Blood in the Marsh Read online

  “Have you ever seen it?”

  “Once when I was about twelve.” Lyra walked around the old stones. “Chelsey and I and some other girls were spending the night at Chelsey’s and snuck out of the house. We had a flashlight but the battery died before we got here. We were all pretty jumpy anyway, but when we got close enough to see the church we all thought we saw a faint light coming from the cemetery. Chelsey screamed and started running away and everyone else followed. I always wondered if I would see it again if I came back, but I never did.”

  “You never saw it or you never came back?”

  “I never came back.”

  “Why?”

  Lyra looked down with a ghost of a smile on her face. “I guess I liked believing that there really was a light. That somehow the love he had for his wife had survived even death. It seemed like something rare and beautiful, a kind of magic to hold onto in a world where there’s so much unhappiness. It was like a promise that there are things that endure—things more important than money or fame.”

  After a moment Lyra realized Nick had stopped walking and turned to look at him. Their eyes met and for a moment neither of them moved or spoke. She was the first to look away. Every time she looked at Nick, she was seized by a swirl of conflicting emotions. She was very attracted to him, but part of her was apprehensive. Fortunately, they were in a place that she could set aside her own emotions and concentrate on other things.

  “So many people have passed their lives here,” she said in a low, soft voice. “Living, loving, fighting, dying. Whole generations of people who had dreams and hopes, all gone now except for tiny passages in history books.”

  “You sound like you knew them somehow.” He walked over and took her hand, starting back toward the Jeep.

  “I guess I get a little caught up in it. I just can’t help thinking that setting aside the differences in society and time in general, those people were just like us. They had the same needs, the same hopes for their children, the same desires to be loved and be happy. All the things we feel, they felt. It’s a shame that history neglected to record that.”

  He opened the door for her and she got in. For a moment, he looked at her intently. “You’re an unusual person, Lyra with a ‘y’. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

  She blushed and looked down for a moment. “And I’m positive I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  Nick smiled and walked around to get in the Jeep. “What’s next?”

  “How about telling me something about Nicodemus Zampella, the extraordinary magician?”

  Nick laughed and started the Jeep. “How about we go grab some food and go down to the beach? I haven’t had a chance to spend much time there but I love to watch the tide come in and hear the waves pound against the shore. Want to have a picnic?”

  “Yes, I’d love to.”

  They drove to the village and bought sandwiches and a bottle of wine. Leaving the Jeep parked in the shopping area, they wandered to the park that bordered the old lighthouse and sat down on the grass. The tide was just starting to come in, narrowing the beach as the waves pushed their way closer into the battery of large stones piled against the shoreline.

  Nick poured them each a plastic cup of wine and they watched the water in silence for a few minutes.

  “Where’re you from, Nick?”

  He looked over at her and put his cup down, leaning back on one elbow. “I grew up in New York. My parents were killed when I was young and my older brother, Bert and his wife, Orela, took me in.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Is Bert your only family?”

  “Yeah. He’s the senior partner of a large law firm in New York, The Austin Group. His wife, Orela, teaches anthropology at Columbia.”

  “How old were you when your parents died?”

  “Almost eight.”

  “Then you remember them.”

  “Yeah. They were great. My father was a real sportsman and my mother was a real sport. She tagged along with him everywhere he went, and took pictures.”

  “Sounds like she was a good sport.”

  “She was. But I don’t think it was an effort for her. I think she would’ve been happy doing anything, as long as they were together. They were so crazy about one another. I can still remember how they looked at one another, like there was no one else in the world but them.”

  “They sound like exceptional people. Not many people ever know that kind of love. If you’re lucky enough to find it I imagine it’d be worse than death to have to live without it.”

  “I guess, I wouldn’t really know. I’ve sure never found anything like that.”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  “Once.” He unwrapped a sandwich and took a bite. “At least I thought I was.”

  “What happened?”

  “I made the mistake of marrying her.” He laughed scornfully.

  Lyra paused and looked down at her sandwich. “You’re married?”

  “Not anymore. We got married right after I got out of basic training.”

  “You were in the service?”

  “Yeah. Against my brother’s protests. He had hopes I’d go to law school and join him in his practice. Anyway, Renee and I met right before I enlisted. We were only married for two years.”

  “What happened? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “She found someone else.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He poured more wine. “It was for the best. If we’d stayed together we’d have ended up miserable.”

  “How long were you in the service?”

  “Got out two years ago.”

  “And that’s when you started doing magic?”

  “No, I’ve been doing that since I was a little boy. My mom was a nut for magic. She’d take me to every show she found out about, wherever we were. Got hooked when I was five and been playing with it ever since. When I got out of the service I worked for a while and one day I realized I didn’t want to do what I was doing so I quit and started getting together my act.”

  “Well, I think you’re very good. And I’m sure one day you’ll be a world renowned magician with people falling all over themselves to get in to see you perform.”

  “That’s a nice dream.” He laughed. “Probably not very realistic, but sounds nice.”

  “I really don’t see why you’d come here, though. St. Simon’s isn’t exactly the magic capital of the world.”

  Nick finished his sandwich and leaned back. “I was in New York and heard about this old guy— a really great magician—Abubakar, the Black Arab. He died and since he didn’t have any heirs, his estate is going to be auctioned off. I thought maybe there would be some of his tricks and illusions in his stuff, so I called an old friend who had moved here a couple of years ago and asked him if he could help me line up some work and moved down.”

  “You came here just so you could go to the auction?”

  “Yeah, but it was put off for some reason. Some legal stuff. It should be cleared up pretty soon.”

  “Yes, it should be.”

  Nick gave her a puzzled look. She considered her words before speaking.

  “His house isn’t far from ours. He was a really a nice man. I miss him. “

  “You knew him personally?”

  She smiled and nodded. “But not as Abubakar, the Black Arab, just as a nice man who always had the time to listen. He was wise, you know. Whenever I would be fighting with Lexi, I could talk to him and he’d make me realize that all fighting did was make us both unhappy. He made me see things from a new perspective, like stepping outside yourself and looking at things objectively. He also made me realize that both Lexi and I couldn’t be children. Someone had to be the adult in the relationship and unfortunately it wasn’t her.”

  She looked out over the water. “He made me understand a lot of things and he gave me a sense of self-worth no one else ever did. Lucius convinced me to follow my own path and not let anyone else l
ead me down one I didn’t want to travel. He helped me learn to stand on my own two feet and make my own decisions. If I’d had a dad, I’d have liked it to have been him.”

  “Did you go to the funeral?”

  “No, I was in the middle of final exams when I heard he had died. It was such a shock. Lucius always seemed so strong and…ageless. I guess I thought he’d be around forever. There wasn’t a funeral. His will made sure of that. I flew down as soon as I heard, but everything had already been taken care of by his lawyer. I went to his house, said goodbye to him in private then went back for the exams.”

  Nick looked at her curiously. “And how did you go about saying goodbye?”

  She blushed slightly and looked back at the water. “When I was young he’d fix lemonade and these huge sugar cookies and we’d sit under the trees in his yard to enjoy the treats. So, I fixed a pitcher of lemonade, sat under the trees in his yard, and told him everything that had happened in my life since the last time we talked. I told him how much I loved him and how much I was going to miss him and then I drank a glass of lemonade and left one for him under the tree.”

  “That sounds like a beautiful way to say goodbye.”

  When Lyra looked at him, tears glistened in her eyes. “He was my best friend.”

  Nick put his hand over hers and squeezed it lightly. “Friends are a rare and precious commodity. You’re lucky to have had such a good one.”

  She nodded and smiled. “You would’ve liked him. He wasn’t like the rest of the people who live in the neighborhood. He didn’t put on airs and he was honest and good. If you like I’ll let you in the house and you can look through his magic props.”

  “You’ll let me in his house? Now I’m confused. I thought everything was going to be auctioned off and they were just waiting for some legal stuff to be settled.”

  “Well, at first everyone assumed that since he didn’t have a family that’s what would happen. But his will changed things.”

  “I get it. The executor of the estate gets to decide what to do with his things. But how can you get in the house? Do you know the executor?”

  “Actually, I’m the heir to his estate. His attorney suggested I auction everything off and sell the house but I just couldn’t. Lucius wouldn’t want strangers to have his things.”

  “You know, Lyra with a ‘y’, I feel kind of like a man who just found his own personal muse.”

  “I’m far from a muse.” She smiled and looked out over the water for a long time.

  “What’re you thinking about?”

  “About legends. There’s one I always think of when I sit and watch the tide come in.”

  “Tell me.”

  Her voice was soft and her face assumed a faraway look as she talked. “It’s a story about Mary the Wanderer. Mary was a very beautiful young woman who was in love with a handsome man. They planned to be married and Mary thought she was the luckiest woman alive. Then her fiancé’s boat capsized off this beach. He died and Mary was overcome with grief. She couldn’t live without him so she killed herself. Not long after her suicide, the people of the island began to report seeing a slender luminous shape carrying a lantern. It walked the beaches and rode the waves, wandering through the oaks, searching for her beloved. Even today, people say you can see her searching when the moon is bright. Some say you can even hear her call to him.”

  “A sad legend. You seem to know all about this island. Legends and myths must have a strong interest for you.”

  She shrugged. “I guess you could say that.”

  “I know you grew up here and you were friends with Abubakar and you went to college. Where did you go and what did you study?”

  “Duke University. I had two majors, parapsychology, and history with an emphasis in religions. I just completed the master’s program and I’m entering the doctorate program this fall.”

  Nick’s thoughts turned to Abubakar. He had been surprised to hear the announcement of Abubakar’s death. If it had not been for that small article, he would still be searching for the man. Lucius had managed to hide himself well. Knowing that Lyra was Lucius’ heir was proof that she was the one he had been looking for. He was getting close to obtaining his goal.

  His attention snapped back to the present. “I’m impressed,” he said then added teasingly. “And here I thought you were just another beautiful, spoiled, rich girl.”

  “No you didn’t.” She faced him. “Nick, we both know I’m not beautiful or charming and witty. I know who I am and I know I’m not the kind of woman men find appealing. I know I have a good mind but I also know I’m dull.

  “And while I’m being perfectly honest, I have to say that I have no idea why someone like you would even ask me out in the first place. Chelsey was falling all over herself to impress you, so I know you could have gone out with her or any woman you wanted to.”

  Nick’s eyes flashed. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “If we’re going to be honest then I think it’s my turn. I realized real fast that you don’t have a very high opinion of yourself, and after meeting your mother, I guess I can understand that. It’s hard to grow up in someone else’s shadow. But you’re not the ugly duckling you think you are. You’re not dull or uninteresting. You’re just not the shallow, superficial person most women your age—hell, most people are. You see things beneath the surface appearance and you feel things deeply. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you special. And just to set the record straight, I asked you out because I wanted to get to know you.”

  She blushed and looked down and Nick bent over to look into her eyes. “Are you going to ask me to take you home now and never darken your doorstep again?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He smiled and released her. “Then how about going with me somewhere? There’s something I think you should see.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

  “You’ll see,” he started gathering up their trash. “Come on.”

  That Same Evening—Brunswick, Georgia

  Detective Michael Santera sat at his desk looking out the window at the street below. It was late Saturday afternoon. He and one other detective were the only ones on duty in their department. Michael wondered what kind of weekend it would turn out to be, but pushed the thought aside. One thing he had learned early in the game was that any good cop knows there are only two things you can count on. One is that something will always happen, and the other is that it can always be worse.

  He watched the shadows grow deeper as the sun sank below the horizon. The sky was clear and cloudless. The calm before the storm. That phase brought other thoughts to mind. Thoughts about his old friend Nick suddenly showing up.

  He hadn’t heard anything from Nick in a long time. There were times he had found himself wondering where Nick was, if he was even still alive. Other times he was glad he hadn’t heard from Nick. It tended to bring back too many bad memories.

  Out of the blue, Nick had called and said he wanted to visit. He had shown up a few weeks ago. Michael was surprised to see him and even more surprised when Nick said he had decided to stick around for a while.

  Since Nick was new in town, Michael had invited him to live with him. He had a nice little house in Brunswick and there was plenty of room. Nick accepted. He found work at a photography studio during the day and was performing his magic act at night. Both seemed like odd lines of work for Nick, considering his background, but then Nick wasn’t a man who was easy to predict or figure out.

  Michael was still not sure that he was entirely comfortable with Nick being there. He and Nick went back a long way but Nick was the sort of man who always seemed to have secrets, and secrets made Michael uncomfortable.

  But Nick was also the kind of man who liked to have fun and Michael had had more of a social life during the few weeks Nick had been around than he had the entire time he had been in Brunswick.

  “Hey, Mike!” the desk sergeant interrupted his thoughts. “There’s an old f
ellow on the phone. Been calling for the last three days, bitching about someone stealing one of his prize calves. He’s driving us nuts, man. You want to talk to him or should I send a uniform over there?”

  “What’s his name?”

  The sergeant looked down at the clipboard in his hand. “Jim Black.”

  Michael snorted a short laugh and smiled. “No, I’ll take it. I know that old man. He lives just up the road from my uncle.”

  Taking the call, Michael told Mr. Black he would stop by on his way home. He wished the desk sergeant a nice weekend and walked outside. With the setting of the sun, a nice breeze had picked up, blowing in from the ocean, carrying with it the smell of salt and marshy soil.

  Michael rolled the windows down in his car as he made the drive to Mr. Black’s house. It had been a long time since the days when he had played in the woods that separated his uncle’s land from the Black’s. So long ago, it seemed like a lifetime.

  He stopped in the driveway, walked up on the porch and knocked on the screen door. It felt strange to be standing there. As he waited for a reply to his knock, he wondered if the old man would recognize him.

  “It’s about time you got here!” an old, gravelly voice broke the silence.

  Michael jerked around to see a dried, weathered face and frail, old figure standing at the corner of the house. The brown eyes were bright, staring at him irritably.

  “Mr. Black?”

  “What’cha doin’ standing up there on my front porch for? The hooligans busted up my barn not my house. I don’t keep no cows in the house!”

  Michael smiled and shook his head. Mr. Black was still the same snappy old man he remembered from his childhood. He stepped down from the porch, wondering if the old man remembered the last time they had seen one another.