But now she surprised him. She’d read the schedule and didn’t need to be roused to start her work. He couldn’t fault her punctuality. Maybe she had made some changes. She remained bullheaded but listened. He strode toward her. He couldn’t be complacent. She might not be his enemy, but she was not his friend either.
“Hello.” He called, cupping both hands around his mouth as he approached.
She straightened, stretching her back and waving. “Almost set here.”
“You’ll need to wheel the lifeguard chair into place.”
“I’m on it. Once I finish setting up, I have a break. Figured I could take initiative and lead activities. I’m happy to be helpful.”
Sure, she was thrilled to help him off the property. If she needed fire to smoke him out, she’d grab the matches in a heartbeat. He darted his gaze, checking all the fire pits remained covered. “Let’s not rush into anything.”
“You don’t think I can work with the guests?”
His mouth twitched, a smile threatening to reveal itself. “Let’s review your efforts so far. How did the movie matinee go yesterday?”
She sighed. “I burned the popcorn and popped all the balloon animals.”
He swallowed his triumph. He didn’t want her humiliated, just humbled. Working at the Inn wasn’t complicated but demanding. Customer service hours were long and seldom rewarding. After standing and smiling for hours, he fought through the pain and frustration to get up and do it all again the next day. No breaks. He never vacationed.
“Sorry if I didn’t appreciate the hands-on nature of your work.” She folded her arms over her chest and eyed him from head to toe. “My mistake. I guess I pictured it as more of a leadership position on offer, considering your grand spot at the top of the world.”
He rolled his eyes.You should. “Let’s start fresh today. I gave you plenty of time off in the schedule so you can head over to the boardwalk shops and poke around. Gauge the responses as you greet old faces. Maybe your ghost will reveal themselves.”
“Fine. After I finish the manual labor, I’ll do your dirty work. Just tell me the truth. Are you inspecting the lighthouse?”
“I’m headed there right now.”
“Good. Leave the door open. Just in case.”
In case your ghost is still there?He was almost touched by her concern. But he wouldn’t give her even the hint that he believed in her fake spirit. With a wave, he turned toward the lighthouse and headed that way, sipping his coffee.
Crossing the wooden bridge, he set his empty mug on the ground and scrubbed his hands over his face. This wasn’t his first inspection of the building following the fire. But he wanted to approach it like it was. What wasn’t he seeing? What clues had he overlooked? Touring the inside of the lighthouse, he stared up at the beacon light overhead. He wasn’t going to test the strength of the metal stairs to inspect up close. From his perspective, he didn’t see anything amiss.
He pulled out his cell and powered on the flashlight app. Shining the light in every direction, he saw no change from any other walk-through.
The walls remained sound. The renovation project wouldn’t require a complete demolition and new build. The building wasn’t perfect, but it contained historic charm in its original construction that he’d hate to lose.
Named Fred’s Folly, the inoperable lighthouse had been a popular spot from the moment it opened. Tourists loved climbing to the top for a view of the whole lake. Without any extra capital for maintenance and repairs, the lighthouse transformed into a ticking bomb ready for the detonation of wrongful death and injury lawsuits. The lighthouse had been built to lay claim to the island before the Prims could build a dock off it in the 1920s. The Hales strong-armed the town’s then-mayor into signing over the deed, and construction began before the Prims knew about the change in ownership.
While a feud hadn’t erupted—most generations working well together—bad blood simmered between the families lingered. By extension, growing up on Hale property, Christopher learned to always be wary around a Prim even though he never had a reason for his vague unease.
Xavier, Ashley’s father, had closed the lighthouse in the late nineties. Then he developed the cursed treasure legend as explanation and, in doing so, inadvertently drummed up more interest. Christopher had chased off his fair share of lookie loos. By some miracle, none of the trespassers had ever been injured and sought restitution. During the Inn’s financial lean years, a single lawsuit could have threatened the entire business.
With several decades of history behind it, Christopher could understand how the line between myth and reality blurred over the years. Longevity lent credence to even the most ridiculous tale. A big part of him worried that particular story was now haunting him.
He didn’t see shovels or crowbars. No one was looking for loot that didn’t exist. And, thankfully and more importantly, he saw no evidence of sabotage.
As he exited the lighthouse, he became aware of a disaster unfolding in slow motion. Standing alone on the tiny island, he was helpless to do anything but watch in horror and shock.
The lifeguard chair rolled down the sloping lawn from the storage shed. Picking up speed, it didn’t stop on the sand or topple over. The chair rolled into the lake, only stopping as it slipped under the water’s surface. The top of the umbrella barely visible.
The scene was like a pirate riding a sinking schooner into a Caribbean port a la Hollywood. He turned toward the shed and spotted her. Her eyes were as round as her opened mouth. With his luck, the Prims’ boat would hit the thing, and then he’d have to pay for repairs. Knowing overbearing Carl Prim, the man would steer every broken-down vessel into the hazard to fleece the Inn into paying for a new fleet.
He jogged toward her. “What happened?”
“I guess I didn’t set the brakes for the wheels.” Her tone was low. Her whole demeanor shocked into stiffness.
He shook his head. “I don’t get it. You worked here in the summers. You weren’t helpless then. You were always so capable and confident.”
