Read Online Ghost Island by Bonnie Hearn Hill - Free Book Online Page A

fourth mailbox gave me what I needed. “Fleming, N & P.”
    I looked up at a small home with horseshoe-shaped adobe tiles lining the roof. Rain streamed from them over a rectangular window and its wrought-iron balcony.
    “Is this it?” Grace peered at me from under my umbrella.
    “I think so,” I said in a voice braver than I felt.
    A small curved entry offered safety from the weather. We scrambled to it and stood one doorbell away from the couple I was seeking.
    “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Grace said. “It’s still pretty early in the morning. So do we just ring the bell or what?”
    To my right was a window with its shade partially open. I squinted and stared inside, right into Aaron’s face.
    “What’s wrong?” Grace grabbed my arm.
    “Look.” I peeked in again to be sure I’d really seen what I thought I had.
    Aaron sat on a chair beside Norm, who was facing him on a floral slip-covered sofa. Behind them, in the kitchen, Peggy stood talking into an old-fashioned wall phone.
    Aaron wore a black sweater that made his hair look like streaks of bronze. I watched as he lifted a large white coffee cup to his lips, put it down on the wood table beside his chair, and said something I couldn’t hear.
    Grace pressed her face against the glass. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
    “Aaron,” I said, and moved closer to her. “The guy with the hair. Come on, he’s the only person in the room under eighty.”
    “I can’t see anything. The windows are fogged up. Can’t we just go inside?”
    “Sure.” I was frustrated that she couldn’t see what I had, but she was right. All I could make out now was a smoky haze. “Let’s just knock,” I said, and rapped on the door so hard my knuckles burned.
    It swung open, and we were face-to-face with Peggy. Her white hair was out of the bun and scattered around her face.
    “Well, good morning,” she said. “Please come inside. I just heard from Daniel, our friend who drives the shore boat. The storm is supposed to get worse.”
    “Thanks.” I suddenly felt guilty. “I hope we aren’t interrupting you.”
    “Not at all. We were just having some cocoa and apple muffins. I’m concerned about the storm, though. Come in, please. Who’s your pretty friend? I recognize her from the theater.”
    “This is Grace,” I said, and we stepped inside.
    The house smelled of chocolate, cinnamon, and the pinecones in a copper planter by the fireplace.
    Peggy put out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Grace. I don’t know what happened to Norm. He must have gone out back to cover the vegetables in the garden. This is the nastiest storm I can remember for many years.”
    She led us inside then stopped to straighten a droopy plant in an Asian print jar of black and red.
    “Lucky bamboo.” She tugged at its yellow leaves as if the gesture could make a difference. “What can I get for you girls to drink? Some cocoa? A cup of tea?”
    “Nothing, thanks,” I said. “We’re fine.”
    “Do have some cocoa. I made it from scratch as soon as I got up. Figured I had better do it before the power went.”
    “Sounds great.” Grace said, and Peggy handed her a mug with a colorful map of Avalon printed on it.
    I looked down beside the table where I had seen Aaron place his cup moments before. It was still there. Still warm.
    “What are you doing?” Peggy asked.
    “This cup,” I said.
    “It’s Aaron’s.”
    “Where is he?”
    She shrugged and looked confused. “He probably went out with Norm.”
    “Would it be all right if we joined them?” I asked.
    “Oh, no. You stay here.” Color flooded her pale cheeks. “I don’t want you girls out there in this weather.”
    I didn’t listen and walked past her, through the bungalow of a house, to the back door. The porch light was still on and probably had been all night. Its dazzling white brilliance il
lu
minated the drenched backyard.
    “I don’t get it. He was just here.” I had seen him only