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Marc held up his hand. “I’m not saying it will come to that, but I’d like to think this Holloway fellow can be cut off at the pass. It might very well be that he’s looking for a nice tidy settlement.”
Morgan folded her arms across her chest. “That is so not happening,” she quipped. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Charlotte would have laughed. Morgan looked as if she were ready to fight someone.
“I’m hoping to be able to discredit him,” Marc said, his expression somber.
“I’m not a DNA expert either,” Hope interjected, “but I do know of something called trace genetics. I studied it when I was taking classes at Savannah State University.”
“This sounds extremely complicated,” Olivia said, biting her lip. “These type of things cost money. Who knows what will happen if he asks the court to make us pay for the cost of all these tests and exhumations.” Charlotte could see her friend was fretting about the situation. She reached out and patted Olivia’s hand.
“Olivia, take a deep breath. We’re all just speculating, which honestly isn’t good for any of us. Our imaginations could run wild. Remember the time we had ourselves convinced that a monster was living in the basement of Savannah House.” Charlotte let out a chuckle. The other girls joined in. They had only been eight years old with wild imaginations and a tendency to be overly dramatic.
Olivia giggled. “Miss Hattie sure set us straight.”
“So did my Mama,” Morgan said, referencing her mother, Pearl Lucas, who had worked as Miss Hattie’s assistant for decades. Miss Pearl, as the girls called her, had always been no-nonsense with a soft heart at her center.
“This is why we need Marc to travel to the Vineyard to investigate Holloway,” Charlotte said, praying none of the girls argued the point. Time was ticking away from them. With Fancy’s wedding rapidly approaching, the owners of Savannah House needed a quick and easy resolution to this matter. It would be a disaster for their brand if litigation ensued and the media caught wind of it.
“I say yes,” Fancy said.
“It’s a yes for me,” Olivia said with an emphatic nod of her head.
Hope flashed a thumbs up sign.
“Have a great time on the Vineyard,” Morgan said to Marc, who smiled before burying his head in his notebook. Charlotte wondered what was so important that he needed to write it down. Perhaps details of his trip to the Vineyard.
Marc looked up from his notebook. “So, I’ll plan to go in a few days. If there’s no objection I’m going to schedule the trip around my dad’s doctor visits. I hate for my mom to be dealing with the day to day stuff all by herself.”
“It won’t be a problem,” Charlotte said, locking gazes with Marc. Whenever he spoke about his father he had a certain wistful note in his voice. It tugged at Charlotte’s heart strings. She didn’t know Marc very well, but she could tell he loved his father very much. He smiled at her and nodded his head.
As he gathered up his belongings and headed out of Savannah House, Charlotte struggled to understand the feelings coursing through her. Marc’s trip to Martha’s Vineyard might just provide some invaluable information about the man who was claiming to be Miss Hattie’s heir. It was a good thing he was going. Wasn’t it? She couldn’t explain her mixed emotions. She didn’t even want to think about it or dwell on it. Why was she feeling slightly out of sorts regarding Marc’s absence from Savannah?
“Falling in love is one of the most complicated things a person will or can ever do in this lifetime. Someone once told me it was like riding a bike. I say it’s like riding a bike blindfolded with one arm tied behind your back.”
Lucien Cabron
Chapter Four
The weather in Martha’s Vineyard was chilly for a January morning. The sky was blue with patches of pewter. Storm clouds seemed to be brewing in the distance. Thankfully there was no snow on the ground. As a lifelong southerner, Marc didn’t think he could make it through a New England winter. And from what he’d heard, Cape Cod winters were fierce. The ride over on the ferry from Hyannis had been fairly challenging due to choppy and churning waves. But he’d made it to the island in one piece. That was a blessing!
Oak Bluffs was where the ferry docked on the island. According to his research, Holloway lived in a remote area here in town off the beaten track. Marc was hoping to ferret around the island and get information on Holloway. If he happened to run across him, all the better. Perhaps he could take some pictures of Marc’s house and ascertain his financial status. From
what he’d seen so far, no one on this island appeared to be struggling.
He walked from the ferry to the Briarwood Inn where he was staying for the next few days. It was a small, nicely decorated inn with a strong New England vibe. Marc couldn’t help but compare it to Savannah House. Although the Briarwood Inn was nice, Savannah House was spectacular. Upon check-in he was given his room key, a local newspaper and a warm chocolate chip cookie.
Marc located his room and settled down with the newspaper and his gooey chocolate chip cookie. He took a bite, letting out a groan at the delicious taste of the sweet treat.
“Mmm. I need to bring some of these back home with me,” Marc said. He looked around him at his comfortable, cozy room. It was beautiful with a warm color scheme. At moments like this he wished he had a wife who could have made the trip with him. Charlotte’s stunning face came to mind. He shook his head, wondering why his thoughts had led him straight to Charlotte. The woman barely tolerated him. Granted, she had been nice as of late, but he had to wonder what she really and truly thought about him.
Once this assignment was over she probably wouldn’t have two words to say to him. That reality made him feel sad. There was something intriguing about Charlotte. He sensed great vulnerability as well as a desire within her to appear strong and in control. He couldn’t help but wonder what had made her that way.
He picked up the paper and almost choked on his chocolate chip cookie when he saw the face staring back at him. Whoa! This had to be divine intervention. Grayson Holloway’s picture was plastered on the front page of the Oak Bluff Times. According to the article, he was doing a talk and book signing today for his latest children’s book at Island Books, a local bookstore.
“Thank the Lord,” Marc said, letting out a hoot and holler. God sure did work in mysterious ways. He had traveled all this way from Georgia to an island in Massachusetts all on a hunch. And now it looked as if it might pay off. He would show up at the Island Books location at three o’clock and meet the elusive Grayson Holloway.
* * *
Charlotte opened up the door to Savannah House and warmly greeted the journalist, Trina Charles, from Savannah Life and Style magazine. With her mocha colored skin and cornrowed hairstyle, Trina was a knockout. In her initial meeting with her, Charlotte had been impressed by her positive attitude.
