd arrived." He looked at me in
open appraisal.  "I'm Corey Orion.  And of course you're hallie."

Exuberant was the word for Corey, and I suspected he was a little older
than he looked or acted-probably around Susan's and my age.  I stiffened
as he threw his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.  His
uninhibited behavior took me by surprise, and I didn't know how to
react.  He saw this and I caught a spark of amusement in his eyes.

His mother shook her head, but her expression was one of fondness.
"Behave yourself, Corey.  It was a long time ago that Mrs.  Knight knew
Susan, so don't presume." Her son only grinned at her.

Corey Orion was as dark as Susan was fair-thick black hair, a little
long, snapping black eyes-and much too good-looking. Often looks like
that in a man mean self-interest and selfsatisfaction.  His full mouth,
I suspected, had kissed far too many girls.  Yet Susan had never
mentioned either Corey or his mother, which seemed puzzling.  In fact,
Susan had never talked about anyone on Topsail Island but her
grandfather.  Even her father had been mentioned only in passing, and
the fact that her mother had died when she was small.  I had guessed
that painful happenings on the island had kept her from wanting to talk.
still, the one person she seemed to have loved wholly was Nicholas
Trench.

Corey regarded me with a look of curious anticipation as I turned to the
door Mrs.  Orion held open for me.

"You can rest for a half hour," she said.  "Corey has brought in your
bags.  I'D set a table for us out on the deck, since it's warm this
evening, and we can have supper out there." She paused as though an
afterthought had come to her, but I sensed that her effort to be casual
was false.  "There are pictures hung in the room that were painted by
Anne Trench, the captain's wife.  I hope you won't mind."

I didn't know why I should mind, but she hurried off to tend to her
duties, as though she wanted no questions.  Her son still waited, as if
for some reaction on my part.

"Thank you for bringing up my bags," I said.  "I'll see you later." And
I closed the door upon his waiting curiosity.

Mrs.  Orion had turned on a lamp near the bed, and I looked around,
receiving an immediate impression of clashing styles.  If rooms long
lived in held the imprint of former occupants, this room surely
displayed confusion.

Basically, it was a quiet room of cool blues.  Like the captain's, this
was a corner room, with glass doors opening onto the deck. A side window
looked into the twisted upper branches of live oaks, and I walked over
to look out, turning my back on what I wasn't ready to see.

Dark foliage blended into the dusk of evening, as I stood, shielded here
from sunset.  A single light standard had come on in the clearing and I
could see across to the rielghboring house, where lamps shone in several
rooms.  I would need to talk with the captain's neighbors if I was to
find out more about Susan. I smiled ruefully at the commitment I already
seemed to be making.

As I looked down, a young girl in Jeans and a pullover came out of the
house next door.  I could see her clearly in the light from the
standard.  She appeared to be around ten.  Her long hair lifted on her
shoulders as she ran across to look up at the window where I stood.  For
an instant our eyes met before she turned away, but I had the curious
feeling that there had been hostility in her manner.

I shrugged off the encounter and faced the disquieting room. There were
no curtains or draperies here, and none were needed.  Shutters had been
set into each deep window space, and these were folded back.  I didn't
close them, but stood looking about the room-at least at the lower part
of it.  I wasn't ready yet to raise my eyes, since I had already
glimpsed what was there when I came in.

The bed was wide, and I winced at the sight of it-a bed in which I would
sleep alone.  The woven coverlet matched the blue-gray water of the
sound as I'd seen it today when Richard Merrick and I had crossed the
bridge to the island.  The carpet was slightly deeper in tone.  A small
table for writing and a slender-legged chair that sat before it were
made of pale birch.  Near the glass doors that opened onto the deck
stood a round table with a rippling skirt of blue cloth that hung to the
floor.  Haviland china in a tea set for two offered hospitality.  Two
more light-colored chairs were drawn up to the table.

The sense of loss flashed through me again.  Everything came in pairs,
except for the chaise lounge in one corner, its cushions displaying a
tiny design of bILiebells and primroses, offering an invitation to rest
and dream.  If it were not for the walls.

When I'd stepped into this roo -, I'd averted my eyes, but I could no
longer avoid what was there.  I could understand now why Mrs. Orion had
been uneasy.

Against the off-white of the wall facing me, pictures had been hung
almost frame to frame.  all were paintings, and all clearly came from
the hand of the same artist.  Most were abstract, and the clash of
colors and forms suggested extreme emotion.  The artist must have been
furiously angry as she painted.  Some were oils, some acrylics, but
there were no watercolors.  Perhaps watercolor was too gentle a medium
for the artist's moods.  In one picture bright droplets fen clear to the
frame, as though the painting bled.

If these had been painted by the captain's wife, her anger must have
lasted a long while to result in all this work.  Only here and there had
the abstract style been abandoned, and then a totally different spirit
had taken over.  Set among the wilder paintings were lovely portraits of
Susan as a child, and here no tormented brush had wreaked its fury.
Clearly the artist had loved the child.

The whole effect of the main body of paintings left me feeling a little
sick.  I knew now why Corey Orion had waited when I stepped through the
door into this room.  He had wanted to see how I would react, and I was
glad I hadn't given him that satisfaction.  How could I possibly stay in
this room with Anne Trench's anger and pain splashed across the wall?

Had Nicholas Trench been the cause of all this emotion?

Weariness suddenly overtook me and I chastised myself for MY dark
imaginings.  Once the lights were out, I wouldn't see these flaming
colors.  Besides, wasn't this the same sort of wild anger I had felt for
the last few days?  And yet as spirited and brash as Susan was, she was
also highly empathet'c, so it was hard to understand how she could have
stayed in this room with her grandmother's pain.

For now I was simply here; I could solve nothing, and I didn't want to
think about this room or why Nicholas Trench had brought me to this
house.  I flung myself on the inviting bed and closed my eyes.

I awoke a half hour later to a blissful gloom shrouding everything that
had disturbed me.  I got up and found the adjacent bathroom without
turning on a light.  Only when the door was closed did I touch a switch.
Here the tiles were a clear blue and white, with nothing to disturb the
senses.  I bathed my face in cool water and smoothed back my hair with
my fingers.  Unpacking would have to wait.  I didn't return to the
darkened room until ' I heard Mrs.  Orion tapping on the outer door and
calling my name.

When I opened it, the housekeeper noted that no lamps had been turned on
and nodded her understanding.  "I told the captain that he shouldn't put
you in Mrs.  Trench's room.  But then he hasn't set foot in here since
Susan hung all those terrible paintings of her grandmother's on the
wall."

"Susan hung these!  But why?"

"I wouldn't know," Mrs.  Orion said, squinting at the paintings with an
unpleasant expression on her face.

"You've never told the captain they're in here?"

"Would you want to tell him?  When I came here I heard a rumor that she
had committed suicide."

The paintings might bear that out, I thought, for they seemed to be the
work of a disturbed individual.  I followed Mrs.  Orion through the
sliding glass doors onto the wide deck, where a table had been
attractively set.  Subdued lighting, supplied by several votive candles,
offered a pleasant ambience and the light, fragrant breeze lifted my
spirits.

Corey was waiting for us, and he seated me with a flourish. My chair
faced the sound and I could look out over dark water to where scattered
lights shone on the mainland.

"Did you rest well?" Corey asked.  I caught a hint of mockery in his
voice, so I ignored his question and spoke to his mother.

"I'm still trying to understand why Susan would hang those paintings in
a room she meant to occupy.  How could she live with them?"

It was Corey who spoke.  "They're really bothering you, aren't they? But
they're not that bad.  Actually, they're rather beautiful."

I turned again to his mother.  "Could you possibly put me somewhere
else?"

Mrs.  Orion looked doubtful.  "The captain was definite about where you
should stay.  The other bedrooms are upstairs and he wanted you close
by-"

Corey suddenly seemed genuinely concerned.  He dropped his mocking tone
and spoke more quietly, surprising me.  "I'll take the paintings down,
hallie."

I thanked him stiffly.  I was still trying to get a sense of film.

He seemed charneleonlike in his personality.  But at least he was
considerate toward his mother, and rose to help her bring food to the
table.

My offer to assist was waved aside, and I sat down, suddenly realizing
how hungry I was.  Meals on planes left me indifferent, so.I'd eaten
little all day.  My emotions would be better in hand after I had some
food.

Corey brought in a big bowl of oyster stew, and his mother carried a
tray to the table with fresh salads, small, crisp oyster crackers, and
homemade hot rolls and butter.  Mrs.  Orion ladled the stew into smaller
bowls and I took a first spoonful.  In spite of burning my tongue, the
stew was perfect-the oysters barely curled at their edges, and yellow
pats of butter melting on the creamy surface.  Even the amount of salt
was exactly right.

Clearly Mrs.  Orion had a gift.

As I crumbled oyster crackers into my bowl, I asked, "Who are the people
next door?  I saw a young girl outside a little while ago."

Corey and his mother exchanged looks.  "You tell her, Ma," Corey said.

Mrs.  Orion looked thoughtful.  "They're an odd family.  I don't like to
gossip-"

Her son was quick.  "You love to gossip.  Go ahead."

"Well ...  there's a lot of history to the story next door. They've a
mix of Spanish and Scottish blood, to begin with."

"With a little gypsy stirred in for good measure," Corey added.  "all of
which make for volatility."

"Mrs.  Cameron is hardly a gypsy," his mother said.  "She's lived in
this country all her life.  And I must say Fergus Cameron dotes on her."

Corey picked up the story.  "Fergus was here on Topsall after World War
"and got to know Nicholas Trench when he and Nick were pretty young.
They made an unlikely pair because the captain was Annapolis and Cameron
was an enlisted man in the navy.  I guess work on Operation Bumblebee
threw them together.  Later, Cameron left the navy to work for a while
at Cape Canaveral after the Bumblebee project was dropped."

"What is Operation Bumblebee?" I asked.

"You mean nobody's told you?" Corey's tilted eyebrows lent themselves to
poking fun.  "Usually that's the first story we tell outsiders

"As you're doing now," I said.  "So go on."

He grinned at me.  "Right after World War II ended, the navy took over
Topsoil and kicked off the few fishermen who lived here.  It was all
hush-hush because the island was to be used for rocket launching.  Camp
Davis was already located across the sound and could serve as a base for
the men who worked on the project.  You saw the cement towers that run
down the island, didn't you?"

"Yes.  Mr.  Merrick told me to ask the captain about them."

"He can tell you a lot more than I can, since he was here when it was
happening, but I know the towers were used to track rocket launchings,
and I guess there were a number of firings." Corey, in spite of his
irritating manner, seemed genuinely caught up in the story.

"They called the POINT Bumblebee, and it was intended to give defense
support for the navy in the event of another war.

The missiles could shoot twenty miles out and supposedly knock off any
incoming attack.  Anyway, that was the ideauntil they gave up on Topsail
and moved out."

"Why was that?"

"Topsail's climate didn't cooperate.  Too much dampness.  So around 1948
the whole experiment moved south to Cape Canaveral, and the navy gave
the island back to North Carolina."

"By then, at least electricity had been brought in," Mrs. Orion said,
"and artesian wells had been dug and roads built."

Corey nodded.  "That's what helped open everything on Topsail to the
outside world.  Nobody had been interested in the island for development
purposes before.  The captain and Fergus Cameron had become close
friends and I guess they kept in touch.  They both liked Topsall, so
they bought land here and built the two houses they now live in.  Fergus
went on to become a noted rocket scientist until he retired."

Mrs.  Orion elaborated again.  "Fergus Cameron's second wife, Carlins,
is a lot younger than he is, and Dulcinea-the girl you saw-is the
daughter of that second marriage."

"Dulcinea?"

"After Don Quixote's beloved" Corey said.  "That kid carries an
interesting mix of legends in her head."

The look of hostility the child had given me was still puzzling.  "She
didn't seem friendly," I said.

Again I caught the look exchanged between Corey and his mother, but
neither commented.  Suddenly I realized I was about to doze over the
dish of fruit that had just been set before me, and Mrs.  Orion patted
my arm.  "You're tired from your long trip.  Let me see if you have
everything you need for the night.  Would you like Corey to take those
pictures down before you retire?"

I shook my head.  "Tomorrow will do.  With my eyes closed I won't see a
thing."

I told Corey good night and followed his mother to Susan's room.  When
she turned on a light, leaverted my eyes from Anne Trench's paintings
and waited until everything had.been checked out to Mrs.  Orion's
satisfaction.

The moment I was alone, I flicked off the switch.  Enough light came
through the bathroom door for me to find my bags. For a few moments I
stood at the side windows, looking down through treetops to the clearing
where the child called Dulcinea had played.  It was empty now.

Leaving the window open, I unpacked a few things I needed and got into
bed as quickly as I could.  Darkness shielded me from the strident wall
and I fell deeply, soundly asleep.

It was nearly morning when a dream wakened me.  Susan had been sitting
on my bed whispering, "Help him, hallie, help him." She murmured the
words several times before I blinked myself awake.  Suddenly the day
loomed ahead depressingly.

I tried to go back to sleep, turning to stretch my arm over the other
pillow, but my efforts were met with that stillunfamiliar emptiness, and
at once I was wide awake with more than Anne's paintings to worry me.  I
stared at the soft light coming in through the open window and indulged
myself in the satisfaction of despising Paul.

When he'd come into my life nearly ten years ago, I'd been new with the
literary agency.  Though I was born in Connecticut, I'd been living in
San Francisco and working at various secretarial jobs.  When a position
with a literary agency in Los Angeles was offered, I'd jumped to take
it.  The climate appealed to me, and the proximity of all that movie
glamour was fascinating.

Paul Knight was constantly in and out of the office, and I was assigned
to work with him on a manuscript he was grooming for one of the studios.
He had been an editor with a publishing house in New York, so he knew
that end of the business.  "The book comes before the movie script" he
often said, and he would work with authors to give their stories the
right touch to appeal to a producer.

Paul seemed to be everything I wasn't-dynamic, charming, successful in a
spectacular way.  The office lighted up when he came in.  I'd been
surprised when he asked me to have lunch with him one day.  I'd expected
him to want to talk about the manuscript we were working on, but to my
surprise he wanted to talk about me.

I remembered.  I remembered every detail much too clearly.

"You're a deep one," he told me, teasing a little.  "You don't talk a
lot, but when you do, what you have to say matters."

Most people regarded me as shy and not particularly interesting.  It
never occurred to most people to wonder what I might be thinking behind
my protectively quiet facade.  And there'd been no one since Susan
Trench to make demands on me.

Paul poked holes in my smoke screen right away.  He wanted to know about
me.

By our third lunch I was telling him that my parents had died in a
boating accident when I was five, and that I'd been raised by an
unmarried aunt in Berkeley-a woman who had taken me in out of duty to a
dead brother, but didn't really like children.  As I grew up I
discovered more and more that my aunt' s strict precepts could never be
mine.  The "don'ts" that were dinned into my ears had seemed unfair and
senseless.  Of course, most teenagers go through a stage of rebellion,
but at least the girls I knew had family love to see them through.  I
made a few good friends, but until college and Susan, there had never
been anyone who looked to me for affection and guidance.  Though we were
only a year apart in age, Susan quickly became the younger sister I'd
never had.  We had both lost our mothers as young children and that
understanding of pain and loss formed a solid bond between us.

Paul listened to all this.  He understood and sympathized without being
sorry for me.  He believed that I had enough character of my own to
succeed at whatever I wanted to do, and he told me so.  As we worked
together, he took me to meet some of his authors, and a confidence began
to grow in me that was new and satisfying.  Paul actually valued my
opinion and he listened to what I had to say.  Perhaps he was a born
teacher, and I was a willing student.

Before I met Paul, it had always been hard for me to trust anyone in a
close relationship.  After all, I had been the victim of my aunt's
repeated warnings.  Her basic refrain was that men couldn't be trusted.
She never revealed what had happened in her own life to sour her, but
she inoculated me with whatever poison) she had absorbed.

Paul was the least cynical person I'd ever known, and eventually he
cleansed me of the poison, turned me in new directions. No-matter what
he'd done, I owed him that.  He called me his "balance wheel," and he
would listen when I thought something through in my own careful way.  We
became friends as well as lovers, and when we married I couldn't imagine
ever wanting for anything more than I had.

Until now-when I didn't want the man I'd married or anyone else!  My
aunt had been right about men, after all.

 I found that my pillow was wet with tears that I hadn't meant to shed.
I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.  I couldn't spend my time
weeping and bemoaning.  I was worth more than that.  I would turn my
back on what I'd thought was MY life and let the people here distract
me.  I already liked Susan's grandfather, and now in the clear morning
light, I began to feel brave.  Trying to help the captain might do a
great deal toward helping me-even though the prospect for success in
locating Susan was anything but encouraging.  Besides, if he had some
other motive for bringing me here, then I wanted to know what it was.

Strangely, the paintings on the wall no longer bothered me as much as
they had the night before when I was tired.  I would let Corey take them
away, but I wouldn't allow myself to be upset by them.  I felt sympathy
for Anne Trench.  I didn't know what had tormented her, but I could
understand her anger.  It- just have been a release for her to pour it
out in this work.  The captain was probably no better than most men, and
Anne had undoubtedly suffered at his hands.

"Good for you for walking out!" I told the artist.  I doubted that a
woman who could vent her feelings like this would ever COMMIT SUICIDE.
THAT SHE'D DIED WHEN SHE WAS RELATIVELY young LIKE my own mother and
Susan's mother-was sad.

When I'd dressed in Jeans and a loose blue shirt, I slipped sandals onto
my bare feet and went out to the front deck.  If no one was stirring
yet, I would find my way across the main road to the beach and walk in
the sand.  Perhaps an ocean wind would blow the cobwebs away and I
wouldn't think of Paul.

But Mrs.  Orion, again in her sen-uniform of blue seersucker, with a
white apron tied around her waist, was already up, setting a table
outside for breakfast.  "Good morning, Mrs. Knight"$ she said upon
seeing me.  "Would you like something to eat now, or do you want to see
the captain first?  He's up and expecting you, whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready now," I told her and hurried across the wide deck to the
captain's corner room.

His door stood open, and when I tapped and walked through, I found him
sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a blue silk dressing gown, with a
jaunty yellow scarf at his throat.  He didn't look as desperately in as
he had the night before; perhaps my arrival had given some new interest
to his life.

"You look more cheerful than you did last night."

In that case my look was deceptive, but I smiled at him.  "So do you."

He flicked a hand at a tray nearby.  "I've finished breakfast, and for
once I had an appetite." He glanced past me to Mrs. Orion in the
doorway.  "Will you bring another tray in here for hallie, Mrs.  O?"

Mrs.  Orion nodded at the captain in approval.  "Of course. What would
you like, Mrs.  Knight?"

"Toast and coffee would be fine, please," I said, and sat down beside
the captain's chair.  He watched me intently and I sensed that some
unspoken question hung in the air.

I gave him what little I could.  "I'll stay for a few days, even a week,
if you like.  But I'm still not sure that there's anything I can do.
Mostly I'd just like to get acquainted with Susan's grandfather.  She
talked about you a great deal, you know."

He dismissed sentimentality.  "You can do more than you think.  You can
begin in that room where you slept last night. When Susan was last seen,
she was writing a letter at the desk in that room. Where did she go when
she left?  Or was she taken away?  What happened to her?"

This morning all the draperies were open in the captain's room, and
light spined in, rippling on the ceiling in a reflection of water from
the sound.

"Perhaps I could wheel you out on the deck, since it's such a beautiful
day," I suggested.

He shook his head.  "Not now.  I may go out there later.  No one can
hear us in here.  Whatever I decide to tell you is for your ears only."

Mrs.  Orion returned with a tray for me, a sprig of dogwood lending its
white beauty to the simple breakfast.  I drank orange juice, sipped
strong coffee, and spread marmalade on toast.  I was grateful for the
sliced banana that had been added and ate with a better appetite than
I'd expected.  But the captain's fixed ittention was disconcerting, and
the long silence seemed heavy.  Finally I had to break it.

"Last night at dinner Mrs.  Orion's son told me a little of Topsoil's
history."

"Operation Bumblebee, I suppose?  Do you know why it was called that?" I
said I didn't, and he pointed to a framed script on the wall nearby. I
went over to read it.

The Bumblebee Cannot Fly According to recognized aerotechnical tests the
bumblebee ca not fly because of the shape and weight of his body in
relation to the total wing area. But the bumblebee doesn't know this, so
he goes ahead and flies anyway.

I went back to him smiling.  "I hope you'll tell me more about that time
yourself, captain Trench."

"That was a long while ago.  I was a green kid." He dismissed the
subject.  "I must tell you something-warn you.  My son's wife, Louise,
is coming over to take you to lunch today.  It's her idea.  I didn't
suggest it."

I wondered about his use of the word warn.

"That's kind of her.  Will I meet your son?"

"If he happens to surface.  Sometimes I don't see them, even when they
come to the island.  His wife doesn't like this house."

While I could sense the captain's disapproval, I could under stand that
this place might have unhappy memories for Susan's father.

Perhaps it was time to tell him something about myself, and I spoke
frankly.  "You might as well know that I'm here because I'm running
away."

His searching look intensified.  "From what?"

"My husband is in love with another woman.  I found out only days ago.
Your letter came just in time to rescue me."

He asked a strange question.  "Did your husband know you were leaving?"

"He walked out first.  I suppose he'll only return to pick up his
things.

"And he'll find you gone?"

"That's what I wanted.  I hoped he might even be hurt a little."

"You'll let him know where you've gone?"

"Of course," I said stiffly.

"I never heard from Anne, my wife-after she went away."

He looked so weary that I knew he needed a break from a conversation
that had grown unhappy.  "Perhaps you can rest a little and then we'll
talk again later."

"Go across to the beach," he said.  "My property runs clear to the
ocearmot very far at this point.  When you cross the main road you'll
see steps leading up to a gazebo built on this side of the dunes.  The
far steps will lead you down to the beach."

I thanked him for the directions and went downstairs through the garage.
The little girl, Dulcinea, was outdoors again.  She sat in a swing that
had been hung from the sturdy branch of a live oak tree, and was reading
a book.  Now and then the child touched a toe to the ground to keep the
swing moving gently.  She didn't respond to my presence-in fact ignored
me so completely that I knew how conscious of me she had to be.  The
frown she wore further suggested an awareness of me, rather than simple
annoyance with her book.  Hair curled about her face and hung long down
her back-a gleaming red, with streaks of gold where sunshine touched it.
I hadn't been able to see its full, rich color last night.

"Good morning," I said cheerfully.  "I'm hallie Knight.  I'm visiting
captain Trench."

This time she looked up from her pages and I saw a freckled nose, and
bright green eyes that surveyed me with scorn.  "My family doesn't speak
to his family," she announced, glancing to ward the captain's house.

The hostility I'd sensed the night before was even more evident now, and
I tried to offer reassurance.  "That needn't matter to us.  After all,
I'm not family.  I went to college with Susan Trench a long time ago.
You knew Susan, didn't you?"

She left the swing so abruptly that the seat sprang away crookedly,
striking the tree.  In her haste, she dropped her book as she raced
toward the Cameron house.  In a moment she had disappeared around its
south corner in the direction of the sound.  An astonishing reaction.

As I watched in surprise, a woman came to the front door and step skirt
that suggested the green of the ocean.  A rainbow pattern ran around the
hem, shimmering as she moved.  Several strands of bright beads cascaded
over the front of her white blouse, and above its rounded top her neck
held her head high like the stem of a flower.

Dulcinea's green eyes clearly came from her mother, and they seemed as
watchful in mother as in daughter.  Carlina Cameron's hair, hoAever, was
a glossy black mass that waved down her back.  Gold hoop earrings caught
the sunlight as she descended the steps.  Altogether, the effect was
striking, and I recalled Corey's term for her-"gypsy." She was probably
in her forties, so Dulcinea must have been a late child.

I walked toward her, holding out my hand.  Her fingers were cool, her
touch quickly withdrawn, and the green eyes watched me, questioning.

Again I tried for reassurance, and began introducing myself., but she
interrupted at once.

"Yes, I know who you are," she said.  "I am Carlina Cameron. I
understand captain Trench has invited you to come visit because you were
Susan's friend."

She was, I realized now, even more than striking: She was vividly
beautiful, her smooth skin slightly olive in tone, and her features
perfectly formed.  When she smiled she would probably be stunning, but
there was no smile for me now.

I tried to explain my presence.  "captain Trench wants me to share my
memories of his granddaughter.  She and I became friends when we went to
school together."

"He probably wants more than that" the woman said sharply. "Susan didn't
make friends, but she had a talent for making enemies.

"I was her friend," I said, and then added deliberately, "The Captain
wants me to find out what happened to her."

Carlina stood very still, staring at me.  "Do you realize how many
detectives he's had searching for her?"

"Yes, but they didn't know her.  I'll stay for as long as I can and try
to help."

"I don't think he's told you the real reason why you're here. Have you
met Louise and Ryce yet?"

I shook my head, feeling lost in a mire of relationships that I didn't
understand.  "But I'm having lunch with Louise today."

She considered this for a moment and then said, "all of us are concerned
for the captain."

"Your daughter said your families weren't speaking."

"Dilcinea dramatizes and exaggerates.  all that was in the past.

just try not to upset captain Trench any more than you can help. Listen
to Mrs.  Orion.  She's the sensible one in that house."

And probably Mrs.  Cameron's informant.  Either she or her son, Corey.

Without waiting for a response from me, Carlina Cameron went back up the
steps and into the house.  The screen door closed behind her-and that
was that.

As I crossed the yard, I saw the book the child had dropped and picked
it up to look at the title.  It was called The Power of Gem Stones.
Colored pictures of semiprecious stones ran through it, and the pages
fell open readily to a section on amethysts.  I remembered that Susan
had been fascinated by the lore connected with such stones.  Perhaps she
had introduced the subject to Dulcinea.

I placed the book on the seat of the swing and walked away from the two
houses toward the road.  Again I was aware of dark, tangled branches
meeting overhead as the road climbed to the highway.  Now and then a car
went by on the higher road, but there seemed to be little traffic this
morning.  It felt good to move quickly, yet with a special consciousness
of the scene around me.  I listened to snatches of birdsong and heard
children's voices as I passed another house half hidden by the low green
trees of the maritime forest.

When I reached the main road, I saw the gazebo the captain had
mentioned.  It rose between low, intertwined trees that separated two
small houses.

I crossed to follow a wooden walkway that led to steep steps, and
climbed to the floor of the gazebo.  There I stood looking out over a
long crescent of white beach toward the Atlantic Ocean.

The roof of the gazebo was supported by six white columns. Open
latticework came partway up on either side, and benches offered a place
to rest out of the sun and watch the Atlantic roll in.  I stood for a
moment at the top of the far steps, looking out over the long stretch of
sand.  The beach ran the length of Topsoil Island, white and clean, with
surf forming a lacy trim.  In the morning's sunny cali- the ocean was
green near the shore, deepening to gray-blue as it spread out in a vast
rolling plain that reached to the horizon and other continents.

This was certainly a barrier island.  Considering the assault of ocean
storms over the centuries, it was a wonder it had survived long enough
to become inhabited.

Steps at my feet descended to a landing and then dropped to where the
sand began.  I left my sandals on the bottom step and rolled my jeans
above my knees.  Mrs.  Orion had told me that later in the day the sand
would become too hot for bare feet, so I should enjoy it now.  I ran
down to where the waves curled in and walked on the damp sand.  Doing
pleasant, physical things kept me from thinking too much.

Two children played beside a beach umbrella that sheltered their mother,
and they waved as I walked past.  Farther along a man knelt beside a
collection of flotsam thrown up by the ocean.  He was bareheaded and his
dark hair caught glints from the sun.  He had tied his shirtsleeves
around his waist.  Rolled-up jeans showed strong brown legs.  When he
moved, could see it was Corey Orion, and I walked up the beach toward
him.

On the land side, beyond the dunes, the roofs of houses showed in all
their variety.  At intervals more steps came down over the dunes,
offering access to the beach.  The darker waterline, marked by broken
shells, seaweed, and other detritus from the sea, indicated the reach of
the water.

Corey, his dark head bent, was so absorbed in picking through whatever
treasure the waves had washed up that he didn't see me until I stood
beside him.

"Any good finds this morning?" I asked.

He smiled at me-a nice smile, when he chose to use it. "Something for
you" he said, and held up a small black object, perhaps an inch long,
with three smooth, rounded points.  The ocean had polished it to a
glassy surface.

"That's a shark's tooth," Corey said.  "Maybe a mako shark, since the
edge isn't serrated the way the teeth of the big whites are.  Those
teeth are fossils, of course-maybe a minion years old."

I examined the object with respect.  "Thank you.  Do sharks lose their
teeth very often?"

"They're lost easily because they aren't rooted in the jaw. They grow in
the gums, and when they fall out, the shark develops another set. very
convenient."

This morning Corey's dark eyes were friendlier, and there was no mockery
in his manner as there'd been the day before.  Clearly this treasure
from the sea interested him and lifted his spirits.

"It's a funny thing," he went on.  "Everything else that goes into the
ocean is consumed in one way or another, but not the teeth of the shark.
So they're always being washed up for us beachcombers to find."

"Are the teeth always black like this one?"

"That depends on the silt they were buried in.  They aren't black in the
shark's mouth, of course."

He held up a shell and again I accepted his gift.  It was shaded from
white to gray with corrugated ridges, perfectly shaped and unbroken.

"It's only a cockle, but pretty," he said.  "I have a collection up at
the house of things I've found down here.  In the summer Susan and I
used to come down to the beach early to find what had washed up
overnight.  When she went away to college she gave me her collection,
and I still have it.  I'll show you someTIME IF YOU LIKE.

"Thank you," I said.  But there was more on my mind this morning than
what had been left by the sea.  I dropped down beside him and traced an
absentminded pattern in the sand.

"Corey, I saw the little girl, Dulcinea, again when I came out of the
house this morning.  She told me that her family and captain Trench's
don't talk to each other.  I met her mother, too, and she didn't seem
all that friendly.  Tell me what's going on.

One eyebrow lifted.  "You aren't going to let anything alone, are you?
You like to dig for treasure, too."

"People are more interesting to me than shells."

"Besides, you're supposed to play detective, aren't you?"

"Not really.  I won't be around long enough for that.  But Dulcinea and
her mother made me curious."

he shrugged.  "Susan told me a little about what happened between the
families.  She didn't care much for Carlina Cameron.  But with Susan I
could never tell how much was exaggerated and how much was true."

I remembered that trait of Susan's-how she'd liked to embraider.

"Tell me what she said, Corey."

He gathered up a handful of sand and broken shells and tossed them
toward the water.  "I didn't always like the games Susan used to play.
She could really bug people."

"Don't you play games?"

His smile was gone.  "Sometimes I tease.  But teasing comes at different
levels.  Don't you ever like to tease?"

Now and then Paul had told me to lighten up-that I lacked a sense of
humor.  I didn't think that was true.  People didn't always find the
same things funny.

When I didn't answer, Corey produced his ready grin.  "I knew Susan
pretty well.  My mother and I moved in after her grandmother left, and
we were thrown together.  She was my girl for a while when we were in
our teens, but when she went off to school in California, we eventually
stopped writing.  And when she came back on vacation, things had
changed.  She wasn't ready to settle down and be serious-and I wasn't
either."

We were both quiet for a while and I studied the little cockleshell in
my fingers.  When I looked up he was staring at me openly and I again
felt the challenge in him.

"I know why you're here," he said.  "The captain talks to me sometimes.
He'll never stop trying to find out what happened to Susan.  I suppose
you're the last straw he can reach for-being her friend."

A pretty weak straw, I thought.  "This morning the captain told me that
the last time Susan was seen she was in her grandmother's room.  Did you
see her the day she disappeared?"

"Sure.  I could have been the last one to see her.  I went to her room
to ask about something, and she was sitting at her desk writing a
letter.  The letter disappeared with her."

"No one saw her walk out of the house?"

"Nobody who would talk."

"What did you want from her that day?"

He got up from the sand, dusted off his Jeans, and then held out a hand
to pull me up.  "Let's start back.  We can walk while you're playing
detective."

Corey had a knack for rubbing me the wrong way.  "Stop that!  I'm no
detective, but I am curious."

His grin was growing all too familiar.  "So that calm, controlled
exterior hides a temper?  Interesting."

I wasn't always so edgy, and I managed to respond quietly. "Susan was my
friend.  I want to know what happened to her. Besides, I like the
captain, and I'd be happy to help him in any way I can.  You didn't
answer my question about what you wanted when you went to see Susan that
day."

"What I went to ask her about isn't important." He didn't look at me as
we walked on across the loose white sand- When


we neared the steps he added, "I can't remember what it was, anyway.
Maybe something trivial, like "Where did you put my- whatever.  I
suppose she didn't know, because she went right on writing.  I didn't
see her again.  What happened afterwards-all the commotion when she
couldn't be found knocked that stuff out of my head."

"Do you think she's dead?"

He backed away from that.  "I don't think she'd have willingly left the
captain without a word.  He meant more to her than her father ever did."

"The captain thinks she was murdered.  Do you suppose she could have
been killed in her grandmother's room?"

"You're reaching" he said.  "There was never any evidence."

"There's an answer somewhere.  People don't just disappear. There has to
be a lead."

He had no answer for that.

I brushed sand off my legs and rolled down my jeans.  When I slipped on
my sandals and climbed the steps, he came with me. I pulled him down on
the bench in the gazebo.

"Tell me about the captain," I said.  "What's wrong with him?"

all the fun went out of Corey.  "It's cancer.  He should have been dead
months ago, according to the doctors, but he won't have that.  He's like
the bumblebee.  He doesn't accept that he CAN't be alIVE , so he goes on
living.  I don't think he'll die until he's ready to."

"I like that.  Good for captain Trench!"

Corey smiled grimly, but he wanted no more questions.  He left me
sitting there and went off alone.  I felt more unsettled and anxious
than ever as I walked slowly down the lane that led to the house.  For a
little while Paul had been no more than a shadowy presence at the back
of my mind, but of course, the moment I had time to remember, he was
there not the angry man I'd last seen, but the husband I had loved and
counted on. That was the worst part of all, since, as I'd recently
discovered, that man didn't really exist.

When I reached the captain's house I hurried upstairs to his room.  The
door stood partly open and I heard a woman's voice. I tapped and he
called to me to come in.  He was sitting up in bed, and a
striking-looking woman sat in the chair beside him. She turned as I came
in and rose to hold out her hand.

"Hello.  I'm Louise Trench, and of course you must be Susan's friend.  I
do hope you can manage some good talks with captain Trench about Susan
before you go home."

Though her handclasp was strong, her clear blue eyes were cool.  Susan's
stepmother was still beautiful, with a good deal of charm at her
command-something she now turned on me in a welcome I didn't altogether
trust.  Her carefully tended hair had been drawn into a shining twist
that crossed the back of her head and was tucked into place with small
amber combs.  Her dress was made of amber silk, with a tiny pink figure
in the print.  She was probably in her fifties, though she wore her
years well.  I felt immediately conscious of my sandy jeans and
wilidblown hair, and wished that Susan had told me something about her
stepmother.

The captain was watching us from beneath half-closed eyes, and I went
around the bed to pull over a chair so I could sit beSIde HIM and look
across at Louse Trench.  Again I noticed his fine blue dressing gown and
elegant scarf.  I suspected that he still chose whatever he put on, and
that he had once worn a uniform with pride.

"I'm early," Louise went on pleasantly.  "I wanted a little visit with
Father before we left.  We'll have lunch in Wilmington, Mrs.  Knight, if
you don't mind a drive.  That will give us some time to get acquainted.
I was very fond of Susan, you know."

I didn't know, and when I caught a glint in the captain's eyes, I
wondered.  I hadn't warmed toward this woman and I disliked the idea of
spending hours in her company, but, obviously, I had no choice.

"Richard is meeting us at the restaurant in Wilmington," she explained.
"Richard Merrick, who met your plane yesterday."

That would help a little-not to be alone with Louise.

The captain spoke grumpily from the bed.  "Well, you'd better get
dressed and get going, hallie.  Tell Mrs.  Orion to come in.  I want to
get up in my chair again and go out on the deck for a while."

"A good idea," Louise agreed.  "It's a lovely day.  I'll call her for
you."

I stood up.  "Can I help you into your chair, captain?  If you like, I
can wheel you outside."

He scowled at me.  "Can't you call me something besides captain'?  I
seem to be caught between people who boss me, like Mrs.  Orion, and
those who hold me off with a lot of false respect."

He seemed to be ignoring the "Father" title that Louise Trench had
produced.

"I'll think about it," I said.  Being impulsive wasn't my thing, but
something prompted me to lean over and kiss the captain's cheek.  "How
is that?  Fresh is something different, isn't it?"

"Fresh I like.  Now get me into my chair.  No, don't bother yourself,
Louise.  This one will manage."

As I wheeled his chair over to the bed, I caught the look on Louise's
face and was startled.  For just an instant a look of antipathy had
rested on me.  Then she was smiling blandly again.

"Of course we must humor him," she said archly.  "Even when he's being
naughty."

I could tell by the look on his face that, in a moment, Nicholas Trench
was going to roar at his daughter-in-law in his best topside voice.

"I'm not sure how to manage getting you into the chair," I said quickly,
and the distraction served.

"I can get up on my own," he said.  "Just put the brakes on the chair
and give me a hand if I need it."

He didn't need it.  He stood up on legs that were only a little shaky
and sat down in the chair.  At his direction I drew a light blanket over
his knees, and he was ready by the time Mrs. Orion came bustling into
the room.  "I'll take him out on the deck," she told Louise.  "I know
you want to get started for Wilmington."

"I'll hurry and change," I said quickly.  "When I get back from lunch
I'll look in on you again, Nicholas."

His sudden warm smile expressed his approval of me, but Mrs.  Orion
spoke with authority.  "Please see me first, Mrs. Knight.  The captain
likes to have a long nap in the afternoon."

The captain snorted and winked at me openly.  "Ye )u see what I'm up
against?  You have orders to see me as soon as you get back to the
house, young lady!"

Mrs.  Orion wheeled him abruptly out onto the deck and Louise followed
her.  "Ryce and I are so glad you're here, Mrs.  O.  It's wonderful that
you've stayed with him all these years.

Mrs.  Orion gave her a stolid look and said nothing.

Louise tried again, though I sensed the artificiality of her manner.
"How is your son?  Is he working somewhere on the island?"

Mrs.  Orion's shrug indicated resignation.  "He's about to start a job
working part time at the Soundside restaurant-waiting on tables at
night.  That leaves him time for all the things he feels are important
during the day."

Louise's smile was sympathetic.  "He's a good boy, I'm sure. And he'll
grow up eventually."

Since Corey was close to my own age, this seemed terribly patronizing,
but I imagined that he could take care of himself.  I was beginning to
suspect the "young" act he affected.  However, his mother's reaction to
Louise made me curious.  I had the feeling that she didn't trust her,
and was uneasy with her, but wanted to keep up a front of courtesy.

I left them on the deck and hurried off to my room and a quick shower.
Then I put on a sheath the color of ripe wheat, and added antique coral
beads and earrings.  Never remembering that Paul had given them to me. I
wouldn't think about that now.

When I rejoined Louise, we went down to her blue Mercedes, parked in the
driveway.  As we got in I saw that Dulcinea WAS OUTSIDE again.  I waved
a hand at the girl, but there was no response.

"An obnoxious child," Louise said as we drove back to the highway that
would take us to the bridge.

I couldn't agree.  "That's a pretty strong word.  Dulcinea told me that
her father's family and the captain's don't speak to each other.  Though
I understand they were once friends."

Louise turned onto the crossroad that led to the bridge.  "I don't know
the details, but undoubtedly it was Fergus's wife who caused the
trouble.  Nick had a thing for Carlina before she married Fergus.  Anne,
Nick's wife, was the one who suffered the most from what happened."

"At least she got away," I said.

"She'd never have been one to stick around and take second place.  I
can't say I was fond of her, but I never blamed her for leaving."

"What happened to her exactly?" I asked.

"You'd better ask Ryce about that.  After all, she was his mother."

I determined to ask no more questions during our drive to Wilmington,
since Louise obviously didn't welcome them.  I would simply watch the
great stands of pine trees that I'd seen from the air, and offer no more
ideas of my own.

Louise drove competently, sure of her car, and very sure of herself Now
she kept up what was not exactly a conversation, since she did most of
the talking.  Perhaps she wanted to prevent my asking questions.
Everyone I'd met since I'd come to North Carolina seemed to be harboring
some secret, and Louise was no exception.  My attention wandered until
she mentioned her husband's name.

"It's been dreadful for all of us, of course:' Louise ran on. "But poor
Ryce has had more than his share of unhappiness."

That was certainly true.  He had lost his mother and his first wife.
Then his daughter had disappeared.  I still found it strange that Susan
had talked so little about any member of her family except her
grandfather.

"Were Susan and her father close?" I asked.

"Not exactly close.  Susan had her own interests, which wern't always
ours."

I could imagine that was true.

"Ryce and his father tried IN EVERY WAY possible to find Susan, but of
course nothing worked out."

"Why 'of course'?"

"If Susan chose to disappear, I think she could do it without leaving a
trace.  I know the captain believes she's dead, but I have never been
convinced."

"When will I meet her father?" I asked.

It seemed a natural question, but Louise's hands tightened on the wheel.
"He's very busy right now.  We'll have to see if we can work something
out."

"Was there anything Susan was running away from?"

"I wouldn't know.  I never tried to figure out her motives. She always
seemed to follow inner promptings of her own."

That was a good way to put it, I thought.  Susan had had a taste for the
mysterious and dramatic when we'd been close.  I'd often thought that
she en oyed tant2dizing people.  And her temper could be explosive.

"I was very fond of Susan," I said.  "She was different from other girls
I knew, and a lot more interesting.  I could never guess what she would
do next."

"She was always like that.  I doubt if we'll ever find her. "I she wants
us to."

I spoke quietly, watching Louise's profile as she drove.  Seen from the
side, she had a sharper look than when one saw her full-face.  "Both the
captain and Corey Orion think she is dead."

"That's because they can't accept that she would go off without telling
them.  The captain is lost in his own fantasy about his granddaughter.
And of course Corey was foolishly in love with her.  I wouldn't pay much
attention to anything he said."

"Foolishly?" I repeated.

She didn't turn her head.. "Just figure it out."

"I can't see why anyone would want to harm Susan I said. "It's true that
some people disliked her, but I never heard of her having serious
enemies."

"She was worth more alive with all that money behind her," Louise said.
"Not even my husband knows how much Nick has put away.  Richard Merrick
takes care of his affairs, and he's not talking.  But I'm sure there's a
great deal."

Which would now come to Louise's husband when the captain died, if he
was the only heir.  Would Nicholas have bypassed Ryce and left his
fortune to his granddaughter?  I wondered.

Louise went on.  "Eventually Susan would have been a wealthy heiress-the
captain would have seen to that.  So there were always interested young
men around."

"When I knew her, she wasn't attracted by the idea of marriage.  But of
course people change.  She told me that her mother died when she was
very young and she was raised by her grandparents.  Though she only
talked about her grand father-never her grandmother.  From what I've
learned since coming here, Anne Trench must have been a strong
character. Didn't she get along with Susan?"

"Who ever got along with Susan?"

"I got along with her fine," I said mildly, but firmly.  "Can you tell
me when her grandmother died?"

Louise looked at me in surprise.  "Whatever made you think she was
dead?"

It was my turn to be surprised.  "The captain told me that."

"He would!  I suppose he regarded her as dead the minute she went off
and divorced him.  She moved to Boston and she's been up there painting
ever since.  She's had a few notable shows and won some awards.  Several
museums collect her paintings. This began to happen soon after she left
the captain, so Susan would have known about it."

"Does Ryce hear from his mother?"

Her answer was indirect.  "Ryce was always on his father's SIde, which
didn't please Anne.  But I've looked her up once or twice when I've been
in Boston-though not since Susan disappeared-and she was perfectly
cordial."

"I'm puzzled that Susan never talked to me about such a talented
grandmother."

"She probably never forgave Anne for leaving Nick."

I noticed that she'd stopped calling him "Father."

"It's a wonder the captain didn't throw out those angry paintings his
wife did.  Have you ever seen them-the abstracts?"

Louise spoke softly.  "I think it was Susan who rescued her
grandmother's work when her grandfather threw them out.  But he couldn't
very well throw out what was in his own mind, could he?"

"Does he know the paintings are still in the house?"

"I can't believe that he does.  He wouldn't stand for it.  She painted
them to hurt him, and she succeeded."

"Perhaps it was a release for her to paint them.  Perhaps he deserved
what she did."

Louise threw me another look of surprise, but she didn't comment. "We're
coming into Wilmington now, hallie.  It's a wonderful old city that lies
between the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean."

The subject of Susan and her family had been dropped for the moment, and
I was just as glad.

We were following the side of a hill that ran parallel to the river
below, and after a block or two Louise turned down toward the
waterfront.

"This is the old downtown area," she said.  "The Cotton Exchange has
been restored and turned into a collection of shops. If you were going
to be here longer, I'd take you through it one day."

Whenever Louise mentioned my "visit," she seemed to imply that I would
be here for only a few days at most.  I let her think what she liked,
since I didn't know myself how long I would stay.  A lot would depend on
the captain and what he expected of me.

On the riverfront street she turned left.  "We're going to the other
end-to Chandler's Wharf.  Richard thought you might enjoy a table beside
the river."

Elijah's, where we were to have lunch, was only a few blocks from where
we left the car.  We walked the rest of the way on old cobblestones.

Inside the restaurant we were led to a table in a porch area. Richard
Merrick had already arrived.  I was seated where I could look across the
wharf below us to the river.  The bridge was close, built with a high
section between two towers that could be raised for the passing of
ships.

Richard had risen to greet us, with a special smile for Louise and a
questioning look for me.  He was almost as fair as she was, and they
looked very handsome together.  But these relationships were none of my
business, and I knew better than to judge anyone.

"I'm sorry Ryce couldn't make it," Louise told Richard, and then
explained further to me.  "He manages our small farm, you know, and it
keeps him very busy.  It's not really a plantation, though the house is
historic and is called a plantation house.  If you're still planning to
be here, perhaps you would come to dinner tomorrow night?  Ryce is
anxious to meet you.  And of course I'd like you to come, too, Richard.
Perhaps you could drive hallie over?"

"A pleasure," Richard said, though I wondered if it was. Something about
Richard Merrick's manner left me feeling uncertain.  Now he put his
question into words.  "So what do you think of the captain, hallie?"

Above our row of window tables, celling fans alternated with hanging
light fixtures, and I studied a soup spoon in the bowl of which a
miniature fan reflection turned lazily.  I wasn't sure what to say about
the captain.

"I like him-though I hardly know him yet.  Mrs.  Orion treats him as if
he were a helpless invalid, which I'm sure he resents.  Anyway, I can't
do what he asks."

"What is that?" Louise asked quickly.

There seemed no reason not to talk about the captain's impossible
request.  "He has a notion that I can find out what happened to Susan."

Louise and Richard exchanged looks.  "What could you possibly do?"
Louise asked.

I tried to explain how I felt.  "I told him there was no way I could
think of to help him, but he didn't listen.  I'll try to make him
understand that there's nothing I can do.  Then perhaps I can go home.
Unless he has some particular task for me."

Richard seemed concerned when it came to the captain's well-being.
"There's a deep pain in that man that has never stopped gnawing at him.
And I don't mean his very real physical pain.  It was eating him alive
even before Susan disappeared.  He won't rest-he can't rest-until he
finds some sort of answer to what happened to her."

"What if there is no answer that can ever be discovered?" I asked.

Louise agreed.  "Exactly.  But he's never been a man you could argue
with."

I tried to give my attention to the menu, and when our waitress came, I
ordered simply-Maryland crab cakes, a baked potato, and salad.  While
the other two decided, I looked out the window to the river flowing
beyond the wide wharf.  The water had a dark, almost reddish tone.

"What a strange color," I said.

Richard explained.  "The color comes from tannic acid leached by cypress
trees upriver."

"If you don't do anything else during your brief visit, you mustn't miss
exploring the Cape Fear area," Louise said when the waitress had gone.
"There's a stern-wheeler that takes passengers downriver, so if there's
time you could make that trip.

I smiled and nodded, but I wasn't here for sightseeing.  As I looked out
at the water, a freighter came downstream.  The bridge span was high
enough for it to pass under without the center span needing to be
raised.  The sight held my attention, until Louise made a soft sound of
dismay.  She was looking down the porch area toward the end of our row
of tables, and I saw that a man was coming toward us.

He was a rather small individual whose basic coloring seemed to be
gragray suit, gray hair, gray eyes.  Perhaps a sad, gray nature.

Louise was clearly not pleased to see him.  She watched coolly as he
approached our table.

He nodded at the other two and held out his hand to me. "I'm Ryce
Trench.  I'm happy to meet my daughter's friend."

His handclasp was firm, even warm.  When he glanced at his "WIfe,
however, his expression seemed carefully blank, and he went on speaking
directly to me.  "I decided that I wouldn't wait until you came to see
us as my wife had planned, but would Join you for lunch.  May I sit
down?" Without waiting for an invitation, he took the chair next to me.
"How is my father since you've arrived?"

Louise broke in before I could speak.  "I had a visit with him this
morning, Ryce.  He seems weaker every time I go to Topsal .

Ryce kept his eyes on me, and it was as though she hadn't spoken.  I had
been wrong about him.  He wasn't entirely gray.  A spark of barely
hidden fire burned in his eyes.  Not even his Southerri good manners
held it entirely in check, and I knew that he was a deeply angry man.

I answered quietly.  "I like your father very much, but I haven't any
comparisons that I'm able to make about his life.

I hope I can be of some use to him.  He wants me to tell him some of my
memories of Susan, and I'D certainly be able to do that."

The spark I'd seen so briefly had gone, and the grayness again
dominated. "Susan's dead," he said flatly.  "That's not why you're here,
Hattie. Father is trying you out, testing you while he makes up his
mind."

"To what purpose?" I asked.

The waitress arrived to take Ryce's order, and he waved her away with a
request for coffee and key lime pie.  When she'd gone he looked at
Richard for the first time.  "You haven't told her?"

"There's hardly been time," Richard said.  "Mrs.  Knight needs to orient
herself a little.  Besides, I feel that it's up to the captain to tell
her when and whatever he chooses."

Ryce ignored this.  "My father wants to write you into his will because
he is grateful for all you did for Susan.  But I'm sure he wants to get
to know you a little better before explaining his plan."

"He mentioned his will in the letter he sent me.  I've told Mr. Merrick
that if it is more than a token gift, I won't accept it."

Ryce shook his head.  "You don't know it all, Mrs.  Knight. My father is
setting certain conditions that you may not want to accept.  You can
resist by refusing the conditions."

"Then that's probably what I will do."

Louise made a sound with her pursed lips-perhaps meant for a laugh.

"We all know your opinion on this, Louise." Ryce spoke mildly, but I
sensed that smoldering spark in him again.  "It's up to my father to
tell you, when he's ready, Mrs.  Knight.  I hope you will remain until
then."

I knew I would remain a while longer, in any case.  Not because of the
captain's will, but because I wasn't ready to return to the reality of
an empty apartment.

"I'll wait," I said, looking at each of them for a moment.  "If it's not
too long."

Ryce's smile was kind and he seemed to approve of me.  I couldn't read
what either Richard or Louise thought.

Another freighter was going past on the river, and this time the
suspension section rose between the towers to allow for its passage.  I
watched until the freighter had gone through, and while our meal was
served.

laxed into si I As we ate, Louise engaged Richard in conversation while
I spoke quietly to the man beside me.

"When Susan told me about Topsoil Island, she only mentioned her
grandfather.  So I know nothing about the rest of the family."

"Susan carried a load of unforgivingness" Ryce said sadly. "Perhaps she
was too much like her grandmother in that.  My mother was not a
forgiving woman and her anger could be a match for my father's."

"Was she angry with you?"

"She was mad at the universe.  I hear she's mellowed, but I wouldn't
know."

He glanced at Louise, but she wasn't listening, and he went on.  "Susan
could be filled with more than anger.  When it came to her family, venom
might be a better word.  But tell me about you, hallie Knight."

That wasn't a subject I wanted to talk about.  "There's nothing much to
tell."

He saw my reluctance.  "Did Susan ever discuss what she wanted to do
with her life?"

I shook my head.  "She had so many talents.  She could have been a
writer, or a dancer, or an artist like her grandmother.  But there never
seemed to be one thing that held her interest for long."

"Was she happy then?  During college and before she returned to
Topsail?"

"I don't think she was unhappy.  Perhaps she was still searching, as
most of us were in those days.  Being young isn't always a happy time."

"Come to think of it" Ryce said, "I don't know very many happy people of
any age."

But I had been happy.  I'd been happy in my marriage, in my work.  I'd
felt that I was making up for the unhappiness of my younger years.
Now-in a flash-that good life I'd made for myself was gone.

"Other than their mutual capacity for anger, was Susan anything like her
grandmother?" I asked.

"In some ways she was.  There was the same excitement in her that my
mother always had.  An eagerness for life.  Perhaps a dangerous
eagerness.  But in the last years here she seemed to lose that spark."

The word dangerous caught my ear.  "I think you're right. Sometimes
Susan would take risks.  I'm afraid I was the sensible one who often
spoiled her fun."

"She used to talk about you, even after you stopped exchanging letters.
She envied your happy marriage.  Men were attracted to her, but she was
always too restless to settle down.  I used to think that she and Corey
Orion hit it off well.  Both Corey's mother and I would have been
pleased, I think, to see something solid develop between them."

We'd been talking about her in the past tense, and I put my question
bluntly.  "Do you think she was murdered?  It's what the captain
believes."

He seemed to freeze, as though the word cut through some web of
protection against inner pain, and at once I was sorry I'd spoken out.

Louise must have been listening, after all.  She turned from her talk
with Richard.  "Murder?  Who has been murdered?"

"The captain believes Susan was" I said.

"Nicholas Trench is not in possession of his right senses," Louise said
sharply.  "I've often thought that it would be better for everyone if he
could be put-"

Richard rested a hand on her arm, stopping her.  "Easy, Louise."

"Well, it's true that Ryce should be able to make important decisions
for himself."

Her husband merely looked at her.  Perhaps he looked into her, for she
flushed angrily.

The word murder had touched some level of response in each of them. Even
in Richard, who was watching me WARILy.  Certainly It had ended our
meal.  Suddenly it was as if a silent signal had been given and we were
ready to leave.  No one had answered the challenge of the question I had
flung down.

Richard signaled for the check, and while we waited, Ryce spoke in his
quiet way to Louise.  "I'm planning to visit my father this afternoon,
so I'll drive hallie back to the island."

I suspected that Louise was pleased with this arrangement. When we
walked out to our cars, she smiled at me.  "We will count on you for
dinner tomorrow night, hallie."

I agreed and we parted quickly.  I had the feeling that Richard would
have liked some words alone with me, but he followed Louise's lead.
Since he had walked to the restaurant from his office, she would give
him a lift back.

Once in Ryce's car, I tried to settle down.  Our time in the restaurant
had been disquieting, and it was a relief to be with Susan's father and
away from the other two.

Ryce wasn't given to idle chatter, so we drove in silence toward
Hempstead and the island.  This left me alone with my own thoughts,
something I didn't much care for, because the moment my thoughts weren't
otherwise occupied, they turned too readily to Paul.  Now I wondered if
it was ever possible for the male of our species to be true to one woman
for a lifetime. I'd never questioned this before-I'd believed completely
in Paul's integrity and his love for me.  Now I could see how gullible
I'd been.

Ryce startled me by interrupting this unhappy reverie, and I realized
that time and miles had slipped away.  "The swing bridge is open, so
we'll have to wait to go across.  It shouldn't be long."

We were several cars back in the line, so I couldn't watch the operation
of the bridge.  For the first time since we'd left Wilmington, Ryce
seemed ready to talk.

"You asked a question when we were at Elijah'S " he said.

"My father is obsessed with this belief in Susan's murder, but I don't
think you should listen to him.  What you have for him are your memories
of Susan, and I think you should COMFORT HIM AND AVOID ANYTHING or
whatever you can that will feels like sleuthing."

This didn't satisfy me.  "What I asked was whether you believed that
Susan was murdered."

The gray look seemed to descend like a fog that wiped out all
expression.  "That is a dangerous question to ask."

"What do you mean?"

"What if it's true?  What if a killer walks among us?  What if someone
is waiting to see how close to the truth you get?"

I had no answer for that.  Before he could go on, a man in a car behind
us recognized him and got out to come over to the driver's side of
Ryce's car.

"Hi, Ryce.  Have you heard about the find on the beach?" he asked.  "It
sounds important, so my paper's sending me over.  No one's sure what it
is, but the thing came ashore in Surf City on the oceanside."

The car ahead of us started to move, and the man-obviously a
reporter-dashed back to his own car, leaving us to wonder what he was
talking about.

"I'd better find out what's happening," Ryce said as we drove across the
bridge.  "Shall I take you back to the captain's first, or do you want
to come with me?"

I went with him, and when he'd parked the car on the oceanside, we
climbed steps that led over the dunes.  There was no gazebo here.  The
far steps dropped directly to the beach, and we could look down on the
small group of people who had gathered there.  Their attention seemed to
be held by a long metal object that lay on the sand.

Ryce made a stifled exclamation as we started down the steps.

can see Fergus Cameron down there," Ryce said as we headed down.  "Have
you met him yet, hallie?"

"I've met his wife and daughter, but not Mr.  Cameron." I decided to
repeat Dulcinea's remark and watch for Ryce's reaction.  "Dulcinea told
me that the families don't speak to each other anymore."

"Dulcie playacts.  It's true that the relationship between my father and
Fergus has cooled over the years, but that doesn't affect the rest of
us.  Though I can't say that Susan and Carlina liked each other much."

We started across the sand, and I could see the long, very large metal
object more clearly.  A tall, thin man was examining it, and as we
approached he straightened, recognizing Ryce.  His long face matched his
body, and both showed prominent bones. He held himself in a still,
nervous way that barely concealed his excitement.

"You'd better let Nick know about this, Ryce:' he said ,Is soon as we
were close.

Ryce touched my arm.  "hallie, this is Fergus Cameron.  He was here with
the captain when the rockets were being launched.  Fergus, hallie
Knight, a friend of my daughter when they went to college together."

Cameron nodded absently in my direction, his attention held by the
object in the sand.

"It could be a booster for a rocket launched from Operation Bumblebee,"
he told Ryce.  "Whatever it is, it's the first piece from a rocket
launching that's ever washed up on Topsail." He looked around at the
small gathering of curious islanders.  "Has anybody notified the
sherift-?  This is a valuable artifact and it needs to be preserved in
water."

The reporter who had spoken to Ryce earlier said that the sheriff was on
his way.

"Then I'd better get the news to my father," Ryce said.  FERGUS WILL

you let us know when ITS been IDENTIFIED for sure?"

"I'll do that," Fergus Cameron said, waving a hand as Royce and I
started up the beach.

As we climbed the steps over the dunes, I asked Ryce, "What was the
falling-out between the captain and Mr.  Cameron about?" It had already
been hinted at, but I wanted to know what Ryce would say.

He shrugged.  "Who really knows?  Though I expect that Carlina was the
focus, or so gossip has it.  It all happened years before Dulcie was
born.  Carlina's settled down by this time. When Fergus and my father
first knew her, she was a trapeze artist in a traveling circus.  From
all accounts she must have been pretty stunning.  Everybody thought her
an unlikely wife for Fergus, but I guess he fell pretty hard."

We had reached the platform at the top of the steps, and Ryce was
silent, stopping for a moment to look out again over the beach.

" There's more to the story, isn't there?" I said.

Ryce shrugged.  "It's all ancient history.  I guess my father was
chasing her, too, even though he had a wife of his own."

"Your father was married to your mother at the time?"

"That's probably why Carlina turned to Fergus, who was unencumbered. She
wanted to get out of the circus, and this was a way.  Dulcie came along
late in their marriage."

"Is Carlina why your mother left the captain?"

He didn't seem to mind telling me.  "Not really.  There was always some
woman Dad had an eye for.  Carlina wasn't anything new.  Though maybe
she was the last straw." He looked at me and seemed to see something in-
ny face he didn't like.  "Stay out of it, hallie.  I'm warning you.
Don't go stirring up sleeping dogs.  Come along and we'll go tell my
father about this find. He's going to be pretty excited."

I made no promises, and when we reached the house I went with Ryce to
the room where Nicholas Trench sat in his wheelchair.  There was no warm
greeting between father and son, and neither man seemed to expect one.
But when he reported what had washed up on the beach, the captain
brightened with the same excitement that had touched Fergus Cameron.

"Fergus would get there first," he grumbled.  "You've got to take me
down to the beach, Ryce.  Right now!"

Ryce regarded him calmly.  "You know that's not possible. We couldn't
get you over the steps across the dunes, and a wheelchair won't move on
sand."

The captain looked at me.  "Get Corey for me, Hanie.  I'll send him down
to the beach to talk to Fergus."

I walked out of the room, to find Mrs.  Orion waiting in the hallway,
and she nodded to me.  "I'D take care of it."

I went back to the room they'd given me-Anne Trench's room.  Her
paintings were still there, but someone, probably Corey, had taken them
down and placed them against the wall, along one baseboard, facing
inward.  At least I didn't have to look at them anymore; I could live
with their backs.

When I'd changed from my dress into jeans and a shirt, I took out the
small treasures from the sea that Corey had given me that morning and
put the shark's tooth and cockleshell on top of a bookcase near the
windows.  They shared the space with three books about gemstones that
were set upright between the 'lltting wall and a large black rock that
had been used as a bookend.  The rock seemed an ugly thing, but when I
turned it around I saw with delight that it was a geode.  I had always
been fascinated by this phenomenon of nature.  A black chunk of rock,
dug out of the earth in certain places, might hold a hollow filled with
glistening gemstones.  This piece had been sliced open on two sides. The
strata of colors, ranging from yellowish white to pale lavender, burst
at its heart into an amethyst cluster that caught a purple light in its
many facets.

Dulcie's young voice suddenly spoke close by, startling me. Apparently
she had the run of the captain's house-with or without anyone's
permission.

"That strong color only comes when stones are dug out from deep in the
earth.  When they lie near the surface, the color isn't nearly as
strong."

She stood in the doorway watching me, her red hair windblown, her green
eyes bright.

"It makes a good bookend," I said.

She came into the room.  "It's okay, I guess.  But you better not keep
it too close to your bed at night."

"Why is that?"

"Amethyst makes you dream.  Susan told me that.  And it's written in
those books besides." She pointed to the volumes on the bookshelf.

"Have you ever slept with an amethyst geode by your bed?"

Her wide eyes seemed to catch a gem fire of their own before she turned
away.  "I wouldn't take it out of Susan's room" she said so primly that
I wondered if she had.

"Did Susan say what kind of dreams amethyst causes?" I asked.

She answered without turning.  "She said they could be deep dreams and
very clear.  But they might be dreams she didn't want.  Sometimes they
scared her." Dulcie turned around.  "She said if you looked into a true
amethyst for too long, you could be hypnotized."

Of course, this might be true if one stared long enough at any bright
object.  "Have you tried that?" I asked.

Dulcie brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and nodded. "I did once,
but it was too scary.  Everything went dark and swirly, and I could hear
Susan's voice."

She threw me a frightened look and then started for the door.just as she
reached it, she turned and looked at me again. "You could ask that
person her father married.  She knows. Susan goes to see her sometimes
because she lives in an old house where spirits like to go." Dulcie
smiled slightly as though pleased with her own fantasy.  "I think she
scares Louise."

She whirled about and ran off, leaving me with the feeling that in spite
of her tendency to exaggerate and fantasize, Dulcie knew more than she
was telling.

I turned back to the bookcase.  Perhaps the books on the shelf below the
geode would tell me more about Susan's interests than she ever had.  I
pulled over the desk chair and sat down to study the tides.  They
revealed nothing that I didn't already know.  We'd always shared a
liking for mystery novels, and I saw that Susan had continued to read
them.  I recognized old favorites-Dorothy Sayers, Agatha Christie,
Dashiell Hammett.

I turned my attention to the geode, with its heart of glittering purple
treasure.  Without realizing what I was doing, I stared into points of
dark violet that lit the heart of the stone.  Suddenly, opening ahead of
me, awash in that glowing amethyst light, a tunnel without end seemed to
stretch far into the infinite.  As I continued to stare, literally
spellbound, a human figure appeared at the distant end, bathed in violet
light-whether it was a man or woman, I couldn't tell.  The figure, in a
long gown, stood very still as though it watched me from a great
distance.

I spoke a name aloud softly: "Susan?"

In an instant the vision was gone and I seemed to hear a faint whisper
of faraway thunder.  There was no storm outside, and the violet facets
of stone continued to sparkle in their own eerie light.  From somewhere
a memory came to me.  Geodes were often called thunder eggs.

I felt dizzy, and I shook myself hard.  I didn't like what had just
happened to me.  Mystic amethyst visions were not a part of my
existence.  And they were certainly not what Nicholas Trench wanted of
me.

Dulcie had left my door open, and when Mrs.  Orion looked in, I turned
from the geode in relief

"The captain would like to see you," she said.  Her clipped words told
me that she still didn't approve of my presence.  During the worst of
his illness she had undoubtedly been able to protect him from outsiders
whom she considered disturbing. But since I had arrived, he'd grown
stronger and found enough energy to ignore her.  I wished I could find a
way to placate her.

She strode off and I followed, glad, for the moment, to be away from a
room that had too many unsettling elements.

Ryce was gone when I walked in, but Fergus Cameron w;is there, talking
to the captain.  The two men appeared to be engaged in lively
reminiscences, and there was no evidence of the animosity that I'd been
told existed between them.  Fergus's presence had apparently given the
captain a further lift, for there was color in his face and a new
brightness in his eyes.

The captain saw me first.  "Come in, come in, hallie.  I hoped you might
join us.  Fergus has been telling me what's turned up on the beach.  He
and I are going to work together to see that it's properly preserved."

"Is it really one of those rocket boosters that was set off when you
were working on Operation Bumblebee?" I asked.

Fergus shook his head.  "I don't think so.  There are markings on it
that indicate that it was an earlier launching from another site.  But
now it belongs to Topsall-a gift from the sea."

The captain spoke dreamily.  "The building where the rockets were
assembled is still here, and thanks to our Historical Society and
others, it's been saved from use as a nightclub, or from being torn
down.  Cape Canaveral got all the glory, but we here on Topsail were an
important part of the beginning of space science.

Fergus looked at his watch.  "I must get along, Nick.  I want to see
about arranging a place where our find can be properly stored.  Maybe in
the Assembly Building.  It's too big for most places."

"Take hallie with you and give her a little history" the captain
suggested.  "You're the one who can tell her about the Assembly
Building."

"I would be delighted to have Mrs.  Knight along," Fergus offered, "If
you care to go."

I would rather have stayed with the captain, but it was out of my hands.
I went out with Fergus Cameron to his jeep and climbed in.  Once we were
on our way, an unexpected sense of anticipation filled me.  Operation
Bumblebee was long in the past, yet I felt the tug of all that history
in the making.  Susan would have loved what was happening.  I watched
for the landmarks I was beginning to know, suddenly realizing that I
hadn't thought of Paul for hours.  That was a good sign.

we drove past the concrete towers, and Fergus Cameron told me more about
them.  "Photographic equipment and cameras were positioned in those
towers.  They were spaced at the precise intervals that would enable
them to track the missiles.  Launchings are more spectacular now, but
this was the start of what eventually put a man on the moon.

I could hear the pride in his voice.  He had been a very young man when
all this was happening, and the events on Topsall must have fired his
imagination.  Whatever life had dealt him since, he still remembered the
early days with an excitement the years hadn't dimmed.  As he went on, I
listened, liking him because of that young man who was very much in
evidence  after all these years.

"The towers were constructed rigidly, with concrete pilings sunk twenty
feet in the ground, so nothing could jar the cameras.

He explained that in the beginning all the tower windows had been
covered with plywood in order to protect the equipment inside.  "Some of
the plywood is still left, though most of the windows are bare and open
for winds to blow through."

No distance was great on Topsail, and a few miles south we took a right
turn onto a road that led directly to a wide, low building, with a roof
that sloped gently forward from a center ridgepole.  A porch ran across
part of the front of the building, and there were steps on each end
leading up to the door.

"At present they open the building to the public only by appointment"$
Fergus said, turning the jeep into a parking place. "On certain days
tours are conducted so that people know what they're seeing." As we got
out and walked toward the steps, he told me more about this historic
place.

"The rockets were made somewhere else and brought here to be assembled.
Then they were taken on dollies across to the OCEANSIde to the launching
pad.  That pad Is part of the basement of the jolly Roger motel now. The
walls of this main building are reinforced, and copper grounding and
lightning rods are built into every corner.  We were so afraid of a
fire, because of the explosive nature of the propulsion materials, that
we did everything we could to protect it.  Some pretty big storms blow
over the island, and a lightning strike would have been disastrous. Only
one tower has been lost to the sea.  all the others have withstood a
great many storms, and so has this building.  There's been only a little
damage to the roof now and then."

As we went up the steps of the porch, music drifted out to us-a dreamy,
minor-key tune from the past.  "Song of India." It was unexpected and
seemed out of place, but Fergus only smiled.

"I can guess who's In there," he said as he opened the unlocked door. We
stepped inside and he put a hand on my arm, warning me to be quiet. The
vast room was as brightly lighted as a stage, and what I saw seemed so
strange that I felt an eerie prickling at the back of my neck.

The room that had once been used for the assembling of rockets was so
enormous that it took up most of the wide building.  The floor was
concrete and constructed to hold the great weight of the rockets. Dozens
of droplights hung from the high ceiling and all had been turned on.  At
the back of the room was a decorated counter that must have been used as
a bar in some previous incarnation.

I took all of this in at a glance, any eyes held by the figure of a
woman who made a dramatic focus in the center of the floor. Carlina
Cameron held our attention as though she moved in a spotlight.  Loose
garments floated around her in multilayers of sapphire and yellow, with
flamelike slashes of scarlet seenngly setting her afire as her supple
body moved.  Her long black hair, hanging loose down her back, stirred
as though with a life of its own, lifting and hovering about her
shoulders as she drifted in slow motion.  Her expressive arms reached
out before her as though she were moving in a sensuous dream.  She
seemed totally unaware of the room around her; unaware of us.

I looked at the man beside me and saw that he was completely entranced.
Carlina wasn't dancing, exactlyjust moving dreamily to the exotic music.
One of her slow turns brought her directly opposite us, and she stopped
abruptly, jarred from her dreamg.  For an instant a flash of
something-uncertainty, perhaps-crossed her face.  Then it was gone, and
she ran to ward her husband, smiling.  The music moaned to a stop as the
tape ended.

I had never seen Carlina smile before, and her fun beauty dazzled me. If
she could look like this today, what must she have been like when she
was young?  Or was the spell of enchantment she cast more powerful in
her maturity?  The sight of her seemed to burn in an intense reflection
in Fergus's eyes.

Nevertheless, the moment of enchanted beauty was gone. She seemed almost
embarrassed as he bent to kiss her cheek.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He seemed to shake himself free of her spell before he unarmed her
matter-of-factly.  "There's been a find on the beach something from an
old rocket launching.  I wanted to se if it can be safely stored
somewhere here.  Nick suggested I bring Mrs.  Knight along to see the
building."

"You've seen Nick?" Her surprise was clear.

"It's a long story," he said.  "I'll tell you later."

Carlina was no less enchanting when seen close up.  This is what
charisma must be, I thought.  She belonged in the center of a stage, and
I wondered why she had given it up.

She turned to look at me with her luminous green eyes. "How are you
enjoying Topsail Island, Mrs.  Knight?" I said I'd found it fascinating,
and she smiled her approval. Nevertheless, I sensed a
self-consciousness, as though our having discovered her dancing troubled
her.

"What are you up to?" Fergus asked.

"I was just thinking-imagining.  It always helps me to visualize as I
move." She looked at me.  "We're using the Assembly Building as a
community center now, and the school Dulcie attends has asked me to help
them put on a pageant here to celebrate spring."

As she went on discussing her ideas with Fergus, I found myself
wondering about the rivals he and Nicholas Trench must have been.  And I
wondered about the captain's wife, Anne, who had suffered because of
other women.  Unfortunately, I knew what that was like.

While Fergus moved about, considering places where the metal object from
the sea could be placed, Carlina and I trailed after him, and she began
telling me how effective Susan had been when they were raising money to
save the building.

"When she put her heart into something, Susan could accomplish wonders.
We all miss her."

I snatched at the opening.  "What do people on the island think about
Susan's disappearance?  There must have been a lot of talk-theories?"

She nodded vigorously, her black hair rippling over her shoulders like
silk.  "There are all sorts of theories, but not one of them has led
anywhere."

I looked at Fergus.  "Do you have a theory?"

He seemed to hold himself stiffly as we spoke of Susan.  "She belonged
to a generation I don't understand.  She could do wonderful things when
she wanted to-she certainly loved her grandfather-but I never thought
she treated her father %,ery well."

I could believe that of the Susan I'd known, but his answer had no
relevance to what had happened to an attractive young woman who had
disappeared one night without a trace.

"Let me show you another mystery," Carlina said.  "Something less
disturbing."

She ran across the wide floor to the nearest wall, her floating garments
once again showing glints of flame under the sapphire and yellow.  A
broom leaned against a wooden panel, and she brought it back to us, her
every movement graceful and arresting.  She must have been a marvel on
the trapeze.

Fergus smiled again, watching her.

"Dulcie is lucky to have a mother who understands about magic" I said,
as enchanted by this interesting woman as he was.

"Listen!" Carlina commanded, and thumped the end of the broom on the
floor.  The sounds were loud, but without resonance.  She moved here and
there, still thumping, until she neared the door.  Suddenly the floor
gave off a hollow, echoing sound.

"Do you hear that?" she cried, her layered garments fluttering with
rekindled excitement.  "There's emptiness down there. I can even trace
the shape of the space.  It must be a room though there's no door into
it.  What do you suppose it is?"

"Now, now you're building something from nothing," Fergus said.  "The
rockets used to be lowered to ground level, before they were rolled to
the launching pad.  There's been no use for that space, so I suppose
someone who was using the building blocked it off.  It hasn't any
meaning." He turned to me, smiling. "Carlina would like to make a
mystery out of it with her thumping broom."

Carlina's excitement subsided under her husband's teasing.  "I need to
get back to the school," she said.  "I'm glad you dropped in, Mrs.
Knight."

"I'm glad I came, too.  This is a fascinating place."

When we went outside, I noticed that the span had dissipated with the
magic.  Fergus walked me to his jeep and saw me into the front seat.
Then he walked with his WIfe to her car and HE stood talking to her for
a few moments before he came back to

" I said as he got into the jeep beside me.  "No wonder she's so
colorful and interesting."

He put the jeep into gear.  "I'd think twice about anything Corey tells
you.  He has a great imagination.  He and Susan made quite a pair, and I
can tell you, they both enjoyed creating disrupting escapades."

We followed the road where it ran along a stretch of maritime forest and
I looked out into the tangle of trees.

"Do you mean that Carlina was never in a circus?"

"No, actually, in that case he told the truth.  But he probably
elaborated on the story.  Even though Carlina was good on the high
trapeze, she never liked circus life.  Her mother and father were both
performers, but she grew up wanting something else. She wanted what she
has now."

It seemed to me he was protesting a bit too much, and I thought about
what Corey had also told me-that Nicholas Trench had been in love with
her, too.  And Nicholas must have been a dashing figure in his day.

"How did you meet Carlina?" I ventured.

The jeep had been running smoothly, but a spurt of gas fed too suddenly
made it jump ahead.  So my question had caused a reaction.

"As it happened, it was Nick who introduced me to her."

But Fergus had won out.  Because Nicholas already had a wife?  Poor
Anne, I thought, with a rival like Carlina.

"I understand that you and the captain worked together on Topsail when
Bumblebee was begun."

"Yes.  We became close friends, even though he ranked as a captain in
the navy and I was only an enlisted man.  What he WANted to accomplish
and my scientific talents brought us together.  The news I had for him
today about what was found on the beach took us back to a time when we
worked as a team."

The way Fergus's big hands grasped the wheel told me he'd had enough
questioning from me.  I was silent until we reached the two houses near
the sound.  I thanked him for showing me the Assembly Building and got
out of the jeep.

When I ran upstairs I found the door to my room open, though I had left
it closed.  I walked in to find that Corey Orion had placed the desk
chair in the middle of the floor and was sitting astride it, leaning his
arms on its back as he studied a painting of Anne's that he'd turned
face out from the baseboard.

I let his intrusion into my room pass without comment and went to stand
behind him.

"What do you see?" I asked.

Corey glanced at me, unsmiling.  "Of all the work she left behind, this
one of Anne's has always interested me most.  What do you make of it,
hallie?"

I studied the painting.  It was an acrylic, but not one of those in
which she'd vividly re-created her anger.  Nevertheless, it conveyed
strong emotion.  A long, narrow space seemed to tunnel deep into
infinity.  I was reminded of the tunnel I'd seen in MY amethyst
vision-though this tunnel seemed more menacing.  Looking at the beiges
and browns she'd used was like looking down a tube-into what?  At the
far end-if there was an end-a watery light glimmered and swirled, as
though in a vortex.  As I stared into this illusion of depth that was
really only a flat surface of canvas, a dim figure seemed to emerge-like
the hazy figure in my dream.  I sensed the artist's feelings that had
created the painting.  The emotions were a blend of sadness and
depression-and perhaps fear.

"She called it Corridor," Corey said.  "It really grips you, doesn't it?
It conveys something frightening that gets away before I can grasp it."

"It's no more a happy painting than the others," I said.  "But the
feeling in it is different.  It's as though she was giving up."

He shook his head.  "She wasn't like that.  She didn't give up. That
vortex at the heart of the painting seems to promise darkness, oblivion.
Not the bright, spiritual light that's supposed to come with, say, a
near-death experience."

I shivered and he looked at me again.  "There's something TERRIBLY
unhappy about It.  Maybe even prophetic."

"Prophetic of what?"

He stood up, went over to the painting, and once again turned it to face
the wall.  Somehow he looked more uncertain than I'd ever seen him.

"Who are you, Corey Orion?" I asked.

That must have startled him, for he gave me half a grin from just one
corner of his mouth.  That mouth that had been made for kissing.  "What
do you mean, who am I?"

"Maybe I mean what are you?  Every time I see you, you're different.
Sometimes you seem as young as a teenager.  Other times you're older and
serious-and strange.  I keep wondering what you're thinking about behind
whatever face you have on at the moment."

He laughed out loud, mocking me.  "Haven't you found me out yet?  I'm
not real.  I'm a painter's trompe l'oeil-a trick of the eye." He made me
a courtier's bow, with a full hand gesture and outstretched
leg-theatrical and totally out of character.

I wondered impatiently if he knew who he was.  Why was it necessary for
him to put on these faces, play these games?

When he spoke again his tone had changed and he sounded gentle and
apologetic.  "Don't mind me, hallie.  Let me make it up to you for all
my nonsense.  I'd like to take you for a boat ride in the morning.  You
might as well have some fun while you're here."

Nothing much escaped Corey.  I couldn't have been more surprised by this
invitation, and he seemed to be serious about wanting to take me.  But I
still needed to solve the puzzle he presented.  I had a feeling he had
known Susan better than anyone else and, if he wanted to, could tell me
things about her life in North Carolina that might lead me in the right
direction.

all right" I agreed.  "I'd enjoy going out in your boat.  What time do
you want me ready?"

"Early.  Say eight o'clock down on the dock.  Don't eat breakfast.  I
promise we won't go hungry.  Okay?"

"I'll be ready," I said.  He went off quickly, as though I might change
my mind, and I wondered why this seemed so important to him.

As the door closed behind him, I realized that Corey had taken with him
something almost electric that seemed to touch the air around him.  The
room was suddenly quiet, and the vision of Anne Trench's depressing
paintings was sharp in my mind.  I knew how she had felt.  Angry and sad
and helpless.  The pain struck again, and was worse than anger.  How was
I to get through this?  What did other women do to stop the hurting?

Anne Trench had painted, but there was no such outlet for me. At least
the boat trip with Corey tomorrow morning would be a distraction. Though
I wondered what he was really up to. Nothing about Corey was simple and
obvious.

I reminded myself that it was time to report to the captain and tell him
about my trip with Fergus Cameron to the Assembly Building.  Perhaps I
would even tell him what had happened with Carlina.  How did he feel
about her now?  The question was one of idle curiosity.  I didn't want
to hurt him, but there was so much he hadn't told me.  How much of Susan
lay deep in what he really felt that had made him bring me here?

The captain was not in his room, nor was he out on the deck.  When I
walked to the rail and looked over, I saw that Mrs.  Orion had wheeled
him onto the long dock that stretched into the water below the house.
How she'd gotten him there I had no idea.  I hurried down a flight of
outside steps and found that a gradual and well-laid path of wooden
planks wound from house to dock, so that wheeling his chair would have
been simple enough, once it was at the lower level.

I walked along the dock toward them, and Mrs.  Orion turned to shake her
head despairingly.  "He would want to come OUTSIde, though I didn't
think It was a good Idea."

"How did you manage to get his chair down here?"

She waved a hand toward the house.  "There's an elevator in'SIde.  The
captain had It installed when his legs began to give out."

He looked over his shoulder as she spoke, and gestured me toward a bench
that had been placed near the end of the dock. When I sat down, he spoke
to me with new life in his voice.

"You saw the Assembly Building, hallie?  I haven't been out there for
years.  How did it look?"

"I don't know how it's supposed to look, but it seemed clean and well
kept.  Empty." I paused.  "Except for Mrs.  Cameron.  She was there."

Sitting on the bench, with the dock railing behind me, I was on eye
level with the captain.  I saw him flinch at Carlina's name and then
widen his eyes to stare at me.

"What was she doing there?"

"She was moving about-a sort of dancing.  She said she'd come there to
think about a pageant she's helping Dulcie's school to put on at the
Assembly Building."

"I suppose Fergus is still besotted after all these years." There was
scorn in his voice.

I preferred the word enchanted, but I didn't say so.  "I wouldn't know,"
I answered carefully.

A sadness touched his eyes, and he closed them, perhaps to hide whatever
he might be feeling.  "Fergus and I both came to regret building houses
that forced us to live so close together. Of course, he wasn't married
to Carlina when he built his house.  He brought her here later."

That would have been hard for everyone, I thought-including Anne Trench,
with whom my sympathies lay.

"Perhaps you'll be friends again, now that he's come to see you" I
suggested.

The captain scowled at me.  "I wouldn't have taken you for the
sentimental type, hallie.  Go on back to the house if you're going to
talk nonsense.  Fergus and I will never forgive each other for
anything."

I stayed where I was and said nothing.  I was sorry about his
bitterness, but perhaps he had received his own due punishment for his
treatment of his wife.

Out on the water a large white cruiser was gliding smoothly past, though
the rolling waves left in its wake were far-reaching and anything but
smooth.  There was almost a violence in the way they pounded the pilings
clear under the dock.  I felt sorry for any small boat caught in those
swells.  Someone on the deck waved, and I waved back.  The sound was
part of the Intracoastal Waterway, which ran behind the barrier islands
and offered passage to boats traveling up and down the coast.

The captain watched the cruiser as It made Its way south.  HIS scowl was
gone, so perhaps he regretted his sharp words.  I let them hang in the
air without response, and studied the near shore below the house.

A narrow dirt road followed the edge of the sound, and bushes rose along
the shore, growing out of water that changed the levels of the tides.
Back a I the way and on a slight elevation the captain's house stood out
among surrounding trees. Behind it, almost hidden by twisted growth, the
Cameron house was barely in view.  They were indeed close neighbors to
have kept up a feud all these years.

"I don't think I'm especially sentimental," I said finally.  "But it
seemed to me that Mr.  Cameron was glad to have a reason to break the
ice between you."

"He didn't even crack it," the captain said.  "What did he say to you?"

"He told me how the Assembly Building was used in the beginning.  I'nd
glad all that history is being preserved."

"When we were living it, we didn't think of it as being history.  I
suppose that's true of every generation, and it's why things get lost."

"Carlina also told me that Susan had been active in raising money to
help the Historical Society."

The captain looked sad, as he always did when Susan's name came up. "She
was in her own room in my house when she disappeared.  That's one reason
why I never swallowed the police theory that she'd gone off somewhere on
her own.  Have you been thinking about what happened to her, hallie?"

"There's nothing to take hold of.  I can't see a direction of any kind.
I'm sorry, but there doesn't seem to be any way I can help.  I shouldn't
stay any longer."

"You haven't even got your feet wet.  You can't give up so soon!"

I had a feeling that I was floating in space-undecided about what to do
with my own life and unable to help the captain.  I couldn't think
clearly about anything.

He was watching me.  "You're pretty mad at your husband, aren't you?"

He'd almost read my thoughts.  "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Women!" he said scornfully.  "They never understand the men they
marry."

I didn't want to understand if he meant that men had the privilege of
roaming because of their hormones.  I had hormones, too, but I'd always
directed that energy toward one man.

Mrs.  Orion had wandered back toward the house while the captain and I
talked, but now she turned and came toward us. "Do you think you could
manage the captain's wheelchair, Mrs. Knight?  I need to get back to
fixing supper.  Unless you want to go in now, captain?"

He didn't, and I told her I would manage.

She went off, and the moment she was out of hearing, the captain reached
out to take my hand.  It was an affectionate gesture that surprised me.

"I didn't bring you to Topsail to accomplish the impossible, hallie.
I've been sizing you up, and Susan was right about you. As I told you in
my letter, you're to be included in my will."

When I started to shake my head, he stopped me.  "Don't say
anything-just listen.  When she was away at school, Susan wrote me
letters.  She talked about you often-about her gratitude to you, her
affection.  She never made friends easily, any more than I did.  We were
both loners.  So it was special when you became her friend.  You pulled
her out of serious trouble more than once, and you gave her good
advice."

"I'm afraid she didn't always listen."

"She listened to you more than she did to me.  I'm grateful for the
friendship you gave her when she most needed it."

"She was like a younger sister.  I never had much family, so Susan gave
me something, too.  She needed me.  I'm sorry that we drifted apart
during those last few years before she disappeared.  I suppose we each
had our own lives and-"

He broke in with that growl in his voice again.  "She could have had a
good life of her own if she hadn't fallen in love with the wrong man."

I knew nothing about this, and I waited.  I'd never cared much for any
of the men Susan dated.  And I'd never thought she did either.

He didn't follow up on who the man was, and it didn't matter.Richard
Merr'ck knows what I want, and he's making changes now.

it happen, though he's not happy about it.  Not that how he feels
matters in this case.  Before Susan disappeared, most of my money was
going to her.  In my present will everything is being left to my son.
But I've been put off with Ryce ever since he married Louise.  I won't
cut him out now, but he'll only get a bequest.  And there are other
bequests.  The rest of it will go to you.

I couldn't grasp what he was saying.  Money wasn't high on my listof
what was important in life.  I needed enough to take care of
myself-especially now.  But I had always managed before Paul, and I
would manage now, even though it would mean looking for a new job so I
wouldn't be working in the same office with my estranged husband.  To
become suddenly wealthy and acquire all the responsibilities connected
with money didn't appeal to me.

"How can I make you see that I don't want this?" I said.

"You can't.  My mind is made up.  At first I planned to make certain
conditions that you would have to decide about, but now that I've met
you, I'm waiving those.  I've known you for only two days, but I already
wish that Susan could have been more like you.  This is the only way I
can show my gratitude to you and give my money-Susan's money-to someone
she would have wanted to have it." She'd have hated to see it in
Louise's hands through any inheritance to Ryce.

I was overwhelmed by his generosity, but at the same time there was
something in his eyes that I didn't like.  I couldn't help wondering if
gratitude and Susan's possible desires were the only reasons behind this
action.  Perhaps more than anything else, this was his own slap at Ryce
and Louise.

"I'll talk to Mr.  Merrick," I said.  "I'll find out how I can refuse
this."

He smiled at me benignly, perhaps not really believing.

"What you're willing me is enemies," I said.

"You'll deal with them."

He was beginning to make me angry.  "Did Susan have enemies?  Did she
deal with them?"

He looked suddenly stricken, but before anything more could be said, a
loud clanging reached me from the deck of the house.  Mrs.  Orion was
ringing the captain's brass bell.  He waved a hand in response and
looked at me.

"If we don't start out for the house right away, Mrs.  O will be down
here in a flash.  Can you manage my chair?"

I released the wheel brakes and turned him about.  The chair rolled
easily from the dock to the plank walk, and he directed me to where the
elevator was located on the lower storage floor.  After going up to the
deck level with a little wheezing and jerking on the part of the
machinery, I wheeled the chair out to where Corey
and-surprisingly-Dulcie were sitting at the outdoor table.  I left the
captain at the deck's railing where he could watch the boats on the
sound and went to help Mrs. Orion.  Corey came with me, and so did
Dulcie.

"We have a guest" Corey told me, grinning.

"I invited myself," Dulcie announced cheerfully.  "Dad and Mom are
having a big row and I hate that.  I don't know what they're fighting
about this time, but I don't want to be there until it's over.  Mrs. O
said I could stay for supper."

I could imagine that both Fergus and Carhna had tempers, but he had
seemed so adoring as he watched her dance.  Where had the trouble come
from?

We helped Mrs.  Orion carry food to the table, and she wheeled the
captain to its head.  Corey set down the centerpiece-a great bowl of
potato salad, made with hard-boiled eggs and homemade mayonnaise.
Assorted cheeses and rye bread filled out the supper, and we sat down to
eat with smiles on our faces.

The meal was cheerful until Corey spoiled our mood.  His attention had
been caught by Dulcie's words about her parents' fight, and he began to
ask questions, even though his mother frowned at him.

The captain and Dulcie were clearly old friends, so I realized that
Dulcie's remark about their families not speaking had been a momentary
fantasy.

"Let it go, my boy" the captain said, putting a halt to Corey's
curiosity about the quarrel between Fergus and his wife.

Dulcie, freed from Corey's questions, began talking excitedly about the
school pageant and her mother's plans.

"She's making me a costume out of some of her old circus things, so
there'll be spangles and everything!  I'm going to be a bareback rider."

"What will you do for a horse?" Corey asked.

When he talked to Dulcie, he could be at his most appealing. This was
the aspect of his character that I liked best.Who would he be, I
wondered, when we went on his boat trip in the morning.  At least Corey
Orion was never dull.

"Mom is having a horse made for me in Wilmington-out of paper-mache, but
over a form that will be strong enough to hold me.  There'll be a saddle
like a little platform that I can stand on and do some easy dance steps.
The horse can't move on its own, but she thinks maybe he can be pulled
along."

Thanks mostly to Dulcie, supper was a lively meal.  Mrs.  Orion seemed
pleased with the captain's progress, and was even willing to give me a
bit of credit.  Not until we were finishing our meal with Dulcie's
favorite pecan ice cream did a long silence fau upon us.  The sun had
set in the western sky and a big moon was rising out of the water.  A
lighted cruiser came into view and music drifted toward us.  Even Dulcie
was quiet, watching.  A salmon pink glow stained the water, and I was
suddenly aware of the great continent that stretched between me and
California. Where was Paul now?  Did he know that I'd left our
apartment?

Would he even care or wonder about me?  This was self-pity, and I tried
to rouse myself from the indulgence.  Whatever happened, I would find a
way to deal with it.  Other women went through this and I would recover.
Of course I would.

Music continued drifting up to our high deck from the cruiser-a recorded
voice singing the "Habanera" from Carmen.  Dulcie listened eagerly.

"My mother loves that song!" she cried.

Carlina would, I thought.  Corey had called her a gypsy, and the word
seemed to fit.

Then, suddenly, Dulcie was crying.  She made no effort to wipe away her
tears, but cried openly like a small child.

Corey put a hand on her arm.  "What's the matter, kid?"

"I-I don't want to go home tonight!"

The captain had wheeled himself to the rail to watch the sky and the
passing boat, but now he turned back to the table.  "You don't have to
go home," he said.

Unflappable Mrs.  Orion took charge.  "If it's all right with your
mother, Dulcid, you can stay here for the night-the way you used to
sometimes.  Tomorrow's Saturday and you can sleep late.  I'll phone your
mother and ask her if you can stay with us."

The captain's focus was on Dulcie.  He returned to what she'd said
earlier.  "What is it?  What's happened with your parents?

For a moment she looked at him, hesitating.  Then she spoke in a low
voice.  "I don't want to be there when they're fighting. They scare me."

The captain was clearly troubled.  "Do they fight often?"

She shook her head.  "Mom thinks she's getting old and isn't pretty
anymore.  She told me so one time.  When she doesn't feel pretty, I
guess she doesn't act pretty.  Dad says she puts up a wall-and that
makes him mad." Dulcie turned to me, suddenly entreating.  "Can I stay
in your room tonight, hallie?  Susan used to let me sleep in her room.
Corey can bring in a cot-can't YOU, Corey?"

Sure" he said.

"I'd like that" I told her quickly.  I would be glad to have someone in
my room to draw me away from all those things I couldn't bear to think
about.  "Do you want to go home and get your overnight things first?"

Dulcie shook her head.  "They might make me stay." She looked at Mrs.
Orion.  "I used to wear one of her big T-shirts when Susan-" She broke
off, and I thought her tears would start again.

Mrs.  Orion nodded.  "I know just the thing for you to sleep in, and we
have a fresh toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.  I'n bring them to Mrs.
Knight's room."

"Well, that's settled, so you can come and help with the dishes,
Dulcie," Corey said cheerfully.

I offered to help, too, but Mrs.  Orion shook her head.  "We have enough
extra hands.  Stay with the captain."

He rejected that idea.  "I'll go to my room now.  Good night."

He stopped his chair as it moved away from me.  "I'm glad you're here,
hallie.  I'll see you in the morning."

"Corey is taking me for an early boat trip on the sound, but I'll look
for you as soon as I get back."

Dulcie, halfivay to the kitchen with her hands full of dishes, turned
around eagerly.  "Can I come, too, Corey?"

"Not this time, kid.  I'll take you soon.  Promise."

She accepted this with reasonable grace and hurried off with her plates.
The captain, however, had paused again.  "Where are you going, Corey?"

He answered airily, "Just down the sound.  If hallie likes birds, there
are a few to see."

"all right" the captain said.  "But don't keep her out too long.  We
have matters to discuss."

I suspected that he disliked any interference with his own plans for me,
but it was out of his hands.  I was glad to have an excuse to postpone
any more talk about his will.  As soon as 'possible I would see Richard
Merrick and ask him to convince the captain that I wanted nothing to do
with his money.

The captain wheeled himself off to his room and when the others had
gone, I stood for a few moments longer at the rail. A breeze stirred the
leaves of live oaks near the house and swept across the deck.  Darkness
was settling in and I could see stars coming out in pinpoints against
the sky.  The air had turned suddenly cool, and it was time to go in.
Another boat must have passed because waves slapped roughly at the
pilings of the dock.

Back in my room, I picked out one of Susan's books on gemstones and sat
down to read.  The index indicated that there were several pages on
amethysts.

Their color, the text said, could range from pale violet to the deep
purple valued by royalty to signify nobility of rank.  Bishops of the
Catholic Church still wore amethyst rings.  It was a stone whose powers
were considered to be spiritual, and it could give an intensity to
dreams if placed near one's head at night.  Amethysts had long been used
for healing, and it was a stone that granted healing power to the
wearer.  It could also affect the intellect and result in clearer
thinking.  Apparently amethysts were strongly connected with the life
force and could increase the intuition.  I closed the book.  Nothing
about the stone was alarming.

I reached for the heavy geode and held it on my knees, where I could
look into the purple peaks and facets at the heart of the stone.  I'd
left my door open and wasn't aware that Dulcie had come in until she
stood beside me, her solemn attention on the rock I held.

"I don't think you should get too close to that" she said.

I smiled at her.  "Why not?  I've just been reading about the wonderful
properties of the amethyst."

"Susan knew a lot about crystals and gemstones, and she told me that
amethysts have a dark side.  They stand for purity, but if someone with
bad wishes comes near the stone, the badness in the person could grow
and hurt other people."

I didn't know if this was one of Dulcie's fantasies, intended to alarm
me.  "I don't think we have to worry," I said.  "We aren't bad people,
are we?"

Her grave look troubled me-as though she wasn't sure how good we were. I
touched the sharp points where the purple cluster seemed about to burst
from the heart of the stone.  Deep in shadow, the royal color turned
almost black.  I moved the stone into the light, and a surprising streak
of flame seemed to flash out of the deep color, vanishing in a moment.

Dulcie saw it, too.  "Once Susan showed me the fire.  That's the stone's
secret.  It only lets you see it once in a while." She broke off,
studying me intently.  "Hanie, do you think it's bad to have a secret?"

"Maybe that depends on the secret.  On whether or not it would hurt
other people.  I suppose most of us hide some things we don't want
others to know.  But I don't think that's bad."

She looked relieved, and I wondered what secret young Dulcie was
keeping.

Corey arrived with the cot and set it up while he bantered back and
forth with Dulcie.  Mrs.  Orion followed with bedding and Dulcie's
sleep-over things.  While she was making up the cot, I returned the
geode to its place as a bookend.

"Your mother says it's fine for you to stay," Mrs.  Orion told Dulcie.

The girl looked relieved, as though she'd half suspected a summons to
return home at once.  "How did she sound?" she asked.

"Maybe a little excited.  But not upset or angry.  I expect everything
will be fine in the morning.  I'll bring you some hot chocolate before
you go to sleep."

"The way you used to do," Dulcie said, smiling.

When we were alone, she went to stand at the window, where she could
look down into the clearing.  The yard light was on, and so were lights
in the Cameron house.

Dulcie spoke softly.  "He loves her such a lot, but I think he's still
jealous because the captain knew her first."

"That was a long time ago," I said.  "Your parents do love each other. I
saw that today."

To draw her away from sad thoughts, I told her about the discovery on
the beach, and the way her father had come to see the captain.  She
seemed happy about that and wanted to know every detail.  When we'd
finished talking, she yawned and went into the bathroom to get into a
big old T-shirt of Corey's that Mrs.  Orion had found for her.

When she was ready for bed, she picked out a book from the bookcase and
settled down on the couch to read.  But there was a restlessness in her
tonight, and after a few moments of turning pages, she put the book
aside and went to one of Anne Trench's paintings that leaned against the
baseboard, facing the wall.  She turned the painting around, and I saw
that it was the one that had interested Corey-the long, dark tunnel.

"I wonder what she meant by that picture," I said.

Dulcie didn't hesitate.  "She was painting the Pirate's Pit."

"What's that?"

"It's a bad place, hallie.  You don't want to know."

She turned the picture around and then tucked herself under the blanket
on the cot and plumped up her pillow.

In a few moments Mrs.  Orion brought in a tray with two cups of hot
chocolate on which marshmallows floated.  Dulcie sat up and we sipped in
companionable silence.  Mrs.  Orion watched for a moment and then told
us good night and went away.

Later, after I'd put on a nightgown, I returned to hear Dulcie breathing
softly across the room.  Her presence had seemed comforting, but no
sooner did my head touch the pillow than the aching inside me began all
over again.  I'd rather be angry. Anger was better than hurt.  But now
it wouldn't come.  I seemed to be enveloped in a great sadness that was
quiet and very deep-not at all like the rage Anne Trench's brush had
brought to life in those slashes of wild color that were now hidden
against the wall.

When I got up the next morning, Dulcie was still asleep.  I dressed
quietly and went out on the deck.  Looking over the rail, I saw that
Corey was already on the dock waiting for me.  I ran down the outside
steps and across the planks to Join him.

Fog had drifted in over the dunes from the ocean, and wisps of it still
hid the water.  But the sun was up and the fog would soon burn away.
Corey helped me into the boat, and I sat down beside him.  He started
the outboard motor and I felt a thrill go through me as we planed and
began to skim over water that in no time was a shining blue in the sun.
In a few moments we were past the south end of the barrier island of
Topsall and I could look out to the open sea.  White-crested waves were
rolling-in from the Atlantic, and when Corey cut the motor and let us
drift for a few moments, I could hear the strong, repetitive voice of
the ocean.

The marshes were alive with birds-white egrets, graceful in the air;
herons moving on long, wobbly legs; scores of shorebirds hunting for
food.  We went on, skimming past ospreys already piling sticks for nests
where there was any sort of structure.

Plexiglas.  kept most of the spray from my face as the boat cut through
the water.  Still, I didn't mind a little wetness, and I felt
exhilarated as we flew across the sound just ahead of a cruiser that
would have rocked us with its wake.  This feeling of being alive was
something I hadn't experienced in a long while.  It was as though we
moved in another dimension where ordinary human problems couldn't touch
us.

Though sandbars changed constantly with rising and lowering ', Corey
knew his way, and 'n less than ten minutes he cut the boat's speed as he
moved in toward a small island.  Most of it was covered by wild growth,
but at one end, set high on a dune out of reach of water and shifting
sand, stood a single house.

"Where are we?" I shouted over the diminishing sound of the motor.

He shouted back.  "Cabbage Island-right on ahead."

The tiny island seemed to float low on the water, with that single
rising dune at one end.

Corey's mood this morning seemed to be one of barely suppressed
anticipation, which made me wonder again what he was up to.  He cut the
motor entirely as we neared the shore.

"Used to be a farm family lived out here," he told me.  "They sold their
cabbages to stores on the mainland, but that's all long gone.

The house was old and weathered-its gray-brown timbers had lasted a long
time.  The porch looked rickety and so did the steps that led up to it,
but smoke rose from the chimney, and a bright Mexican blanket had been
hung over the porch rail.

"Does someone really live here?" I asked.

"Just for now.  She only rents.  She likes the isolation, and I bring
her supplies and keep track of her.  She has a cellular phone, so she's
not out of touch."

I was curious about the house and the woman, but Corey was busy nosing
his boat into the low, sandy shore, and the house was lost from sight
behind a screening of live oak and scrubby pine.  He drove the bow into
the sand-and dropped an anchor in the water.  Then he threw a second
anchor over to catch high in the sand.  Whatever the tides did, the boat
would stay where he wanted it.

I got out on the narrow strip of beach and Corey quickly started ahead
of me up a path that ran through tall beach grasses and sea oats.

"Come along" he called back to me.  "She's waiting for us and she'll
give us breakfast."

The house loomed above as we climbed into the open, and now the roar of
the ocean could be heard again, the sound rising and subsiding
endlessly.  Corey reached back to catch my hand, pulling me up steps
that led to the weathered porch.

"I suppose she has a name?" I asked a bit tartly, annoyed with his
games, his way of keeping me in the dark.

"Yes," he said as we climbed the steps.  "She has a name.  It's Anne
Trench."

y reaction was mixed.  There was the shock of surprise, laced with
annoyance at Corey.  Yet underneath my surface response, excitement
stirred, mixed with both anticipation and uneasiness.

Corey looked irritatingly pleased with himself "She wanted to meet you,
but she didn't want me to let you know ahead of time.  Perhaps she
thought you might not come.  No one on Topsail knows that she's here,
and she wants to keep it that way for now."

We moved along the narrow porch and Corey rapped on the door.  "We're
here, Anne," he called out.  While we waited I could hear the deep
pulsing of the ocean.

The door creaked open, and Susan's grandmother stood in the wide
opening.  She was tall and slender, with silvery hair drawn into a mound
on top of her head.  Her skin seemed smooth, with surprisingly few
wrinkles.  Perhaps, with time, she had arrived at a state of serenity.
The eyes that watched us ' ' their color an odd tawny brown.  She wore a
wide  patchwork skirt over tweed trousers, and had on Mexican huaraches.
I thought she looked considerably younger than the captain, though older
than Carlina.  Her makeup was carefully restrained-only a touch of rose
petal on her lips, accented by the black slash of her eyebrows, where no
gray had been allowed to show.

The hand she held out to me was elegant, with long fingers that had
stayed flexible a workman's fingers, with no nail polish.  Her handclasp
was as warm as the smile that brought beauty to her face.  At once I
felt welcomed and set at ease.  Clearly, she had already captivated
Corey, who had relaxed into a natural, unmannered state that I'd yet to
see him in.

"Come in," she said, and drew us through the doorway into a room that
was as warm and welcoming as Anne Trench herself She might be living in
this ramshackle house for only a short time, but she had brought with
her a few possessions to make it hers.  Mexican rugs of primitive design
covered the cracked boards of the floor.  A decorative straw hat with a
wide brim hung on the wall, its band of yellow ribbon hanging down.  A
few pieces of furniture were heaped with cushions in clear, strong earth
colors.  The fireplace really worked, and a wood fire burned
energetically, sending sparks up the chimney whenever a piece of wood
fell in the grate.  I had grown cold out on the water, and the
fire-warmed room added to my feeling of comfort and ease.  Anne Trench's
presence was as magical as those paintings of hers that I had seen, but
far more tranquil and reassuring.

I looked around the walls for more of her work, but crumbling wallpaper
had not been hidden with the new paintings right brave expected.

She took my jacket and gestured us to a small table set before the fire.
Three mats in an Aztec design of green and white and brown marked our
places.  She served us papaya, delicious without being iced. Hotcakes
made from spelt flour had been kept *warm on a wood-burning stove, and
she went outside to draw a crock of butter from a pool near the end of
the porch.  Coffee had been brewed the old-fashioned way in a big
granite pot-a little bitter, but just right to take away my chill. We
drank it without cream or sugar.  Corey made toast by spearing slices of
bread on a long fork and holding them to the fire.  On a small table
behind us an oil lamp with a glass chimney added its own glow to the
firelight, brightening the room.  The air had been scented with some
herbal potpourri set in a bowl on the back of the stove.

Unexpectedly content and relaxed, I sat facing the fire, and as I
watched the flames, I felt enveloped by the spirit of the woman who had
created this mood.  She could have no idea how much I'd needed this,
just as I had no idea why I was here, or what she wanted of me.  I knew
only that it didn't matter.  She would tell me when she was ready.

When she asked about the captain, I told her what little I could, and
she sighed deeply.  "I'm sorry he is so ill." Then she straightened in
her chair to smile at me again.  "Susan told me so much about you,
hallie, that I feel that I know you.

"I don't understand why she never mentioned you," I said gently.  "She
only talked about her grandfather."

"That was what I asked of her.  I didn't want anyone else in the family
to know that she and I were seeing each other.  I didn't even want my
son to know.  Susan was the member of my family with whom I had the most
in common.  I was a rebel, too, when I was young, so we understood each
other, and the years between us didn't matter."

"You haven't stopped rebetting," Corey said approvingly.

"These days" she said, "I'm afraid it's a rather gentle rebellion."

There had been a time when she had suffered a terrible fury, and I
wanted to know about that.  How had she dealt with it?

How had she come to this time of tranquillity?

"Has Corey told you that they've put me in your old room at the
captain's house, Mrs.  Trench?" I asked.  "It's the room where Susan
stayed when she was home, and she filled one wall with your paintings."

"What paintings?  I took most of my work with me when I left."

"But not all," I said.  "These are abstracts that you must have painted
when you were terribly upset."

She looked at me blankly for a moment.  "Do you mean that violent
outpouring I created in only a few weeks, and then left behind because I
never wanted to see them again?  I knew Nick would find them-I wanted
him to find them-and throw them away."

"He tried, but Susan saved them all," Corey said.  "It was a way of
keeping, you with her."

"Not a very pleasant side of me.  I got rid of a lot of what I was
feeling in that miserable time by pouring it into those paintings.

"And you really got rid of it?" I asked.

Her tawny brown eyes seemed to sadden.  "No.  I'm afraid not.  But I was
able to stop being angry and to stop blaming either myself or others."

Again I wanted to know more, but I couldn't ask questions while Corey
was listening.

"There is one painting that made me curious I said.  "Corey told me you
called it Corridor.  Dulcie Cameron said it was the Pirate's Pit."

Corey was eating his second helping of hotcakes, but he set down his
fork as though he'd suddenly lost his appetite.

Anne Trench stared at me and the warmth went out of her face.  "Yes.  I
remember that painting.  It was one that had to be painted.  I always
thought of the pit as a corridor, and I tried to capture its mystery on
canvas."

"What is the Pirate's Pit?" I asked.

She put a dab of honey on her last bite of toast and settled back in her
chair.  "There are stories of hidden pirate gold all up and down the
East Coast, most of them false.  It wasn't gold those highwaymen of the
sea hoarded-they did a fine business in all the goods they captured from
sailing vessels-but the stories of gold buried on Topsail Island
persisted.  These stories appealed to two partners who moved onto the
island to dig in a large, curious hole they'd found.  They convinced
others that gold was there.  Investments were made in the project, and
serious digging began.  But in spite of digging to a great depth,
nothing in the way of treasure ever surfaced.  Then one night the two
took the money that island people had advanced and disappeared, leaving
nothing but a pit that seemed to have no bottom.  Over the years people
threw all sorts of things down there, large objects that simply
disappeared.  The sinkhole never idled up.  Anything that was dropped
into it vanished.  The idea of the hole fascinated me, so I painted my
own impression of it.  Not very successfully, I thought, so I left the
painting behind when I went away.  Susan must have rescued it with all
the others."

"I saw it for the first time today," I told her.  "It made me feel a
little dizzy, as though I were really looking into a long, deep tunnel
that led nowhere.  Yet you put a light at the end of itwhy?"

"I don't remember now.  I suppose it needed the light as a focus-to give
the painting emphasis and depth."

She raised her hands in dismissal.  "Perhaps I was getting a bit
metaphysical by that time.  It's all so long ago."

 "Where is this Pirate's Pit?"

Anne Trench looked startled.  "Why, it's right there on the property
behind the Trench and Cameron houses.  You haven't noticed it?"

"There's nothing to see," Corey said abruptly, and I wondered at his
tone.  Later perhaps I'd ask him to show me the pit. Though somehow I
didn't like the idea of that bottomless hole so close by.

I changed the subject to something more pleasant.  "Do you still paint?"
I asked Anne Trench.

"Do I still breathe?" She folded her napkin and stood up.  "If you're
through with your breakfast, perhaps you'd like to see what I'm doing
these days."

Corey and I followed her to where a curtain had been hung across a
doorway on the far side of the room.  She went to draw it aside so I
could step past her into a space that she had turned into a studio.
Several canvases were stacked against the wall, and an easel stood near
window light, with an unfinished beach scene that suggested Topsail.  A
bare wooden table held a jar of clein brushes, a palette with daubs of
color, rags that smelled of turpentine.  Again the walls were empty
except for one startling painting.

I went to stand before it.  A young woman in gypsy dress held a ribboned
tambourine over her head.  She danced with her graceful back to the
viewer, looking over one shoulder-a look both I'm'schievous and
inviting. Masses of dark hair lifted from her shoulders as she
moved-just as I had seen.  Her skirt blazed with color, and a short
green square jacket topped her white blouse.

"Carlina Cameron" I said softly.

"I don't suppose she looks like that anymore.  I painted from memory to
get her out of my system.  It's rather good, don't you think?"

"It's marvelous" Corey said.  A word I hadn't heard him use before. "And
sometimes she looks like that even now.  I'll bet Fergus would buy it
from you."

"It's not for sale."

I liked Anne Trench's quiet assurance.  She knew who she was, knew her
own worth, so that destructive emotion had no place in her life today.

There was no point to my pretending I didn't know their history, so I
dared to ask a question.  "Was Carlina the reason behind all those angry
paintings?"

For a moment something less tranquil looked out of her eyes, and then
she shrugged lightly.  "I suppose she was.  It's hard to remember."

But she had said that she'd painted this to get Carlina out of her
system.  I said nothing more, and she relaxed a little as though from
sudden tension.

"I wanted to see if I could paint her without anger-and I did."

Again, if Corey hadn't been there, I might have asked more questions.
What I wanted from her was something I could apply to my own life.  But
I went in another direction.

"Why did you want to see me, Mrs.  Trench?"

"Let's go back to the other room" she said.

Corey came with us.  "I'll take care of this stuff.  You and hallie sit
and talk he said as he began to clear the table.

The room had no real sofa, but a wooden frame with a spring mattress had
been heaped with multicolored cushions, and Anne Trench waved me onto
it.  She sat at the opposite end, placing a large cushion against the
wall to support her back.

"I wanted to see you because of Susan.  You must have known her better
than anyone else during your years in college and for several years
after."

"We were good friends, yes.  But sometimes I've wondered if I ever
really knew her.  Especially since I've come to Topsail I've wondered."

"That's what makes people interesting.  There's always one more mystery
to solve 'n any relationship."

"I don't think I like such mysteries."

"Life doesn't ask us to like them, does it?"

Out of my own pain I asked a direct question.  "How did you get over
what happened with Carhna?"

She was silent for so long that I was afraid I had offended her. Then
she returned my question with one of her own.  "So it's happened to you,
too?"

It was easy to tell her.  "Yes.  I'm running away.  You ran away, didn't
you?"

"I had too much pain to stay any longer."

"Without pride we become doormats."

"Only if we have doormat temperaments.  I don't have, and neither do
you.  I can see that clearly enough."

The ground under my feet was growing unsteady.  I had to get onto
something safer.  "Does your son know you're here?"

"Not yet.  Though I may change that soon.  I haven't wanted Louise over
here giving me advice."

I smiled.  "Would she dare?"

"She doesn't know how to deal with me.  I'm afraid I've made life
difficult for her and for Ryce.  I miss Susan.  Somehow we were always
the same age.  We saw into each other and we loved what we saw.  And we
accepted what we didn't like.  I want her back and I know that's not
going to happen."

"How can you be sure she's dead?"

"I would know if she were alive."

"Will you see the captain while you're here?"

"What could we say to each other now?"

Nevertheless, she had come, and the captain's illness might have
something to do with the fact that she was here.

"Of course, you knew Fergus, too-even before Carlina came into the
picture?"

"Yes.  I always liked Fergus.  Though he used to put up a guard around
his feelings.  I'm sure he thought himself inferior to Nicholas at one
time.  Their ranks were so far apart, though as far as Nicholas was
concerned, that made no difference once they began working together.
Fergus has a brain that makes him most people's superior."

"At least he married Carhnal" I said, and could have bitten my tongue.

She thought about that quietly, not taking offense.  "The trouble was
that Fergus believed that he was Carlina's second choice.  It's a wonder
the marriage ever lasted."

"I think they really love each other."

"Mmm.  I wonder if that's enough."

I wondered, too.  Apparently it wasn't.

I returned to the subject of Susan.  "I always hoped she would find a
man she could really care about."

"She did" Anne Trench said.  "But she didn't trust herself. She saw her
grandfather's and my example.  And she saw the nustake her father had
made in his second marriage.  So I think she was afraid."

Corey dropped a knife he was drying.  I'd forgotten his presence and I
looked toward him in time to catch the flicker of some emotion in his
face, though I wasn't sure what it was. When he caught my eye he picked
up the knife and wiped it energetically.  But I'd seen a glimpse of
something.  Was Corey the "wrong man" Susan had fallen in love with?  Or
was he still shaken by the presence of another man in Susan's life, a
rival?

"We'd better get back," Corey said abruptly.

Our leaving seemed suddenly arranged.  Corey held my jacket for me, and
Anne Trench came with me, her hand on my arm. "Please come see me again,
hallie.  Will you do that?"

"I'd love to, if Corey will bring me."

"Corey will bring you.  Just don't talk to Nicholas or anyone else about
this."

Telling Nicholas-or the others on Topsail-was the last thing on my mind.
She came out on the porch with us into the warming morning and watched
as we went down to the boat. As we drew away far enough from the small
beach, I looked back and waved.  She stood in the doorway with firelight
behind her-a bright figure in her patchwork.  I envied her the peace she
seemed to have found.  She knew exactly how she wanted to live.  And she
had her work to sustain her.  I would certainly come again.  But I
wanted to see her alone and I needed to find a way to get here by myself
Corey and I made no attempt to talk on the noisy trip through the sound.
Not until he'd tied up at the captain's dock and helped me out of the
boat was there quiet enough for speech.

"Thank you for taking me to see her," I said.  "She's a remarkable
woman."

"She's definitely that.  We've become friends because of our love for
Susan."

There was no comment I dared to make, and we walked along in silence
until we reached the house.  Then he stopped beside me and I knew he
wanted to talk, though when he did, he looked across the water and not
at me.

"We were going to be married," he said.  "We were ready to risk it."

risk it?"

"Everyone was against us, except my mother.  Especially Louise.  And she
influenced Susan's father.  She felt I wasn't good enough for Ryce's
daughter."

"What about the captain?"

"He wouldn't have opposed Susans wishes for long, and he pays no
attention to Louise.  She thought I was after the money. Knowing how the
captain felt about Susan, she could see him cutting Ryce off. Especially
if we had kids-which we both wanted."

We'd reached the entrance to the house and I put a hand on his arm.
"Thank you for telling me.  I'm sorry.  Sorrier than ever that Susan is
gone."

He stared at me strangely for a moment.  "Wait a minute, hallie.  I want
to show you something."

I went around the house with him to the clearing in the grove of live
oaks between the two houses.

"It's over here," he said.

I followed him to an overgrown area with a circular wire fence around
it.  "That's it," he said.

I knew what he meant.  There was nothing to see beyond the fence but a
dark circle where the earth seemed to disappear into a hole.  This was
the infamous Pirate's Pit.

"That's where she went " " he said.  "I know.  I know it inside me,
though I haven't any proof There's a feeling about this place.  She'll
never be found, and we'll never know for sure, but I have had dreams and
I-" He stopped, visibly shaken.

I shivered, though not only because of his words.

He looked at me now, straight into my eyes, and I felt the in tensity of
his emotion.  all the boyishness, the seerm'ng lightheartedness, had
gone out of him.  I was looking at a man who was still suffering
deeply-and who put on a masquerade to hide his feelings.

"I think this is why Anne painted a hazy figure at the end of her
Corridor painting" Corey said.  "Maybe it was even a glimpse of the
future."

Much as it frightened me, how could I believe any of this?

He saw the question in my eyes and turned away abruptly, disappearing
around the house.  I moved back from the wire fence and walked over to
the road that led to the beach.  I was shaking and I couldn't bear to go
inside now, or to see anyone.  I felt shocked clear through.  Horrified.

I was hardly aware of my own movements until I reached the steps to the
gazebo that led over the dunes.  I ran up them and down the other side.
I kicked off my sandals and walked barefoot where the sand was wet and
dark and didn't slide under my feet.

I don't know how long I walked, letting white surf curl over my feet as
it flowed up the shoreline.  Once I stopped with my back to the ocean
and looked along the high stretch of houses beyond the dunes.  At
intervals wooden steps surmounted the piled sand and dropped down to the
beach.  I walked on aimlessly, and horror walked with me.  I knew it
would be a long time before I could shake off this terrible feeling.  It
was possible that Coreys instincts were right, and this was what had
happened to Susan's body.  I dared not let my mind dwell on the detalls
of what might have occurred.  Walking helped, and that was all I could
manage for now.

At the top of the steep steps over the dunes were platforms, sometimes
with benches.  Near the place where I walked I saw a man sitting on one
of the benches, looking out over the ocean. The sudden pain of
recognition gripped me, stabbed through me.  Once more I saw a man who
looked like Paul.  From a distance the resemblance was so strong that I
started across loose sand to get a little closer.  Behind me the imprint
of my feet waited to be destroyed by the next surge of water.

As I approached, the man stood up and turned to go down the far steps to
the road.  He looked so much like Paul.  He moved like Paul.  I ran
across the sand and up the steps.  I had to see him more closely-foolish
though that might be.  But by the time I reached the platform where he'd
stood, the man had gone down the other side and disappeared.  I sat on
the bench to catch my breath.  I was shaking again, but for another
reason.  If only I could have seen him closely enough to be sure to
dismiss my fantasy.

But of course I was sure.  Paul didn't know where I was.  I hadn't yet
written to tell him.  I must get myself under control.  I must.  I made
my way back to where I'd left my sandals and returned to the captain's
house.

I had gone down to the beach in an attempt to deal with what Corey had
told me about the Pirate's Pit.  I'd been shocked, unbelieving,
frightened.  But walking on the sand hadn't clarified anything.  Then
I'd seen the man who looked like Paul, and that glimpse had pushed me to
the edge of an emotional cliff.  By the time I got back to the house, I
was sick and trembling.

I went first to my room and sat in the chair Corey had left in the
middle of the floor.  Lined up against the baseboard, Anne Trench's
paintings seemed to mock me, even though I saw only their backs.  I
reminded myself that she had thrown them away. Painting them had freed
her to some extent.  Now I must find a way to free myself, as she had
done.  Yet all I could see when I closed my eyes was Paul's face.  Not
as I'd last seen it when he'd left me to my anger and disappeared, but
the way he used to look at me-valuing me, loving me as no one else ever
had.  But that was something I could never recover.  Somehow I must get
myself in hand and stop seeing Paul in other men.

The reason I was here on Topsail was because of Susan.  And now Corey
had told me something so terrible that I could not let it pass.  As long
as I remained here-and perhaps for the rest of my life-I was going to be
haunted by the image of Susan's body lost down that deep black hole.
What had happened to her?  How did she die?  This was what must occupy
me now.

I knew I ought to go see the captain, but I was in no state to talk to
him.  I couldn't tell him about Anne and the house on Cabbage Island,
and I could never tell him what Corey had said yet he would certainly
sense my state of mind andnei their wanted him to worry about me nor
probe into my confusion.

What I needed to do now was to find Corey and discover what lay behind
his belief that Susan had disappeared down the Pit.  I couldn't accept
that it was just a feeling, an instinct.  But when I pushed myself out
of the chair, the amethyst geode drew me as though to a magnet.  I put
my hands on the deep purple heart of the stone and closed my eyes.
Clarity of thought was one of the attributes amethyst was supposed to
convey.

Breathing deeply, slowly, I cleared my mind.  Nothing happened except
for a dizzy churning.  Then, suddenly, across the darkness behind my
lids, I could see the flash of a name.  The letters were there long
enough for me to read them.  The name that appeared was Louise.

I stared again into the dark lights of the stone and caught that secret
hint of flame.  Why Louise?  From the first I'd disliked her. There
seemed to be an artificiality about her that hid something deeper,
something that I suspected might reveal the real Louise.  Amethyst
insight?  But I had no idea where to go with what had been given me.

Tonight I would have dinner with her and Ryce, and I would try to see
her with new eyes.  But first, I had to find Corey.

I found his mother on the deck, resting for once, stretched outlin a
lounge chair, her eyes closed.  Unguarded, the lines of her face had
deepened, giving her a troubled look, as though hidden worries had taken
over.  She heard me and sat up.  The lines smoothed out, so that she
looked as she always did.  Perhaps what I'd read was no more than
weariness.

"The captain's having a nap, so don't go in to see him just yet " she
warned me.

I was glad he wasn't waiting for me.  "Do you know where I can find
Corey?"

She hesitated, but must have decided there was no reason not to tell me.
"I think he's upstairs in his rooms.  Do you know why he seems so
upset?"

I told her I didn't, though I could easily guess, and went in'de to
climb the stairs to a part of the house I'd not been 'in before.  The
top step put me into a narrow hallway that ran across the back of the
house and appeared to open into several rooms whose doors were now
closed.  These must be bedrooms that dated back to a day when a number
of people had lived in this house.

The entire floor seemed quiet and empty, and I had no idea what to do
next.  "Hello?" I said tentatively.  The silence seemed to deepen, and I
wondered if Corey was.  holding his breath, waiting for me to go away.
"Hello!" I called more loudly.  "It's hallie.  Are you up here, Corey?"

This time I heard sounds and one of the doors opened.

Corey looked out at me without welcome.  "What do you want?"

I didn't intend to be turned away.  "I need to talk with you.

Please."

For a moment I thought he might close the door in my face, but after a
few moments of indecision, he stepped back and beckoned me into the
first of two rooms.  This one, at the back of the house, was his
bedroom, plainly furnished with handme-down necessities, and without
anything that seemed to reveal more about Corey Orion than I already
knew.  There weren't even any pictures on the walls.

"This way," Corey said, and I followed him through a far door that
opened into a big room with windows looking out toward the sound.
Clearly, this was Corey's domain.  Here I began to have a sense of the
man who must spend much of his time here.  A long table down one wall
held the bits and pieces of the collections he had mentioned.  I saw
shells of many varleties, assorted sharks' teeth, bits of driftwood,
even pieces of colored glass, polished and smooth, that must have rolled
in from the sea.  I noticed a strong, fishy smell and saw that he had
been cleaning shells in which sea creatures had once lived-and died. He
waved me toward the front of the room and went to wash his hands at a
sink in which more sheus were piled.

The morning had turned bright and sunny, and light sent reflected
ripples across the ceiling, as I'd seen in the captain's room.  This
floor was set back from the cantilevered deck below, and I could look
across to where Mrs.  Orion still lay stretched in her lounge chair near
the rail.

Corey Joined me, wary and unwelcoming.  A few chairs and a small table
had been set before the windows, and he waved a hand in reluctant
invitation.  I sat in a molded plastic chair, while he took a dark
wooden one opposite.  A new wariess toward me lighted his eyes.

"I'm not going to talk about it," he said.

My own tense feelings brimmed over.  "I'm sorry-I don't want to upset
you, but there isn't anyone else to talk to.  And I need to talk.  I
don't think you want me to go to the captain."

He didn't meet my eyes, and after a moment I went on.

"I want to know more about Anne Trench, and why you took me to meet her.
But first there's what you believe about Susan.  I felt so sick after
what you told me that I went down to the beach to try and get hold of
myself I thought that a walk by the ocean would clear my head.  I saw a
man standing at the top of some steps, a man who looked like my husband,
though of course it couldn't have been Paul.  He walked away before I
could get close enough to be sure.  I haven't told you this, but Paul
and I are in the midst of a crisis in our marriage.  When I got back to
my room, I was more shaken than ever, so I got the idea of talking to
you-not necessarily about Susan-just to sort things out.  Foolish, I
suppose.  I should just go home and try to figure out my life and forget
what I've seen and learned over the past three days.  There's nothing to
hold me here.  The captain doesn't need me." I got up and went over to
an open window.  Leaning on the sill, I stared blindly at the water.

Corey surprised me by putting an arm about my shoulders in a brotherly
hug.  "I'm sorry, hallie.  You've never spoken to me about your husband.
Now I can see you've had too much thrown at you all at once.  Until an
hour ago, I'd never told any one what I think happened to Susan-it just
spilled out because you were Close to her once.  And I'd bolded
everything up for too long."

I turned around with my back to the window.  "But why?

Why do you believe something so terrible happened to her?"

He shook his head helplessly.  "I can't tell you because I don't know. I
just have this strong feeling that has little to do with reason.

In the face of Corey's unhappiness I tried to pull myself together.  "If
someone Susan knew did this, then that person must be carrying around a
load of guilt.  Do you suppose you could tap into it?  Have you any
suspicion at all about who might have hated Susan that much?"

"I've thought of everyone I know who was connected to her in any way.
I've gone over the list again and again, and come up with nothing.
Anyone at all could have entered that grove down there when it's dark
and never have been noticed.  It's not the back windows we look out of
most of the time."

"There's a light that burns all night, isn't there?"

"Yes, between the two houses, but its light doesn't reach under the
trees."

I moved away from the support of his arm.  "She must have met someone
down there-someone she knew and wasn't afraid of Someone who-"

He broke in.  "It's no use.  I've been down this road a hundred times.
Let it go, hallie.  It's not your affair.  You might even put yourself
at risk.  I should never have told you."

I wonder," I said, beginning to pace slowly across the room, if it's
time to tell everyone make someone worry.

"Stay out of this!  I never should have told you," he repeated.

"You needed to talk.  just as I needed to talk.  That's why I came
looking for you.  I didn't want to be alone."

When I sat down again in the hard little chair, I found that some of the
tension I'd been feeling had lessened.  But I still needed to hear the
sound of a voice.  "Tell me about you, Corey. Where did you grow up?
What was your father like?"

His grin was one I knew.  "Distraction?  Is that what you want?
Stories?"

"It might help.  But I'd really like to know."

He stayed where he was, leaning against the windowsill.  "all right.  I
grew up in Wilmington.  My father left us when I was ten."

"Were you close to him?"

"I thought I was.  He worked for an airline-servicing planes, seeing
that everything was all right before they took off.  Once he drove me
out to the airport so I could see what he did.  I could understand that
it was pretty important.  And then-all of a sudden he was gone.  I know
my mother and father disagreed a lot-I recall some angry words being
spoken.  I didn't like it, but I supposed it was what all parents did.
After my father left, my mother got a job in a bakery-I remember how
hard she worked.  She used to come home at night smelling of cinnamon
buns." He smiled faintly, lost in the past.

"Don't talk about this if it makes you feel worse," I said.

"It's all right.  It feels good to talk.  Susan used to listen.  After
that he went on, "my mother took her training as a nurse's aid, and we
came to live here after Mrs.  Trench went away.  I was still pretty
young.  At first the captain was just mad at the world.  He wasn't sick
then, but he'd had a bad fall that left him with a damaged knee.  He
couldn't get around the way he used to, and he had to have help-though
he hated it.  Mom cooked for him, and began to boss him a little.  He
accepted us and she became his housekeeper.  When he got sick she was
the one person he would let take care of him."

"Was it an affair with Carlina that broke up his marriage?"

"I suppose.  Though I'm not sure.  She was pretty young when she married
Fergus Cameron.  The captain used to be a 'striking -looking man, and I
hear he was the sort who was always in charge.  I met Anne later,
through Susan, and I liked her right away.  I think she likes me,
too-after all, we have Susan in common." Corey paused.  "Now it's your
turn.  Where did you grow up?"

I couldn't open up to Corey the way I had to Paul, but I told him a
little.  Though he really listened, nothing helped.  My sense of loss
was overwhelming me since I'd glimpsed that man on the dunes. Everything
had grown much too sharp an over again, and I didn't seem able to push
it away.

"What do you want out of life, Corey?" I asked.  "I can't see you
picking up jobs as a waiter forever.  Or playing beachcomber.  Isn't
there something you want to do more than anything else?"

"There used to be.  I made plans with Susan after she came back from
college.  She was going in with me and we were going to start a
restaurant and run it ourselves.  Susan would have made the necessary
investment, if she could have gotten some of her inheritance from her
grandfather.  I'd have been good at the management end.  I'd have seen
to the kitchen and the menus, and she'd have been out in front charming
all the customers." He paused, lost in the possibilities, before
focusing " "Pipe dreams. Make-bel-eye.  We were good at on me again.

that."

"It sounds like more than a dream.  Perhaps it would really have
happened.  Perhaps it still can.  On your own."

His look was wry.  "Louise was dead set against the idea.  She was
always snooty and dismissive, afraid that we'd squander money that was
rightfully hers.  I suppose she pushed Ryce. Sometimes I wonder about
her.  Do you think tha. "I'm so superior' attitude stems from the fact
that she doesn't really believe in herself-.?"

That was a new way to look at Louise, but I could only shrug.  "What
about the captain?" I asked.

"He didn't really want us to marry, though he seemed to like me well
enough.  They all had better plans for Susan.  Of course, she would have
gone her own way.  She wanted us to run off and get married-cause
trouble for everybody!  I think she hoped that her grandmother would
help.  Then she ...  disappeared ...  and it was all over."

Corey and I shared a deep pain.  Paul was gone for me, as surely as
Susan was for Corey.  But I didn't mean to live with pain.  I meant to
get over this somehow.  I was stunned that the sight of someone who
looked like Paul could throw me so completely.  I'd been seeing Paul in
other men ever since I left California.  But those were only mistakes. I
couldn't be sure about this.  Obviously I had a lot of recovering to do.
Recovery took time.  That I wanted it to happen now was foolish.

Corey had turned to look out toward the sound, and some thing must have
caught his eye down at the dock.  He shouted out the window, warning
someone.  Then he started down the long room, running.

Alarmed, I followed him down two flights of stairs to the ground, and
ran after him out to the dock.  Now I saw what had disturbed him. Dulcie
was in Corey's boat, about to start the outboard.

"Dulcie!" he shouted, and ran along the dock.  "Get out of that boat!"

She looked up at him defiantly.  "I can start it.  I can run your old
boat!"

"You can, but you're not going to.  Come up out of there. You're not
supposed to go out in any boat unless a grown-up is along.  What do you
think your father would say?"

"Nobody cares." She made no move to climb out of the boat.

"I'll count to three, Dulcie.  If you're not out on the dock by three,
I'll come down and throw you in the water."

I was afraid she'd get the motor started and pull away on her own.
Perhaps it was the mention of her father that made her give up.  She
scrambled out onto the dock, her red hair shining in the sun, her
expression still defiant.

"What's the matter with you?" Corey looked as though he wanted to shake
her.  "You know better!"

Dulcie's resistance crumbled.  "Maybe if I drowned, they'd pay some
attention!" she walled, bursting into tears.

"don't think that's very smart" Corey said, squatting down next to her.
"You're talking silly.  Tell me what's the matter."

She sat down on the end of the dock and swung her legs over the edge.
Her shorts were bedraggled and her T-shirt dirty. She hardly looked like
the well-dressed little girl we'd had dinner with the night before.

"I can't tell you if she listens Dulcie said, throwing me a doleful look
and burying her head on Corey's shoulder.

"Then I'll go in," I said.  "You can talk to Corey alone."

Corey shook his head.  "You can talk to us both.  hallie was Susan's
friend, and she's ours, too-you know that."

I suspected that Dulcie's tears were a little much for him, and he
needed me to stay.  "I'll sit over on this side" I said.  "Then you can
pretend I'm not here." I went to the bench where I'd sat with the
captain and looked off across the water.  A gull soared overhead,
squawking noisily.

Dulcie raised her head, upset enough to forget about me as she poured
out her troubles to Corey.

"They were still mad at each other this morning.  They aren't talking.
And they're both mad at me-though I didn't do anything."

"What are they mad about?" Corey asked.

She wiped her eyes with a corner of her T-shirt.  "I guess Mom was happy
because Dad went to see the captain.  She thought she would invite the
captain over to our house for dinner, if he could come.  That was when
Dad got real mad, though I don't see why, or what he was blaming her
for.  He stomped out of the house and Mom began to cry.  When I tried to
hug her, she pushed me away and said to leave her alone.  all she could
think about was him."

"They'll get over it," Corey said.  "They always do.  And it's not a
good idea to go out and get drowned just so they'll notice you.  That
doesn't make much sense, does it?  Especially when you know they both
love you."

She squinted at him sideways from under her tangle of hair, and I could
see the hint of a smile.

"Haven't you got anything clean to put on?" Corey asked.

I stood up.  "You're dressed just right for a walk on the beach, Dulcie.
Maybe we can find some special shells, or even a shark's tooth." I
smiled at Corey.  "How about coming along?"

"Sure thing" he said quickly.  "Let's all go down to the beach. But
first, Dulcie, tell your mother where you'll be.  And don't say any of
that stuff about her not caring.  Grown-ups need to be by themselves
sometimes."

She ran off, and I stopped in the house to tell Mrs.  Orion where we
were going.  I wasn't really sure I wanted to return to the beach, but
it was like riding a horse: When you fell off, you were supposed to get
back on again right away.

Orion was pleased that we were taking Dulcie down to the beach. "She
stayed here with me for a while this morning, but then she said she
needed something to do besides moping around.  I'll fix a picnic lunch
for you to take along.  The captain's awake, so you'd better look in on
him.  Don't mind if he snaps at you.  The pain's worse today and that
makes him cranky."

I thanked her for offering to fix lunch and went to look into the
captain's room.  He was awake in bed, and he scowled at me. "You took
your time getting back, young lady."

I stayed in the corner of the room beside a window.  The way he looked,
his face drawn with pain, disturbed me, though I tried not to let him
see.

"I didn't know we had a schedule" I said defiantly.  "Mrs.  Orion is
fixing a lunch for Corey and Dulcie and me to take down to the beach,
but if you'd rather I stayed with you, of course I will."

His scowl remained fixed.  "Oh, go along.  You're young. You can't just
stay indoors with an old codger like me."

I imitated his scowl.  "It's not like ' you to feel sorry for your self
Maybe we can make plans for this afternoon.  Is there something
different you'd like to do?"

His attention had wandered past me and I realized he wasn't listening.
His eyes had widened and a flush had come into his face.  I turned to
find Carlina in the doorway.  For once, she wasn't wearing one of her
colorful outfits.  She had put on jeans and a big shirt that might have
belonged to Fergus.  Her dark hair hung down her back in a long
ponytail, tied with a red ribbon.  A puffiness discolored the skin
around her eyes, so it was evident that she'd been crying.  This -was
the first time I'd seen her in a state where she didn't seem to care
about her appearance.  I wondered if she wanted to look her age because
the captain was old and sick.  Mrs.  Orion hovered behind her, uncertain
about this unexpected and unannounced visitor.  I wondered how long it
had been since this woman and the old man in the bed had met.

"It's okay, Mrs.  01" the captain said, and Mrs.  Orion reluctantly went
away.

Carlina Cameron came to stand beside the captain's bed.  She hadn't seen
me, and the captain appeared to have forgotten I was there.  I didn't
stir, lest I break whatever spell might have been cast.

For a moment the captain stared up at Carlina.  Then he turned his head
against his pillow, and I knew how much he hated having her see him as
he was now.

"Just go away," he told her.  "I don't want to talk to you."

She paid no attention, but took one bony hand of his in hers. His hand
stayed limp, offering no response.  "Please," she said.  "I need your
help, Nick."

His silence made it clear that he had no help to offer.

still holding his hand, she sat down on the bed beside him. "It would be
good for Fergus if you two could be friends again. He enjoyed seeing you
yesterday.  I know that he was glad to use the excuse of what was found
on the beach to call on you."

"He can come anytime he wants the captain said gruffly.

"I told him that it was time that you two got to be friends again and
that it would do you both good.  I never dreamed he would be so angry
with me.  He's still jealous, I'm afraid."

"Jealous?  Of me?  Like this!" The captain's snort was derisive.

Carlina stroked the back of his hand with one finger.  "You were always
exciting, Nick.  I suppose he remembers that.  But I love him very
much." Her voice broke.  After a moment she

"He' always believed that he was my second choice, and he can't stand
that."

"Was he?" the captain asked.  "Was he your second choice?"

I could see her sadness as she returned his look.  "No, my dear.  You
were handsome and exhilarating and married, and Fergus was all the
dependable things I wanted in a man.  And still want.  But I'm not the
woman he fell in love with.  I know how much I've changed.  I thought if
you two could become friends again, he could let go of the bitterness.
That would be better for him.  And for me."

The captain looked up into her face so sadly that it twisted my heart. I
had sympathized with Anne from the beginning, and I'd felt angry with
Nick, but now I saw his eyes as they rested on Carlina.

"Will you phone him, Nick?" she pleaded.  "Ask him to come see you.  But
don't tell him I was here.  As long as he goes on being angry and
jealous, life will be impossible for me.  And we're both hurting Dulcie.
It's terrible for Fergus, too, and so foolish.  As though any of us was
young anymore.  I love him more than ever.  But I know how much I've
aged and changed, and I'm not sure he can take that in me.  His jealousy
has been rooted for so long in something that doesn't exist anymore."

The captain stared off into the distance and rediscovered me in my
corner.  He startled both Carlina and me with one of his best roars.

"What are you doing, skulking around like that?"

I stepped into the light.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to interrupt you,
but I suppose I'm eavesdropping."

Carlina's face revealed her dismay.  But after a moment of staring at
me, the captain roared in a different way-a roar of laughter.  When he
could catch his breath, he nodded to me. "We'll talk later.  I thought
you were going on a picnic?"

"I was.  I am." I managed to get myself out of the room without looking
at Carlina.

Corey and Dulcie were waltirig for me.  Mrs.  Orion had packed our lunch
in a basket that Corey was carrying.  She handed me a beach umbrella.

"It will be hot out there-you don't want an early sunburn."

Thus prepared, we carried things down to Corey's Ford and drove up the
road that led toward the ocean.  Dulcie sat between us, talkative again.

"My mother came to see the captain, didn't she?  Why?"

I tried to explain.  "She would like the captain and your father to be
friends again-the way they used to be."

Dulcie nodded, but I could sense the same uneasiness in her that I'd
felt before.  Something was troubling her, and I remembered what she'd
said about a secret.  There seemed no way to get her to talk about it,
however, until she was ready.

We left the car and went up over the dunes through the gizebo and down
to the beach.  Corey set up the umbrella and I sat in its shade.  The
surf sounded a steady beat of rolling and subsiding waves, repeated over
and over again.  A few birds hopped about at the edge of the water, and
there were always gulls, wide-winged overhead, or searching along the
sand as they walked about.

Corey left us for a scavenging expedition, and Dulcie went down to wade
in shallow surf.  In a few moments Corey came hurrying back.  "Dulcie!"
he caged.  "The turtles have started!"

She whooped her excitement, sand sticking to her bare feet as she ran
toward us.  I got up to follow them and find out what was happening.

"Watch it!" Corey said as we came near him.  "Don't spoil the tracks."

I stopped before stepping into what looked like a set of bulldozer
treads leading up the sand, with a parallel set coming down.

"She's laid her eggs!" Dulcie cried.  "We have to find the nest."

As we followed the wide tracks up the beach, Corey explained.
"Loggerhead turtles come to Topsoil to drop their eggs every spring. The
mothers look for what seems to them to be the perfect spot, then they
dig a hole with their hind flippers and drop the eggs into it.  Maybe a
hundred or more.  Once she's covered them with sand, the mother goes
back to the water.  The sun warms the eggs for a couple of months, until
the little turtles begin to hatch.  Sea turtles are endangered, so
everyone on Topsail's beaches goes on alert, and our Turtle Watch
starts.  There's an organization we can call to report our findings.
This is early in the season, so this one's out of sync.  I'll go up to
the house over there and let them know.  The area where the nest is
found must be marked so that it can be watched.  When the baby turtles
hatch, a crew of us turns out to protect them as they start down the
beach to the ocean.  There are predators who think baby turtles are
luscious, and they have to be kept away."

"When the Turtle Watch is on" Dulcie added, "all the people in beach
houses keep their outside lights off at night, so as not to confuse the
little turtles.  The babies can think a porch light is the moon and go
in the wrong direction.  It's the moon that shows them the way to the
ocean."

I liked the idea of community on Topsall.  While Corey ran up the steps
to the nearest house, I walked along the beach to see if there were any
more early tracks.  A number of houses that overlooked the dunes were
still empty, since the summer season hadn't yet begun.  I noted with
interest that one of the towers had been incorporated into a home, with
an addition built on to it.  As I studied this, I saw a man standing at
one of the windows, watching me.  It was the same man I'd seen before
the man who looked like Paul.

I turned around and walked quickly back to the beach urn- brella.  This
time I'd seen him clearly, and it wasn't just that he looked like Paul:
It was Paul.  I sat down on the sand and pulled up my knees, clasping my
hands around them to stop from shaking.

It couldn't be.  It wasn't possible.  There was no way that Paul could
know where I was.  I hadn't felt like writing him, but, even if I had,
he wouldn't have had time to get the letter yet. My imagination was
playing tricks on me again.  I must stop this idiotic trembling.  But
the question was there in my mind. What was I to do if it was Paul?  I
didn't want to see him or talk to him.

After we'd stared at each other for a moment, the man had turned away
from the windowjust as I was about to turn away from the house, so I
hadn't had a really long look.  It couldn't be Paul.

"You look funny," Dulcie said, dropping down on the sand beside me.

I drew a deep breath.  "I think I'm faint from hunger.  Let's start our
picnic."

By the time Corey came to join us, we'd set out the cloth Mrs.  Orion
had packed, and I'd weighted it down from the wind with her metal
utensils-nothing picnic-plastic in this basket.  Dulcie opened the
container of potato salad and doled out pickles onto bright yellow
plates.  There were sandwiches of thick-sliced ham and cheese, and
carefully wrapped slices of apple pie.

I gave my attention to unwrapping a sandwich, while Corey and Dulcie
discussed the turtles.  I seemed able to eat with a good appetite, which
was remarkable under the circumstances. Dulcie gobbled too fast, and
before Corey and I were half finished, she was off to play in the surf
again.  I knew that Corey had been watching me, and that I hadn't hidden
my inner upheaval from him.  I probably still looked "funny."

"What is it, hallie?  What's happened?"

I tried to speak lightly.  "I thought I saw my husband at a window of
one of those houses down the beach.  But of course that isn't possible."

He asked no more questions, and when the silence between us grew too
long, I broke it.

"He couldn't possibly know where I am."

"Do you want him back?"

I shook my head and did busy things with my hands.  I had turned away
from the tower house, but Corey was looking fixedly over my shoulder.

"I think he's here to see you right now," he said.

Without turning, I knew he was right.  Even before Paul spoke, I knew he
was behind me.

"Hello hallie." His voice wasn't like any other man's.  I'd always loved
those deep, deceptively quiet tones.  His voice could cast a spell. He'd
always seemed an exciting man to me, and I knew other women found him
exciting, too. But since I had been the one, I'd trusted him, so when
other women looked at him, it didn't matter.  I was proud-and foolshly
sure.

"I miss you," he said when I didn't respond to his greeting.

I looked up at him then, with pain and anger rising to choke me.  I had
nothing to say to him.  Integrity between us had mattered.  I had really
believed that.  A concept so ...  old-fashioned, so easily shattered!
Humpty Dumpty could never be put back together again.

"It's important that you talk to me.  Can we talk, hallie?" he asked.

Corey took the hint and loped off across the sand, to join Dulcie at the
water's edge.

I didn't speak, and he read the answer in my face.  At once his own
anger rose to meet mine.  I glimpsed it in his eyes before he turned
away abruptly and strode off along the beach.  Even on sand, his walk
had a jaunty swing-as though nothing ever fazed him.  But I'd seen his
eyes, seen the door that had been closed between us.  Which was exactly
what I wanted.

I stood up and called to Corey and Dulcie.  "I'd like to go back now.  I
promised the captain that I wouldn't be gone too long."

They came toward me together, Dulcie carrying her shoes and socks.  At
least she didn't put up a fuss about returning. Corey had probably said
something, for she looked at me with new curiosity.

"Your face is all red" she announced.

"Just shut up, kid," Corey said softly.  "You can help me carry things
to the car."

I felt close to tears and angry with myself for feeling hurt.  At least
I was grateful to Corey for not talking as we carried everything up the
steps and through the gazebo to where we'd left the car.  For once,
Dulcie looked subdued as we got in.

When we reached the house, I went inside at once and hurried to the
captain's room.  He still lay in his bed, and I could tell that whatever
spark of interest Carlina might have lighted in him had been
extinguished.  He regarded me sadly, without interest.

I sat down beside his bed and picked up a book that lay open on a chair.
"Would you like me to read to you?"

"Not now.  I couldn't concentrate," he said, waving his hand in the air
weakly and letting it drop to the spread as though it was too heavy to
stay aloft.

"captain, I've enjoyed my visit.  You and the others have been more than
kind, but I must leave as soon as I can get a flight home."

I had caught him by surprise and he looked anxious.  I could glimpse the
man Carlina had told me needed to always be in control.

"There's nothing you can do about what I intend, hallie. This is the way
it's going to be."

My leftover anger spilled out at him.  "You're giving your money to me
to pay your son back for marrying Louise.  You want to hurt him.  You
want to make them both suffer."

"That's my right.  They deserve whatever I do.  Both of them."

"Why?"

He glowered at me in annoyance.  "Sometimes I'm sorry that I brought you
here.  When I was young I had more respect for those who knew more than
I did."

"Just tell me something," I said.  "If Anne hadn't left you, what would
have happened?  Would you have stayed married and gone on having affairs
with other women?"

"That's none of your business" he sputtered.

"Would you have been faithful to Anne if she'd stayed with you?

At least he'd come to life, and he was still strong enough to hold his
own.

"God, or nature, or whatever, didn't create men to be faithfull" he
responded vehemently.  "They were put here on earth to keep the race
going.  That's why they're driven to females, and its an instinct in all
male animals."

I had to protest.  "Not all.  Some animals mate for life.  And humans
are different.  Anyway, no other animal has a conscience. Even the male
animal can know when he's hurting someone he supposedly loves."

"Do you think that's all that keeps two people together in marriage?" He
was watching me with new interest.  "Don't stand there preaching to me.
Sit down!"

I sat, but I didn't give up.  "No, I don't think conscience is all there
is.  What about love?  Or don't you believe there's any such thing?"

He sighed.  "I suppose it depends on whether the sex drive is stronger
than the moral drive.  There are all sorts of variables. Love may not
come into it at all."

"I don't think you believe that," I said.  "Which one did you love-Anne
or Carlina?"

Perhaps I'd asked a question for which he had no answer, and I half
expected a reprimand.

Instead he spoke quietly, sadly.  "I loved them both.  And I lost them
both."

I could hardly accept that.  No woman could accept that the man she
loved could love another woman equally.  Especially not Anne, I was
sure, and certainly not me.  I sat watching reflections from the water
drift across the ceiling.  The house seemed strangely quiet, as though
it held its breath.  Only my spirit was restless, wounded, uncertain.
Unsatisfied.

"Paul is here on Topsail," I told the captain abruptly.  "Did you send
for him?"

"So that's what this is all about?  No, of course I didn't.  What does
he want?"

"I don't know.  Just to talk, he said."

"Of course you know.  He wants you back.  So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing" I said.

"He'n persist.  He values you or he wouldn't have come.  He'll make
promises, heap coals of fire on his own head-anything to get you to
forgive him."

"You don't know Paul."

He went on as though I hadn't spoken.  "Then he'll break every one of
his solemn promises.  That's what nature prompts us to do."

"In that case I don't want him."

He cocked one of his bushy eyebrows at me.  "You want him. It's written
all over you.  And you'll have good times again because he'll be sorry
for a good, long while."

I shook my head.  "I don't want that sort of relationship."

The captain scowled at me.  "Ah, woman!  Female virtue!"

"It's not a matter of virtue," I said indignantly.  "Nobody worries
about that anymore.  If he loved me the way I love him-"

"Of course you love him.  And as far as he's able, he loves you, I'm
sure."

You re measuring other men by your own standards.  Paul's not like
that."

"Let it go." I threw up my hands in defeat, though it was defeat only
because I had no more arguments to give him.  I only knew how I felt.
Thinking with my emotions, perhaps, and not with my mind, but for now
that was the best I could do.

The captain leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes.

"I'm tired.  I'm tired of talking to you about this.  Tired of the way
you can't face facts.  Other animals have better sense. They don't
examine what should never be examined.  They rely on instinct, and it
works for them.  But when a man follows his instinct, look what
happens!"

I sat where I was in silence.

The captain spoke, startling me.  "You intend to have dinner tonight
with Ryce and Louise and Richard Merrick.  That's your plan, isn't it?
But I don't think you should go.  By this time Richard has probably told
Louise what I mean to do with my will.  She can be vituperat' , and I
don't think you need that.

wi   we Ryce won't oppose me he hasn't the gumption.  But you'll be in
for an unpleasant time if you see them tonight."

I answered him firmly.  "I want to go.  I mean to tell them that I won't
have anything to do with your money, and I won't accept it if you leave
it to me as you've planned.  I'll talk to Mr. Merrick about getting out
of this.  So Louise should be pleased to have me as her guest."

"Why don't you relax, hallie, and let an old man do what he wants to do?
It won't please Louise if you refuse, because I'll never let her get her
hands on anything of mine anyway.

There'll be a legacy for Ryce, but not a large one.  The rest will be
distributed to various societies I've favored over the years.  I didn't
earn this money myself, though the stock market helped. It was left to
me by my father, and I haven't spent recklessly. Ryce will manage, but
Louise will probably leave him for Richard-if Richard is foolish enough
to take her on.  If she leaves, that will be good for my son."

He sounded sad and defeated, but there was nothing I could do to help
him, especially when I couldn't even help myself "I'll let you know how
it goes" I said, and went away quietly.

Dulcie hadn't gone home, but was sitting on a high stool at a counter in
the kitchen, visiting with Mrs.  Orion.  She hopped off the stool when
she saw me going past.  At least she looked more cheerful as she called
my name and came to join me.

"hallie, Dad's gone to Wilmington today, so Mom said I could invite you
over to see my room.

"How very nice.  I'd like to see your room" I said, happy to accept her
invitation.

We went outside and up the steps to the back porch of the Cameron house.

"Hi, Mom!" Dulcie called.  "I've brought hallie."

(I from some distant room, but Carlina didn't A voice answers     I I
appear.  "She's been crying" Dulcie said, "so she doesn't want anyone to
see her.  Now I think she's sad about the captain being so sick."

The kitchen Dulcie led me through was another lovely expression of
Carlina Cameron-who had run away from the circus because she wanted to
live in a home?  Copper-bottomed pots hung where they would catch
sunlight and add their own luster to the room.  A large round table wore
a cloth the color of pale butter, which hung in graceful folds to the
floor.  Yellow curtains had been tied back to invite the sun.  A
well-scrubbed chopping board sat beside the sink, and assorted knives
hung neatly above it in a rack.

Dulcie noted my interest.  "My grandmother came from Hungary, and Mom
says when she wasn't too busy in the circus, she loved to cook.  So Mom
does, too."

Dulcie's room was off a hall that cut through the house toward the
sound.  Carlina's love of color had been echoed here as well.  The
bedspread was bright with variegated patches, and matched curtains
Carlina must have made.  A desk was piled with schoolbooks, and a few
dolls lay on a window seat, looking neglected.

Dulcie's interest at the moment centered on a small square platforn --
perhaps something Fergus had built for her.  Behind it, a full-length
mirror leaned against the wall.

"Mom said I could show you the dance she's been teaching me," Dulcie
said excitedly, "the one I'n do at the pageant when I'm a bareback
rider.  Sit down over there on the bed where you can watch.  I'll put on
the tape first."

She turned on a tape player and a lovely voice began to sing in words
that were foreign.  A woman's voice.  The tune was lively and
unfamiliar-something that might have accompanied plumed and prancing
horses as the ringmaster sent them out to entrance an audience.

Dulcie kicked off her sandals and put on pink satin ballet slippers,
leaning over to wind the ribbons around her ankles.

"Of course it will be nicer when I have my costume.  Mom is working on
it now.  But I can show you what I've been practicing."

The makeshift platform creaked a bit as she stepped up on it. She
performed several simple steps in time to the music and I could see that
grace was natural to her.  The pink shoes lifted in small jumps, and her
ankles crossed and recrossed.  The little platform settled into place
and stopped objecting.  Dulcie's pli&s were deep, and her arabesque
beautiful, with one arm outstretched and one leg raised behind her in a
lovely curve.  Not even shorts could spoil the illusion, and I could
easily imagine her in a spangled costume.

When she did a small leap off the space that had confined her movements
and turned off the tape player, I applauded warnly.

"You're very good" I said.

She shrugged.  "I guess so.  There's a dance teacher who has a class
over in Hempstead, and I go once a week.  Mom comes to watch the class,
and she says I'm the best.  But maybe that's only because she wants me
to be the best.  Susan used to make up stories about all my famous
successes, but that was when I was little.  Susan was a pretty good
dancer, too, but she never wanted to stick to one thing, so she didn't
work at it, the way Mom wants me to work at dancing."

"And is this what you want?"

She looked away from me.  "I suppose.  Would you like to see something
Susan made for me?  It was sort of scary, until she explained how it
works."

A handsome cedar chest stood at the foot of her bed, and she raised the
lid to rummage inside, holding it up with one hand.

"hallie, would you come and hold the top for me?" she requested.

I held up the heavy lid by one corner and watched her search.  In her
hurry, she was tumbling everything about, and the cover came off an
object that she had packed into the end nearest me.  Sunlight caught the
glint of purple facets, and I held my breath.  For just an instant,
before Dulcie realized what she'd uncovered, a match to the amethyst
geode in my room was visible. Twin bookends, of course.

Dulcie looked alarmed when she realized that I'd seen what was there.
She wrapped it up again hastily, pushed other things on top of it, and
continued her search for the small object she finally pulled out of the
chest.

I recognized Susan's work.  She had loved to create strange little
creatures in clay.  When they turned out well, she sometimes glazed them
and had them fired.  This was a finished piece to which she'd given
considerable attention.

I let down the lid of the chest and took the object Dulcie held out to
me.  I didn't mention the amethyst cluster I'd glimpsed in the chest. If
she had taken it from Susan's room, that was her affair, and I was sure
Susan would never have begrudged her wanting it.

The small ceramic piece I held was one in which Susan had let her
imagination go.  It appeared to be a demon of some sort, painted emerald
green, except for the interior of its open red mouth.  The head and face
were larger than the body.  In fact, the head seemed to be composed
mainly of that open mouth, with tiny slivers of fish bone inside, making
rows of teeth.

"He certainly is ugly" I said, giving him back.

"He's supposed to be.  He's a Trouble Eater.  Susan told me he would
snap up the troubles that happened to me and just chew them up.  But he
only worked for a little while.  After Susan ... went away, he couldn't
help me anymore.  I guess he's just for little kids."

Suddenly she began to cry, a silent, unexpected weeping.  She stood with
the Trouble Eater in her hands, while tears coursed down her cheeks. Her
whole small body cried out for comfort, and I put my arms around her.

"How can I help, Dulcie?"

More tears brimmed and flowed.

"Would you like me to get your mother?" I asked.

For a moment she wept harder than ever, so I knew that suggestion had
been rejected.

"I'd really like to help if you'd let me," I said.

She hesitated and then went to lift the lid of the chest again. I helped
her hold it as she put away Susan's little green creature. With hands
that had looked so graceful as she danced, she fumbled awkwardly with
something in the chest.  In a moment she lifted out the amethyst
cluster, onlypartly wrapped in an old sweater.

I lowered the lid of the chest carefully and took the heavy geode when
she thrust it at me.  "Do you want me to put this back with the other
one?" I asked her.

She shook her bright head wildly.  "No!  Don't do that.  Put it where no
one will ever see it.  Don't let my mother know I had it.  She's busy
now.  So just take it away quickly.  Please.

Her need to be rid of the geode she must have coveted and taken was so
great that I didn't hesitate.

"it will be all right, Dulcie.  I promise.  I'll hide it away in a safe
place."

She came with me to the door, and as I started to leave, she put a hand
on my arm.  She had stopped crying, but she looked frightened.

"I had to take it!  I had to!" she cried, and ran back inside.

I crossed the clearing, and no one saw me as I went up to my room. There
I put the amethyst rock, she wrapped 'n Dulcie's sweater, into a
suitcase in my closet and closed the door.  Topsail Island, to which I
had come to escape my own problems, was proving to be a focal point for
trouble.

That evening Richard called for me at five-thirty and we stopped for a
moment to see the captain before we left.

He sat on the deck in his chair, with Mrs.  Orion nearby working on a
sweater she was knitting for Corey.  Her son had already left for his
new job at the restaurant.

"This isn't a good idea," the captain said as soon as he saw Richard.
"Don't let that woman cut hallie down."

Richard promised that I would be fine, and got me away as quickly as he
could.

"Why doesn't he want me to go?" I asked when we were in his car.  "Is it
just Louise?"

"Don't worry.  Everything will be fine." He sounded cheerful enough.
"He's only afraid Louise will influence you in some way he won't
approve."

"And Ryce won't?" I asked as we backed out of the clearing.

He gave his attention to driving.  "Louise is the one to deal with in
that relationship."

I wondered silently about the way others seemed to dismiss the captain's
son.  When I'd driven back to Topsail with Ryce after lunch the day
before, I'd sensed a deep anger brewing in him, something he was
unwilling to show.  I didn't think he should be discounted as a player
in this family's power struggle.

"How is it going at the house?" Richard asked when we were across the
bridge.

I didn't mean to give him any details.  "all right, I suppose."

"You've seen your husband?"

I stared at him in surprise.  "How did you know?"

Richard smiled.  "Mr.  Knight found an envelope next to the telephone in
your apartment when he went back.  It had the name of my law firm, and
he phoned me.  When I said you were on Topsail, he asked me to find him
a place to stay on the island-he wanted to fly to North Carolina
immediately so I called a friend on Topsoil, and she is putting him up.
Mrs. Varidy.  He didn't want me to let you know he was here.  But when I
talked to him on the phone this afternoon, he said he'd seen you on the
beach."

There was nothing I could say.  I couldn't blame Richard for what he'd
done, and a curious sense of elation possessed me. Paul hadn't waited
before coming after me.  It was as the captain had said-he wanted me
back.  still, I couldn't be entirely sure after the way he'd walked off
again that afternoon.

"I'm not sure what he wants" I said.

"Are you sure of what you want?" Richard asked.  He didn't wait for an
answer, but reached across and patted my clenched hands.  "Relax.  I
have no business asking personal questions."

I suspected that his work kept him asking all sorts of personal
questions, and he was quite used to it.

I turned the tables.  "Are you married?"

He made a rueful sound.  "Once.  A long time ago.  Not now."

"Are you ever sorry you and your wife broke up?"

"No, I'm glad we did.  Every day of my life.  She married again-happily.
And I've remained happily free."

Free to pursue other men's wives, I couldn't help thinking.

I had planned to talk to Richard about the captain's will during this
drive, but I suddenly felt reticent to bring it up, as though this was
not the right time or place to discuss it.

After we'd driven in silence for a few minutes, he began to tell me
about the house we were to visit.

"Gull's Cove was once a real plantation house.  It dates back to the
time before the Greek Revival period and all those Gone With the Wind
columns.  It's much more typical of early plantation houses than the
grander ones that came later.  Beautiful restoration has made it
livable, yet true to the original.  The grounds are still expansive,
though not nearly as large as they once were.

We had turned off the main highway that ran through the Hempstead area
and were following a curving road that offered glimpses of the sound. A
road led between gateposts onto a driveway that approached the house. To
me it looked large and handsome and impressive.  A steep roof of gray
shingles sloped forward over a wide front porch.  Generously wide steps
led up the center, with white railings on either hand.

Louise came through the front door to greet us, her hand held out to me
in welcome, though her clasp was cool and quick.  She didn't appear to
like me any more than I liked her.  A rose crepe tunic over black
trousers both flattered and concealed her maturing figure.  Diamonds at
her earlobes caught the light, though she wore no other jewelry except
for a jeweled comb tucked into the carefully blond hair she wore coiled
at the back of her head.

I had dressed with purpose for this meeting with the formidable woman
who was the captain's daughter-in-law.  The evening was cool enough for
the simple two-piece wool chambray in pale lilac that I'd brought with
me from California.  A gold locket and chain accentuated the plain
V-neck, and I wore gold earrings to match.  I'd hesitated about wearing
the locket, because it was another piece that Paul had given me, but I
couldn't stop wearing what I liked because Paul had been the gift-giver.
I would create my own style now, and I could certainly deal with Louise.

We made something of a pair-lilac and rose!

She embraced Richard as though she hadn't seen him as recently as the
day before, and invited us in.

"We have a surprise guest:' she said as we crossed a narrow hall to the
parlor on our right.

I noticed the wide floorboards of another day, the uneven levels of the
ancient floors, which were polished to a dark sheen.  After I stepped
through the parlor door, however, I saw only the woman who sat in a
corner armchair, with her son standing beside her.

Anne Trench accepted Louise's introduction as though we hadn't met
before, and I played along, taking the hand she held out to me.  She
gave my fingers a little squeeze of warning, and I smiled and told her
how pleased I was to meet her.

Ryce seemed embarrassed by his mother's presence and kept an uneasy eye
on Louise.  "Until she phoned this afternoon, I had no idea that my
mother was in the vicinity," he told me. "Of course, it's wonderful to
have her here.  Mother knows that you were Susan's friend, hallie."

Anne Trench looked stunning tonight in velvet trousers that earned a
rich chestnut brown in the lamplight.  A double strand of jade and gold
beads was beautifilily set off against a pumpkin-colored silk jacket. As
it had been that morning, her silvery hair was wound into a mound on top
of her head, held with a jade comb, and I noticed that her odd, tawny
eyes seemed darker than they had by morning light.  Altogether she was a
picture of self-assured elegance.  Beside her, Louise seemed
artificial-someone putting on an act.  I wondered again what the act
covered up.

Against the wall near Anne's chair stood a small piano, and I perched on
its bench to be near her.  Richard made an elaborate gesture of kissing
her hand-something she accepted with accustomed ease.

Apparently Louise had chosen to cook dinner herself this evening, and
Ryce went out to help her and to get us all a glass of sherry.  Richard
sat down on Anne's other side and began to ask about her painting.  My
own surprise at her presence here still left me speechless.  From what
she had told me that morning on the island about cherishing her solitude
there, I hadn't expected her to leave it for a social evening.

Now I had time to look around the lovely room.  Gray-blue paneling ran a
third of the way up the walls, with light-colored plaster rising to the
molding at ceiling height.  A huge fireplace, probably once used for
cooking, was set into a chimney that I had seen running up the outside
of the house.  The furnishings were comfortable and simple, reflecting
the understated style of a bygone time.  The beige pile of a Chinese rug
had been carved into magnolia and dogwood shapes at each corner and
along the borders.

My interest, however, returned inevitably to the woman who sat straight
in a high-backed armchair that would have protected her from drafts in
an earlier day.  Her artist's hands, bare of rings and scrubbed almost
free of paint stains, lay quietly in her lap, though I suspected that
tonight the inner woman was anything but quiet.  Where I'd sensed
tranquillity in her that morning, there was little now.  Once, when I
caught her eye, I saw a brightness in her face that suggested nervous
anticipation.  Anne Trench was here for a purpose, and when she was
ready she would let us know what it was.

Though the food was delicious, dinner proved to be an uncomfortable
meal.  A golden brown, roasted chicken, oldfashioned scalloped potatoes,
and tender new peas, all served with a white wine that had been chosen
with care, should have relaxed us and brought on easy conversation.  But
no one was at ease, including me.

Though Richard had been placed on Louise's right, her behavior toward
him was circumspect, and she made an effort to include Ryce in her
conversation.  Until the matter of the will was settled, she knew
exactly which side of her bread was buttered, it seemed.

Whatever Ryce felt was carefully hidden tonight; he was simply a rather
colorless host who kept an eye on the needs of his guests.  Once I
caught a look of sadness as his eyes rested on Louise, but no anger
showed in him tonight.

Strawberries and cream, and sipping a truity liqueur, did Anne place her
hands beside her plate and lean forward a little.  The moment had come.

"As I've told you, Ryce she began, "Corey Orion has been helping me on
Cabbage Island."

"I don't know why you didn't stay with us" Louise broke in.

Anne continued as though she hadn't spoken.  "I like Corey. I'm sure
that he and Susan would have married if she had lived."

"Entirely unsuitable" Louise said.

This time Anne seemed to notice and dismiss her.

Before she could continue, however, Ryce spoke quietly. "We don't know
that Susan is dead, Mother, though it's likely that she is."

" And you probably never will know, if what Corey believes is true,"
Anne said.

I set down my small glass carefully.  Now I knew what was coming.

"Corey has told me something very disturbing," Anne went on.  "He
believes that Susan disappeared down that hole near the Trench and
Cameron houses that they call the Pirate's Pit."

I held my breath as I looked around the table.  As might be expected
from a lawyer, Richard's face gave nothing away. Louise looked stunned,
and Ryce a little sick.

Anne, sitting next to Ryce, put a hand on his arm.  "I'm sorry.  I know
how much Susan meant to you.  But she meant a great deal to me, too, and
these strong feelings of Corey's

A healthy young woman doesn't just disappear into thin air.

"What made him jump to so terrible a conclusion?" Richard asked.

"I don't think we should be discussing such a thing tonight" Louise
broke in.  "We have a guest present, after all."

"There's not much more to say," Anne told her.  "Besides, as Ryce has
pointed out, hallie Knight is an old friend of Susan's. I'm not sure
Corey knows why he feels this way.  It seems to be a conviction that has
been growing in him for a long time. Today he decided to tell me."

So Corey had been back to see her, after our early visit.

Louise shivered-rather a theatrical shiver, I thought.  "This is really
dreadful.  Does Corey think she fell down that hole in the dark?"

"He thinks she was murdered," Anne said, and this time her voice broke.
But when Royce started to speak, she raised her hand.  "Corey has a
special sensitivity that has led him to this conviction.  What he sensed
finally became too strong, too real, for him to hold back any longer."

"Just today, he told me the same thing.  He seemed convinced and I
believed him, too."

Louise made a dismissive flick with her fingers.  "I would never trust
Corey Orion.  Is he actually suggesting someone pushed Susan down the
pit?"

At the head of the table, Ryce looked pale and ill.  He spoke quietly to
Anne, ignoring his wife.  "I understood why Susan loved Corey, but I was
uncertain about her marrying him.  I didn't want that, but if they had
gone ahead with their plans, I would have backed them.  However, this
idea Corey has ...  I can't accept-"

"It's pointless to stir all this up" Louise protested.  "None of this
can help Susan now.  Or ever be proved."

Anne turned to look at her daughter-in-law, and I could see the distaste
in her eyes.  "If what Corey believes is true, it means that someone who
is guilty of murder is getting away with it, and is still free.  That is
something I find hard to accept."

Richard echoed Louise's words.  "But why now?  It's been two years since
Susan disappeared."

"Perhaps because Nicholas sent for hallie and she is here," Anne said,
"so everything is surfacing, reaching critical mass. Perhaps someone
already feels less than safe and Corey is somehow the recipient of
knowledge that person wishes he didn't have."

"The reason Nick sent for hallie," Richard said, "Is because he decided
to change his will.  Now he's done it.  Except for a small legacy to
you, Ryce, everything is to go to Mrs.  Knight. And this-"

I interrupted his words.  "I've already told the captain that I won't
accept this.  I don't want anything to do with his money.

"I understand how you feel," Richard said.  "But I must go along with
the captain's wishes; he'll leave everything to charity if you refuse."

Anne said nothing, but the look she turned on Louise was sharp with
amusement.  I realized with a start that Anne Trench would like nothing
better than to see her son's wife thoroughly unhappy.  So, she and her
ex-husband had one goal in conunon.

"You didn't tell me it had gone this far!" Louise snapped at Richard.

For once he seemed to lose patience with her.  "He's my client and
there's nothing I can do about it.  Anyway, I've only just gotten the
paperwork done and he insisted on secrecy until now.

The subject of Susan and the pit seemed to have been quickly lost, once
Richard had brought up the will.

Anne, at least, had endured enough.  She rubbed her forehead above her
eyes and spoke to Ryce.  "I'm very tired.  If you don't mind, I'd like
to go up to my room.  Mrs.  Knight, will you come with me, please?"

Ryce went to help his mother rise from the table, though she hardly
needed assistance.  "I'll see you upstairs," he said.

She shook her head at him, though not unkindly.  "Mrs. Knight was
Susan's friend.  I'd like to talk with her." I went up with her gladly,
relieved to leave all those unpleasant people behind.

"Thank you for not giving me away," Anne said as we climbed the stairs.
"I didn't want anyone to know that Corey had brought you to see me this
morning."

I wanted to ask her why, but her manner invited no questions.  She came
up the stairs briskly, belying her own words about being tired.  She
paused only once to catch her breath, looking down at me on the step
behind her.

"couldn't take any morel" she said.  "It's as though Susan's loss
doesn't count beside money."

When we reached the upper hall, she went to a closed door and opened it.
Her bedroom was at the back of the house, and I supposed that by
daylight it would overlook lawns and flower beds, perhaps with a glimpse
of the sound.  The walls were pale blue, the lower paneling a pinky
gray.  Unusual, but somehow quieting.  A graceful four-poster was
covered by a quilt with a design of small blue flowers set against a
creamy background.  A chandelier held china globes from which oil
chimneys rose, though the light they gave off was electric.

Anne dropped gratefully into a wing-backed chair and waved me into
another alongside it.  "Ryce's first wife was ible f responsor much of
the restoration of this house.  I wish she could have lived to enjoy it.
I wouldn't have come here today, if it hadn't been for Corey.  I decided
to confront them with what he told me and watch their reaction, though
I'm not any the wiser.  They all seemed upset-especially my poor
son-though of course Richard always hides whatever he's feeling.  You
probably noticed that he has an eye for Louise-God knows why!"

There was nothing I could say, and Anne went on sadly.

"I feel sorry for Ryce.  He should never have been born to parents like
Nicholas and me.  Susan was a throwback-nothing like her father.  She
could hold her own, and never hesitated to speak her mind.  But of
course you know all that."

"I wonder why he married Louise?"

"He was lonely after his wife died.  And Louise can be charming when she
chooses.  She has beauty, sensuality.  I just hope she divorces him for
Richard."

I felt a little sick.  "Aren't there any happy marriages?"

"Things used to be different.  A woman raised any number of children,
and her job was in the home.  She accepted the fact that her husband
might have a roving eye, but they stayed together.  That was never for
me."

"Weren't you happy with Nicholas?"

"Deliriously.  For a while.  But he always seemed to need more than one
woman, and I couldn't put up with that. I couldn't take Carlina.  He was
more intensely interested in her than he was in the others, even though
Fergus was his friend."

"Have you ever been sorry that you left him?"

She rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.
"I missed him terribly at first.  I thought I couldn't live without him.
But of course I did, and I'm glad of it.  I've done much better with my
painting since he's been out of my life. Painting has always come first
with me."

I felt even more sorry for Ryce, who must have been pushed aside and
largely ignored by two high-voltage parents even when they were
together.  I wondered if that was happening to Dulcie now.

Anne opened her eyes and gave me a sharp look.  "I should never have had
a child.  If it weren't for Susan, I would regret that we had Ryce.
Nicholas wasn't much of a father.  And I ...

well, I have a good deal to regret.  Susan had something of both of us
in her-a volatile mixture that probably did her no good. hallie, are you
asking me these questions because of your own situation?  Corey told me
about your husband showing up on the beach today."

The rush of feeling-longing-that came whenever I thought of Paul was
beginning to frighten me.  If I gave in to it, there would be all the
more pain for me ahead.

"I've let him walk away from me twice," I said.  "I think he was ready
to apologize and ask me to take him back today, but I couldn't.  It
would have been on his terms, and I couldn't accept that."

"What happened to drive you apart in the first place?  Do you mind
telling me?"

Perhaps Anne was the one person I could talk to, and I told her what had
happened in California.

"That sounds familiar," she said when I was finished explainin "I was so
angry I could have killed Carlina.  But of course I didn't.  I painted
all those wild pictures instead.  In my art I killed them both-over and
over.  Then I went away, and I've never looked back. Oh, I still loved
him, and I did a lot of suffering for a while.  But I wouldn't give in
to the sort of life he wanted, and I would never have gone back.  My
painting has been stronger for what I've been through.  I believe that
I've done better work because I know what pain is like."

"I don't have your outlet.  I don't have a talent that consumes me as
yours has.  I wish I did."

"You have a life.  You have work-whatever it is.  And there will be
other men, as there were for me.  There's always that one we never
forget, but I haven't been lonely.  Now I'm glad to be past all that.  I
enjoy being alone."

I hesitated and then ventured, "I remember a review I read some time ago
about a show of your paintings held in Los Angeles."

"I remember.  The critic said my work lacked heart."

"I haven't seen enough of your work to judge it." I said.  "Were you
upset by the review?"

"Of course I was upset.  I hadn't learned then to let words flow over me
and not stick.  Susan made a difference in my life. She helped me to
find heart in my work.  For a while, at least. You didn't know, but I
was seeing Susan frequently all the time she was in college.  I didn't
want anyone to know because word might reach Nicholas."

"Why should you have cared by that time?"

"Because if he'd known how to get in touch with me, he might have asked
me to come back and I might have gone. Then it would have started all
over again." She sounded surprisingly wistful.  "I wonder if he ever
thinks of me-of the way things used to be."

"He does" " I told her.  "Only today he was talking about you.

He said he loved you and he loved Carl'na.  She came over to see him,
and I think he still cares about her.  So you were probably wise to get
away."

"Love that's worth anything can't be divided!" Scorn cut through her
words.  "Do you know the woman your husband had an affair with?"

"Only by sight and reputation.  She's an actress-beautiful, dramatic,
lively-all the things I'm not."

"That sounds familiar, too.  They marry us for what we are, and then
they look for someone who is nothing like us.  Or they try to make us
over into what they think they want."

Paul had never done that.  He had built me up from the beginning, taught
me to believe in myself.  Encouraged me. Loved me.

Anne was watching my expression.  "Let him go, hallie.  In the long run
you'll find he wasn't worth keeping.  Besides, how do you know she was
the first?"

"It couldn't have happened before, or I'd have known!" I cried.

Her smile was wry.  "You are an innocent!"

So here was the advice I needed-had asked for.  Advice I would certainly
take.

"YOU couldn't look more unhappy," she said.  "But that's part of it. And
you'll come through-I can see the strength in you. Any children?"

I shook my head.  "It would be harder if there was a child. But perhaps
it would be better, too.  I'd have brought something to love out of our
marriage."

Anne made an impatient sound.  "Women always think in terms of cute
little babies to adore and give themselves to.  But the babies grow up
into impossible adults with whom we have little in common."

"Poor Royce." I echoed her words.

She shrugged.  "But there was Susan and that was worth everything.  I
loved her more than I've ever loved anyone.  However, she didn't turn
out as well as I hoped.  There was a wild streak in her that reminded me
of Nicholas.  Though perhaps she'd have settled down if she'd married
Corey."

"I loved her, tool" I said gently.  "She was the most exciting friend
I've ever had."

"And now we're left with the question of what happened to her.  Do you
think what Corey believes is true?"

I didn't know how to answer that.  I had only that moment of Corey's
despair to go on.  "What if it is true?"

"There's no point in speculating.  Unless we can find real evidence
about what happened-" She broke off and I had nothng else to offer.

"Why didn't you want them to know we'd met earlier today?"

"It would have hurt Ryce more to realize that I hadn't let him know that
I was here, but had asked to see you."

"There must be hurt enough about this change the captain wants to make
in his will-a gift I truly can't accept."

"I only wish Ryce would stop holding everything in and tell his father
or"

just then someone knocked and Anne called, "Come in."

Louise opened the door and stared coldly at both of us.

Richard wants to know if you're ready to leave, Mrs. Knight.  He has a
long drive back to Wilmington."

"Of course," I said.  "I'll come down right away." I held out my hand to
Anne.  "Thank you.  May I come to see you sometime?"

She surprised me by leaning over and kissing my cheek. "Anytime you
wish.  I wanted to meet you because you were Susans friend.  But now I'd
like to know you.  just think about the things I've said."

I knew I would.  Before I left with Louise, however, I remembered
something Dulcie had said, and I tossed it out as if in passing.

"Dulcie claims that Susan's spirit visits this house.  Have you ever
felt anything strange?"

Louise turned so white I thought she was going to faint.

Finally she managed to speak.  "Why would she say a thing like that?
It's foolish."

Anne commented calmly, giving her a chance to recover, "Sometimes
children are closer to other worlds than we are. And Susan's father does
live here."

"We mustn't keep Richard waiting" Louise said, and I followed her down
the stairs.

Nevertheless, I would wonder more than once why Louise had turned so
pale.

When Richard dropped me off at the captain's and I came upstairs, I saw
no one about.  The captain's door was closed, and the screen Mrs.  Orion
often put up at night was nearby, which meant that Mrs.  Orion's cot was
in place.  She liked to sleep where she could hear any movement he might
make.

I went directly to my room and discovered that all of Anne's paintings
had been removed during the evening.  Since Corey was at work, Mrs.
Orion must have done this herself, and I was grateful.

Since I didn't feel sleepy, I put on a robe and slippers and sat down to
read for a while.  The events of the day were still running through my
mind.  The very fact that Paul was sleeping not far away in one of those
houses on the beach left me unsettled. I needed to take Anne's words to
heart and put an end to everything between Paul and me.

But I had made an end, hadn't I?  I needed to ignore the fact that he
was here and manage to get through the next few days before I went home
to California.  I needn't see or speak to him again.  A clean break was
the best way.  Anne's advice, however painful, was wise and practical.

There was just one thing I wanted to do before I went to bed.  I opened
the suitcase in my closet, folded back Dulcie's old SSweater, and took
out the second geode to set it beside the one on Susan's bookcase.  It
was a mirror image.  The markings and shadings exactly matched where the
stone had been split apart.

There was just one difference.  The rock that held Susan's books upright
was sparkling and clean, its violet and deepening purple facets afire in
lamplight.  Such stones were never scrubbed, or even dusted.  They could
be restored to luster by dipping in clear water to wash away dust.

The stone Dulcie had taken was dull and dirty, smudged with
fingerprints, uncared for.  She must have taken it after Susan was gone.
By that time no one would have noticed and she could have easily taken
it from this room.  She must have played with it and she must have
soiled it before her conscience told her that she was stealing, whether
Susan was here or not.  So then she'd wrapped it up and put it out of
sight in her chest.  Though in that case, why hadn't she simply returned
it?  Doors were always left open at the captain's house, and Dulcie came
and went as she pleased.

There was something wrong here-some puzzle I hadn't found an answer to.

To distract myself, I tried to read one of the mysteries in the
bookcase, but I kept thinking about the geode and couldn't concentrate
on the story.

Before I gave up and went to bed, I stood again at the window that
overlooked the clearing.  The light standard was on, and I could see the
entire expanse well enough-though not back into the tree shadows where
the Pirate's Pit had sucked its botton-dess tunnel into the ground.  The
swing hung motionless and nothing stirred.  I couldn't even think about
that place without a surprising sense of horror.

I was about to turn away, when movement near the Cameron house caught my
attention.  Not one person but two lingered in the shadow of the house.
A man and a woman seemed to be talking together earnestly, though I
sensed at once that this was no lovers' meeting.  There seemed to be a
tension in the way they stood.  I went quickly to turn out my own lights
and then returned to the window.  Through the opening I caught only the
faint whisper of voices, so I could hear no words.  After a moment the
figures separated, and one ran up the steps to the porch of the Cameron
house.  I glimpsed Carlina briefly before she disappeared inside.  When
the man stepped into the open and came toward the captain's house, I saw
that it was Corey. Oddly I felt both relieved and a little disturbed.
Tomorrow I would simply ask him about what I'd seen.

I lay in bed with the lights off, but my mind wouldn't quiet right away.
Bits and pieces of my day persisted in replaying themselves, among them
that moment when I'd looked into the amethyst lights and Louise's name
had come into my mind as though written on a screen.  There had been
almost a message of warning there-yet nothing had happened tonight at
Gulls Cove to support something so nebulous.  There had been only her
white paleness at the mention of Susan's spirit.

Before I fell asleep, I saw Paul's face again, the way he used to look
at me and hadn't looked for-how long?  Had the indications of what was
happening been there all along?  Had I been too blind to see?

Once more my pillow dampened under my cheek before I finally fell
asleep.

When I awoke it was nearly nine, and I felt drugged and sluggish.  A
shower woke me up, and I dressed and went out on the deck.  Mrs.  Orion
came from the direction of the captain's room to greet me.

"He's asking for you, Mrs.  Knight.  Shall I bring your breakfast to his
room?"

I thanked her and went across to the captain's open door.  He was
dressed in his silk gown, again with a scarf tied at his throat. His
eyes looked more alive, less sunken than when I'd first seen him.

"Good morning," I said.  "You're looking a lot better today."

He waved my words aside.  "What happened at Guns Cove last night?"

I answered carefully, wanting to let nothing slip about Anne. "Louise
served us a very good dinner.  We talked a bit, and then Richard drove
me home.  It wasn't very exciting."

"You discussed my will"l suppose?"

"The subject certainly came up.  I don't think anyone is happy about
it-including me."

"I've signed it," he said.  "It's a working will now.  You will need to
stay here for a little while longer, Hanie, so that you can decide what
you want to do and where you want to live."

"My home is in California, and I intend to go back there.

besides you're very much alive and looking better with each passing day.
The money's not anyone's until you no longer have a use for it, which I
suspect will not be for a long time.  So I'm

I'm afraid your will must take care of itself.  I've already told
Richard that I want nothing to do with it.  Give it to your charities,
if you need to be so unkind to your son."

"It's not Ryce I'll be hurting.  I won't have Louise touching what
belonged to me."

Mrs.  Orion brought my breakfast of fluffy hotcakes and coffee, and I
busied myself with the food.

The captain wheeled his chair close to my table, and his silent
attention was too critical to ignore.

"You can't have everything exactly the way you want it," I said at last.
"I'm not serving under you, captain.  You can't give me orders and
expect me to obey."

"What if I leave everything to Carlina?" His eyes were bright with
malice.

"And wreck her marriage completely?  Do you think she'll love you for
that?"

"could leave it to Fergus."

"You can leave it to the moon if you like.  I'm going to phone
Wilmington and find out about a plane home."

"There's someone you haven't considered" he went on, ignoring my plans.
"You haven't thought of Dulcie Cameron."

"To leave your money to?"

"No, no, she's a lonely little girl who is sometimes neglected by her
parents.  She's become quite attached to you.  Your leaving so soon, so
abruptly, will make her feel betrayed all over again.  She has already
lost Susan."

"Children give and take their affections easily.  She's known me for
only a few days; she'll forget me in a week."

"You could at least stay for the school pageant she'll be in. She's told
me how interested you are in her dancing."

I finished my last hotcake in irritated silence.  My business with the
captain was done, whether he liked it or not.  I needn't listen to his
cunning schemes to get me to stay.  As far as I was concerned, there was
no further point to anything he might say.

Not having received the response he desired, he wheeled away from me
angrily, and I hoped he had given up.  As I might have expected, he had
not.

"There's still my other purpose in bringing you here, Halliel" he tossed
over his shoulder.  "You were supposed to help me find out what happened
to Susan.  I thought you might bring a fresh eye, a new sensitivity, to
what we've all been looking at for so long.  After what Corey told me
yesterday, I can't just let this go."

It was a shock to think that Corey had risked upsetting this sick old
man with his terrible theory.

The captain wheeled himself back to me and saw my face. "It's all right,
hallie.  Whatever the truth may be, it's better for me to know than to
die without knowing.  Corey thinks it's intuition, but I think there
must be indications of some sort that took him in that direction.  He
likes you and he doesn't trust me.  I opposed his marriage to Susan, and
he's never forgiven me for that.  I like Corey, but he'd have been the
wrong husband for her.  She'd have been a very rich woman and Corey
doesn't care about money.  They would have grown apart.  It couldn't
have worked out.  He was angry when he told me-almost as though he
blamed me for her death."

"That doesn't make any sense" I said.

This outpouring had tired the captain and he slumped in his chair. AN
the lines in his face had deepened.

"Help me," he said.

I raised my hands in protest.  "I'm not able to help myself, let alone
anyone else.  I'm an outsider here, and I have no idea about what might
have happened.  There's no thread to pick up, nowhere to start."

"Start with Corey.  I think he's been afraid to explore his own
suspicions.  Now I gather that he's telling everyone in order to get it
into the open, hoping someone may betray something. Pool your efforts.
Murder doesn't happen in a vacuum.  It's committed by a person who has
friends, confidants, enemies.  Someone close to this person knows
something.  During my years in the navy I had to track down problems
that were caused by men under me.  It can be done.  I'm too old to make
the effort now, but you can be my eyes, my legs.  Please, hallie.  My
wits are still working."

I hadn't the heart to cut him off with another refusal.  "Let me think
about it," I said reluctantly.  I was the one who had thought everything
should be brought out into the open, but now that so much had been, I'd
begun to feel alarmed.  What the captain had said about murder was true.

"Don't call about your plane yet," he said.

I promised that I wouldn't call today, and asked if he wanted me to get
Mrs.  Orion to come and help him.

He shook his head.  "Not now.  I want to be quiet for a while."

I picked up my tray and carried it out to the kitchen.  Mrs. Orion was
working at the sink and she looked around at me.

"He's all right" I told her quickly.  "He just wants to be alone for a
little while."

She nodded, but when I started away, she stopped me. "Could I talk with
you for a moment?"

"Of course," I said, though there was nothing I wanted to discuss right
now with Mrs.  O.

"Let's sit out on the deck." She led the way outside, and I had the
feeling that she (fidn't want to be overheard, though who was around who
might hear her?  She pulled chairs into the shade and we sat down next
to each other.  I wondered if she wanted to discuss Corey's theory, but
she had something else on her mind.

"I want to talk about Dulcie Cameron, Mrs.  Knight" she said.  "I'm very
worried about her."

I was both relieved and concerned, and I settled down to listen.

Mrs.  Orion picked up her knitting and began working, watching her
needles as she talked.  "I can't help but notice how unhappy and lonely
that little girl is" she said.  "I know her mother loves her-Carlina is
always arranging for her to do whatever she wants-but Mr.  Cameron has
been a difficult man for all the years that I've been here.  Perhaps
this is none of my business, but I think both Mrs.  Cameron and Dulcie
are afraid of him at times."

"I've had the same feeling," I agreed.  "But I don't know what can be
done."

"It's his black Scottish temper.  I'm sure he loves them both and he
would never willingly hurt them when he's in his right mind.  Dulcie
hasn't any friends her own age nearby until the summer people come.  And
I don't know how she is with children at her school.  Susan was always
good to her.  She never talked down to her, and she knew how to make
life seem exciting.  After Susan ...  went away, Dulcie changed.  She's
not as open and friendly as she used to be.  What I thought-" Mrs. Orion
looked at me, hesitant now and apologetic.  "What I thought was that you
might be her friend.  Maybe take her someplace interesting.  Give her
something to look forward to.

just be someone she can talk to."

"I'll do what I can" I said.  "But, as you know, I don't expect to be
here much longer.  I've had the feeling that something specific is
troubling Dulcie, but she doesn't know me well enough to talk to me, so
I can't ask her questions.  Perhaps Corey could take us on a boat trip
while I'm still here." I didn't mention Anne Trench, since I didn't know
what Corey had told his mother about Anne.  "Anyway, I'll do what I
can."

"Thank you, Mrs.  Knight." She got up, clutching her knitting to her
chest, and walked to the railing, where she could look out over the
sound.  She spoke without turning around.  "Corey says he told you what
he believes about Susan."

"Yes-he seems to be telling everyone.  Did he give you any reason why he
thinks this?"

"No.  I don't think he has any.  Sometimes my son seems much younger
than his years.  He holds in his feelings, and he won't open up and talk
to me."

Though Mrs.  Orion herself seemed to be opening up more than ever, her
manner made me uneasy, and I wondered what she might be holding back.

"Did you want Corey to marry Susan?" I asked.

She startled me by bursting into tears.  "I wanted it as much as Susan
and Corey did!  I would have loaned them money to run away and make a
start somewhere else.  In fact, they were already making plans when she
disappeared, plans the captain didn't know about.  He wasn't fair to
Corey-or to Susan, either."

"What about Susan's father?  Couldn't he have taken her side?"

Mrs.  Orion's disim'ssive expression told me what she thought of Ryce.
"Louise didn't want Susan to marry!  If Susan had married and had
children, the money would have all gone to them!"

For a few moments she had nothing more to say.  Then she began to muse
aloud.  "It's a funny thing-about Mrs.  Louise Trench.  You know, her
family lived around here and they weren't much.  Her father drank a lot,
and Mrs.  Trench's mother left him and took her little girl away.  I
knew them back then. They must have had a pretty rough time, so the
daughter grew up wanting to be somebody else.  I understand that what
little family she had are gone now, so she needn't own up to them. Of
course, she was a beauty, even as a little girl, and the way she looked
attracted the wrong sort of man-that is, until she met Mr.  Ryce.  The
captain didn't want his son to marry her, but for once Mr.  Ryce went
his own way.  More's the pity.  I suppose I shouldn't be telling you all
this.  I only meant to talk about Dulcie."

What Mrs.  Orion was saying came as some surprise, since Richard had
told me that Ryce believed that Louise's family had come from the north
and were well-to-do.

Mrs.  Orion folded her knitting to indicate that she was through
talking.  She excused herself and returned to her work in the kitchen,
leaving me with a new picture of Loulse-a confused picture that
indicated untruths on her part.  If her family had lived around here,
why wouldn't Ryce know?  Perhaps he did and didn't care?  Her early life
had probably made her grasping and formed her into the woman she now
was.

For the rest of the day I mostly marked time.  Corey didn't appear and
Dulcie remained indoors.  I had nothing more to say to the captain, and
I didn't return to his room.  I had no wish to go down to the beach
again, for fear of seeing Paul, so I was left with time on my hands and
too many busy thoughts.

Mrs.  Orion suggested I might take a walk, which sounded like a good
idea.  After a light, early supper alone on the deck, I borrowed her
Chevy and drove to the south end of the island, where I would get out
and walk.  She had told me that Serenity Point was a wonderful place to
watch the sunsethe'd done it many times herself.

Any sort of activity appealed to me.  I followed a central road, driving
slowly so as to look at the rows of houses on both the soundside and
oceanside, which fascinated me with their varlety and individual colors
and shapes.  all of the houses were different until I reached the end of
the island, where a few condominiums had been built, with the Joined
structures looking exactly like one another.  Where the pavement ended,
I left the car and walked over rough grass and uneven ground.

The tide was out and the sandbars stood free of water.  Gulls moved
about, picking up whatever they could scavenge, or flying in low swoops
over the land.  Several pelicans flew past-a pinky brown, far more
graceful in the air than on the ground. There were little shore birds,
too, though I didn't know their names.

It was the sky that enthralled me most.  Fluffy white clouds wore
pinkish trimmings, while toward the west yellow streaks had been painted
up the sky.  The reds of sunset were gathering near the horizon, and to
my delight I saw that a moon was rising, pale but still visible in the
fading light.  Sunset and moonrise at the same moment!

A strong wind blew in from the ocean, bringing with it the sharp, salty
smell of the Atlantic and the voice of the surf, which sounded louder
than ever.  I felt braced and a bit more courageous.  Of course I could
meet whatever lay ahead, even when it came to Paul.  For the moment
there was nothing I needed to do.  I could simply breathe in the
wonderful sea air and let the peace of the scene around me take over.  I
could just be.  The vanishing rim of the sun and the rising, humpbacked
moon reminded me that the universe went on sublimely and small human
woes were not its center.

Feeling completely free and alone, I raised my arms and turned about
slowly, almost dancing-as Carlina had danced in the Assembly Building.
Then, as I turned, with my eyes wid-, open, I saw that I wasn't alone,
after all.  Not far away a woman was walking in my direction.  She was
tall and slender, dressed in jeans and a bulky sweater with reindeer
prancing across its front.  Her short black hair was curly, so the wind
hardly ruffled a lock.  She was striking rather than beautiful, and the
entire look of her was so familiar that I recognized her at once in the
sunset glow-even at a distance.  I was startled to find her here, of all
places, since my long acquaintance with her was entirely on a television
screen.

She saw me and called out, "Isn't this heavenly!"

When she reached me, she held out her hand and I took it warn-Ay.
"You're Brenda Wilshire," I said.

"Yes.  And you're hallie Knight."

It wasn't surprising that I should recognize her, but I didn't
understand how she could know who I was.

She must have read my expression, for she laughed-a musical, familiar
sound.  The series she'd starred in was the only soap opera I'd ever
watched.

"I know who you are because Topsail's pretty smahl" she said.
"Especially during the off-season.  I grew up here and Susan Trench was
my buddy for years.  Once we were even in love with the same boy when we
were in our teens, though I'm afraid Susan won out.  She would have
married him, I expectif she'd lived."

Corey, I thought.  "You sound as though you're sure she's dead."

"I saw Corey today and I know he believes that, so I'm up on what's
going on.  He told me that captain Nick sent for you."

My brief state of exuberance disappeared and I shivered    in the ocean
wind.

"You're cold," Brenda said.  "Look-I'm staying with my aunt in one of
the beach houses.  How about coming back with me for a hot drink and
some talk?"

I accepted with pleasure, and we returned to where she had left her car
near Mrs.  Orion's.  I was still astonished that she knew Corey and had
known Susan.  I didn't want to let her out of my sight.

As I followed her car back along the central road, I thought about what
I knew of Brenda Wilshire.  For years she'd played slightly villainous
roles, always trying to take the handsome leading man away from some
lovely, innocent young heroine. Round We Go always had a good story
line, and once I'd even written an episode for them, though Brenda
Wilshire hadn't been in that one.  Recently I'd read some unpleasant
scuttlebutt about her.  She'd thrown one too many of her famous
tantrums, and had been dropped from the show only a few months ago.
Rumor had it that she was having trouble finding another job.  I knew
how hard it could be for an actress in television.  Gossip always
flourished around the famous, what was said often exaggerated out of all
proportion to the truth.  And I knew that because her face was
identified with one role, it might be hard for her to get another job. I
liked her immediately, and was happy to be following up on this chance
acquaintance.

I hadn't paid much attention to where we were heading, because I'd been
simply tailing her car, but when she pulled up before a house on the
oceanside and I drew in beside her, I looked out my window with a sense
of shock.

The house she'd stopped in front of was the one built as an addition to
one of the towers.  I had seen it from the beach when Paul disappeared
into it.  This was the last house on Top'I Island that I wanted to enter
and I didn't know what to do.

renda was waiting for me on the ramp that led to a door at the side of
the tower house.  When I was slow about following, she caned out to me,
"Come on, hallie.  This is it."

There was no way out unless I explained what I had no intention of
explaining.  I left any car and stood for a moment looking up at the
house I had seen from the beach-the addition to the tower was a
full-sized house in itself.  I followed Brenda up the side ramp to the
second-floor entrance.  Inside, I was introduced to Mrs.  Meg Varidy,
Brenda's aunt.  Paul was nowhere in sight, and I began to breathe evenly
again.  He was probably out and I needn't worry.

The living room was large and bright, with an opening into the tower at
the far end.  I need only relax and enjoy this unusual setting.

Mrs.  Varidy wore comfortable-looking slacks and a blue shirt.  Her
manner was friendly as she recognized my name and shook my hand,
remarking that she knew the captain.  No one mentioned that Paul Knight
was rooming here.  I hoped they wouldn't make the connection.

"Do you like hot chocolate?" Brenda asked.  "I'm off anything stronger
just now.  That's what got me in trouble with the studio.  One scotch
too many."

I'd seldom met anyone more open and unselfconscious.  If Paul would just
prove to be somewhere else, everything might be fine.

"We'll be up in the tower room" Brenda told her aunt.  "If Mr. Townsend
comes in, ask him to Join us.  And whistle when the chocolate's ready,
dear.  I'll come and carry it up."

Townsend!  I was climbing steps that wound up steeply for two flights,
with a small square room at each level.  Somehow I went through the
motions of climbing, of admiring the last room at the top that Brenda
told me she'd annexed for herself as a child. Apparently her parents had
divorced when she was small, and she'd come here to live with her aunt.
We had that in common, but Mrs.  Varldy was nothing like the aunt whom
I'd been forced upon.  I looked out each of the four high windows from
which all of flat Topsoil could be viewed.  It was a little like looking
at a relief map.  I could see the long stretches of the maritime forest,
the rows of little houses, the beach and ocean on one side and the sound
on the other.  all the while the name Townsend was running through my
mind.  Townsend was my maiden name and I felt thoroughly upset that he
had used it.

As soon as I sat down in a somewhat battered armchair, I managed to find
my tongue.  "Mr.  Townsend?" I repeated.

"Yes.  Paul Townsend.  He's a great guy." Brenda plumped up faded green
cushions on the sofa and curled her legs under her. "I had dinner with
him last night at the Soundside restaurant.  I like him, though he's a
bit mysterious about why he's come to Topsail.  Richard Merrick arranged
with my aunt for him to stay with us a few days, and Paul and I seemed
to hit it off right away.

I examined my surroundings carefully, silently.  This must have been
used as a family room at one time.  The furnishings were comfortable and
old, and there was a table and a 9 corner bookcase, well packed with
books with bright jackets.  A braided, oval rug covered part of the
floor, and where there was wall space between windows, pictures had been
hung.  They were all professional glossies of Brenda Wilshire-smiling
wickedly, scowling, always enticing.  There were even two old magazine
covers that featured her distinctive face not beautiful, but arresting.

all this I managed to take in, my hands clasped in my lap so they
wouldn't betray me by shaking.  New anger with Paul was beginning to
rise in me, and I knew it couldn't be stopped.  I'd have to vent it
quietly.

"Mr.  Townsend is not Mr.  Townsend," I said evenly. "Townsend is my
maiden name, and Paul is my husband, Paul Knight."

Brenda unwound herself and sat up.  "Oh, gosh!  I have put my foot in
it, haven't I?  Now I can understand why you've looked upset ever since
I mentioned his name.  I never guessed, and for once Topsail gossip
didn't cover our visitor."

There wasn't much I could say, and she went on after a moment.

"Look, hallie, if you'd rather not stay here, we could go somewhere
else."

I smiled a little too brightly.  "Of course I'll stay.  I'm glad we've
met, and I hope we can talk about Susan.  What was she like as a little
girl?"

Brenda was clearly relieved to shift the focus from Paul, and she began
to talk about the young Susan I had never known, though the nature of
the child seemed to match what I knew of the woman.  Susan must have
been spunky, mischievous, rebellious

"She was always full of schemes" Brenda said.  "After the captain's wife
left, and Corey came with his mother, he and I be   came faithful
followers with Susan as our leader.  I know you've seen something of
Corey since you've been here.  He's told me a little about you.  You
seem to have made quite an impression in that house." I said nothing,
waiting for her to go on.

"As kids, the three of us were inseparable." She spoke in a musing
voice, remembering.  "We used to put on little shows on our own.  We
didn't need an audience.  Of course, Corey was always the hero and I was
the leading lady, but Susan made a wonderful villain and later on I used
to copy her mannerisms on television.  She even scared us some of the
time.  Nobody ever knew what she was going to do next.  And she could
get mad-could she ever!  Her ups and downs kept us going."

I added a memory of my own.  "I envied her for her independence and her
lack of fear about anything.  She never cared what anyone said or
thought."

"I know," Brenda said.  "I've heard her sass the captain, and he never
even scolded.  Only her grandmother could manage her."

"In college, Susan even leaned on me a little I told her.  "We were
about the same age, but I always felt years older.  She thought I was
the sensible one, and I thin k she needed a steadying hand in her life.
I'm glad I could give her that for a little while. Apparently she talked
to her grandfather about me, which is why I'm here now."

"I always liked her grandmother," Brenda said.  "In some ways Anne
Trench and Susan were a pair.  They were both rebels.  I used to feel
sorry for Susan's father sometimes-he was so out of it.  He didn't even
seem related to those two women, yet he was the captain's and Anne's
son, and Susan's father.  Though once when I was poking fun at him,
Susan told me to lay off. She said he could be pushed just so far, and
then watch out!  So I avoided criticizing him after that."

As she talked, something of the young Brenda, the woman I imagined she'd
been before becoming famous and successful, seemed to shine through. Her
look was one I'd seldom seen on TV-open and young.  "You know, we even
had a secret meeting place that the grown-ups didn't know about. Or at
least I don't think they did.  I wonder if anyone goes there anymore. Of
course, this was after Anne had moved away, and Corey and his mother had
come.  That's when we became a team.  Ask Corey to show you our secret
room sometime."

Footsteps sounded on the steep, circular stairs to the tower, and I
froze.

Brenda jumped up.  "I didn't want Aunt Meg to bring up our cups.  She
hates these stairs."

She ran to look down and then threw up her hands, stepping back to let
Paul carry up a tray with three cups of fragrant hot chocolate.  He set
it down on the game table and spoke to Brenda.

"I thought I'd join you" he said.  "If you don't mind." He didn't look
at me, though he knew very well that I was there.

Brenda brought a steaming cup over to me.  "I'm sorry," she said under
her breath.

Paul carried his own cup to the sofa and sat down, with Brenda settling
herself at the other end.  She made no innocent pretext of introducing
us.

"Am I crashing a party?" he asked.

I knew very well that no one ever minded when it was Paul Knight who did
the crashing, and I said nothing in response.

After a moment, Brenda looked at me and jumped up.  "Oh my God, there's
something I need to tell Aunt Meg" she announced and clattered off down
the stairs.

I didn't want to be alone with Paul, but there I was.  As I sipped foamy
chocolate, burning my tongue, I felt trapped and completely helpless.

"hallie," he said in that voice that had always mesmerized me, "you
can't keep running away from me forever, you know."

"I'm not the one who has run away," I told him.  I stirred dark liquid
and watched the steam rise.

"I'm sorry, " he said.  "I'm sorry about everything."

sorry is such an easy word.  "I'm not" I told him flatly.  "I needed to
find out.  It had to happen sooner or later, didn't it?

Though it's hard to get used to, when I thought you were someone I knew.
How many were there before Carol?"

That was my hurt striking out, echoing Anne's words.  I didn't really
believe it had happened before.  And yet-why not?  What did I really
know about Paul Knight, after all?

He flushed so darkly, looked so angry, that I thought he might get up
and walk out again.  At least there was satisfaction for me in making
him angry.  I wanted to hurt him, as I'd been hurt.  He stayed where he
was, however, crossing his knees as though he meant to settle for a
while.  One long-fingered hand hung loosely over the arm of the sofa.  I
remembered his hands touching me gently, lovingly.  When he rubbed the
bridge of his nose, the gesture was achingly familiar.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

When I answered, I was pleased with my voice smooth as silk,
unemotional.  "I'll be here on the island for a few more days.  When I
go back to California, I'll pack up my things and find a smaller
apartment.  And I'll look for a new job, so we needn't meet at the
office.  Will that suit you?"

He'd always been good at hiding his feelings when he needed to.  His
quick anger with me was under control.  I could see him push it back.
"If that's the way you want it." He still made no move to leave, but sat
looking at me in that remote way that told me nothing.

I set my cup down on the game table too firmly, so that chocolate
spilled over the rim, and stood up. .  The tower room was small, but it
seemed a mile wide as I walked to the stairs and descended.  Brenda was
standing beside her aunt's chair, and she came toward me at once.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am.  I never dreamed-"

That word again!  People were always being sorry.  still, I couldn't
help but notice again what a striking-looking woman she was-just the
sort of woman Paul would find attractive. Why hadn't I minded before?
Why had I been so gullible and trusting?

"It's not your fault" I said.  "You didn't know me, or anything about
me, or you wouldn't have led me into this." I said good-bye to her aunt,
and Brenda walked me out to my car.  "If he hadn't come to us under that
other name .  .  ." she sa-(I.

"It's all right" I told her.  "I've had a chance to make things final. I
needed that."

She looked doubtful, hesitant.  "hallie-tell me.  Was it a good
marriage?"

"I thought it was" I said.  "I thought I had a wonderful marriage.  We
couldn't have been more in love, more compatible I broke off because I
was protesting too much.

She patted my arm as I got into the car.  "Then everything WILL WORK
ITSELF OUT.

DON'T do anything rash.  Do you mind if I phone so we can set a date to
meet again?"

"Of course," I said.  "I'd like that." Though the truth was I wasn't
sure I would.  After all, I'd freed them both to get together, if they
liked.

As I drove away, I looked into the mirror and saw her standing there on
the walk to the tower house.  In the highest windows of the tower no one
stood watching me go.

Brenda's words echoed in my mind.  Was it a good marriage?

Well, was it?  Suddenly I wasn't sure.

When I'd parked Mrs.  Orion's car at the captain's house, I didn't go
upstairs at once.  The last daylight had faded, and the big, lopsided
moon had the night to itself A hazy radiance bathed the clearing, except
for that one terrible spot lost under the trees.  A spot that drew me.
No one was about, and I went to stand near the wire fence that kept the
careless away from the pit.

Of course, there was nothing to be seen, only a black circle in the
ground that was darker than anything around it.  Weeds and vines grew to
the edge of a mysterious emptiness.  I could hear nothing in the
darkness around me, except wind in the trees that reached up past
windows of the captain's house.

A voice spoke at my elbow, startling me.  It was Dulcie, who seemed to
have a way of appearing without warning.

"What do you suppose happened to the things that went down that hole,
hallie?" Her words were hardly more than a whisper.

I hoped the question was an innocent one.  Surely Corey wouldn't have
told this child what he believed.

"I don't know," I said.  "I'm not the right person to ask."

"Corey says things that fall down there could wind up in the sound, or
even in the ocean, but nobody's ever found the place where the pit might
empty out.  I know Susan went down there."

"Did Corey tell you that?" I asked, shaken.

She shook her head vigorously.  I couldn't catch the bright color of her
hair in the moonlight, but I could catch ripple and movement.  "Oh, no!
I had a dream that told me.  In the dream Susan came out here in the
dark and fell into the hole."

"That would be hard to do, considering there's a fence around it."

"It would have been easy then.  The old fence was sagging in spots. It's
only been fixed up since ...  since .  .  ."

She faltered and I caught her up.  "Since when?"

"Since after I told Dad about my dream.  He said it was a dangerous
place, and he fixed the fence himself"

"After Susan disappeared?"

I could see the way her eyes widened as she stared at me.  "I don't
remember.  Maybe it was before."

"Then your dream couldn't be true, could it?  It was just a dream."

"It was an amethyst dream-and they're always true.  Susan told me that.
She told me that when I wanted to find something in a dream, I should
put amethyst near my head and ask a question before I go to sleep.  I
told you that."

"Is that why you took the geode-so you could use it for dreaming?"

She looked frightened, and I knew she was going to do her disappearing
act again.  I spoke quickly.

"Wait, Dulcie.  How would you like to go on a boat trip tomorrow?"

"Where to?  Cabbage Island?"

So Dulcie knew of Anne's presence.  "Would you like that?"

"To see Susan's grandmother, who painted all those pictures?"

I nodded.  "But she paints differently now.  I'll phone her and see if
it's all right to come."

The plan seemed to please her.  "That would be fun.  I'll come over
early."

"Not too early.  Let's say nine o'clock?"

"Okay," she said.  "See you then." And she ran off.

I went upstairs into a quiet house and encountered no one until ' Mrs.
Orion heard me and came out from behind her creen.

"I was taking a nap" she said.  "I think it's going to be a hard night."

" Is he upset?"

"He's usually upset about something, and that makes the pain worse.  But
he's been fretting a lot this evening.  Mostly about you." Her look was
critical.

"I'm sorry" I told her, and winced at the sound of the word.

"Did you have a good walk?"

"Yes-I went out to the end of the island, as you suggested.  I saw the
sun set and the moon rise at the same time.  It's a beautiful spot.  I
also met someone out there-Brenda Wish-re.  It seems that she knew
Susan."

Mrs.  Orion didn't look pleased.  "I remember her very well. She was a
wild one when she was younger.  And I didn't think she was always a good
friend to Susan."

"She told me that she and Susan and Corey were together a lot after you
moved here."

"That's right.  Those three didn't have many other friends on the
island.  When they got into their late teens, they ...  oh, never mind.
It's all so long ago.  Good night." She turned away so suddenly that I
wondered what thought had spooked her.

When I went into my room and turned on a lamp, the quiet welcomed me.
Over here, near the sound, where the island was wide, the crashing
rhythm of the surf couldn't be heard.

I refused to think of Paul.  I didn't want to think at all.  I dipped
into one of Susan's books on crystals and found it interesting enough
that I could force away thoughts about myself When I finally went to
bed, though, I was at the mercy of my own imagination.  Was it a good
marriage?  Brenda had asked.  Was a union that was taken for granted a
good marriage?

I remembered the beginning, when we'd had so much to tell each other.
Our days together were filled with discovery and a wonderful, fresh
excitement.  Was that what Paul wanted to find again with someone he
didn't know everything about?

If I'd allowed him to talk to me on the beach, what would he have said?
Never mind that.  What had happened had happened. Explanations,
apologies-none of that would help.  Trust had been broken, and without
trust in a marriage, there was nothing.  So I must do as I'd said.  I
would pack up my belongings in the apartment, pack up my life, and find
a new place to live, a new job.  And then what?

Life without Paul?

It must have been two o'clock by the time I finally got to sleep, only
to have a terrible dream grip me.  I was sinking into quicksand, and
there was no one around to help.  In a few moments I would sink below
the surface and I would be suffocated.  I couldn't cry out.  Though I
struggled, I couldn't make a sound.  I could only sink helplessly.

Of course, no dream, however dreadful, destroys the dreamer. I woke up
drenched in sweat and calling for Paul.  No one heard me.  No one came.

For a few moments I lay in my bed trembling, and then I began to talk to
myself-calmining words to reassure me.  I told myself that I was fine,
and that Susan hadn't died the horrible death I'd just imagined.  My own
words, spoken aloud, repeated again and again, started to have a
soothing effect, calming me.

I had no idea how the Pirate's Pit had figured in Susan's life, but the
conviction was strong in me that she hadn't died there. Others had their
convictions, but I had mine.  I left my bed and went to where the
amethyst cluster stood on the bookcase.  I picked up the bookend and
placed it on the table beside my bed.  I could do with an amethyst
dream.  From what I'd read, they might be vivid, but they were not
destructive.

I slept.  And I dreamed.  But in the morning I couldn't remember
anything I could use.

It was a beautiful day, so I put all thoughts of Paul out of my head and
concentrated on the pleasure of taking Dulcie to see Anne Trench.  As
soon as I was wide awake, I phoned Anne.  She was pleased with the idea
of our coming over, though first she wanted to know how I was getting
along.

"I was concerned about you at Gulls Cove, hallie.  After you'd gone I
had doubts about whether I should have given you MY strong feelings on
life and marriage.  No one should advise anyone else when it comes to
such matters."

"It's all right" I said.  "I appreciated your advice, though of course
in the end I'll do my own thinking." Which I'd certainly done, hadn't I?
So now I had to get on with my life.

Corey was sitting at the table eating breakfast when I went out on the
deck.  The morning was lovely and clear-warmer, with spring in the air.
I could hear that the birds were happy about that.  A trip over to see
Anne Trench suited Corey just fine, so we finished breakfast together,
with his mother in and out of the kitchen as usual, refusing help.

I told Corey about meeting Brenda Wilshire, and he seemed to approve.

"She's great," he said.  "I've always liked her a lot.  We try to see
each other whenever she comes home.  And, of course, right after Susan
disappeared, we stuck together."

"What do you mean, stuck together?"

"Well, we were closer to Susan than anyone else, so when the sheriff was
convinced that she was really missing, we were asked a lot of
questions-along with everyone else who knew her well.  all the
questioning was rough on Brenda because she had been pretty mad at Susan
around that time.  Other people heard them quarreling."

Mrs.  Orion brought out her own coffee and toast and sat down beside us.
"They used to fight over everything" she told me.I always felt that
Brenda knew something about Susan's disappearance that she wasn't
telling."

Somehow, the words she was speaking didn't ring true, and when I looked
at her, her eyes avoided mine.

"I doubt that, Mom" Corey said.  Then he seemed to consider something
further he wanted to say to me.  "I told you, didn't I, that Susan was
writing a letter the last time I saw her?"

I nodded.

"Well, I didn't tell the whole truth.  The letter she was writing was to
her grandmother.  An envelope addressed to Anne was found on Susan's
desk.  The letter itself never turned up."

I was more interested in the quarrel between Susan and Brenda.  I
sensed, however, that I would get a lot more out of Mrs.  Orion when she
was alone.  I knew her answers to my questions would be much franker
without her son around.

We were still sitting at the breakfast table when Dulcie appeared,
dressed in clean shorts and a T-shirt, with a sweater tied around her
waist.  Her red hair was neatly combed and caught up with a green
spangled clasp-Carlina's touch, of coursethat matched her lively eyes.
all these were signs that her mother was in charge again.  The fact that
Dulcie looked happy made me more sure of this.

We left soon after in Corey's boat.  Dulcie and I took the two seats in
the stern, with Corey ahead of us at the wheel.  Dulcie had brought a
large brown envelope with her, and she held it carefully in her lap,
without explaining.

The sound was a shining blue this morning, like the sky, contrasting
with verdant greens to the west along the shoreline, where pines and
live oaks grew wild.  Dulcie squealed with delight as the boat planed
for a few moments before settling down to skim over the water.  Spray
rose, flying past us, and a white wake frothed behind.

Since we were crossing the sound, Corey didn't need to follow the buoy
markings of red and green that indicated the channel.  He knew his
course and avoided the constantly changing sands that could pile up as
the sea took away sand from the north and deposited it at the south end
of the island, piling up in one direction what it stole from the other.

Again the wind and a sense of flying across the water were exhilarating,
and my spirits rose.  For this little while I was free.

In a few minutes we reached Cabbage Island and I could see the house
perched on its high, safe place.  Corey beached the boat on the sound
side of the island, away from the sea, but when Dulcie and I jumped out
onto sand, Corey stayed in the boat.

"Aren't you coming with us?" I asked.

"Not this time.  You'll be fine now, and I'n be back for you in a couple
of hours.  I want to catch Brenda while she's still on Topsoil."

"I don't think she's going anywhere" I said, and then added a question
before he could get away: "Did you know that my husband is staying at
Brenda's?"

He grinned at me.  "Sure.  I saw him go into the tower house yesterday
when we were on the beach."

Dulcie missed nothing.  "If that man who was talking to you yesterday is
your husband, why aren't you together?"

Corey rescued me.  "Don't ask personal questions, Dulcie."

She made a face.  "Why shouldn't I?  You always do."

He waved a hand at us and pushed off.

As Dulcie and I climbed toward the house, Anne Trench stepped out into
the sea wind to wait for us, her patchwork skirt blowing around her
legs.

To my surprise, Dulcie suddenly pulled back, holding her brown envelope
close to her chest.  "Maybe I'll go down and wait for you by the water."

"What is it?  I thought you wanted to meet Anne Trench."

She held up the envelope, shielding her face from the sun.  "I changed
my mind

"won't go without you.  If you won't come, we'll both go back to the
beach and wait for Corey, but that could be for a couple of tiresome
hours."

"Do come up" Anne called to us.  This morning she wore jeans under her
patchwork skirt, her working smock topping the other layers.  She'd
drawn her silvery hair back with a green RIbbon so that It hung free.

Dulcie lowered the envelope and whispered to me, "She's a real famous
artist, hallie.  I don't know what to say to her."

Dulcie's shyness was totally out of character and therefore touching.

"Just let her do the talking" I advised.  "You needn't say anything
unless you feel like it."

Though not altogether reassured, Dulcie came with me up the porch steps.

Anne recognized Dulcie's shyness, if not its cause, and spoke casually
as she took us inside.

"I'm glad to meet the daughter of Fergus and Carlina Cameron.  I used to
be a neighbor of your parents, Dulcie. Though that was a long time ago,
when I lived on Topsoil Island."

Dulcie recovered her tongue.  "I know.  Lots of the captain's stories
are about you.  He can tell real good stories."

Anne winced but continued to snu're.  "Don't believe everything he tells
you.  He loves to make things up.  Or he used to."

"I guess he still does."

"Are you hungry, Dulcie?" Anne asked.

I explained that we'd had breakfast, and Anne smiled at Dulcie.  "Well
then, I'll just get us a midmorning snack of milk and cookies.  Oatmeal
cookies, still hot from my stove.  Come in and sit by the fire."

Once more, the small room seemed to glow in the firelight-perhaps
because of Anne's presence.  After two cookies and a glass of milk,
Dulcie relaxed.

Anne and I talked for a few moments about how beautiful the morning was,
and how blue the sound looked under the sky.  Then she turned her
attention to Dulcie and the envelope she fidgeted with.

"Have you brought something to show me?" she asked.

Dulcie shook her head and folded her hands over the envelope on her
knees.

"You like to draw pictures, don't you?" Anne said.

"Well-yes.  But I'm not very good."

"Neither was I in the beginning.  I'd like to see what you've done.
Susan used to brag about your talent as an artist."

Dulcie shook her head.  "I was little then.  I can do better now.

"Of course you can.  So show me."

She patted a place beside her on the makeshift sofa, and Dulcie sat down
hesitantly.  I'd taken the armchair I'd been comfortable in before, and
I watched what was happening with interest.

For a moment longer Dulcie hung back.  Then she surrendered the envelope
to Anne.  With fingers once more stained with paint, Anne slipped out
several sheets of drawing paper and spread them on the low table.
Firelight flickered, catching the vivid acrylics.  I was startled to see
what they were.  Dulcie had covered the five sheets with abstract forms
in raw, angry color.

Thoughtfully, one by one, Anne studied the paintings. "These are really
very good, Dulcie.  You've used your imagination in choosing colors and
forms, but I wonder if you were really angry when you painted them."

"I can get mad," Dulcie said, sounding tentative.

"Most of us can.  But I have the feeling that you might have been paying
too much attention to old paintings of me that I thought had been thrown
away.  I think that's my anger on the paper, and not really yours."

"I didn't copy!" Dulcie cried.  "I made all that myself."

"Yes.  I can see that.  You took inspiration from what I'd done.  That's
why I said these were very good-you made them yours.  At least partly.
Of course, that's what artists do in the beginning.  We borrow from
other artists who excite and inspire us.  That's how we learn to draw
and paint.  That's how writers learn to write.  Then, when the skill
begins to feel natural, we go our own way and do our own thing.  Would
you like to see what I'm painting now, Dulcie now that I'm not angry
anymore?"

Dulcie's eyes were shining and she didn't need to put her feelings into
words.

Anne showed the way behind the curtain into her studio.  I followed and
watched Dulcie look around, as though every splotch of paint, every bit
of muddle on the work table, pleased her.  But I was remembering two
days ago.

"thought you wanted to be a dancer, Dulcie."

She cast that idea aside with a wave of her hand.  "That's what MY
mother wants.  It makes her happy if I try.  And I really do like to
dance.  It's just not what I want to do.  It upsets my mother that I
like to paint."

Anne's eyes met mine over Dulcie's head and she grimaced.

"I remember your father," Anne said gently.  "Your mother married a
wonderful man."

"Dad thinks she wanted to be married to the captain.  I heard him say
that to her once."

The words, spoken today with such calm acceptance, disturbed me.  Their
daughter saw far more than her parents realized.

Anne acted as though she hadn't noticed anything amiss. "Come over
here," she said.  "I'd like to show you something."

The gypsy portrait of Carlina had been taken down from the wall and
placed on an easel.  Carhna, tambourine raised, looked over her
shoulder-as tantalizing as she might have seemed as a young woman.

Dulcie stood before the easel, enchanted.  "It's my mother, isn't it?  A
wonderful picture of my mother!"

"I'm pleased that you recognize her," Anne said.  "I painted it from
memory, so I couldn't be sure I'd really caught the way she used to be."

"This is the way she'd like to be!" Dulcie said wisely.  "She thinks
she's old because of some wrinkles and gray hairs, but in this it's what
she's really like.  Oh, I wish she could see this.

Then she'd know who she is."

Anne picked up a cloth and covered the painting.  "It's not finished.  I
don't know if I'll ever finish it-and I'm not sure she'd like it anyway.
It belongs to a past that I can hardly remember.  Would you like to see
some of my other work, Dulcie?"

"I'd love to!" Dulcie cried, and I knew that Anne Trench had worked her
special magic.

I left the two of them to talk about painting, and wandered back to the
firelit room.  Anne was the one who gave it presence.

Without her, it was ordy a lifeless, shabby room, in spite of the fire
that still flickered in the grate.

I picked up a cookie to munch on and went outside to stand at the porch
railing.  Am egret was down in the marsh darting its head about.  Beyond
it a small white boat like Corey's moved in toward the island.  Suddenly
I realized it was Corey, with Brenda Wilshire beside him!

The boat disappeared behind a dune, and a few minutes later I heard the
motor rev up again and watched the little boat head back out.  A moment
later, Brenda came into view, climbing toward the house.  She saw me and
waved, and I waved back, even though her coming here made me uneasy.

As she reached the porch, she explained.  "I bullied Corey into bringing
me over as soon as I learned that Anne Trench was here.  I remember her
from when I was a little girl and was ' a chance to see her again.

"That's nice of you to say.  I enjoyed our visit last night.  Tell me,
though, where did Corey go off to?"

"He had some errands he needed to run, and since I wanted to come here,
he dropped me off and went on his way.  He promised to return in an hour
or so."

She seemed cheerful, her own woes put aside.  I kept feeling that I knew
her well when this came only from having watched her on a television
screen.

Anne had heard the boat, and she came out on the porch to welcome Brenda
with an outstretched hand.

"I haven't seen you in person since you were a child, but I've watched
your work many times on the small screen.  And I've kept track of your
career.  Corey told me you were back on Topsoil, so I'm glad you've come
to see me."

"It's good to see you, too.  I hear about your shows and see your work
in different museums.  I'm glad things have gone so well for you."

Anne smiled and looked at me.  "You should have seen Brenda and Corey
and Susan in their mischief-making heyday!"

Brenda's dark eyes were bright with memories.  "We weren't very original
back then.  We called ourselves the Three Musketeers, Susan, Corey,
airid I.  It's hard to believe that Susan can't be here with us right
now."

I thought about what Corey had said-that Susan and Brenda hadn't parted
as friends.

Anne brought us in out of the wind to where a little warmth radiated
from red embers.

"Dulcie's busy" Anne said to me.  "I gave her drawing things and a place
to work, and she's settled in.  She's a very bright, gifted little
girl."

Cookies were passed around, and apple-cinnamon tea was offered instead
of milk.  Brenda, like everyone else, seemed enchanted in the presence
of Anne Trench.

"I've always wanted to know more about the early days on Topsail,"
Brenda said to Anne, "when Operation Bumblebee was in effect.  Were you
here then?"

"I was and I remember it well.  I was about twenty and working as a
secretary over at Camp Davis in hallie Ridge.  Nicholas was a young
ensign, not long out of Annapolis, and he was the best-looking man I'd
ever seen.  You could have combined the looks of several movie stars of
that time and not equaled Nicholas Trench.  Of course, I fell for
him-hard."

"Did you know Fergus Cameron then?" I asked.

"He was around, but I didn't pay much attention to him.  Of course, he
was Nicholas's friend, but he reminded me of a young stork.  He had long
legs and an awkward way of moving. But he was a brain.  He changed a lot
as he grew older, and of course eventually married Carlins.  Everybody
thought she was too young for him, and that she'd never stick to
marriage after her colorful life, but she's apparently done All right.
Especially since she's the mother of a child as delightful as that
little girl in there.  Thank you for bringing Dulcie to see me, hallie."

I smiled and nodded, but Brenda and I were silent, not wanting to
interrupt any memories of a past time that Anne tm'ght share with us. As
her gaze rested on the glow that remained of the fire, she began to tell
us story after story of that time, painting for us in words.  She made
me feel the excitement that all those young men and women must have
experienced, taking part in a secret plan that would be vitally
important to their country.  The war aroused a patriotism that hadn't
faded into the cynicism that would come later.

Anne's eyes were dreamy as she remembered.  "We had a good time, along
with all the hard work.  It was exciting, and Nicholas was exciting.
I've never known anyone so alive with energy.  And he had so much of the
unexpected about him.  He was never dull, and I simply let him sweep me
along on waves of exuberance."

Listening, I was reminded a little of Paul.  He had been the exuberant
one in my life.  And I thought sadly of the old man in bed in the
Topsoil Island house-the spark of life fading in him, the vigor long
gone.  But it was illness, not age, that had done this.  I'd heard him
rally to roar at Mrs.  Orion, or anyone else who displeased him, though
listening to Anne, I wished I could ,have known the young Nicholas
Trench.

"Did you know Carhna then?" Brenda asked.

I glanced at her, wondering how innocent a question that might be.

Anne didn't seem to mind.  "Not then.  We all got to know her much
later.  Things had closed down on Topsail, but Fergus and Nicholas and I
had decided to stay and build year-round homes.  One day, years later,
Carhna popped up from nowhere. Or not nowhere, really.  She'd left her
circus in Florida and was dancing in nightclubs throughout the
Southeast."

The storyteller seemed to return abruptly from her time travel and
looked up at us.  "But that was then, as they say, and this is now. I've
made the life I wanted for myself.  I've been trying to create a new
relationship with my son, but we haven't much in common.  It's not his
fault or rru'the that I cared more about Susan than I do about her
father." Her words had taken a slightly defiant turn.

"I cared about Susan, tool" Brenda said softly.  "I've never forgiven
myself for parting with her on such bad terms.  But of course I couldn't
know that I'd never see her again."

Anne spoke quietly.  "You were too much alike, weren't you?

There was always tension, competition."

Brenda shook her head.  "You'll have more perspective than I ever did.
Maybe it was like the song-looking for my best friend, looking for
myself, lookin' too hard ...  I'm not sure Susan cared enough about our
friendship, while I cared too much."

"And now?" Anne asked.

I began to wish she wouldn't push Brenda, but Anne took the privilege of
age and did as she pleased.

At her question, Brenda jumped up and went to look out a window toward
the sound, her back to us.  "I don't care a lot about anything anymore."

This was growing uncomfortable and I tried to rescue Brenda with a
question.  "Will you be here for the show Dulcie's school is putting on
in the Assembly Building?"

"I expect I will.  My phone hasn't been ringing off the hook with
offers.  I'll volunteer to help, if they can use me."

"Did you know that Louise is going to sing?" Anne asked me.

This was a surprise and I shook my head.

"She has a lovely voice.  If there had been any money when she was
young, she might have trained for the stage.  Ryce loves music, so it's
one of the things that brought them together."

"That old Assembly Building is full of history," Brenda added, not
listening to us.  "Susan and I heard a lot about it from the captain
when we were growing up.  Then you went away, Anne, and the Orions came.
That gave us Corey."

The way she spoke his name made me realize that Brenda and Susan may
have shared similar taste in men.  It was natural that she and Corey
Orion might be attracted to each other in Susan's absence.

Brenda still had her mind on the Assembly Building.  "Anne, did you know
about the hollow place under the floor near the front of the building?"

"I recall that there was an underground tunnel that ran under the road
and was used to carry the missiles down to the launch sites, so I
suppose there are remnants of that space down there.  It would sound
hollow if someone thumped from above."

Brenda nodded.  "That's it.  Corey and Susan and I found a way into that
space.  We partitioned it off and it made a lovely secret meeting place.
We smuggled some old furniture down there and fixed it up so it was
comfortable.  I suppose the grown-ups knew about it, but they let us
alone." She turned to me.  "I haven't seen that room in years, hallie.
Maybe Corey and I ought to introduce you to our special place.  I expect
some of Susan's stuff is still down there."

"I wonder if you should" Anne said quietly.  "I mean, do you want to dig
up old ghosts?  Somehow I don't have a good feeling about that place.
all that missile launching was exciting, but it was a bit spooky, too. I
always wondered what might be coming back at us from out there."

Brenda shrugged her words aside and glanced at her watch. "Corey will be
here pretty soon, so perhaps we should walk down to where he'll bring
the boat in."

"I'D help Dulcie put things away," Anne said.  "Then I'll send her down
to join you." We parted with promises to come again.

I sensed that Brenda wanted to talk to me alone.  As we followed the
path through the grasses and sea oats, she gave me a 'delong glance.  "I
usually don't meddle in other people's affairs ," she said.

Since that remark usually prefaces an effort to medcue, I stiffened,
ready to resist whatever she meant to say.

"When Paul and I had dinner the other night, he gave me a pretty good
picture of what's going on with you two. He didn't give me your name, so
I had no idea who he was talking about-that there was any connection
between you. I think he wanted someone to listen-which is what I did.
It's always easier to talk to a stranger than to those you know well."

"True confessions?" I asked.

"It wasn't like that.  It's just that I know how angry you must feel.
I've been there.  My own marriage cracked up years ago. But anger
carries too high a price I've found that out.  LookI'm not trying to
play Cupid.  It's Just because I messed up myself that I'm talking like
this."

I had nothing to say on the subject of Paul, and Brenda must have
recognized that.  We'd reached the stretch of sand where Corey would
beach his boat and we sat down on a log to wait.

"I suppose Louise is still around?" Brenda said idly.  "How are things
working out for her with Ryce?"

I shrugged.  "I'm not sure Ryce is happy.  Louise seems to pretty much
just look after herself."

Brenda nodded, watching a cruiser glide past down the waterway, big and
white, creating those great rollers in its wake that small boats had to
watch out for.  Tiny crabs burrowed in the sand at our feet, darting
sideways, absorbing to watch.  I leaned over to pick up a delicate sand
dollar half embedded near our feet.  It was perfect, without a crack or
blemish.

Brenda looked out at the green shore across the sound.  "I knew Louise a
long time ago in New York, when we were both models for a big agency.  I
was only eighteen.  She was at least ten years older than me, maybe
more, and very successful.  I thought she was the most beautiful woman
I'd ever seen.  They only used me because I had a different sort of
look.  I never reached the peak she did as a model, nor did I expect to.
I was really trying to get into stage work or television, but I think an
that Louise wanted was to be a model."

Though somewhat taken aback by this information, I wasn't completely
surprised.  I could imagine how cameras must have loved Louise when she
was young.

Brenda sighed.  "I haven't seen her in years.  I knew that she'd married
Ryce Trench, of course, but our paths haven't crossed when I've come
back to the island.  She was more than beautiful when I knew her.  She
was a vital, happy person, always helping other people."

This startled me.  "I'm afraid she's changed."

"That's likely enough, considering all that happened to her.  I felt
very sorry for her at the time."

"Oh?" I said, brushing sand off the paper-thin shell in my fingers.

Her sigh was a little deeper this time.  "I suppose her bad luck was
mostly her own fault.  I went to see her a couple of times while she was
in prison."

The sand dollar cracked in my fingers and I threw the pieces away.
Brenda caught my shocked look.

"Uh-oh!  If Louise has kept quiet about what happened in the past, I'd
better shut up.  Anyway, here comes our transportation."

Corey's boat was heading in toward shore, but he wasn't at the wheel.
Fergus Cameron nosed the little craft in toward the beach and turned off
the motor so that it drifted, eventually running its bow into the sand.
Then he threw over an anchor, climbed out, and walked toward us.

I was stunned by the sketchy information Brenda had dropped about
Louise, but for now my attention was diverted by the surprise of
Fergus's appearance.  As he walked toward us,"remembered Anne's remark
that he had reminded her of a stork when he was a young man.  There was
still something of that quality about him as he moved his long legs a
bit stiffly.

He nodded to me, but his focus was on Brenda.  "Hello.  I didn't know
you were back from New York"

"HiHo, Fergus" she said.  "If you've come for your daughter, she's up at
Anne's.  That's a fine little girl you and Carhna have produced."

"We think so," he said, and started up the path past us.  "I told Corey
I'd pick you all up because I wanted to see Anne while she's here."

Brenda looked after him and then got up from the log.

"Come on, hallie.  I wouldn't miss this meeting for anything."

There were a hundred questions I wanted to ask about Louise, but that
would have to wait.  I followed Brenda as she hurried up the hill.

Since Fergus, with his long strides, was well ahead of us, I spoke to
her softly.  "What's up?  Why are you so interested in Fergus seeing
Anne?"

"There was a blowup the last time they met.  Anne was angry with Carlina
and Nicholas, and she spined everything out in front of Fergus.  He
defended his wife and told Anne off pretty harshly."

So he had defended her-but what had he believed?

When we neared the house, Anne came out on the porch with Dulcie, to
watch our approach.

Fergus climbed the steps ahead of us and held out his hand. "You're
looking well, Anne."

She took his hand without hesitation, smiling warmly.  "It's been a long
time, Fergus.  How are you?"

"Getting old.  Only you and Carlina manage to go on looking young.

Dulcie came running up to her father, holding a tote bag as well as her
big envelope.  Anne must have supplied her with art materials and packed
them up for her.  Dulcie set down her things and hugged her father, then
looked over her shoulder at Anne.

"Can I show him?"

It took Anne a moment to realize what Dulcie was referring to, and when
she did her expression turned doubtful.

"Please," Dulcie pleaded.

"all right" Anne said.  "Come in the house, Fergus."

Brenda and I were included in Anne's sweeping gesture and we all went
through to the studio.  This time it was Dulcie who ran to remove the
covering over the painting of the gypsy.

Fergus went to the easel and studied the portrait.  "This is remarkable"
he told Anne.  "It's a generous portrait, considering all that-"

"That was a long time ago," Anne broke in.  "I probably wasn't fair to
Carlina or to you.  Nicholas was the one I was angry with."

Brenda and I watched, absorbed in the little drama being played out
between these two.

The stiffening was still there in Fergus's tall frame as he spoke. "Nick
was to blame.  Always.  But Carlina could never help playing the
coquette.  You've caught that perfectly in your portrait.

"Ah, the wonders of memory," Anne said lightly.  "I didn't even have a
snapshot to work with.  I expect that she's a very different woman now
just as I am someone else."

Fergus continued to study the portrait, silent now.

"You stayed married," Anne said.  " I suppose that's an achievement
these days-though it wouldn't rate as that for me."

I sensed the uneasiness in Fergus.  "Perhaps we've been together too
long to ever change.  Don't take this the wrong way, but maybe it's
better if you don't see Carlina while you're here."

"I shan't look her up, if that's what you mean.  Though surely there's
been enough water under the bridge.  Those overwrought emotions would be
pretty hard on us these days."

That might be, I thought, but Anne didn't know that Fergus was still
quite capable of exploding over the past.

Dulcie was showing Brenda the contents of her tote bag, and Brenda was
properly admiring.  Then she looked around at Fergus, with the winning
smile I knew so we from TV "I ought to be getting back.  I promised my
aunt-"

"Of course," Fergus said.  "We can leave right away." But he didn't move
toward the door at once, his focus again on the painting. "Would you
sell this to me, Anne?"

She hesitated.  "I'll think about it."

She came with us to the top of the steps and watched us head down the
path.  When I turned back to wave, I saw that her face was sad, as
though fined with bittersweet memories.

Again Fergus's long legs took him ahead of us, and Dulcie, at peace now
with her father, trotted along beside him.  I was glad of the chance to
speak privately to Brenda.  Unexpectedly, I had made up my mind about
something, surprising myself.

"When we get back to the island, may I come with you to your aunt's
house?" I asked her.  "I want to see my husband."

She smiled cheerfully.  "Good idea.  We've given him the tower room to
work in, so he's probably up there reading page proofs or something."

I had made my decision quickly, impulsively-in a sense, without
consulting myself But now it was done and the confrontation I'd been
putting off was about to happen.  The prospect frightened me a little.
This time sparks were going to fly, and that was what I wanted, wasn't
it?  A confrontation.  No turning away, but speaking my mind!

Once we were on our way, however, anxiety began to build in me.  Was
this really a good idea?  I began to panic, wanting ordy to turn back.

When we reached the soundside dock near Brenda's house, Fergus secured
the boat and we stepped out.  As I waved goodbye to father and daughter,
I asked Dulcie to tell Mrs.  Orion that I was going to visit with Brenda
for a while and would be back later.

Brenda said nothing on the short walk to the tower house, and I tried to
suppress my rising doubts.  When we got there she looked up at the top
floor.

"There's a window open" she said, "so he must be there.  Go .on up.  My
aunt and I will stay out of the way and you can have him to yourself."
When I hesitated, she gave me a shove.. "Just do it she said.  "You'll
know what to say when the time comes. Though sometimes maybe we just
need to listen."

I could feel a pulse beating in my throat, and I only remembered the
warnings Anne Trench had given me.  When we went inside, I left Brenda
to explain to her aunt, and hurried toward the stairs to the tower.  My
feet sounded on the bare boards, so Paul was certainly warned that
someone was coming.  When I reached the top step, I stood still and
looked around.

He was sprawled in the one armchair, his glasses sliding down his nose,
so that he had to push them up every little while.  That familiar
gesture.  He seemed deep in the pages he was reading, and for a moment
he didn't look up, though I knew he could only be pretending that he
hadn't heard my approach.  Finally he took off his glasses and stared at
me a look that was hardly welcoming.

I went up the last step and dropped onto the sofa opposite his chair.
"Talk to me," I said.  "Please talk to me."

His look softened, and thankfully he didn't remind me that he had been
trying to do just that.  Words didn't come easily to him now, and I
braced myself against hearing that he was sorry, that it wouldn't happen
again, but when he spoke, that wasn't what he offered me.

"I've had to do some thinking, hallie.  I've been thinking about what
matters to me most, about what's worthwhile in life and what isn't, and
I know one thing: I'm not like my father."

The pulse that had been beating so hard in my throat quieted.  Paul's
father had been something of a Don Juan, and his mother had suffered in
a marriage she'd simply endured.

"I've hurt you, and I've hurt myself," he went on.  "I made a stupid
mistake.  I won't excuse myself or ask you to forgive me or any such
nonsense.  I just want you to know that I value what we've had between
us more than anything else in my life.  I've had a taste of doing
without you, and I don't like it.  Maybe we've been taking too much for
granted about marriage, and I hope that can change."

He went to stand at one of the high windows that looked out over
Topsoil.  I sat so still that I hardly breathed.

When he continued he didn't turn around.  "I've seen how hurt and angry
you've been, and nothing is worth that to me. I've been angry and hurt
myself, though not with as good a reason.  Maybe this is something new
for us.  Not a turning point.  A growing point?  Away from patterns
we've become fixed in?

Once in a while maybe you could come with me to some of those Hollywood
parties you hate.  And I'd like to stay home more than I have and get to
know you again.  To know myself We've lived together for eig"lit years,
but I'm not sure we understand each other as well as we did in the
beginning."

I knew very well that he was right.  Something between us had slipped
away and we hadn't noticed.

"It's not gone," I said.  "I love you.  I don't want to lose you, even
though I don't-" I paused, stepping back before I said the wrong words.

He smiled, the old, loving smile that I had remembered so terribly.
"Will you have dinner with me tonight, hallie?  I tried out the
Soundside with Brenda and her aunt, so now I can show it to you.

"I'd like that." I went to stand beside him at the window and he put an
arm around me.  It felt right-exactly the way it should feel.

"I have a lot to tell you" " I said.  "I need your help."

He kissed the top of my head and then under my chin. When he found my
mouth, the kiss lasted a very long time.  My heart was thumping wildly
and I put my arms around his neck so I could hold on tight, yet even
there in his arms, wanting to be held, wanting a great deal more, an
undercurrent of uncertainty lingered.  I was afraid of being happy too
soon.  I didn't want to be hurt all over again, yet how was I to trust
him as I had before?

He sensed my slight withdrawal and stepped back, releasing me.  "Let's
give it time.  Let's not make promises we might not be able to keep.
First there's mending to do-for both of us.  I've rented a car, so if
you like, I can drive you back to the captain's now.

He was right.  My emotions were so raw, the hurt so fresh, that I still
had a tendency to shake, and I knew we needed a quiet time apart in
order to find our own way.

"That will be fine," I said.  "I'd like you to meet captain Trench, and
I want him to meet you.

We went down the tower stairs to find Brenda alone.  She simply smiled
at us, not needing words.

On the drive I told Paul a little of what had been happening.

He knew of my college friendship with Susan, and how fond of her I'd
been.  In the last few years I'd almost forgotten what a good listener
Paul could be, perhaps because I hadn't talked to him enough lately to
remember.  The enemy of love was to take for granted.

There was only time to tell him a little of the story, though. Corey and
the Pirate's Pit would have to wait.  And so would Louise-who was still
an enormous question mark.

When we reached the house, Mrs.  Orion met us.

"This is my husband, Paul Knight" I said.  "Paul, this is Mrs. Orion,
the captain's housekeeper.  Do you suppose the captain could see us for
a few minutes?" I asked her.

She looked pleased, and with a fair amount of surprise I sensed that I'd
somehow made it into Mrs.  O's good graces.  She didn't disapprove of me
as she had at first.

The captain was sitting up in his chair watching television when we
reached his room.  He gave us a long look and then used the remote to
turn off the set.

"You're hallie's Paul, of course," he said, and held out his hand.  Then
he looked at me.  "You're a smart girl.  I knew that from the first
minute I saw you."

Paul had a way of making friends.  There were no strangers in his life,
and he sat down and began to talk about the towers and what he had
learned of Operation Bumblebee.  The two men ' were quickly at ease with
each other, so I left them to get acquainted and went to my room. Once
the door was closed, I had another shaking spell.  I hadn't known that
all this emotion was bottled up inside me.  The only feeling I'd been
willing to accept was anger, and there was still a part of me that
wanted to stay angry-a negative aspect that I would have to deal with.
For the first time I could see that anger was an indulgence that I had
enjoyed. That had to stop.

All I was sure of now was that Paul had come back to me at least for the
moment-and that I wanted him.  I couldn't see any further than that.
Hollywood and all those stunning women were still out there, but now I
would try to be more active in his life just as he would need to be more
active in mine.

Someone tapped on my door, and Mrs.  Orion came in smiling-not her
stiff, tentative smile, but something warmer, and supportive.

"This is a big house, Mrs.  Knight.  If your husband would like to move
his things over here, I can fix a nice room for the two of you
upstairs."

I hesitated only a moment.  Paul was right-we needed to give ourselves
time.  The state of affairs between us was still unsettled.  Our
physical need for each other mustn't be snowed to take over, not until
we knew how to be together in a new way.

"Not just yet I told her.  "We need a little time."

She nodded in understanding.  "He'll court you, and that's the way it
should be."

Court.  What a lovely, old-fashioned word.

Mrs.  Orion went on, "Dulcie came home with her father looking happy.
Thank you for taking her out this morning. Everything seems fine now."

Seems was the key word.  I wondered how certain anyone could be of
anything.  I had seemed to have a good marriage, hadn't I?

By the time Paul left the captain's room, I had steadied myself and was
waiting for him on the deck, where he came out to join me.

"I like the captain," he told me.  "I'm glad I had a chance to meet
him."

He didn't kiss me again, but his eyes were warm, appreciating me.  I
hadn't had that from him in a long while, and I was ready to bask in the
return of this old feeling.

We parted until evening, when he would pick me up at seven for dinner.
There was still an awkwardness between us. We were two people who hoped
we would mean a great deal to each other for a long time to come, but
weren't entirely sure of it yet.

When he'd gone, I stood at the railing looking out over the sound.  I
didn't want to see the captain right away and listen to him talk about
Paul-perhaps even give me advice. I didn't want to sit on the deck and
read.

just then I noticed that Corey's boat wasn't tied up to the dock where
Fergus would have left it.  I looked around, curious, and saw it out in
the channel, turning in toward Topsail.  Corey sat behind the wheel,
with Anne Trench beside him.  She could only be coming here to see the
captain, I realized with amazement, and a new concern held me as I
watched Corey pull into the dock.

Corey helped her out of the boat, and Anne stood on the dock looking up
at the house with grave, searching eyes.

It must have been a very long time since she'd seen it. When she found
me there on the cantilevered deck, she raised a hand in greeting.
However, she didn't move at once toward the house.

Corey was busy lifting something out of the boat, and I saw by the shape
of it that it must be a painting.  I could guess what it was.  Anne must
have brought her portrait of Carlina.  So perhaps there would be two
meetings now-one with Fergus and his "gyps " and one with the captain.
Or at least, so I hoped.

Anne made a picture herself there on the dock, with the water of the
sound glinting behind her in the sun.  An osprey that had been perched
at the end of the dock flew away with a great flapping of wings, and for
a moment she stood watching him go.  She wore slim gray trousers and a
green pullover with a woven yellow pattern.  Above the rolled neck her
head rose proudly, silver hair hidden under a green scarf.  Instead of a
handbag she held a small tote.

She spoke to Corey, perhaps instructing him about the painting, for he
carried it out of sight into the lower area of the house.  Again she
looked up at me, but this time she called out, "Wait, please."

Never in anything she'd done in the short time I'd known her had she
seemed indecisive, but now I could sense her uncertainty.  She had left
this house in anger and never returned until now, when the captain was
old and sick, which might not please him in the least.

I waited for her at the top of the stairs.  Mrs.  Orion had seen what
was about to happen, and though she'd never met Anne Trench, she knew
who she must be.  She came to stand beside me, gripping the railing as
though she needed it for balance.

"This will upset him," she whispered.  "I'd better warn him first."

"No," I said.  "Just wait."

Anne came up the stairs briskly and at the top she held out her hand.
"You must be Mrs.  Orion.  I'm Anne Trench.  Susan told me about you and
what a great help you've been to the captain.  May I see him now?"

Mrs.  Orion was she doubtful.  "I'll go and ask" she said.

Anne put a hand on her arm.  "No, please.  He might refuse to see me.
But I think the time has come to mend old injuries."

Mrs.  Orion gave in reluctantly, and Anne turned to me. "Come with me,
hallie.  I don't want to face him alone."

The hesitance I felt in her was surprising and somehow touching.  That a
woman as strong as Anne Trench could be unsure of herself and vulnerable
was somehow reassuring.  Vulnerability was allowed.

When we reached the captain's door, she stepped back so that I could go
in ahead of her.  I had no idea what to say or do. "There's a-a visitor
to see you I managed.

He wheeled around in his chair and stared past me at the door.  She came
into the room with her head still held high, chin up.  She'd taken off
her scarf and her beautiful hair was piled on top of her head as usual.
The last time the captain had seen her it would not have been silver.
The word for Anne Trench was gallant, I thought.  The captain's
amazement was clearly evident, but whatever she might be feeling, Anne
went to stand close enough to touch him if she wished.

Her voice was soft when she spoke.  "It's been a long time, Nicholas.  I
think we're old enough now to forgive each other. Do you suppose we can
do that?"

He had hated to have Carlina see him as he was now, but with Anne it
didn't seem to matter.  More than a love affair lay between them.  Once
she had been his wife.

"I was a fool," he said.  "Hello, Anne."

She took the hand he held out and bent to kiss his cheek lightly.  "So
was I.  But there wasn't anything else I could do at the time.  I was
too young and angry.  I was beyond reason."

I knew I should go away and leave them alone, but I was mesmerized by
the scene unfolding before me.

"I should never have let you go." The captain's voice could still
rumble, but now the thunder was subdued.  "If I'd gone after you, I
might have brought you back."

She shook her head.  "By that time it was too late."

"I saw the paintings you left behind.  They told me how angry you were,
and how much you cared.  When I saw them I knew how much I cared, too.
Unfortunately, pride was more important to me in those days than love.
I'm no longer proud, as you can see.  But now we've grown into
strangers."

"Perhaps we can still be friends," she said gently.  "May I sit down and
visit With you for a little while?"

I felt tears come into MY eyes, and I went quickly away and left them
alone.  Anne didn't need me now.  If he had loved two women, his love
for each had been different.  Carlina would have given him bright
excitement.  She did that even now.  But Anne was gifted with depth,
heart, understanding.  Carlina had been a young man's love.  Anne was
for the years.  So much had been thrown away by two angry people.  That
mustn't happen to Paul and me.

Mrs.  Orion was hovering when I came out, and I nodded reassuringly.
"It's all right.  They just need to be alone for a while."

Corey had come upstairs.  "What a day!  How are they doing?"

"I think they're becoming friends again," I told him.

"That's a relief.  I worried when she phoned me to come after her and
bring her here.  I'm glad it's going okay.  She's given me a -oh she
wants me to take the painting she did of Carlina to Fergus.  How about
coming with me?  This should be interesting.

I was curious about what Fergus's wife would think of the gypsy Anne had
painted, and I went with Corey downstairs to pick up the portrait.  I
suggested that he phone first, but he didn't think it was necessary.

After we crossed the clearing to the other house, Dulcie met us at the
door, with her father close behind.

"Mrs.  Trench would like you to have this painting that you admired,"
Corey explained.

"Come on in," Fergus said, and turned to call his wife.  Carlina came at
once, with no inkling of what was in store for her.

Apparently Anne Trench has sent us a gift" Fergus said.

Dulcie knew what was in the package and danced about excitedly.  "Open
it, Mom!" she cried.  "I know what it is, and I know how much you'll
like it!"

But Dulcie was wrong.  When the wrapping was off and the painting had
been propped up where it could be seen, Carlina looked at it for a
moment and then burst into tears.  Fergus reached for her, but she
backed away almost angrily.  "I don't look like that anymore!" she
cried.  "I haven't looked like that for years.  She was only mocking me
when she painted it.  I know how I've changed."

Fergus regarded her in amazement.  "Don't be foolish!  We're all what we
are now, but we're also what we were then.  When I look at you, I can
see the gypsy dancing.  Don't you know that?

But you mean much more to me now than you ever did then. That's why when
you think too much about Nicholas, I go a little crazy."

I nudged Corey.  "Come along.  We'd better get back."

Only Dulcie noticed when we left, and she came after us, happy and
talkative.  "My mother tells me stuff sometimes about how old she looks.
She thinks my dad only cares about that.  So when she pulls away, he
thinks she doesn't love him anymore.  hallie, how can grown-ups be so
silly?"

Out of the mouths of babes!  I could learn from Dulcie.

Corey said he'd wait down at the boat until Anne was ready to leave, and
Dulcie went with him.  When I got back inside, I was just in time to see
Anne come out of the captain's room. She stopped to speak to Mrs.  Orion
and they both looked grave.  I waited for her a little apart, and then
we went downstairs together.

"I didn't realize how ill he is." She spoke sadly.  "I'll come every day
for a while.  I've brought him two books that I hope he'll read.  He
doesn't have to take this.  There are ways out."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

"I wish someone else was looking after him, instead of Mrs. Orion.  Or
at least spelling her."

That surprised me.  "Mrs.  Orion seems devoted to him, and she gives him
the best of care.  She even protects him from anything that might upset
him.  Don't you like her?"

"I expect she does a very conscientious job, but she encourages him to
be ill.  Besides-oh, I wish I knew what's wrong.  I get the sense that
Mrs.  Orion is a very frightened woman.  I hope her negative energy
isn't something that might hurt Nicholas."

The last thing I would have suspected of Mrs.  O was that she might be
afraid of something.  "Why do you think that?"

We'd reached the dock and were walking toward the boat. She put a hand
on my arm, so that we stopped before we reached Corey and Dulcie.

"I'm not sure, but she was uneasy when we spoke-worried. Perhaps you can
find out what it is that's frightening her?"

Corey helped Anne into the boat, and Dulcie followed.  "I'm going to
ride over with Corey," she called up to me.  "He'll bring me right
back."

The boat roared into life and moved out across the sound, cutting the
water into two waves of white foam.  Anne had tied the scarf around her
head again, her face framed in color.  I watched until the boat
disappeared around a jutting of land as it turned toward Cabbage Island.

When I went upstairs Mrs.  Orion was waiting for me.  I tried to see her
with new eyes, but she looked the same as ever to me, and I shrugged off
Anne's words.

"How is the captain?" I asked.  "I hope that seeing Mrs. Trench was good
for him."

"He's gone to sleep, and that's a good sign.  It means he's relaxed.  He
hasn't been sleeping well lately.  By the way, you have a visitor, Mrs.
Knight."

The way she spoke the words alerted me to her disapproval. I looked into
the long living room and saw Brenda waiting for me.

"Don't you like her?" I asked Mrs.  Orion.

The housekeeper frowned.  "Like or not like isn't up to me.  I only know
she wasn't good for Susan-or for Corey, either."

She walked off and I went to greet Brenda, surprised to see her so soon
after I'd left her house.

"Can we talk?" she said, and cast a look toward the deck where Mrs.
Orion was sitting down with her knitting.

I led the way to my room-a room Brenda knew well, since it had been
Susan's after her grandmother left.

She didn't sit down, but moved about, as if reacquainting herself with
the furnishings.  "I'm here because Ryce phoned me, hallie.  He's going
to meet me here in a little while." She stopped before Susan's
collection of books about crystals, which sat next to the amethyst
geode.

"What's up?" I said.

"Ryce wants to talk to his father about Louise, and he wants me there
because I knew her in New York."

What Brenda had told me about Louise being in prison had shocked me and
left me with questions.  "You've told me a little about her, but not
enough.  What is her story?"

Brenda dropped into a chair and stretched widely, as if to delay
answering.  Then she made up her mind and began to talk.

"Louise has had a pretty bad deal, even though she brought most of it on
herself She fell hard for an actor in New York.  He wasn't much good-you
don't need to know his name.  I'll call him jack.  They had an affair
and there was a baby, though they never married.  For a little stretch
of time I think Louise was completely happy.  I saw the baby once a
darling little girlbut she was colicky and cried a lot, and I guess that
drove jack crazy.  He'd never wanted a baby in the first place, but when
Louise became pregnant, there was no choice-not in those days." Brenda
seemed to brace herself before she went on. "Anyway, Louise went out on
an errand one day, and when she came back,jack was gone and the baby was
dead.  There were marks which meant that he'd either struck her or
dropped her. Louise chose to believe it was an accident."

I felt suddenly ill.  Brenda shook her head and went on.

"Louise really loved that worthless bum, but if the truth had come out,
his career would have been finished, let alone his life. Besides, I
think Louise somehow blamed herself.  If she had been home, nothing
would have happened.  So she had to punish herself, and she took the
blame and protected him.  She was the one to go to prison for what he
had done."

I was having a hard time reconciling all this with the Louise I'd come
to know.

"Does Ryce know about this?" I asked.

"I don't think Louise would have told him.  He's too stiff and proper. I
did tell Susan one night when I'd had too much to drink and I've always
regretted it.  I saw Louise when she was released from prison after a
few years.  She didn't seem like the same woman who went in-prison had
toughened her.  She told me she was going back to North Carolina.  She
didn't have anyone left there, but she was going to marry a rich man and
enjoy all the things she'd missed in life.  And that's what she did. I
wonder if she's been happy?"

I doubted that she had, but for the first time I was sorry for Louise.

Brenda read what I was feeling.  "Let it go, hallie.  It's not your
problem, but you wanted to know." She touched the purple facets of the
amethyst.  "There used to be a pair of these. What happened to the other
one?"

I hesitated for a moment.  Then I went to my suitcase in the closet and
lifted out the heavy rock to bring it to Brenda.

"Dulcie had this one in her room.  I'm not sure why, but she asked me to
keep it for her."

Brenda carried the geode to the window so the facets would catch the
light.  "It needs to be cleaned.  You only need to immerse it in water
to clean it, you know." She looked more closely.  "And it's been
damaged.  Three of the central facets are broken or cracked."

I hadn't noticed this in my haste to put it away.  Now I went to stand
beside Brenda and saw what she meant.  The central crystals were dulled,
their sharp edges blunted.

"It must have been dropped" Brenda said.

I looked into the amethyst's depths and a thought came into MY mind, a
thought so disturbing that for a moment I couldn't speak it aloud.

"What is it?  What do you see?"

"Could this rock have been used as a weapon?"

She understood.  "Do you mean could it have killed Susan?"

"I don't want to think that, but would it have been possible, do you
suppose?"

Brenda shook her head.  "I doubt it.  The rock is too heavy and awkward
to use as a weapon." She rubbed a finger over the dull film that marred
the surface, but she had nothing more to suggest.

I put the stone away again, closing it into the darkness of my suitcase.
I didn't want to think that murder had been connected with so pure a
stone as an amethyst.  Besides, the ramifications might be too
disturbing.

"Why do you suppose Dulcie had it?" Brenda asked.

"I've been waiting for her to tell me, but the very sight of the stone
upsets her.  She doesn't want to talk about it."

"That seems pretty odd.  Maybe you ought to push her a little more and
find out.  If she knows anything, we'd better learn what it is."

I didn't want to push Dulcie.  She had enough problems.  If she ever
wanted to tell me, I would listen.  Besides, I wasn't sure by this time
how much I wanted to involve Brenda Wilshire in all of this.

A sudden boom like thunder reverberated through the house, and I felt a
tremor under my feet.  I looked at Brenda in "I'm getting spooked! this
happened once before when alarm.

I was holding one of those thunder eggs."

Brenda laughed.  "Coincidence.  Come on out on the deck."

When we stood at the rail everything was calm.  There wasn't a cloud in
the sky, and the ground beneath us didn't move.

"Seneca guns." Brenda wrinkled her nose.  "Nobody can explain what
happens, but it occurs every once in a while up and down the East
Coast."

"Sonic booms, perhaps?"

"It can happen when there's no plane activity around.  Besides, the
phenomenon has been going on for two hundred years.  The Seneca Indians
were a powerful Iroquois tribe in New York.  The Dutch sold them guns,
so the story goes that they're still firing them in resentment over
what's happened to Indian lands and Indian people.  There's even a
theory of underwater landslides in the ocean, but no one really knows.
None of the seismological stations in North Carolina ever pick anything
up. " She turned toward the stars.  "Here comes Ryce.

By the way, I hope everything's all right between you and Paul, hallie."

"I'm having dinner with him tonight."

"That's good."

As she left me at the door to my room and started down the stairs to
meet Ryce, Corey came down from his upper room, and I caught a look
between them.  Of affection?  Intimacy?  It made me wonder.  Since I
didn't want to see Ryce, I returned to my room and sat down to think
about Louise's terrible story. What would a divorce from Ryce do to her
now?  My instincts told me that Richard Merrick was unlikely to marry
again.  And Louise, however beautiful, was no longer young.

I touched the amethyst geode and put her out of my thoughts.  Seneca
guns, Brenda had said.  I liked that idea.  And the geode was a thunder
egg-a gift from the thunder gods. Perhaps it was all tied together.
Fantasy, however, couldn't distract me for long. Inevitably my thoughts
were puffed back to Paul and what might come of our dining together that
night.

For a little while in the tower room we'd seemed close again-as I wanted
to be.  I wished that old warnings planted when I was young could be
dislodged, dismissed.  I didn't want to distrust him.

Paul had made a reservation and we were graciously welcomed at the
Soundside.  The big dining room had a verdant feeling about it, with
plants and flowers everywhere. Woodsy green tablecloths and bright green
napkins made every table part of a garden.  A row of windows along one
side of the room offered a view of the bridge and the sound, with
low-tide sandbars striping the water.

When we'd been seated beside a window, I could look across a narrow
porch and watch the sky glow pink with sunset.  After we'd ordered our
seafood dinner, I found myself shy and tongue-tied.  I was behaving like
a young girl on her first date. Perhaps Paul felt something of the same
restraint, for at first we didn't look directly at each other.  Not that
I needed to look again to appreciate how well his tan jacket and brown
turtleneck sweater suited him.  And I knew very well how I lookedI'd
stood in front of the mirror in my room long enough, arranging the
draped neck of my delphinium blue dress.  My hair shone with brushing,
and 'onquil earrings added a touch of spring.

"Fill me in some more about Susan's disappearance and the whole
situation, hallie," he said.

This subject was safe, and I told him some of the bits and pieces that
I'd learned since arriving on Topsail Island.  As we talked, the
awkwardness fell away.  It seemed right to be here, recounting
everything that had happened.  Or almost everything.  I didn't want to
talk about how-in only a few days-I had seemed to lose all that was most
important to me.  Perhaps now we might earn it back.  But I had to step
cautiously.

My account was disconnected, but at least it gave him something of the
picture.  He was especially interested in Louise and what Brenda had
said about her being in prison.  all the tricky intertwinings of emotion
and drive in these people fascinated hir-n.  Life and movie scripts
weren't really so far apart, and his interest made me uneasy.  I
finished by telling him the frightening story of the Pirate's Pit and
what Corey believed.  That shocked him and he lost himself in thinking
about what I'd told him.

For the first time since I'd sat down, I began to look around at the
other diners.  I saw Corey, very proper in his role as a waiter.  When
he caught my eye he winked.  But it was the couple he waited on who drew
my attention.

"Don't look now," I cautioned Paul, "but Louise is here having dinner
with Richard Merrick."

When you tell people not to look, they usually do anyway.

Paul turned his head in time to catch Richard's eye, and the two men
exchanged nods of recognition.

"You sound as if you don't approve," Paul said, turning back to me.

By this time I wasn't sure exactly how I felt about Louise. Until now
I'd glimpsed only the woman she had turned herself into, but knowing her
story, I felt more generous.

"Louise dabbles in real estate, and Richard Merrick is her lawyer.  But
the fact that he also handles the captain's will makes me uneasy,
especially since those two seem attracted to each other.  I guess my
sympathies are still more with Ryce than with Louise."

"Where do you think Merrick stands?"

"I'm not sure.  There can't be much of an advantage for him in getting
involved with Ryce's wife."

"She's very beautiful," Paul said.

bit MY tongue, refraining from the wrong remark, and set down my fork
carefully before I spoke.  "I keep going round and round in my head
about all these people and their connections with Susan.  Who could
possibly have wanted to harm her?  I know she could be maddening, and
she could fly into a terrible temper when she was crossed, but still . .
." I had nowhere to go with this.

"I'd like to meet some of your new friends" Paul said.  The familiar
crease showed between his eyes-a sign that he was puzzling about
something.

Suddenly I felt ridiculously happy.  Paul was here.  He wanted to be
here with me.  And now he would help me sort everything out.  This was
the way we used to be.

"When we leave here, will you show me this Pirate's Pit you were talking
about?" he asked.

Though I didn't want to go near that place again, I agreed.

Our meal had been delicious, and now we were indulging ourselves with
the cheesecake we both loved.  When Louise and Merrick rose to leave and
came past our table, they stopped. Paul rose and Richard made the
introductions.  I saw Louise's eyes rest on Paul and linger.  At once I
was on guard in a new way that I'd never experienced before, and I gave
myself an inward shake.  Paul was an attractive man and his life had
always been tued with beautiful women.  I needed to regain the
confidence I used to have about myself, and about a relationship that no
outsider could touch.  Only it had been touched, and how was I to live
from now on with my knowledge of that?

"You must bring your husband over to see us while he's here, hallie,"
Louise said, she looking at Paul as she spoke.  I glanced at Richard
Merrick and caught him watching me with a slight smile.  It was a
sympathetic look, and somehow reassuring.  As though he were saying, We
both know Louise and what she's like. Don't worry.  Your husband knows,
too.

As they left the dining room, I looked after them and for a moment I
couldn't look at Paul.

"I feel sorry for her," he said.  "She's fighting for her life.  I
expect she's done that for a good many years, and now she's afraid that
everything, including the money, is slipping away.  You don't want it,
but the captain seems determined to give it to someone 'in the family.
If Ryce should decide that he can't put up outsi I with Louise anymore,
what would happen to her?  I suppose Richard is a straw she's reaching
for."

I regarded my husband with love and admiration-and confusion.  The
confusion was for me.  He had always been generous and uncritical, and
he was seeing Louise as I would have liked to see her-with generosity.

He held out a hand to me across the table.  "Thanks for coming out with
me, hallie.  I'm beginning to have a good feeling about us." The spell
held for just a moment.  Then it was he who let it go.

"Perhaps we can pay the Pirate's Pit a visit now."

I took back my hand that he'd been holding.  "This isn't a script,
Paul."

For an instant I'd startled him.  Then he nodded.  "That's why I want to
meet the rest of the people you've told me about.  So they'll be real
for me.  Then perhaps I can bring some fresh insight to what's been
happening.  A visit to the pit is part of the reality."

He pushed back his chair, but I didn't move.  While we were here in a
public place, I knew I must set my foot into dangerous currents.

"Anne Trench advised me not to go back to you.  She thinks men never
change."

His eyes turned cool, critical again.  He could be critical of me, but
not of Louise, and I resented that.  But then a guardian voice whispered
in my mind, ThatN because he cares about you.  I agreed with the voice
and relaxed a little.  We were critical of those we loved because we
expected perfection.  Foolish but human.

I smiled, surprising him.  He picked up the words I'd quoted from Anne
Trench.  "What you do with your life and what I do with mine is up to
us.

More than anything I longed to be with Paul-to walk out of this room
with him and into his arms.  I wanted to shut out every niggling thought
that might keep me from doing that.

But even as I smiled at him, I also knew that we could never pick up
again exactly where we'd left off.  Something more solid needed time to
evolve between us.  Neither of us knew with certainty how to cross the
space that had widened between us, and it was safer to wait.

I thought again of Anne's advice and said, "Perhaps it helps to listen
to people like Anne Trench who have been there before us.  Even if we
don't follow their course.  As I hope we won't."

He didn't answer as we rose to leave the restaurant.  At the front desk
he stopped to compliment the owner of the Soundside, and I knew she was
pleased.  I remembered how well he did such things, not in any
calculated way, but because it was ural to him to appreciate the efforts
of others.  Paul had alnat ways fit in anywhere and been able to talk to
anyone.  As I watched him with the owner, I could sense part of the
answer. He was a gentle man.  He never alarmed anyone.  He had never
liked confrontations-which was what I had tried to force him into.  But
didn't we all need to take a stand sometime?

As I went outside with him, new confusion began to stir in me.  Would I
ever be able to see him through that haze of loving admiration that I
once had?

The area around the restaurant was given over to businesses and was
brightly lighted.  We drove south along a darker central road and Paul
opened the car windows to let in breezes from the sea.  I breathed
deeply and tried to think of nothing except the fact that I was with my
husband-where I wanted to be.

Nevertheless, when we turned down the side road that led between the
stunted, intertwined trees of the maritime forest, I began to dread what
we were about to do.

"You can't possibly see anything at night" I warned him.

"I have a flashlight.  Besides, it's not just seeing a hole in the
ground-it's a lot more."

I didn't know what he meant, but I held back any further objection.

He left the car on the road and we got out to walk past the captain's
house, where lights burned upstairs, and I heard the sound of voices.
The clearing was dimly lighted by the standard over near the Cameron
house, and the Pirate's Pit was lost in deep shadow.

Suppressing my dread, I led the way toward where the wire fence circled
the black emptiness in the ground.  I wasn't sure what Paul wanted, but
I had to go along.

Vines and shrubbery had almost enveloped the sandy earth, and the green
tangle showed as Paul played his flashlight around the area.

He pushed his way into the growth nearest the fence, lifting strands of
vines with his free hand.  We could look up at a space ' ible between
crowing tree branches and glimpse a moon vis   di     lit sky.  When
Paul tipped his head back, I could see his face, grave and absorbed.

As he spoke, his voice was low.  "This could very well be where it
happened."

"How can you say that?" I whispered.

"It's as if there's a haunting in this place.  Something terrible has
left a stain.  Some places can become marked ground, you know."

This was what Corey-and perhaps Dulcie, too-had felt.  I didn't want to
believe.  "What good does it do, even if you think that?  How can it
lead us to an answer?"

"I don't expect it to.  I just wanted to get a sense of the place."

Dulcie must have been watching us from nearby, for she came over to
stand beside us.  "That's where I found it," she said.

"Right over there."

Paul had no idea what she meant, but quite suddenly I knew.

"How did you find it, Dulcie?"

"I saw the purple color shining under the moon.  The stones almost
winked at me.  So I crawled past the vines on the edge of the pit, and
it was just lodged there-the rock with the amethyst.  I think somebody
must have tried to throw it down the hole.  Whoever it was didn't see
that it hadn't fallen in.  It was just stuck there.  So I got it out and
took it up to my room.  I didn't know what it meant, but I was scared,
so I hid it in MY chest and never showed it to anyone until I gave it to
you, hallie."

"What are you talking about?" Paul asked.

Dulcie suddenly looked frightened and she didn't stay to explain. She
ran off toward the house, and I heard a screen door slam.

"Come upstairs" I said to Paul, "and I'll show you what she means.

We went through the open space under the captain's house, then headed
upstairs.  I was glad to meet no one on the way to my room.

"This was Anne's room originally" I said, turning on a light.

"After her grandmother left, Susan began to use it.  Mrs.  Orion has
given it to me.  The main bedrooms are upstairs."

He stood looking around as I had done the first time I'd stepped into
this room.  I knew he noticed the wide bed with its two pillows, but his
eyes moved from it quickly.  There were no madly colored paintings to
hold his attention, and for the first time I saw how bare the walls
were.  Not that it mattered-I wouldn't be here much longer.  The pageant
at the Assembly Building was two days ahead, and I had promised to stay
for it, but after that I couldn't be sure of anything.  Even though I'd
enjoyed our dinner together tonight, all the questions about Paul
remained.  My moments of acceptance that had seemed like clarity were
fading.

I went to the bookcase and showed him the amethyst geode. Then I took
its twin from my suitcase.  He turned the second amethyst cluster around
in his hands and saw the damaged facets.

I sat down on the edge of a chair.  "This is what Dulcie found caught on
the lip of that hole out there.  I wondered if it might have been used
as a weapon against Susan, but that doesn't seem possible.  It would be
so heavy and clumsy."

"Yes." He weighed the stone doubtfully in his hands.  "There must be
something here that we're missing.  Have you any suspicion at all?"

I shook my head.  "I've gone round and round hopelessly. Corey is
convinced that Susan's body went down the pit.  But it's only a
feeling-the same as yours.  If she'd been pushed, she would surely have
screamed.  But no one heard anything."

"The more I find out, the more questions there are.  I'd still like to
meet the other actors in this tragedy."

"Perhaps you can.  Tomorrow morning there's a dress rehearsal of the
pageant at the Assembly Building.  I don't think anyone would mind if
you came to watch.  At least you could meet Carlina.  And I'm sure
others will be there."

"i'd like to come," Paul said.  "Brenda said she was going to attend, so
maybe I can come with her.  She'll know everyone."

He gave the amethyst back to me and picked up its twin from the
bookcase, while I returned the damaged geode to its hiding place.  Paul
was ready to leave.

"Thank you for tonight, hallie." He said, his tone gentle and
affectionate, but he made no move to touch me.  We were still uncertain
about each other, and I wondered again if the trust we'd once had could
ever be recovered.

I thanked him for dinner and knew that I sounded stiff.  He said he
could find his way out, and I said     I'd let him leave alone.

When he'd gone I stood for a while staring absently at the too-wide bed
I was beginning to hate.

The next morning, when I went out on the deck for breakfast, I found
Mrs. Orion bustling about, directing both Corey and the captain.  She
didn't look pleased, and I gathered quickly that she disapproved of a
plan the captain had suggested.

It seemed the whole household was going to the Assembly Building to
watch the rehearsal.  Carlina had suggested it to the captain on the
phone, and apparently he'd thought the idea entertaining.  He was
already up and dressed, and seemed more cheerful than at any time since
I'd arrived.  Anne's doing, perhaps.  Corey was managing his wheelchair.

"We need to be there early if we're to find a good place for the captain
to watch," Mrs.  Orion said.  "If we pick a spot near an exit, he can
leave quietly before he begins to tire."

Corey refled his eyes at me, but the captain's good humor held, and he
accepted Mrs.  Orion's bossing without objection.

After they'd left, I finished my breakfast and then set off at my own
pace.  This event wasn't something I needed to show up for at any
special time, and I needn't stay longer than I wished.  My mood swings
of yesterday had settled into something that resembled steady gloom and
discouragement.  There had been good moments the night before with Paul,
but I didn't know what would happen when we returned to California.  The
thought of Susan deepened my depression, and I had less belief than ever
that any answers would be found.

The only thing that lifted my spirits a little was the prospect of
seeing Paul that morning if he came to the Assembly Building with
Brenda.  No matter that nothing was settled in my mind-I would see him.
And perhaps when I did I would know how I truly felt.

Mrs.  O had said I might use her car again, since they were taking the
captain's van, which accommodated his wheelchair.  I made the short
drive slowly.  When I arrived mothers were busy fussing with their
children's costumes.  There were shrill admonishments not to get dirty,
since an this would be repeated the following night for real.

Carlina was very much in charge.  She had on jeans and an oversized
shirt, and her hair was tied back with a flowered scarf. She looked both
excited and worried.  Fergus wasn't there, and perhaps that made it
easier for her.

Corey had found a corner where the captain would be out of the way in
his chair and could see what was happening without being jostled.  I
discovered Paul at once, and we smiled at each other across the room.
I'd hoped that seeing him would clarify something, but I knew even less
than I had the day before.  He had been commandeered into arranging
chairs before the platform and he kept busy at his task.  Brenda was
bustling about making herself useful, and she waved to me cheerfully.

The most delightful sight was Dulcie, who looked beautiful in a white,
gold-spangled tutu, with a wreath of white roses around her head,
contrasting nicely with her red hair.  When I discovered her, she was
sitting cross-legged on the saddle of her remarkable horse.  He was, by
necessity, a fairly large animal, because he needed to hold the oblong
wooden platform on which Dulcie was to do her little dance.

I went over to admire the imaginative creature.  His wicked black eyes
gave him the look of being about to bolt, and his lush mane, made of
green plastic curls, fell over the side of his neck. His large body was
dappled in patches of green and white, and his mouth had been painted
lipstick red, with the lips drawn back to show a fierce set of
papier-which& teeth.

"He's really something," I told Dulcie, and she nodded proudly.

"Maximilian's not made of paper, you know.  There's a wooden form
underneath, so he's strong enough to hold me."

Some small, out-of-control Indians were chasing one another across the
stage, before being herded together by a teacher under Carlina's
direction.  The theme of the pageant was the history of Topsail Island,
so Indians were a necessity.  Even the towers were represented.  Two
cardboard forms hid small boys whose eyes peered out the top windows.
The towers kept running about-completely out of character.

Several people who knew the captain had gathered around his chair.  Even
Ryce was there, though I didn't see Louise, who was supposed to sing.
Mrs.  Orion seemed tense and nervous, and she reluctantly gave up the
captain's guardianship to his son, while she went off to rest her feet.

As soon as she could escape Carlina's supervision, Brenda came over to
me.  "Hi, Hallie.  Let's get Corey and Paul and go OUTSIDE FOR A FEW
MINUTES.

I want to show you something We waved Paul over, and as soon as Corey
could get away, the four of us went outside.  I still felt a little
spacey being near Paul-as though part of me was a young girl falling in
love all over again.  I had no idea how he felt.  He was fitting himself
to the occasion lightheartedly, as he always did.

The spark that Brenda could generate was back in her eyes, ( as she
looked mysterious.  Corey watched her WITH OBVIOUS DELIGHT.

"Of course, we have to swear you and Paul to secrecy, hallie," she
warned.  "At least a blood oath!"

"We'll promise to keep our lips zipped" Paul said, falling into the
spirit of whatever she was about, and we an laughed.

We went down the central steps of the porch that fronted the wide
building, and Corey stood for a moment looking up with satisfaction at
the large sign that faced the road.

ASSEMBLY BUILDING

Topsoil Island Community Center

"I get a good feeling when I look at that sign," he said.  "Better an
assembly building for people than for missiles."

Brenda paid no attention.  She had scurried around the front corner
where low, thick bushes grew, and when a car pulled up to let out more
visitors for the rehearsal, she pretended an interest in some distant
spot.

Corey grinned at us.  "She's never grown up, and I hope she never will.

We joined Brenda and she reached back to pull me into the narrow space
behind a screen of bushes.  Paul came close behind with Corey, and we
watched as Brenda pulled at a board that blocked our way.  It creaked
open under her hand, forming an opening into a long, dark, descending
alleyway.

This must be the childhood hiding place where Brenda, Susan, and Corey
had held their secret meetings.  Corey produced a flashlight and its
beam showed a cramped passageway whose ceiling just grazed our heads.
There were cobwebs that Brenda brushed aside casually before hurrying on
to another door, which opened into a larger space.  She touched an
electric switch, but no lights came on, and Corey played his torch beam
around the room.

"We're under that hollow place in the floor up there," Brenda said.
"Susan found this place a long time ago.  I suppose the grown-ups knew,
but they let us alone."

Under the roving beam I could see that furnishings had been brought in-a
rickety table, a couch, and two dilapidated chairs. Mice, or even
something larger, had been at work, and what remained of fabric and
upholstery had been finished off by moths.  A heap of cushions lay in
shadow on the low couch.

Brenda shook her head sadly.  "We had it fixed up so beautifully.  We
painted everything, and we brought swatches of colored cloth to brighten
things up.  What meetings we used to have!  Susan always ran them
because she liked to be in charge. Corey and I let her do as she pleased
and be what she pleasedqueen or empiress or president.  Whatever."

Corey picked up an old notebook covered with dust and flipped pages
under the light.  "Susan's writing" he said.  "She used to keep minutes
until the idea began to bore her."


Paul was poking around, looking into corners.  There was something
disturbing about this place and I wondered if he felt it, too.

Brenda ran on, sounding sad.  "I thought it might be fun to go back, but
it's only depressing-a lot of junk.  We were so young in those days.
I've had enough.  Let's go."

She started toward the door, but Paul stopped her.  "Wait a minute.
Corey, let's have your light."

As he ran the flashlight beam along the couch, we all stood watching,
transfixed.  What we'd thought was a heap of cushions was a woman who
lay stretched out on the couch, facedown.  A woman's body.  Corey moved
gingerly to turn her over and Paul played the light on her face.
Louise's eyes were closed and she looked white as death.

Paul bent over, putting his fingers to her throat.  "She's alive. We
need a doctor or a nurse."

"Go get my mother, hallie," Corey said.  "And somebody call an
ambulance.  Better find Ryce.  I saw him upstairs with the captain.
We'll stay here."

I bent over Louise and spoke her name, but her eyes didn't open and she
didn't make a sound or move.

"Hurry!" Corey said.

I found my way back upstairs and met Mrs.  Orion at the front door.  She
came down with me, and the sight of Louise sent her into a state of
trembling that surprised me.  She did what little she could with hands
that shook, and said nothing at all.

When the ambulance arrived, Corey guided the men into the dusty room
with their stretcher.  Ryce had been found and he was visibly shaken. He
traveled to the hospital with his wife in the ambulance.

Brenda looked as upset as Mrs.  Orion had, and she refused to stay for
the rest of the rehearsal, preferring to wait outside on the steps in
the sunshine.  Paul and Corey and I followed his mother back to the
captain's chair.

"Don't say anything to anyone," Corey warned us.  "Let the rehearsal go
on, and don't upset the captain."

Mrs.  Orion looked as though she was not about to speak at all, and when
the captain said something to her sharply, she didn't seem to hear him.

I still felt shocked, but now I was occupied with the question of what
Louise had been doing in that place.  I had no answer, but the question
would keep on nagging at me for the next few days.

Upset as I was, I held on to one handle of the wheelchair for support
and simply watched as the rehearsal continued.

We were in time to see Dulcie perform the little dance she'd shown me.
She proved to be her mother's daughter and a born performer.  I will
always remember the picture she made-a red-haired little girl in a white
tutu moving gracefully on the green-and-white make-believe horse she had
named Maximilian.

Carlina knew something was wrong, but she didn't learn the details until
the rehearsal was over.  She was as disturbed as the rest of us, but
mostly anxious to get Dulcie away before she could hear what had
happened.

When he'd assured himself that I was all right, Paul left with Brenda.
The captain had tired, so Mrs.  Orion and Corey took him back to the
house in the van.  I followed in the car I'd borrowed from Mrs.  Orion.
When I arrived at the house, I found that Corey had told the captain
what had happened.

He'd gone even further and given him Louise's whole story, which Brenda
had revealed years ago but he'd kept secret until now.

I wished Corey had been more discreet.  The captain was more disturbed
about Louise's past than about what had happened to her in the present.
Mrs.  Orion seemed to have collected herself, and she shooed everyone
out of the captain's room so she could get him some quiet.  I found
myself watching her and wondering what it was that had upset her so
badly. What did she know about Louise?

Later in the day I was sent in to read to the captain, and I was there
when Anne arrived.  By now Corey-whatever his motives-had told her
everything, too, so no one needed to explain.  When I got up to leave,
the captain stopped me.

"No, I want you to stay and listen" he ordered, his indignation over as
he turned to Anne.  "Ryce will have to divorce her now. He'll be well
out of a marriage that was a mistake in the first place."

I hoped that Anne would have more sympathy for Louise than the captain
did.

She answered him quietly.  "If she recovers, that's going to be up to
Ryce, isn't it?"

"He'll do what I say!  It's time to get rid of that woman."

"I can't say I like her either, but let's wait and see what happens.

At least Anne and the captain were referring to themselves as us and we
again.

When he had calmed down, Anne reached for one of two books on his night
table.

"I hope you've had time to look into these, Nicholas;' she said.

A gleam came into his eyes.  I'm reading that top one-it's pretty
arresting."

"I thought you'd think so.  By the way, Nicholas, there's a doctor in
Wilmington who I'd like to bring to see you."

"I've had enough of doctors!  These days they only tell me when I'm
going to die and they've been wrong so far."

She gave him a smile that lighted her face and was reflected in his.
"This one may show you a way to live.  You've already got what it takes.
It's the feisty ones who get well-not the passive ones who give up too
easily.

I knew how quickly he'd have dismissed such remarks from most people.
But he seemed ready to listen to Anne.

In the days following, the captain grew visibly stronger, and we could
all see the way he looked forward to Anne's visits.  None of us went to
the pageant, though word came afterward that it had gone very well.  The
only casualty was a small Indian who fell off the platform and received
assorted black-and-blue marks for the tumble.  A good sum of money had
been raised to further the preservation of the Assembly Building and to
support plans for a museum the Historical Society was going to build in
its vast spaces.

For the moment, matters between Paul and me were at a standstill.  A
wariness had grown between us that neither one seemed willing or able to
break through.  Yet neither of us made a move to return to California.

Louise was still in the hospital recovering from what proved to have
been a mild stroke.  We still had no idea what she'd been doing in that
room, or what had caused her collapse.  Ryce spent a good deal of time
with her, and I wondered if she was enjoying his attention.  Richard
Merrick was away and removed from all that had happened.

Corey seemed more worried about his mother than about anything else.
"She's got something on her mind" he told me, "but she won't talk about
it.  She scares me sometimes, since I've never seen her like this. Once,
when I questioned her, she just Said trouble was costing A quiet
standoff existed between Ryce and his father for several days and then
one afternoon the friction between them came to a head.

It began when I had stopped in to see the captain and found him in bed,
with Mrs.  Orion standing on one side and Anne on the other.

"I don't need you now," he snapped at Mrs.  Orion, and she went away,
affronted.  Then he told Anne and me in the same voice, "For God's sake,
sit down." We sat and he lay quietly for a moment, seemingly exhausted
by his outburst.  Then he drew in a deep breath, opened his eyes, and
began to speak more quietly.

"When I was a small boy, I lived in a world of giants who ordered my
life and told me what I could and could not do.  Now I'm an old man, and
I lie in this bed and look up at more giants, vigorous with life.  They
tower over me and make me feel the same way-helpless."

Anne reached for his hand.  "Not me," she said softly.  "I'm only a
pygmy, any dear."

He didn't withdraw his hand.  "Why did you go away?"

"You know the answer very well."

"It takes so long to learn," he said, his eyes fixed on Anne's face.
"Sometimes I think I'm orily beginning now."

I kept very still, lest I interrupt the stirring of emotion that was
surfacing between these two.

He went on in the same low voice.  "When it's too late, maybe that's
when we learn that there was a better way."

"Perhaps it's never too late.  In the end I suppose we grow and change,
or we deteriorate.  I'm still trying to grow."

"I wonder if there's any time left for me?"

She spoke with a loving gentleness.  "Of course there is, if you make it
so.  all we have is nou-if only we can use it."

He sighed deeply and I could see his hand tighten around Anne's.

just then Ryce came into the room and stood looking down at his mother
and father.  Another giant, and an angry one. When he spoke I could hear
a cold, biting fury in his voice.  Finally it was out.

"Louise has told me everything that happened to her when she was young."
His eyes moved from one to the other of his parents, and there was no
forgiveness in him.  "I'm taking her home to GuHs Cove soon, so she can
rest and recover."

The captain's face had darkened.  "I've heard her story, too, and she's
not someone we want in our family.  You should divorce her, now."

The top heat of Ryce's anger was suppressed beneath ice. "I'm not going
to divorce her.  She needs me, and I need her. That's something neither
of you will ever understand."

I saw Anne's stricken look and knew that she understood very well.
Perhaps no one had ever needed Ryce before-not his mother, or his
father, or his daughter.  all of them had been too preoccupied with
their own affairs.

For once the captain was silenced, staring at his son.

Anne bent toward him.  "He's right, you know, Nicholas.  We both have a
lot to make up for."

I slipped out of the room, leaving the three of them to work this out
alone.  One thing I recognized, with agit of my own spirits: The captain
was not as sick as he had been.  He was not merely rebelling against a
disease-which he had been doingbut, with Anne at his side, he might
really insist on living.

Unexpectedly, I went to visit Louise in the hospital before Royce took
her home.  I had no wish to see her, but since she'd asked for me, I
agreed to go and Ryce drove me in.  When we got to her room, she told
him she wanted to see me alone, and he kissed her and went away.

She sat in a chair by the window.  Her hair, darkening a little at the
roots, had been twisted into a severe braid that hung over one shoulder.
Her expensive dressing gown belonged to the Louise I'd known before, but
nothing else about her resembled the model she'd once been.  The only
remaining sign of her stroke was a slight hesitation in the movements of
her left hand.

Aside from when she greeted me, her tone was absent, as though she spoke
more to herself than to me.

"I'm beginning to realize the sort of man my husband is," she said.
"He's been here every day.  He doesn't mind how I lookhe cares about me.
" Her voice broke.  "I know Nicholas will want him to divorce me because
of what happened in the past, but Ryce accepts me as I am now." Her
smile twisted wryly.  "I wonder if I'm falling in love."

"Why did you want to see me, Louise?" I asked gently.

When she spoke again she seemed like a mixture of two women-the loving
one Brenda had known long ago, and the hard, grasping woman she had
become.  Perhaps she wasn't sure herself which one governed her actions
now.

She motioned me to a chair beside hers.  "Ryce tells me you'll be
leaving Topsail soon."

"I expect so," I said.

"Have you given up the quest the captain brought you here for?"

"Quest?"

"To find out what happened to Susan."

This startled me, so I waited in silence to see where the subject would
take her.

She was quiet for a moment and when she spoke her voice was low.  "I can
tell you who killed her.  I've always known, but I've never told
anyone."

There was nothing I could do but wait as I held on to the arms of my
chair.  She looked almost pleased at the effect she had made.

"It was Mrs.  Orion who killed her."

I found that hard to believe, even though Mrs.  O had been behaving
strangely in the last few days.

I managed to find words.  "But why-?  What happened?"

"You needn't know the details.  You won't want to pursue this.  Think
what it would do to the captain.  He depends on Mrs.  Orion more than on
anyone else.  What would be the use in exposing her?  In bringing a
woman her age to justice?"

"It matters a great deal to the captain."

Her tone turned sharp.  "That can't be helped."

I tried another approach.  "Why were you in that room under the Assembly
Building?  What caused you to have a stroke?"

She didn't want to tell me.  To my surprise,-she left her chair and
walked about the room.  "See!  I'm quite strong again!  Ryce will take
me home soon."

"Tell me," I said.

The look she gave me was suddenly helpless, and I knew she couldn't
stand up to pressure.  She returned to her chair and began to speak
slowly.

all right-I' tell you this much.  Mrs.  Orion wanted to talk to me
privately.  I thought I could frighten her if I got her down to that
room where the children used to play.  She hates that place."

"Why did you want to frighten her?"

"That doesn't matter now."

"So what happened?"

"She threatened me." Louise's voice rose.  "She actually threatened me."

I tried to calm her.  "Perhaps you'd better not talk now.  I'll call
Ryce."

Her right hand reached out and clasped mine tightly.  "I'm an right.
Don't go."

I tried another question.  "How did she threaten you?"

"She said it was time for the captain to know what had happened.  I
couldn't allow that.  Not on top of everything else.  I told her that if
she opened this up with the captain, I would tell him the truth about
her-that she had killed Susan.  She was furious with me.  We were both
pretty excited; I have a blood pressure problem-and I got too angry.
That's the last I remember until I woke up here."

"Mrs.  Orion-a nurse-went away and left you there?" This I couldn't
understand.  It didn't seem in character.

"That's what she must have done.  But if you talk to her, she will twist
everything to protect herself.  She may do this even if you don't say
anything.  That's why I wanted you to be warned and on your guard."

"Have you told Royce?"

This alarmed her.  "Oh, no!  I couldn't do that.  If he were to believe
Mrs.  Orion's lies, he might easily blame me for his daughter's death.
I'm much too vulnerable because of what has already happened to me in
the past."

"Brenda told me some of your story."

"She would!"

"I think she admired you.  You've given up enough.  Ryce will understand
whatever you may tell him now."

"I can't risk it.  He could forgive me a great deal.  But not this."

"What do you mean?  You said Mrs.  Orion killed Susan. Though I still
find that hard to believe."

Louise put her face in her hands.  "It's more complicated than you can
possibly guess.  But I don't see what I can do if Mrs. Orion tells him
her lies about what happened.  That's what they will be lies!"

Neither of us had heard Ryce when he came to the door. "What lies?  What
are you talking about?"

Louise began to cry softly, helplessly.

"You've upset her," he said to me.  "Whatever it is, Louise, WILL take
care of "It.  Don't you worry.  Mrs.  Knight, I'd better take you back
to the captain's now."

I went with him quickly, feeling more bewildered than ever.

He dropped me off at the house, but wouldn't come in. When I went
upstairs Dulcie came running to meet me.

"Miss Anne left, in the boat" she informed me, "and Mrs. Orion and Corey
went, too."

"Leaving the captain alone?" I asked.

"Mrs. O said I should look in on him once in a while and see if he needs
anything.  She said they'd be back soon.  But I don't know what it's all
about and I'm scared."

I tried to reassure her.  "Everything is probably fine.  I'D stop in to
see the captain."

She accepted that and seemed glad to escape.  When I went into his room,
the captain was in a peevish mood over being "abandoned." I gave him a
censored version of my visit to the hospital, but he didn't want to hear
about Louise; he wanted Mrs.  Orion, and on the double.  When I told him
that she and Anne Trench had gone off together, and suggested that I
stay with him, he grumbled that he didn't want a baby-sitter.  So I went
outdoors to where Dulcie sat in the swing, pushing herself lazily with
one foot.

I decided this was a good time to find out more about the geode she had
found on the edge of the Pirate's Pit.  She stopped the swing when I
reached her.

"Dulcie," I said, "I wonder if there's something more you can tell me
about what happened with the geode you found.  If you don't tell me the
rest, the wrong person might be blamed for what happened to Susan." This
was reaching, but I had to try.

Tears weren't far away, but this time Dulcie didn't run from me.  She
clearly needed to talk to someone, and I drew her into the shade under
the captain's house, where there was a wide, comfortable bench and we
could sit together.

"Can you tell me about it now?" I asked gently.

Her need to confide was stronger than her reluctance, and she began to
speak rapidly.  "I couldn't really see much outside that night-it was
too dark.  But I think my mother was there."

"With Susan?"

"I don't know.  I had a feeling there were two people." She paused and
then rushed on.  "Susan and Mom were already mad at each other and I
know they'd had a fight.  I guess Susan loved her grandmother so much
that she couldn't stand the captain's liking my mother.  One time I
heard Susan tell her what she would do if Mom didn't stay away from him.
Mom can get pretty mad sometimes, too, so when I heard them shouting at
each other, I went away from the house, and I didn't go back until
everything was quiet again."

Dulcie stopped, not wanting to go on.

"I can't help if you don't tell me," I said.

She took a deep breath and plunged ahead.  "When I saw someone down at
the pit that night, I thought it was my mother.  I waited before I went
down.  That's when I found the geode.  But I didn't think about what
might have happened until it turned out that Susan was missing.  The
geode had been in her room, so I began to think that my mother
had-hadBut it's not true, is it?"

She began to cry and I put my arm around her.  "No, I don't think it's
true at all."

After what Louise had said, I didn't believe that Carlina had gone down
to the pit that night.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," I assured her.  "I'm
glad that everything seems to be fine with your father and mother, and
that Anne is coming to see the captain.  I want to find out what really
happened to Susan if I can."

She sniffled, and when I gave her a tissue, she wiped her eyes and blew
her nose.  "I'm okay now, hallie.  I'm glad you're here."

She ran back to the tree and began to swing more vigorously now, and I
went upstairs and looked in on the captain, to find him sleeping.  As I
started across to my room, the phone rang and I answered it.  An
official from the hospital was on the line, asking for Ryce.  She hadn't
been able to reach him at home.

"It's urgent that I talk to him," she said.

"He's not here, and I have no idea where he might be!" I said. "Is there
anything I can do?"

"Mrs.  Trench has dressed herself and left the hospital without telling
anyone.  We must let her husband know."

"If I hear from him, I'll have him call you," I said.

I hung up feeling thoroughly upset.  Louise had shown another side when
I visited her, but the harder self was still in control, and her running
away seemed frightening.  Nothing else could be done for the moment so
far as Ryce was concerned, but things seemed to be getting out of hand,
and suddenly I knew what I must do.

 I phoned Mrs.  Varldy and asked to speak to Paul.  When I heard his
voice on the line, I kept everything simple.  "I need YOU I said..

"I'll be there in a few MINUTES he told me and hung up.

I waited for him at the top of the stairs, and when he arrived in the
promised few minutes, we went to sit on the wide deck overlooking the
sound.  The spring sunshine was mild and pleasant, the air invigorating.
Or perhaps it was just that Paul was with me that he had come at once
when I called him.

I described my visit to the hospital, the talk with Louise, and repeated
what she had said about Mrs.  Orion.  "Both Corey and his mother have
disappeared, too, so the captain is alone, except for Dulcie and me.
It's as though something terrible is happening just out of sight.  Or
about to happen, and I don't know what to do."

"There's nothing we can do but wait," he said, and took my hand to hold
it gently.  "As soon as there's been some unraveling here, though,
hallie, I think we should go home.  Together-if you're willing.

I was ready and willing.  "I'm not sure what you want for us, Paul.  Or
even what I want for myself.  Except to be with you."

"Perhaps what we both want is for everything to be the way it used to
be.  But I don't think we can ever go back.  Do you suppose we might
figure out something for the future if we try?"

"I want that, too!" I said.  A melting seemed to start inside me-a
thawing, a release that let old anger flow away.  Perhaps Paul and I
could avoid what had happened to Nicholas and Anne Trench so long ago.

"We used to have something important in our marriage," he 'd. "Marriages
often break up because the couple that marred sal I     I in all that
first excitement finds that they don't really have much in common.  That
wasn't the case with us."

What he said was true.  We'd both been interested in so many of the same
things.  We were friends soon after we met and best friends when we
married.  And that needn't be lost.  A new hope stirred in me.

We had been so focused on each other that we failed to notice the sound
of a boat approaching until it drew in below the captain's house.  It
was Corey, with Anne Trench and Mrs.  Orion.

We watched as he got out of the boat and helped the two women onto the
dock.  Anne looked up and waved, and in moments they had joined us up on
the deck.

Mrs.  Orion spoke first.  She looked pale, and perhaps a little guilty.
"Is the captain all right, Mrs.  Knight?  I needed to leave quickly.
Corey was just about to cast off, and Mrs.  Trench was in the boat, so I
went with them."

"He's fine," I said.  "I came home from the hospital a little while ago.
When I looked in Just now, he was asleep."

Mrs.  Orion started toward his room, but Anne stopped her. "Wait until
you're calmer.  You'll only alarm him now.  Everything will work itself
out if you'll give it time.  You were right to come and talk to me. When
it's possible, we'll go and see Louise together."

"When it's possible" I said.  "She's left the hospital and no one knows
where she's gone.  The hospital hasn't been able to locate Ryce."

Mrs.  Orion was visibly alarmed by this news.  "I don't trust her.  She
tricked me into going down to that room under the Assembly Building."

"She told me you were there with her," I said, "but she wouldn't tell me
what happened."

"That's just as well.  I don't know what her version might be, but
everyone's got to know the whole story.  I told Louise that myself, but
she got terribly upset.  I shouldn't have left her down there after she
collapsed, but I was afraid I'd be blamed and I ran."

I had never seen Mrs.  Orion so close to going to pieces, but she sat
down, pulled herself together, and went on.

"Please believe me when I tell you that I came to my senses. I am a
nurse, after all.  I was returning to take care of her when you came
looking for me, Mrs.  Knight.  Afterwards, when Louise was taken to the
hospital, I didn't know what to do. Until I went to see you, Mrs.
Trench, I was still too confused to act.  Now I know that everything
must be told, no matter what happens to Louise and me."

Mrs.  Orion closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Corey put his
hand on her shoulder.  "Hang on, Ma.  Nothing's going to happen to you."

I had to say what I did, though I spoke very softly.  "Mrs. Orion, did
you kill Susan?"

Her eyes flew open and she stared at me a look that was sad and
hopeless.  "I didn't kill her, but I helped Louise to conceal what
happened.  I couldn't stand up to her when she was so desperate."

"You've told me the story" Anne said, "and I believe you've told me the
truth.  There's nothing Louise can do without hurting herself"

Before Anne could explain, someone came running up the stairs.  I turned
to watch as Louise rushed out to the deck.  She looked frantic, her eyes
wild.  In her headlong rush she saw no one but Mrs.  Orion.

Corey stopped her, blocking her way.  Her hand came up to strike him,
but he caught it and held it.  For a moment she struggled, then
collapsed against him.

"I won't go to prison again!" she cried.  "I'll kill myself first!

Anne pulled over another chair and she and Corey helped Louise to sit
down.  "No one is going to prison," Anne assured her quietly.  "Mrs.
Orion has told me exactly what happened.  If there was blame, it
belonged to three people.  You and Mrs. Orion-and Susan.  Perhaps most
of all to Susan.  I can understand how frightened you both must have
been when it happened.  Ryce didn't know your story then, Louise, and
you didn't know that you could trust him.  You thought the safe life
you'd picked for yourself was going to collapse, so you went a bit out
of your head.  I've been there-I know what it's like.  But Ryce must be
told how his daughter died.  You understand that, Louise?"

Louise's strength had given out.  She began to cry softly.  I looked at
Paul, but he could only shake his head.  Neither of us spoke.

Again I heard someone running up the stairs, and this time it was Ryce
who hurried toward us.  He didn't see Louise slumped in her chair.

He began to talk before he reached us.  "I called the hospital and they
told me Louise had left without a word to anyone. Have you heard-?" He
saw her then, where she sat, still huddled over, and he went to her at
once.  "I don't know why you ran out of the hospital.  I would have
brought you here if you wanted to come."

She looked at him through her tears and held up her hand to meet his. "I
just want to go home to Guns Cove."

Before he could help her to her feet, Anne spoke in her firm, calm
voice.  "Please sit down, Ryce.  We need to talk.  But first I think the
captain must be here to hear this."

Mrs.  Orion shook her head.  "No!  Please!  He isn't strong enough. This
would be too much."

"He's stronger than you think," Anne replied.  "I'll get him. Take some
time and quiet down.  We need to find an answer to what we do next."

She went off toward the captain's room, while the rest of us waited.
Ryce was doing his best to comfort Louise, though he had no more idea
than Paul and I about what had happened.

Corey had pulled a chair over so he could sit beside his mother, and was
holding her hand.  "It's going to be all right," he told her.  "You
haven't done anything."

"But I have!" she cried.  "I have, and there's no way out."

It took Anne a few moments to rouse the captain from his sleep and get
him into his wheelchair, and when he was settled into our circle on the
deck, Anne spoke to Louise in her gentlest voice.

"Will you tell us about the geodes that seem to have started everything,
Louise?"

For a moment it seemed as though Louise couldn't-or wouldn't-speak, but
Ryce put an arm about her.  "It's all right. Is she talking about the
geode amethysts I gave you and Susan?"

Louise nodded silently.

"I bought a pair that were bookends" Ryce said, "but then I thought I
would give one to you and one to Susan, since they were each very
beautiful and unusual.  Susan had been depressed and I thought the gift
might cheer her up.  So what happened, Louise?"

She roused herself and began to speak.  "Susan phoned me and wanted me
to let her have the geode you'd given her.  She said they belonged
together and she had to have them.  She sounded too excited, and I gave
in right away.  It was getting toward dusk, but we have a good light on
our boat, so I meant to run quickly across the sound, give her the
geode, and get back before dark.  But when I reached the dock she was
waiting for me, and I think she was nearly out of control."

Louise looked up at her husband and he touched her cheek gently.  "She
could be like that.  I understand."

I saw that Mrs.  Orion was watching this changed Louise as though she
couldn't altogether accept her.

After she'd drawn a deep breath, steadying herself, Louise continued.
"Apparently Brenda had just told Susan about my being in prison and what
happened in New York.  Susan never liked me for marrying you, Ryce, and
she was furious because I'd deceived you and hadn't told you all the
truth about myself. She was waiting for me at the end of the dock, and
the minute I climbed out to give her the geode, she started in on me.
She was crazy-wild and she called me terrible names and accused me of
all sorts of things I hadn't done.  You heard her, Mrs. Orion.  She'd
brought you down there to hear what she meant to say to me.  You told me
that."

"Yes" Mrs.  Orion said quietly.

So you knew the provocation and why I got angry.  I never intended what
happened.  You would've thought that geode would be too heavy to throw,
but when I got mad enough, I threw it at her.  It struck her squarely in
the face and she went backward into the water.  The geode fell on the
dock, and in the light from the boat I could see the blood on it-Susan's
blood. She died and I am to blame."

Louise put her face in her hands and began to cry again.

"No," Mrs.  Orion said.  "You weren't to blame not entirely. I saw what
you were too upset to see.  Susan was standing there beyond you and
there was blood on her face, but the rock didn't knock her into the
water.  She had her hand up to her face in pain, but she took it down
and there was an instant before she stepped backward into the water.  I
don't think she knew how close the edge was.  It happened very fast, but
I know what I saw.  Susan swam under the dock we were standing on. She
probably wanted to hold on to a piling."

Louise raised her head.  "You never told me that."

"You didn't give me a chance.  You were completely panicked and later
you were only thinking about saving yourself."

"I did try to save her.  You know I tried."

"Yes, you did." She turned to us again.  "When Louise got hold of
herself, she jumped into the water and tried to find Susan."

"It was dark around the dock and I couldn't locate her right away,"
Louise told us sadly.  "It was that long scarf she'd wound around her
neck that trapped her.  A big cruiser had gone by right as she went into
the water.  It sent waves clear to the dock, so that Susan's scarf got
caught in the pilings.  I had to tear it loose before I could bring her
to shore.  You helped me drag her out of the water, Mrs.  Orion."

Corey's mother spoke sadly.  "We did our best to save her.  I knew the
routine, but nothing helped.  That's when I should have stood up to you,
Louise, but you frightened me.  You said you'd blame me if I didn't help
you."

Louise looked up at her husband, her voice muffled.  "I thought I'd
killed her and that you'd never forgive me.  all I could think of was
that I could be sent back to prison again. I made Mrs.  Orion help me. I
think she was afraid of me by that time."

Ryce quieted her with a soothing hand, and Mrs.  Orion went on.  "It's
true.  I helped Louise drag Susan back to the Pirate's Pit.  It was dark
by that time, and no one had been watching from the captain's house. God
forgive me, I helped her put Susan's body down the hole.  Then I went
back to the dock and picked up the bloodstained geode, and threw that
into the hole, too.  Louise got a brush and water and scrubbed the dock.
Then she went back across the sound and we never talked about any of
what had happened again, except once, when she reminded me that I was an
accessory and in danger myself if the truth ever came out.  But what I
knew has been eating at me for a long time, and when Mrs.  Knight came
here and began to stir things UP, I knew I had to talk to someone."

"And you did" Anne said.  "You came to me, which was the right thing to
do."

The whole grim story had been told.  Now the question remained of what
must be done in the aftermath.  I went to stand beside Paul at the rail,
and he put his arm around me.

The captain had been silent through the whole telling, and I saw that
Anne was watching him anxiously.  The answers had been given-the answers
that he wanted.

Ryce spoke first.  "What do we do now?  Dad, whatever happens, I will
stand by Louise."

Nicholas Trench focused on his son.  "As a man should stand beside his
wife." He didn't look at Anne.

"We have to go to the police," Mrs.  Orion said.  "There's no other
way."

"I'm not sure that's necessary." I knew by the sound of the captain's
voice that he was in control again.

"If nothing else, a dead body has been disposed of," Paul said. "Isn't
that a crime?"

"Not that I know of Any law-breaking would be in the obstruction of
justice.  That's a misdemeanor.  But what obstruction has there been?
There's no body, and no crime has been committed.  My poor granddaughter
was apparently the victim of an 'dent as much as anything else-and in an
agitated, almost acci   I crazy state of mind.  If there was any proof
of how upset she was before Louise arrived, it might help."

Mrs.  Orion rose suddenly to her feet.  "Wait!  I have something that
I've kept." She glanced uneasily at her son.  "Susan was writing a
letter earlier that evening.  I found it afterward and I kept it.  It
was addressed to Mrs.  Trench-to Anne-but when I read it, I decided not
to show it to anyone.  There was no need, since Susan was gone.  She
wrote about how depressed she had been over her life, how unhappy."

Mrs.  Orion went off to her room and returned with the letter.  Anne
took it and read it through with tears in her eyes.

"There's information in there that I didn't want anybody to see," Mrs.
Orion added miserably.  "She writes about how she .  ' is really sure
she loves you, Corey, and that she wants to marry you."

I didn't want you to see what she'd written.  I'm sorry now, but-"

"It's okay, Ma," Corey said, patting her arm.  "You did what you thought
was best."

Anne handed the letter to the captain and he read it through twice. When
he was finished he said, "Yes, Susan was clearly in a frantic state when
she wrote this.  After Brenda told her about Louise, she just about lost
control." He paused to contain his own grief, and then continued, "I
have a good friend who is a judge, and I'm going to talk this whole
thing over with him-as a hypothetical case.  I think he'll agree that
nothing further needs to be done."

Ryce looked enormously relieved.  "Just the same, are we to sweep
everything under the rug as though nothing has happened?"

Anne smiled sadly at her son.  "I don't think it will be like that.
We'll all carry memories with us, and a good deal of guilt for the rest
of our lives."

The captain reached for her hand.  "At least we can grieve now as we
couldn't before."

Paul had tightened his arm around me.  "Guilt doesn't help a lot.  It's
too late for that.  I'm on the outside and there's nothing I can add
except from my own life.  Maybe all that counts now is what we do in the
present."

Anne smiled at him.  Then she looked at her son.  "Take your WIFE HOME
ROYCE.  WE'LL BE IN TOUCH

Louise." Simple words, but they held open a door.

There was a dispersal after that.  Anne helped the captain back to his
room, and Corey went off to find Brenda.  Ryce and Louise walked to the
stairs together, and I could see that she leaned on his arm heavily.  Of
them all, I think Mrs.  Orion lie looked the most re ved-as though the
guilt of silence that she had carried for so long had finally begun to
slip away.

Only Paul and I were left on the dock, and I looked out over the sound
and found myself much too full of emotion for words.  A pair of brown
pelicans flew past-impossible birds, but graceful in flight.  I thought
absently of that turtle whose nest was still being protected.  In a way
I regretted the fact that I wouldn't be here to see the drama of the
Turtle Watch when the baby turtles made their way to the ocean.  But I
wouldn't be here I didn't want to be here.

"Can we go home tomorrow?" I asked.

"That's what I've been waiting to hear you say."

"Someday I'D come back to visit the captain.  I have a feeling that he's
going to keep on confounding his doctors.  Besides, I don't want to lose
track of Anne Trench."

"We'll come back together," Paul said.

Together.  One of the most satisfying words in the English language. And
this time we would make the changes that would make it work.  His arms
and the way he kissed me told me that.

Perhaps you would like to know the titles of the two books Anne brought
to the captain.

I believe in them as much as she did.

MIRACLES CAN HAPPEN

by C.  Norman Sheely

REMARKABLE RECOVERY

by Caryle Hirshberg and Mare Ian Barash