Sandrift: A Lin Hanna Mystery (10 page)

“ It was Chris
Dawkins, my department chair at Northern Arizona,” Neal replied as he settled
into one of the comfortable rocking chairs.

Lin placed her
cup on the table and took one of the buttery croissants as she sat down, “What
was he doing?
 
Working on a
holiday?”

“Not really,”
Neal replied, “he was calling from home to wish me a happy Thanksgiving,
actually, but he also reminded me that I have an important decision to make,
and I have to make it soon.”

“I guess that
falls into the category of ‘intentions’ you mentioned earlier,” Lin
replied.
 
She knew that Neal had a
decision to make about returning to the university after his leave or taking
retirement.

“ Yes, it
does,” Neal was relaxed but serious, “
Chris
reminded
me that the spring term begins on January fifteenth for students and faculty
must report by the eighth.
 
Actually, I have to let him know what I plan to do before
Christmas.
 
He gave me a deadline.
 
I know he’ll have to reassign the
classes I’m scheduled for and maybe my grad students also if I decide to retire
fully.
 
Right now they’re working
with other members of their respective committees, but if I leave, they’ll need
new chairs.”

“Then you have
some thinking to do, unless you’ve already made a decision,” Lin responded.

“ And I haven’t
decided, as yet,” Neal seemed as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.
 
Instead he reached for Lin’s hand
placing his own on top of hers.
 
They sat in silence watching the birds wading in the marsh and sipping
their coffee.

Finally, Lin
spoke, “Whatever you decide, Neal.
 
You can expect my full support.
 
I want you to be happy with your choice.”

He brought her
hand up to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. “ I appreciate that,” he
replied, “but I realize that my decision may impact you also, at least I hope
it matters to you.”

“I do care,”
Lin tried to reassure him, “but that means your own happiness is the most
important factor you need to consider.
 
You’ll still be an important part of my life, whatever you decide to
do.”

Neal looked as
if he wanted to pursue the conversation further but Lin had other ideas.
 
Somehow she didn’t feel ready for a
serious conversation regarding ‘intentions’.
 
She knew that they couldn’t postpone
this kind of talk forever.
 
At some
point they would have to decide on the future course of their relationship
because it would impact future directions for them both; but for now, she
simply wanted a bit more time to just enjoy Neal’s company, the peace of this
season, and the beauty of this place.

“I promise, we’ll
have that talk—and soon,” Lin smiled. “Meanwhile, you can sort out your
own thoughts about returning to the university, and I’ll focus on our having a
good time here.”

Neal smiled and
nodded his assent, “That’s fine by me, but I’ll have to let Chris know
something within the next two weeks.
 
I’ll give you fair notice when we have to have that conversation.”

“Agreed,” Lin
responded as she rose to return their cups and the remains of their snack to
the small kitchenette in the office.
 
“Meanwhile, I think I’ll take my book downstairs to the porch and read
until time to go to Eloise’s.”

“Good idea,” Neal
replied, “and I’ll put the finishing touches on my article before I shower and
dress for dinner.”

Lin was glad to
escape to the warmth of the glassed-in porch.
 
The sun was beaming in and she found she
didn’t need to turn on the gas fireplace.
 
She settled herself on the sofa and opened the new mystery she had just
started the evening before.
  
She couldn’t completely put her thoughts about Neal and his decision out
of her mind try though she might.
 
She realized that their relationship was growing steadily closer and
more serious.
 
Right now she was
simply enjoying the present, but she knew that the future couldn’t be
ignored.
 
She was grateful that Neal
seemed willing to wait, at least for a short while, before they had to talk
about “intentions” –hers as well as his.

She opened her
book and began reading.
 
It was a
new offering from one of her favorite authors, and she was soon lost in the
story.
 
Sparky decided to join her,
coming onto the porch from the open kitchen door.
 
He curled up beside the sofa and soon
she heard him snoring softly as he napped.
 
It wasn’t long before Lin felt her own eyelids drooping.

***

She wasn’t sure
how long she slept, but she awoke with a start to see Neal leaning over her
with a playful grin on his face.
 
“Reading I see,” he teased, “doesn’t look to me as if you’ve made much
progress with that book.
 
It’s
almost four, we’re due next door in less than fifteen minutes.”

Lin hopped up,
“I’m already dressed, just give me a minute to freshen up and comb my
hair.
 
How about getting that bottle
of Pinot Grigio we’re planning to take out of the frig so we won’t forget
it.”
 
She scrambled up the stairs to
get ready.

They appeared
at Eloise’s door promptly at four and rang the bell.
 
A short, gray-haired fellow with a
smudged white apron tied around his waist and a cheerful smile on his face
greeted them. “You must be Lin and this, I presume, is Dr. Smith.”

“Call me Neal,
please, and you must be Dr. Miller.”

“I’m Tom, I’ve
been retired a long time and gave up Dr. Miller when I left East Carolina,
please come in.
 
Eloise will be down
shortly, and I’m putting some finishing touches on dinner.”
 
He directed Lin and Neal to a beautiful
enclosed porch that stretched across the entire width of the house.
 
A table had been set with wine and trays
of sumptuous appetizers.
 
As soon as
Eloise arrived to join them, Tom went back to the kitchen, refusing their
offers of assistance.

“He fancies
himself a true chef on occasions such as these,” Eloise said, “let’s leave him
to it.
 
Besides, I know everything
is almost ready.
 
Let’s open this
lovely wine you brought and enjoy ourselves.”

It wasn’t long
before Tom joined them.
 
“Everything’s
all set for dinner,” he reported, pouring a generous glass of wine. “ It’s all
set up to stay warm until we’re ready”

“I understand
you’re quite an expert on the history of these islands. I find them fascinating
and would love to learn more,” Neal was enthusiastic.

“Then you’ve
come to the right place,” Eloise laughed. “Tom likes nothing better than to
talk about ‘his’ Outer Banks.
 
He
grew up here, you know, and
has
written several books
about the area. Don’t get him started or we’ll never eat dinner!”

“We’re both
interested,” Lin added.

“Maybe, later,”
Tom offered, “ let’s eat first—well, I could share a few stories over
dinner as well…”
 

Eloise quickly
intervened and hustled them all toward the sumptuous buffet spread on the
kitchen island.
 
Tom had outdone
himself, it seemed.
 
Talking was not
forgotten, merely postponed while they piled their plates high with turkey,
stuffing, and all the trimmings.

***

Tom and Neal
really seemed to hit it off.
 
Neal’s
background in archeology gave them similar interests.
 
They were already making plans to visit
some sites together before it was time for dessert.
 
Tom was excited to learn that Neal was
going to meet the latest archeological team at Fort Raleigh the next day.

“There’s a
whole story there that has never been written,” Tom mused with a distant gleam
in his eye. “The Lost Colony rarely merits more than a paragraph in the history
texts but someday, someday. I still believe we’re going to learn more about
what happened to those people.
 
I’m
so glad that it’s finally attracting some attention from the scholars.”

Tom’s major
interest was shipwrecks, however; he’d written two books and several major
articles about the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.”
 
His work was based both on history and
on underwater archeology.
 
Many
offshore wrecks attracted divers seeking to learn more about these vessels and the
cargoes they carried.

The discussion
of shipwrecks reminded Lin of the story the Sheriff had told them concerning
Liz Frazier.
 
She claimed to have
found valuable jewelry at some sort of wreck site, and that had, apparently,
led to her untimely death.
 
Lin was
about to ask Tom about such finds when Eloise spoke up suggesting that they
take their discussion, along with coffee and dessert, to the porch.

While Eloise
poured coffee, Lin sliced the pumpkin pie and took it to the enclosed
porch.
 
It was cooler now so Tom
turned on the gas fireplace that was built into the exterior wall on the end.

“Best thing I
ever did to this house,” Eloise smiled, “ enclosing this porch with glass and
adding that fireplace.
 
I
practically live out here year round now.”

“We’re enjoying
the enclosed porch area at Kate’s also,” Lin responded, adding that they
planned to let her grandchildren ‘camp out’ there when they came to visit.

“That will be
perfect.
 
They’ll love it,” Eloise
responded. “Sometimes I wish I’d left a screened area like Kate did, but then I’m
rarely bothered by insects when I use the patio—only when there’s a land
breeze.”

The four of
them settled in to enjoy their pie.
 
Lin turned to Tom, “Now that you and Neal are occupied with eating,
maybe I can get a question in,” she joked.

Lin related
what she knew about the murder of Liz Frazier and the story that she’d told
about finding jewelry in the sand near an old wreck.
 
She chose not to talk about finding
Dorrie’s remains and how she’d come to actually learn the story.
 
That seemed a bit gruesome for such a
pleasant evening.

Tom was
thoughtful, “ I think I recall reading about that death.
 
That was a long time ago. I read in
Sunday’s paper that the body of the prime suspect in that case was found.
 
Sad story all around.”

Lin was, once
again, grateful that her name hadn’t been mentioned in the news article.
 
She caught Eloise’s eye, grateful that
she seemed to realize Lin wanted to preserve her privacy.
 
It was apparent that she hadn’t
mentioned Lin’s involvement to Tom earlier and she remained silent now.

Tom continued,
“We have a lot of local folks and tourists who engage in so-called ‘treasure
hunting’ using metal detectors along the beach and around those ship skeletons
that are sometimes revealed around here after storms.
 
The really serious professional treasure
guys use boats equipped with lots of high tech stuff and divers to explore
sunken vessels off shore.
 
There’re
still a lot of tales about Spanish galleons that sank while hauling gold from
South America back to Europe.”

“ Most of the
amateurs generally don’t find anything worth very much, sometimes items lost in
the sand, occasionally some silverware from a yacht…but it is possible.
 
These islands are always shifting.
 
The sand drifts into huge dunes in
places like Jockey’s Ridge, and erodes away in other spots.” Tom reminded them
that the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse had been moved further inland several years earlier
to save it from falling into the sea.

“ Every major
storm brings some changes,” Tom continued, “new inlets are cut and others
close.
 
Hwy 12 washes out
regularly.
 
The wrecks of vessels
are sometime uncovered on shore, only to be reburied when the next big storm
arrives.
 
It’s an ever-changing
scene. Not every shipwreck involves a large vessel at sea; sometimes smaller
craft try to pass through inlets to escape a storm, only to run aground and be
battered close to shore.”

Eloise realized
that Tom could go on forever with this story.
 
Even though everyone seemed to be
enjoying his tale, it was growing late.
 
She interrupted to ask if anyone wanted more coffee.

“ I don’t need
to add more caffeine,” Lin said, “It’s getting late and I think we’d best be
going.
 
Neal has a busy day tomorrow
and I’d like to get an early start. I’ve some errands to take care of.”
 
She began to gather their cups and
plates to help Eloise clean up; Neal’s curious look when she mentioned running
errands was not lost on her.

“ Tell you
what,” Tom offered. “I keep lots of news articles in which folks refer to
wrecks, or to finding things around wrecks.
 
I might have something from the time
that lady was killed that mentions what she had told people—maybe some
description she gave—who knows, maybe nothing.
 
One thing I’m more certain of, I have
extensive records related to ships of all sizes lost in this area.
 
Something like jewelry, a personal item,
would most likely have come from a private yacht or smaller boat.
 
Anyway, I’d enjoy looking for more
information if you are interested.”