So Dead, My Love Read online

  Chapter 2

  The meeting with Bob Holder was mercifully short. Her instincts had been right. He really had no idea of the artistic process. Samantha was thankful that he spent most of the time gushing about the importance of the bank in the Bayton Isle community and how she could make a mark in that community with her painting.

  It was barely eight thirty when she got back into her car. The misty fog still blanketed the near empty parking lot, almost swallowing the few bicycles tied together at the bike stand. On Bayton Isle, bikes were the preferred mode of transportation. Owning and driving a car was almost frivolous, and some even believed, against God’s law. They gave in when the snows came. Then they were forced into their SUVs.

  Samantha had owned her VW Bug convertible since college and with the money she’d spent on keeping it running and in good condition, she wasn’t about to let local superstitions ruin the love affair between car and herself.

  As she shifted into reverse and pulled out of the Bayton Isle Bank, she suddenly realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t had time to catch a bite to eat and that coffee early this morning wasn’t going to take her very far.

  She decided to head out to Carmen’s place. Carmen owned Bayton Bikes and Repairs in the heart of Bayton. Carmen did all her own repairs as well as sales, and being the only bike shop on the island, did quite well for herself. At six miles long and roughly four miles wide, Bayton Isle was small enough to bike your way through it.

  You could always find a row of shiny new bikes bearing the latest brand names. A less appealing selection of used bikes could also be found lining the back wall. On Bayton Isle, not too many people gave up their bikes easily. Finding a decent used bike wasn’t easy work. Carmen did her best, though. She had a friend who did the re-painting and then Carmen would buff out the rust and imperfections and restore them to respectable condition. It was a good living.

  Samantha knew Carmen would be at the shop, probably brewing a good cup of coffee. And she always seemed to have something sweet to go along with it like pastries or muffins. Whatever she had, Samantha was sure it would satisfy her aggressively vocal stomach.

  Bayton Bikes and Repair was an older storefront with a good oldfashioned wooden walkway running in front of the store. Besides Bayton Bikes, Claire’s Beauty and Nails and the Island Newsstand shared the block.

  Carmen Montoya opened Bayton Bikes with the money left to her by her parents. They had both come down with terminal illnesses, each passing away within five years of the other. Carmen, the oldest of two daughters, had been the rock of Gibraltar in their time of need. It was she who saw them through the bad times. It was she who got the money. Not without complications, though. Her younger sister Maria filed for a share and lost. The will was concrete. Seeking refuge from that nightmare, Carmen fled to Bayton Isle.

  Although Samantha was considered a veritable newcomer here, having arrived one and a half years ago, Carmen Montoya was a more rooted transplant. She had opened Bayton Isle Bikes and Repair almost ten years before and struck a gold mine.

  The natives of Bayton Isle loved their bicycles, but they didn’t necessarily love Carmen. Her alternative lifestyle was often the object of rude comments and whispered gossip. Never one to cower in a corner, Carmen was a real socialite and the current head of the Bayton Isle Business Guild. The Guild was Carmen’s baby, and whomever she didn’t know on Bayton Isle hadn’t moved there yet. With her positive attitude and infectious charm, whether they liked her lifestyle or not, most everyone on Bayton Isle had pleasant dealings with Carmen.

  Samantha parked in front, noticing that Carmen had added a fresh coat of paint to her store. It gleamed fresh and new apart from the other two. Three of the newest high tech mountain bikes had been rigged in the front window. Carmen liked to promote new bikes. They generated a lot more cash flow and required less TLC.

  As usual, even though opening time was still at least half an hour away, the door was open and Samantha walked in, the door chimes bringing Carmen from her workshop behind the floor room.

  Carmen’s smile was as bright as the morning sun when she saw Samantha. Tall and muscular, with dark fluffy hair just below her jaw line, a rich olive skin color and warm smile, Samantha never could quite figure out why Carmen was still single.

  “Hey, Sam. How come I’ve been blessed with your presence today?” She hugged Samantha tightly and looked straight into her eyes. “And, might I add, looking beautiful as usual.”

  Samantha loved how Carmen made her feel. She was always such a positive presence.

  “Actually, Carmen, I’m here to use you again,” Samantha joked and smiled, looking towards the small private area where Carmen kept all the goodies for her customers. It was Carmen’s customer appreciation room. “I had an early morning appointment with Bob Holder down at the bank and didn’t have time to catch breakfast. Got anything you can spare for a hungry friend?”

  Carmen laughed and took her arm, gently pulling. “Come on. I’ve got all kinds of goodies. I know you like muffins. There some blueberry and-” She stopped just as they reached the small waiting room, “I have simply the best coffee this side of the Maine coastline.”

  Samantha hated it when Carmen hit all her weak points. Coffee was one of them. With a cup of coffee each, Carmen sat at the small table and watched Samantha across from her almost inhale a blueberry muffin.

  “Yeah, I know him.” Carmen recalled Bob Holder. “He’s a nice guy, actually. Reclusive socially, but he’s been pretty generous with financial input for the community. Personally, I think he’s a closet case. He bought himself a fairly expensive Peugeot about two months ago. Single, I think. Did he like your proposal?”

  Samantha had just stuffed the last piece of muffin into her mouth. “Mmmm, these muffins are so good.” She wiped at the sides of her lips with her hand. “Carmen, you should see this guy’s office! He’s a Disney freak. He must have every conceivable Disney collectible displayed in his place.” The image was hard to forget. “He hardly looked at my sketch. I don’t think he knew what the hell he wanted or maybe he didn’t care. One of those executive types, you know.”

  Carmen got up, coffeepot in hand and proceeded to brew up another round. “It’s opening time, Sam. I have to replace all the coffee you drank up.”

  Samantha hadn’t really intended to stay long. She got up and dusted off stray crumbs from her shirt. “Actually, I’ve got to get back home and start work on that painting. Got any plans for the weekend?”

  Carmen wiped her hands on the counter towel and reached for a brochure printed on bright green paper.

  “Now that you ask, yeah, let me show you.” She opened up the flyer to the second page and handed it to Samantha. “Edmund Furrows, a local guy, just published this book on the history of Bayton Isle. He’s going to be autographing copies of it down at Marlin’s Bookstore. I was thinking of going. Wanna come?”

  Samantha looked at the flyer for Marlin’s. It was the one of only two bookstores in town. They didn’t have to work hard at all to stay in business, but they did anyway, always adding special activities. Samantha was antsy for a night out and Carmen was the best company to do it with.

  “Yeah,” she said, handing the flyer back to Carmen, “I’d like to go. I’ll call you later in the week or you call me for the time.” Samantha smiled and turned to leave.

  “Oh wait, Sam.” Carmen walked up to her. “Listen, how about you and I take a walk on the beach tonight? Watch the sun set. You can start your painting tomorrow.”

  Carmen was witty, funny, and good-looking. How could she say no? Samantha pretended to be deep in thought, but broke into a big smile, unable to face the disappointment threatening to creep into Carmen’s face.

  “I would love to. Come down to my house. We’ll go from there.” She turned again to leave but stopped to look back at Carmen. “And you said you’d bring the wine and cheese, right?”

  ***

  “Don’t you ever miss New York? Your parents? Your friends?
” They were sitting on the West side of Bayton Isle, the vast expanse

  of undisturbed beach stretched up and down to meet the craggy cliffs beyond. The salty spray from the crashing waves stuck to Samantha’s skin, little droplets sometimes clinging to her black hair. The sand was cool as her toes played at making a pattern in front of her.

  Carmen had brought sharp cheddar cheese, crackers, a bottle of Kiona Cabernet and apple turnovers from the bake shop.

  “No, not much. My parents are quite content in New York,” Samantha said as she popped a slice of cheese into her mouth and looked at Carmen.

  “Sam, I just can’t believe you left all your friends and your New York publishers.”

  “Do you think me insensitive or selfish?” Samantha’s question was playful.

  Carmen lay back on the blanket and looked seriously at Samantha. “Hey, we all have our reasons for what we do. Sometimes, people can’t always understand.” She kept her eyes on her.

  “All I know is that this is where I have to be.” Samantha avoided Carmen’s gaze, noticing the seagulls circling for food scraps. “I didn’t have anyone I would call a close friend in New York anyway. It’s all true what they say. It’s a real rat race. I’ve only been here seven months and I’ve got more friends that I would miss than I did in New York.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Carmen sat up and opened the bottle of wine. She poured out two full glasses and handed one to Samantha. “Cheers, baby. To your continued success on Bayton Isle.”

  Samantha raised her glass and sipped, feeling the strong Cab seep into her system. The sun was sinking slowly in the horizon and the sky was a pastel of blues, orange and fiery red.

  By the time the bottle was empty, the sun had fully set. Some crackers and cheese still survived but the turnovers were history. Lying side by side, Samantha and Carmen laughed about Bayton Isle, Carmen’s stories of being a lesbian in a strict Spaniard household, life and the universe.

  “Say, Carmen, what do you know about that mansion up there on the high peak?” Samantha’s eyes tried to focus on the big Queen Anne type house she had always found so intriguing. She’d spent hours of her childhood out here on this very beach fantasizing about the mysterious place. It always seemed so dark, sitting ominously atop the highest peak on Bayton Isle.

  “Oh, that’s the Karnov Estate. It’s a creepy place. We have problems with the teens during the summer. They want to go prowling around the big haunted house.”

  Samantha’s ears perked. “Oh, it’s haunted?”

  “Nah. A strange couple lives there. An older woman and a young man. They don’t associate with anyone on the Island. Most everyone refer to them as shut-ins.”

  “Well, has anyone tried to be friendly with them? I’ve asked around and no one seems to want to talk about it.” Samantha couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be a shut-in. She couldn’t take her eyes off the lonely house on the cliff.

  “I don’t know, Sam. The woman ends up in the hospital often. Why are you so interested?”

  Samantha felt her heart beating faster. Could it be the wine? Her nightmares came rushing up to strangle her. Although she had marvelous feelings for Carmen and was pretty sure she’d become someone to trust, she wasn’t quite ready to share the terrifying images in her sleep. “No reason really, just curious.”

  Night had crept up on them and the stars sparkled brightly in the sky. Samantha inhaled and exhaled. The air was crisp, full of the smell of the Atlantic. The sound of the waves and the tide gurgling in and out was a powerful intoxicant.

  “In New York, you could never see this many stars.” Samantha stretched and yawned. “It almost looks like a million little sequins on black velvet.”

  Carmen had been looking at her, quietly listening. Without warning, she leaned over and kissed Samantha gently. Her lips were warm, salty. Samantha froze. It felt good. It felt bad. What the hell was going on? She didn’t know what to feel. This couldn’t happen. Not now. Samantha pulled back abruptly.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I...uh...didn’t mean...” Carmen stumbled her apology.

  Poor Carmen was so flabbergasted that Samantha needed to save her. “It’s okay, Carmen.” She put her hand on Carmen’s. “I’m just not ready for that. You surprised me.” She tried to hide the confusion in her face. She smiled. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Carmen. She spoke softly. “Besides, I’m not an easy woman to be with. I’m moody and unpredictable.” The painful truth was that she was still smarting from her last relationship. Janet. The name brought with it bittersweet memories. Janet betrayed her. Cheated and stole her money. Devastating affairs had hurt her deeply.

  Carmen managed a half smile. “Hey, I’m cool with that. For now. But we’ve got a special relationship going here. I’m convinced that’s why you were at Marlin’s books when I noticed you looking through the Bayton Isle commerce guide, and boldly offered my services. Well, that, and I never pass up the opportunity to engage willowy, ravenhaired beauties in conversation.”

  “Oh, so you don’t think it was just chance that we met?”

  “No. I don’t believe in chance encounters. Everything happens by choice, whether we plan it or not. We both chose to go to the bookstore that night. We both chose to talk to each other. And we both chose to be here tonight.” It was dark, but Samantha thought Carmen winked.

  Samantha put a hand on Carmen’s arm and quickly withdrew it.

  “I really hope you understand. You are special to me, it’s just that my last relationship almost devastated me.” Janet crept into her mind again. “I ran away from New York, Janet, people, cars and the therapists not just to escape, but to find the answers I couldn’t find there.”

  “You had to go to a therapist to find answers?”

  Samantha studied Carmen’s face in the creeping darkness. “Everyone in the New York publishing scene has therapists.” In her gut, she knew she’d have to open up to Carmen. Sooner than later, she feared. “I just felt like I needed a change. I need room to breathe. To explore my inner self.”

  “You think the answers are here?” Carmen’s eyes twinkled.

  “I don’t know, but I know it sure as hell isn’t in a two-hundred-anhour therapist’s chair in New York.”

  Samantha sat up and dusted some sand off her elbows. “Do you know they almost had me convinced that I was suffering from a mother complex because I sought out relationships with older women?” Samantha shivered. The water splashing at them was cold.

  “Was Janet an older woman?”

  “Yes, but nothing like my mother.” Samantha wanted the images of Janet to disappear. She looked sideways at Carmen and smiled slowly. “You’re an older woman, you know.”

  “Well, darling, this older woman doesn’t feel at all like your mother.” Carmen stared long at Samantha and put her arm around her. “C’mon, little girl, it’s too cold out here for you. You’ll catch your death for sure.”

  They both laughed till their stomachs hurt as they gathered up their belongings, the moon peeking down at the footprints they left behind on the sand.

  Chapter 3

  Going into town was not a chore Tamara relished. But the food was getting low and cleaning supplies were due for restocking. Tommy wasn’t coming back from his counselor’s sessions for another two days.

  She had hired Tommy because she couldn’t abide the trips into the Isle. She just couldn’t handle all the whispering and the stares. Besides, Tommy was the orphan boy nobody had wanted around. He and his parents had been residents of Bayton Isle before a terrible gas stove explosion killed both his parents, leaving him entirely alone. He was sent to an orphanage home on Mount Desert. It was there that Tamara sought him out. He was a solitary figure. There was no one left to inquire after him. There would be no one to miss him. He was just what she needed.

  Tommy became caretaker for the entire Karnov Estate and the land surrounding it. He also did all the errands into town. He drove well enough and saved Tamara from her abuse at t
he hands of Bayton’s finest.

  But today there would be no escape. Tamara felt weak and the wounds on her body were causing her pain. Still, as she dressed herself in flannel shirt and jeans, she couldn’t help missing the convenience of a Tommy. She wondered when Samantha would come, if she would even hear and listen. Or believe. Perhaps it was time for her to initiate contact. It was a struggle every day now to get the ritual done. How much longer could she have?

  She tied her gray hair in a ponytail, grabbed the car keys and made sure she had her list of items to get. As she closed the door behind her, she felt it again. The house shuddered. At other times, she could almost feel the walls themselves sigh, as if a burden too heavy was taking its toll.

  Tamara walked very slowly to her car. One would mistake her gait for that of a seventy year-old woman. Getting into the large Buick was at least sufferable. She relaxed as she sank into the seat, inhaling and exhaling slowly, letting the pain ease down, wondering silently when it would all end.

  ***

  Located at the corner of Marlin and Chesapeake, Marlin’s Books was an exquisite little book boutique, a shining example of what a truly exceptional independent bookseller should be. Going the extra mile for their book patrons was like second nature. Gillian and John Haskell owned Marlin’s Books. They bought out the Marlins and proceeded to enhance the already comfortable image. John bowed out of active ownership after he was offered a too-good-to-be-true opportunity running the shipping yard for Mercury Lines, one of the country’s top shipbuilding companies. He had it in his blood, as his ancestors before him. Of course, he was hardly at home to share it with Gillian. His business called him away often into the Mainland and even out to the West Coast.

  Gillian had added extra touches to the store, like book signings and discount days. On this Friday night, Gillian Haskell scheduled Edmund Furrows, author of The Myths and Facts of Bayton Isle. The book was doing brisk business in Maine and libraries were beginning to show an interest in stocking it on their shelves.