She wanted Dad to be watching out for her. Desperately. Otherwise, she had to accept the truth. He was gone for good, and she never had a chance to say goodbye.
Right now, however, she needed to find some sort of common ground. Their shared interest in the resort probably qualified. “Hey, what’s going on at the old sawmill.”
A few yards away from the mouth of the channel stood a crumbling sawmill and dock. From its stone foundation rose a three-story timber structure. The original planks had been patched and covered with vinyl siding, creating a patchwork, rectangular eyesore along the shoreline.
Christopher didn’t care because it didn’t directly impact the business. She knew he should. He might not be able to see the building now. But if the land sold to a developer, they’d probably be able to see the condos, mansions, or whatever monstrosity was erected to capitalize on the space. At the least, the dock jutting out into the lake would become crowded and noisy.
They’d been downstream from a sleeping giant. Once awakened, all sorts of trouble could erupt. The region didn’t have any specific building code restrictions. The area thrived on community spirit and a system of respect and shame that served better than any formal legalese. Could it last?
“What do you mean?”
“It looks almost abandoned. Has the old lady passed?”
“She’s in hospice. She moved out of the building six months ago. Should I send a team by? Did you spot trespassers?”
Ashley shook her head. “I’m sure it’s fine. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was more like…a feeling.”
“Like your ghost?” He narrowed his gaze.
Exactly.She didn’t pretend to be an empath or somehow attuned to the supernatural. But buildings gave off energy. And the sawmill emoted sadness. She couldn’t remember a time it had ever been operational. The industry had moved on from the old methods practiced at the Maguire Lumber mill since the nineteenth century.
If she wracked her brain, however, she remembered the cheer of the building. Colorful planters overflowed with petunias and impatiens, dotting the façade and outlining the private dock every few feet. The flowers brightened an otherwise green patch of the shoreline.
She remembered boat rides with the Prims past the tallest structure on their shore. She imagined it as a tower fit for a princess. Now, the building was shuttered and closed. The planters were empty. The whole space looks vacant. “She hasn’t appointed a caretaker? Has she considered selling the property?”
“She has too much respect for the history of the place to let it go to a developer. Of that, I’m one hundred percent certain. I’m sure she’s considered who will inherit and has a plan in place after her passing.”
“She should give it to the historical society and be done.”
“Maybe. Elise has been working that angle for years.” He shook his head. “If anyone can convince her, it’ll be Elise. She’s tenacious.” The corners of his mouth lifted.
Ashley didn’t like his smile at the mention of another woman. Nor did she much care for the melodic sound of the other’s name on his tongue. “I guess tenacious is one word for her.” She lifted her shoulder.
“You and Elise could probably be friends. If you tried…”
She let the statement hang heavy in the room. Elise was everything Ashley wasn’t. They’d been rivals in school because neither could understand the other. Ashley had no desire to suddenly become the woman’s friend, especially not if she was after her husband.
“The old legend could hurt all of us,” he said. “Some call it a curse.”
She rolled her eyes. “A Maguire in possession is prosperity for all? You think the reverse is also true? Without a Maguire, we’re doomed?”
“The community is superstitious. Old lore has a habit of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy here.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m surprised you support the legend. Isn’t there some sort of rumor about treasure tied up in the mill? I would think you’d be team no treasure on all fronts.”
“I don’t mind a Maguire treasure hunt. That would restrict the explorers to the opposite side of the lake. Specifically, the Timber Triangle.”
“That’s another thing I’d never heard before that everyone acts like it’s a part of our town’s founding.” She hated feeling so out of the loop.
“Seth’s revelation about Soupy led to a series of confessions about strange occurrences in and around the lake. The Timber Triangle was actually Elise’s contribution based on her research.”
Why did everything include Elise? “What? Like the Bermuda Triangle? Did aliens abduct a plane flying in the area?”
He grinned. “Not quite. A ship sank out there. And other reports of malfunction have appeared in various maritime records. But if you start probing, you’ll probably learn somebody had an extraterrestrial abduction. In Loon Lake, everything is possible.”
Why not her ghost?
“Maybe,” he dragged the word, “something is out of the ordinary at the lighthouse.”
