Beach House Mysteries 1-3

A Word From The Management

From Miss Marple and Fletch

Before you begin this story, there are a couple of points we would like to make...

This is fiction. The characters, businesses, settings and events are part of our friend's vivid imagination. Yes, it takes place in the great state of Florida. That part is non-fiction. But the rest? Nope, it's all from her mind. So if you think the characters, settings or events remind you of the real thing, then that is purely coincidental.

Mistakes happen, no matter how hard we try, or how many beta readers or rounds of editing happen, something always sneaks by. If you find an error, please email us at sunsandstories@gmail.com and we will make the corrections.

We hope you will enjoy the story, and when you're finished, please tell a friend about it and post a review.

On behalf of our boss,

Miss Marple and Fletch

Mist at the Beach House

Mermaids and Murder: A Paranormal Seaside Mystery

Title Page

Copyright

Copyright © 2020 by Victoria LK Williams

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

Chapter 1

Morgan Seaver looked around her, taking in the sights, and felt a great weight lifted from her shoulders. A weight she wasn't aware she carried. The sound of children's laughter faded into the distance as she became focused on the island in front of her.

Morgan always experienced a longing to be by the sea. But right now, her longing was for the island. And she didn't know why. She felt called in many ways that had nothing to do with the letter she had gotten from her aunt, beseeching her to come and help her with her library full of ancient books in need of desperate repair.

Morgan thought back to the letter and how it had arrived at the most appropriate time. She was in between jobs and getting restless, as she often did. Since she graduated from high school, Morgan had wandered the Atlantic Coast, looking for something, but not knowing what she was looking for. Her skill and talent at restoring old books had earned her a reputation, making the most exclusive libraries and private collectors call for her services. But when the letter from her aunt came, Morgan knew she needed to help. It was more than the family thing; it was a calling she'd been waiting for and hadn't known.

Excuse me, called out a childish voice, and Morgan looked up quickly to see a beach ball heading her way. Quickly ducking out of the ball's path, she laughed with the child and picked up the ball, tossing it back to him.

Thank you, Miss. The child started to run away, but then seemed to remember his manners and turned back to call out to Morgan. She waved her hand in acknowledgment.

The interaction with the child brought her focus back to the here and now, and she looked around the beach area and noticed many children around the same age as the young boy with the beach ball happily playing. Mothers were grouped together, watching their children, and picnics were laid out on the crystal white sands of the beach. It was one of those beautiful days in late April when it wasn't too hot in the Florida sun. The winter crowd had thinned out as well, with most of the tourists starting to make their way back home to the northern states, where the temperatures were finally beginning to climb. This time of year seemed to be a signal for the residents of the small coastal communities along the Florida peninsula that now was their time to take over the beaches.

The ringing of a small bell caught Morgan's attention, and she looked over towards the main road, noticing several bicyclists. A wide range of bikes made up the group of bikers, and she smiled at the tandem bike with two older people riding together. Her aunt's letter had warned her that biking, walking, and golf carts were the most common forms of transportation on the island. This suited Morgan just fine. She was anxious to get her car parked permanently and get to work.

Standing here admiring the view won't get me there any faster. She laughed to herself. With one final look at the water, Morgan shrugged her shoulders and turned to walk back to the parking area where she had left her car.

Once in the car, she took a quick swig of cold water and then pulled out her aunt's notes to follow the directions that would lead her to the family home she would now call hers. Morgan didn't really need the instructions; the way home seemed instinctive. She could visualize the house that had been in the family for generations, and she remembered her time as a child playing in the same sands as the children she'd just left. Her memories were clear, mixed with pictures in her mind of her mother and her aunt spending time with her along the beach.

Quickly glancing at the directions, she put the paper back down next to her and started towards the island. It was a one-way road over the island, and she waited patiently for a car coming across the bridge before she could take her turn to enter Pearl Island. Her car passed over the water as she made her way onto the island, and she experienced a profound sense of homecoming.

Chapter 2

With the memories guiding her, it didn't take long before her aunt's historic beach house could be seen in the distance.

The house was three stories, and in all truth, was the focal point of the island. It could be seen from almost any position on the island as if it was standing tall and strong, guarding against something.

Morgan's feeling of homecoming intensified as she got closer to the house. When she reached the driveway, she stopped. Rather than pulling up towards the house, she got out of the car and just stood looking at the beautiful home. She knew the house had been in the family for close to a century, but it didn't show the ravages of time or weather. Her Aunt Meredith kept the house in beautiful repair, and her gardens, which surrounded the home, were a horticultural delight. Tropical blooms could be seen from the roadway, and foliage of assorted greens and textures filled the planting beds. There were no structured hedges around this house. Everything had a natural flow to it, as if one with nature.

Morgan's eyes followed the path of a seagull soaring above the waves to perch itself on the balcony of the third floor of the house before her. The corners of Morgan's smile tugged into a smile as memories of playing on that third floor came flooding back. It had always been her favorite part of the house, and her Aunt Meredith had let her have free reinunlocked, to play where she wanted whenever she visited.

Well, you've arrived, Morgan told herself. Standing here staring isn't going to get you settled. Let's get a move on, girl.

Getting back into the car, Morgan pulled up to the front walkway of the house. Reaching across the front seat, she grabbed her backpack and laptop, planning to come back out for her suitcases later. Right now, she wanted to get inside and find her aunt.

Hello?

Morgan slowly opened the front door, not concerned that it was unlocked as her aunt had reminded her the doors were never locked. Silence greeted her, and she was puzzled; her aunt had promised to be here when she arrived. Making her way into the hallway, Morgan set her bags down next to the stairway as the old grandfather clock chimed the arrival of the half-hour. Surprised, she glanced at her watch and saw that it was indeed half-past two. Morgan had made good time on her drive to the southern part of the state.

She moved as if guided by an old memory and made her way down the hallway to the kitchen. The smell of fresh-baked cookies greeted her, and there was a huge bouquet of wildflowers sitting in an old mason jar in the middle of the table. But there was no Aunt Meredith.

Walking over to the large French doors that opened up onto a path leading to the beach, Morgan searched the horizon.

There you are. I should have known you'd be along the shore, she mumbled to herself as she saw the silhouette of a woman walking close to the waves breaking on the shore.

Grinning to herself with excitement, Morgan opened the door and headed down the path to meet her aunt and reconnect after years of being apart.

OH, MY GOODNESS, JUST look at you. You look just like a Seaver!

Meredith Seaver had turned and watched her niece walk towards her across the sea dunes. Her voice called out to Morgan before she even reached her aunt's side, the pride evident in her tone.

Morgan laughed outright at her aunt's words and, without thinking, raised her hand to push her jet-black hair out of her face, her jet-black hair with a streak of deep blue that she had put in on a lark, just to be different. She could put money on it that none of her relatives,present, past or present, had ever had hair like this.

Really? Even with this? she asked her aunt with a laugh.

Yes, even with that brilliant blue streak. But you know each of us Seavers have had something unique about us that makes us stand out from the rest of the crowd.

Even my mother? I rather doubt that, Aunt Meredith. Morgan shook her head in disbelief at her aunt's words. Then her disbelief turned to shock when her aunt answered her.

Yes, even your mother. Did you know she had a birthmark? It's in the shape of a seashell right underneath her hairline on the back of her neck.

Morgan looked at her aunt with interest; she'd never known about the birthmark, and somehow it made her mother seem just a little less perfect. Then she shrugged her shoulders.

Well, not to worry. This blue paint will fade shortly and I'll go back to being boring old me, she informed Meredith.

But her aunt just smiled at her, not saying a word as if she knew some secret.

Morgan made a move forward, ready to give her aunt a warm hug. But before she could take a step, her aunt turned away as if she hadn't seen the movement and swept her arms out towards the sea.

It's time you came back to the island, Morgan. The sea knows you're here, and things are now in motion.

I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean by that.

You will. Things have already been set in motion. But for now, why don't you go back to the house and make yourself at home?

Aren't you coming?

Not right this moment. There are a few things I need to do. Go on and explore the house. Pick out which room you want. There are snacks in the fridge, and if you feel up to it, the library is there for you to look over.

Morgan gave her aunt a funny look, surprised that Meredith wouldn't come up to the house with her. But her aunt simply blew her a kiss and turned and walked towards an outcropping of rocks. Morgan remembered from her youth these were an excellent place for hide-and-seek.

Okay, Aunt Meredith, I'll talk to you when you get back to the house. And thank you for welcoming me home, Morgan called out to the woman as she walked away.

Meredith raised her hand, acknowledging the words, but she didn't turn around. Morgan watched the woman walk away until she went around the rocks and was lost from sight. Then, with a shrug, she turned and made her way back towards the house, eager for the snack, and even more eager to reacquaint herself with her childhood home and to explore the vast library.

Chapter 3

Even though Morgan was eager to explore the house and settle herself into the library, she got the mundane things completed first. Grabbing a cookie off the plate on the kitchen counter as she walked through, Morgan made her way to the front door. Picking up her backpack and bag, she headed up the stairs. She skipped the second floor and went straight to the third floor, where she found the room that she had claimed in her youth.

The room had always felt magical to her, like she was a princess stuck away from reality, waiting for Prince Charming to come and rescue her. But life quickly taught Morgan that there was no Prince Charming, and that she had to rescue herself. It felt good to walk through the threshold of the room that held so many sweet memories from her childhood. She looked around the room and saw fresh flowers on the dresser and smiled to herself. It seemed Aunt Meredith had remembered this was her favorite room as well, and prepared it for her, even though she told her she would have her pick of the rooms.

Tossing her backpack on the bed, Morgan walked over to the window and looked out across the sand dunes,ocean, and watched the waves come onto the shore. It was mesmerizing, but she quickly pulled herself away from that view and walked over to a door she remembered from her youth. Throwing the door open, she walked out onto the widow's walk that many of the old houses had on the island. This walkway went across the roofline. Decades ago, brides waiting for their sailors to come home would go to the widow's walk and look out over the ocean, waiting for the ships to come in, bringing home their true loves.

Well, hello there. Are you the same bird I saw earlier? Morgan spoke to a fat seagull that sat on the railing and then laughed at herself, knowing the seagull would not answer.

Deciding now would be the perfect time to get the rest of her bags in from the car while she still had the energy, and before she got involved in any of the library books, Morgan raced down the stairs and out to her car. It only took two trips to empty the car, and most of what she brought in went to her room. There was one large bag that she left at the base of the stairs. She would need to talk to her aunt before she decided where to place the tools of her trade. Her pressing box was still in the car, its heavy frame a little too bulky to bring in and take up to the room in the hallway. She could wait on that.

Looking around the first floor, she realized Meredith had not returned yet. When her stomach rumbled in protest at lack of food, she took her aunt up on her offer of a sandwich and made her way back to the kitchen. Grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge, she picked up the plate with her lunch and made her way to the porch. The porch was a wraparound and would connect to the front of the house. Meredith had old wicker rocking chairs scattered around the porch along with a comfortable table, chairs and lounges. She'd arranged the furniture so you could look out to the ocean no matter where you sat. From here, you could watch the approach of visitors coming to call. No matter where you looked, it felt comfortable and welcoming. Morgan gave a sigh of contentment as she settled into one of the large chairs, curling her feet underneath her and biting into her sandwich. Finishing her quick meal, Morgan knew it would be easier to just settle in deeper to the chair and take a quick nap, but she resisted the temptation and made her way back into the house.

When she entered the library, it caught her breath. It was much more than she remembered. Morgan walked around the room, running her fingers reverently along the spines of the books on the shelves, and inhaling the mustiness of the old pages and their stories deeply. There was a massive desk in the center of the room, and Meredith had placed comfortable chairs in convenient corners with reading lamps positioned to give a reader perfect lighting.

Now, this is my idea of heaven. Morgan couldn't wipe the grin off her face as she studied the books.

She quickly realized there was no rhyme or reason to their placement. They placed modern paperbacks in amongst books that looked to be easily 50 to 75 years old. Fiction and nonfiction were mixed together, and when she looked a little deeper, she even found personal photo albums squeezed in amongst the published books.

Oh, Aunt Meredith, it looks like I have my work cut out for me here.

Even though her common sense told her she should categorize the books, she couldn't help but feel that the library was perfect the way it was. After all, it was a family library, not a public library, and she was sure if she followed the shelves of books, she would see history in front of her. She knew from experience that people bought books at different stages of their lives. The books within easy reach were probably the most recently purchased, and she knew the stack that stood on the desk were current publications.

She smiled as she looked at the spines, reading an assortment of genres ranging from western to romance. There was a smattering of science fiction, but predominately they were mysteries. There were also numerous books that she didn't recognize. They didn't appear to be published books, and when she pulled one of them off the shelf, she found they were personal journals.

Now this is a find. Morgan hugged the book to her chest, realizing the journals were probably records from, and about, her family. Not wanting to overstep herself, she put the book back on the shelf, deciding she would wait for her aunt to give her direction on what books needed attention. From the looks of things, there were a lot of books that needed to have work done to them. Spines were broken, jackets dusty and faded, and some covers looked like they were ready to fall off. Yes, there was plenty of work here to keep Morgan busy for years.

Walking over to a pile of books on one small end table, she picked up one sitting on top. It was a book she'd wanted to read for a long time, and without even thinking, she walked over to a comfortable chair in a corner with a window next to it where she could look out over the ocean. Opening the cover of the book, she was quickly lost in the story.

REACHING OVER HER HEAD, Morgan turned on the reading light next to her. Her movement brought her out of the book, and she looked around her, surprised at how dark the room had gotten. She'd been lost in the story for well over two hours, and with a jolt, she realized she hadn't seen or heard her aunt return. Maybe she had and decided to give Morgan the chance to relax. But either way, Morgan put the book down and went in search of her aunt. She wanted to catch up with her and thank her once again for welcoming her back home.

Aunt Meredith? Morgan stood in the grand hallway, calling out to her aunt, but there was no response. She searched the entire house, but Meredith was nowhere to be found. There was no evidence that she'd ever returned from the beach. Dusk was about to settle, and Morgan was growing concerned. Yes, her aunt knew her way around the island and was probably perfectly fine, but it seemed odd that she hadn't come back when she said she would, knowing that Morgan had just arrived.

Morgan hated to be indecisive, but she also hated waiting around. Grabbing her cell phone, she went to search for her aunt. Her aunt would probably scoff at her worries, but Morgan couldn't shake the feeling of unease that was overtaking her. Using the same door she had earlier, Morgan walked from the kitchen down over the sea dunes to the beach. The waves were calm, and there was just the slightest of breezes. She headed toward the rock outcropping where she'd last seen her aunt. As she got closer to the rocks, a mist began to develop, giving the beach an eerie feeling. She looked around her, realizing the mist was where she was standing and had not spread across the dunes. Hoping to find her aunt before the mist became a real fog, Morgan picked up her pace and quickly reached the rocks.

When she rounded the rocks, she was shocked to find a grouping of people standing clustered over something lying on the sand. The mist cleared just long enough for her to recognize that two of the people were police officers, and the third was a beautiful young woman about her own age. The woman turned and saw Morgan.

She's the one that did it. I saw her! The woman lifted her arm and pointed in Morgan's direction, and the others took a step away from each other, staring at Morgan.

Their movements allowed Morgan to see what they had been staring at, and she gasped. The mist moved, but not before Morgan saw the body of Meredith lying prone at their feet.

Chapter 4

Morgan was torn. Her immediate reaction was to rush forward, but there was something in their stance that also made her want to turn and run back to the safety of her aunt's house. There was something about the way they were staring at her that made Morgan want to seek shelter and safety.

Her first instinct won out, and she stepped forward, not wanting to believe it was her Aunt Meredith on the ground. The others watched her walk towards them, but stopped her before she got too close.

I'm positive I saw her with Meredith; she is the one that killed her! insisted the younger woman once again, pointing at Morgan.

The two officers look from the woman to Morgan, and the man took a step in Morgan's direction. As he did, he reached behind him and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, but his partner stopped him with a single word.

Wait.

Wait? Why would you wait? That's your killer—arrest her. The younger woman turned to the female cop, astonished they were not putting handcuffs on Morgan.

The other woman gave a shake of her head in caution.

Let us do our job. We'll take statements from both of you. Right now, everybody needs to just calm down. The female officer put her hands up as if to stop the aggression of the other woman.

Morgan didn't know where to turn. Her eyes were drawn to the body before darting back and forth between the people in front of her. Then the mist deepened, as if to cover Meredith from Morgan's sight. The male officer gave a shudder of his shoulders as something cold draped across them. His partner stepped forward and put her hand on Morgan's arm, steering her away from the body.

You're Meredith's niece, aren't you? It's Morgan, right? she asked as she guided Morgan away.

Morgan looked at the officer and realized she was trying to take her mind off what was going on. By now, other police officers were arriving on the scene, the area was being roped off with evidence tape, and the gurney was being brought down the dunes, led by the coroner. Morgan felt tears develop. With head bowed, she stepped away from the scene in front of her, following the guidance of the officer.

Yes, I'm Morgan Seaver. I don't understand this. I just talked to my aunt a couple of hours ago. She was supposed to come back up to the house, but time got away from me, and I didn't realize she hadn't come back. I was just coming down to look for her, and that's when I... I found you all.

The officer gave her a sharp look, as if surprised by something Morgan had said. But she seemed to decide to not ask questions, at least not the questions obviously on her mind, and instead, she introduced herself to Morgan.

It's okay, Morgan. We'll get this all sorted out. My name is Jenny Colbright. I've known your aunt for years, and my partner is Stanley Newman. He's a relative newcomer to the island, but we won't hold that against him. Jenny was trying to put Morgan at ease, adding a bit of chitchat. By now, they had walked away from the other two, and Morgan turned to look over her shoulder to find the young woman her own age staring at her intently.

And who's that? The one who is so positive I killed Meredith.

Sirena Storm. She is relatively new to the island as well, but with strong family ties. Don't let her get to you. Once we take everybody's statements, we can figure out how your aunt died.

The mist swirled around the two women, but Jenny ignored it. Morgan expected to feel the surrounding dampness, but it wasn't like any other mist she'd ever been in. It almost had a warm, comforting feeling to it, but it dissipated as Jenny and Morgan made their way back to the house.

Stanley will be along in a moment. He'll take Sirena's statement first.

She's not coming up to the house, is she? Morgan asked sharply.

No, there's no reason for her to. Besides, right now, she seems a little too aggressive towards you. I think she should keep her distance. Maybe once all this is sorted out, you too can start out again on the right foot, but for now, I think distance is a good thing to put between you.

They had reached the kitchen door, and with the familiarity of somebody who had been to Meredith's house many times, Jenny opened the door and guided Morgan into the kitchen. Not asking permission, she walked to the kitchen cupboards and pulled out two coffee mugs, keeping her back to Morgan as she got her own grief under control. Then Jenny walked over to the coffeemaker and flipped it on, like she knew it would be ready to brew. And she did; Jenny had spent many afternoons sitting in the kitchen with Meredith, catching up on the island gossip. And lately, all Meredith could talk about was the arrival of her niece. She had no fear or foreboding in her voice when she spoke about Morgan, and Jenny had a hard time believing her niece could show up at the island and immediately killed her aunt. It made no sense to the officer.

Chapter 5

Morgan wasn't even aware that she picked up the coffee cup and started to drink until the hot coffee scalded her lips. It seemed to be just what she needed to bring her out of her daze, and she looked across the table to see Jenny staring at her intently.

Jenny, what's going on?

That's what we need to find out. Talk me through your day. What time did you get to the island, and what did you do when you got here?

Morgan did as Jenny directed and quickly outlined what she had done all day. It didn't take long because she hadn't really done much. She had spent most of her time driving to get to the island. When she reached Pearl Island, she'd made a quick stop to fill up her gas tank, grab a drink, and then she had wandered down to the beach. After that, she waited her turn to cross over the one-lane bridge and then arrived at her aunt's house.

And it was after 2 o'clock that you went down to the beach and talk to your aunt?

Yeah, I'm positive. I looked at the clock before I walked down to the shore. It surprised me no one was here because I knew she was expecting me. Then I remembered how much my aunt loved to walk the beach, so I figured that's where she went. And sure enough, that's where I found her.

Positive about that time?

Morgan looked at the officer sitting across from her, wondering why the time was so important, and she nodded her head in affirmation.

Okay, that seems pretty matter-of-fact. Do you think there's anybody that could collaborate your story?

Well, yes, the cashier at the gas store. Wait a minute, I can do better than that. I have the receipt from the gas. I put it on my credit card. I bet that will say what time I purchased the gas.

That's great, Morgan. If you'll hand it to me, I'll keep it for evidence.

Evidence? Why do you need evidence against me?

Because Sirena was adamant that she saw you kill your aunt. We need that receipt to disprove her claim and clear your name.

Morgan understood Jenny's point and, reaching across the table, grabbed her purse that was sitting on the counter. Digging through her wallet, she pulled up the receipt and started to hand it to Jenny. She hesitated a moment and then grabbed her phone and took a quick picture of it. Then she looked at the officer apologetically.

I'm sorry, it's not that I don't trust you. But I don't know you, and I just got to this island and found my aunt murdered and somebody trying to pin it on me. This is for my protection.

Jenny looked at Morgan with respect. Meredith had always told her that her niece was smart as a whip, street-savvy. Morgan had just proved her aunt's words to be true.

Before either woman could say another word, there was a knock on the door, and before they could answer, it was opened to reveal Jenny's partner, Stanley. Behind him was another man, one that Morgan vaguely recognized from her past. But it wasn't until he spoke that she remembered him.

Morgan, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for Meredith. But I'm here now to help you in any way I can.

It was hard not to see the anguish in the older man's eyes. He was hard hit by Meredith's death, and Morgan remembered that he and her aunt had been close, rarely apart from each other. She had often seen him when she visited her aunt, and the woman had often talked about Dylan, both in her letters and when they spoke on the phone. Suddenly, Morgan felt like she had a friend in her corner. Without waiting for Morgan to answer, Dylan pulled a chair up next to her and reached over to grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. Then he looked over at Jenny and Stanley.

What are you two doing about finding Meredith's murderer?

Stanley popped his chest out as if insulted and pointed his finger at Morgan.

Well, according to an eyewitness, this here is our murderer. She was seen at the crime.

Umm, Stanley, I think we have a problem with our timeline. Did you speak to the coroner before you left?

Jenny stood up and faced her partner, trying to get him to shut up before he said anything more to make himself look foolish.

Yeah, I spoke to him briefly. Why?

Did he give you an approximate time of Meredith's death?

Three sets of eyes turned to Stanley as they waited for his answer. Jenny had a good idea what he would say, but she needed him to say it out loud so the others could hear it.

As near as he can figure it without examination, the coroner’s placing the death sometime early this morning. Approximately 6 AM.

That's what I thought too. Basing it just on the tides, there was no way Meredith's body had been there any earlier without being pulled out to sea, as close as it was to the shore. Besides that, Morgan has proof that she arrived on the island this afternoon, not this morning.

Then who did Sirena see? She insists she saw someone bent over the body, and when Morgan Seaver showed up at the beach, she was quick to identify her. Sirena would have no reason to lie, Stanley countered.

While Stanley had been talking, Dylan had been getting paler and paler by the minute. Morgan looked at him, wondering what was going on, but he gave a slight shake of his head. It didn't take much for her to realize he didn't want to talk in front of the two police officers, and she wondered what was bothering him.

Morgan turned her attention back to the two officers, who were quietly talking amongst themselves. Something clicked; the timeline made little sense. There was no way she could have spoken to her aunt if the coroner placed the time of her death early in the morning. He had to be wrong. She started opening her mouth to dispute the coroner, but once again, Dylan caught her attention and mouthed the word 'no.' Morgan raised her eyebrows at him, but self-preservation kicked in, and she kept her mouth closed. Jenny might be on her side, but she felt like Stanley was opposed to her being in the clear. He wanted to believe Sirena over the facts. And if she were to believe the facts as well, then when she had spoken to her aunt after her death. How was this even possible?

Chapter 6

It appeared Stanley needed to feel self-important. He made Morgan go through her entire timeline once again, even though Jenny had written everything down. The man could have easily looked at her notes to find his answers. It was clear he was trying to discover a way that Morgan had gotten to the island, killed Meredith, and then backtracked so Sirena saw her. He was about to go through the whole process again when Jenny stood up, shaking her head.

Enough, Stanley. Morgan has gone through this more times than she needs to, and she's never varied from her account. There are other things that you and I need to do rather than sitting here, putting Morgan through this again. Let the poor girl come to grips with her aunt's death.

Stanley stuttered and stammered, offended that his partner had cut him off. But Jenny didn't budge, and she held the door open, motioning for Stanley to go. After he walked out the door, she turned back to Morgan and Dylan.

I can't tell you two how sorry I am about Meredith's death. She was a good friend, to most of the people on this island and to me. We will deeply miss her. Dylan?

Yes?

Are you staying here with Morgan?

Dylan glanced at Morgan before he answered, noting that the younger woman was looking dazed and exhausted.

Yes, if Morgan doesn't mind, I'll stay here. There are things we need to talk about. Things Meredith would want her to know and do.

Good. Morgan, I don't want you to feel afraid, but I also don't want you to be on your own, at least until you get a feel for the island and our citizens. Someone murdered your aunt, and without the guidance of somebody who knows who's who, you could step into danger.

Jenny looked back and forth between the two and came to a decision. Dylan, you call me if anything, and I mean anything, seems out of the ordinary. Out of the ordinary for this island. Jenny didn't stay any longer, ignoring the confused look Morgan gave her. Dylan would be the one to answer her questions, and that's the way it should be. But right now, Jenny had to calm her partner down before he started more trouble than he knew he was getting into. And one of the first things she wanted to investigate was just who Sirena really was.

Silence filled the kitchen after the two police officers left. Both Morgan and Dylan seemed lost in their own thoughts. Thoughts about Meredith. It was Dylan who broke the silence first. Reaching across the table, he grabbed Morgan's hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

I failed your aunt. I'm so sorry, Morgan. I wasn't there when she needed me.

Morgan looked up from her coffee with surprise at his words, and she hastened to assure him she didn't hold him responsible for the actions of somebody else against her aunt.

Oh, Dylan, there's no way you would have known somebody would kill Aunt Meredith. No more than I could. If I had known, I could've been here so much earlier, and maybe I could've prevented it. No, there are just some things in life that happen that you have no control over.

Dylan gave a slight nod of agreement and was silent for a few moments, as if carefully picking out his next words.

Meredith was so looking forward to seeing you. There were so many things she wanted to tell you, things she wanted to show and teach you. I think she knew there was trouble brewing.

What do you mean, trouble brewing? Wasn’t this a random act of violence? How could she predict this?

His statement surprised Morgan, but he didn't answer her right away. Morgan was getting an uneasy feeling when he finally broke the silence.

Let me ask you a question. Have you noticed that your visits down here have been longer each time, and you've been more reluctant to leave?

Morgan gave Dylan a curious look, wondering what he was getting at. Rather than answering, she just gave a shrug of her shoulders, and he continued.

You know your aunt shares a lot with me, and I couldn't help but notice as you were taking on new jobs that you were slowly but surely working your way from the north to the south. And you always took jobs near the ocean.

Have I? It wasn't intentional. It's just the way the jobs came–

But you turned away jobs for out west or in the middle of the country. Whether you realize it or not, you were following a family calling to come home.

Morgan shook her head, wondering if the shock of Meredith's death had affected Dylan more than he realized. This all sounded way too hokey for her, and she protested, but he continued not letting her get a word in edge-wise.

Before you dismiss my observation, you need to see something. Getting to his feet, Dylan motioned for Morgan to follow him out of the kitchen. She pushed her chair back and indulged the older man, following him down the hallway that led to her aunt's study. Dylan walked in first, turned the overhead light on, and then pointed to the corkboard Meredith had set up behind her desk. It was a map of the United States from Maine to Florida. Meredith had put push pins in the map all along the coastline, and when Morgan stepped forward, she saw they were places where she had worked over the last few years. She looked at Dylan and then back at the map, surprise registering on her face.

I never realized it. But you're right; I have stayed close to the ocean.

And each of your jobs has been getting shorter and shorter, as if you're being pulled down here. Didn't you feel that, Morgan? Didn't you feel the pull to come to the island?

Morgan stepped away from the corkboard, not sure how she wanted to answer Dylan. To be honest, his intensity was making her nervous. Too much had happened today to deal with something else.

Dylan saw her reaction and hastened to reassure her he wasn't crazy.

These were all things your aunt was going to tell you. Maybe I'm speaking out of turn, or maybe I'm saying things too soon, but we need to talk about what's going on. For now, let's just concentrate on getting you settled in. This is your home now, Morgan.

Chapter 7

Dylan's words hung in the air. Morgan had never called a place home before, but as soon as he said it, she knew it was true. The island was now her home, and whether her aunt intended to leave it to her or not, the Seaver house was now hers. She was the last Seaver alive. Her mother had died years before in a tragic accident not far off the coast from where the Seaver house stood, looking out over the ocean. Meredith had never told Morgan the full details of her mother's death, and she had never asked. As the knowledge of being the last of her family penetrated, Morgan knew she had responsibilities that needed to be taken care of, starting with her aunt. She looked at Dylan, and it was as if he could read her mind. He smiled sadly before he spoke.

There's nothing that you need to worry about Morgan. Meredith made sure that all her final plans were made. She didn't want you to have to deal with anything. The only thing she really wanted was to make sure that you would feel at home here and stay. I'm going to leave now. But if you open the desk drawer, you'll find your aunt left you some letters in case of an emergency. I'll be back later. In the meantime, stick close to the house. There is a killer loose, and you may not know who friend or foe is.

Dylan gave her shoulders a squeeze in comfort and encouragement, then pointed at the desk with one hand and with the other got a key from his pocket. This is my key. Your aunt has another copy on her key ring, but she insisted I have a copy too. You'll understand more when you read the letters, and I'm sure you'll have tons of questions for me. I'll bring dinner when I return, and we can sit and talk. I'll answer as many of your questions as I can.

Without giving Morgan a chance to say anything, Dylan pressed the key into the palm of her hand and then left. Morgan wondered what she would find in the desk. Part of her was curious; the other part was anxious. Staring at the desk, she knew it contained some of her answers and probably more questions. She found she was eager to know, even postmortem, a little bit more about her aunt.

Shrugging her shoulders to fight her hesitation, Morgan walked around to sit in the grand chair behind the desk. The chair was perfect for a queen and was comfortable. The desk was hand-carved, beautifully ornate, and when she looked closely, she saw that the engravings were of mermaids and sea creatures, and she wondered who had done such beautiful work. 

Sitting here staring at the desk isn't going to find my answers. Use that key and unlock it, girl. Morgan scoffed at herself. This was a habit she often had, talking to herself. Maybe it was because, in her profession, she was alone most of the time, and she needed to hear the sound of her own voice.

Taking a deep breath, Morgan used the key and unlocked the drawer. Pulling it open, she saw inside three envelopes and two jewelry boxes. Two of the envelopes looked official in their legal size, sealed with an old-fashioned wax seal. But it was the third envelope that caught Morgan's attention. She recognized her Aunt Meredith's elegant handwriting, and she knew without even touching it that she would find it was a personal letter to her. Like a child wanting to save the best candy for last, she pushed the envelope to the side and reached for the jewelry boxes. She was curious because she couldn’t remember seeing her aunt wear anything other than a ring, and the ring was vague in her memory; she just knew that her aunt always wore it. She flipped the lid of the larger flat box and gasped at the beauty lying in the black velvet insides of the box. She had never seen a more perfect set of pearls in her life, but they weren't the traditional white pearls. No, these were a mixture of colors: white, gray, black, pink, and every other color she'd ever seen in a pearl. The box held the highest quality of each of those colors, gathered and strung together to create this masterpiece. Reverently, she picked them up out of the box and held them against her throat. She instantly felt a sense of peace, and when she pulled the pearls away, her throat felt warm where they had laid. Looking at the box, she saw there was a matching bracelet. She placed the necklace back in the box and reached for the smaller ring size box.

Before Morgan could open the box, something caught her eye outside the window. It was a slight movement, and she turned to find herself staring into the beautiful brown eyes of a longhaired tabby kitten on the other side of the window. The animal had jumped up onto the windowsill and seemed to be watching Morgan's every movement.

Funny, I don't remember Meredith having a cat. Poor thing's probably looking for some food.

Pushing the drawer closed, Meredith jumped to her feet, intent on finding the cat and making sure it had food and water. She'd always had a soft spot for cats, and she hoped this one was friendly, someone she could talk to in this big old house.

But by the time Morgan walked across her aunt's office to the French doors that led out to the patio, the cat had disappeared.

Oh well, he'll come back if he's hungry, Morgan said to herself, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

As Morgan stood looking out into the courtyard, she swallowed and realized all the coffee she had drank had only made her thirstier, and the only cure for that was a cold drink of water. As she walked by the desk, she reached out and grabbed the envelope that had been written by her aunt. She could deal with the rest later, but somehow, she felt it was important she read this letter immediately. It was as if the letter beckoned her with its urgency, and Morgan hoped she would find answers she needed within her aunts’ words.

Chapter 8

Morgan made her way out the front door to sit on one of the rocking chairs on the wraparound porch. The overhang from the roof gave the porch plenty of shade, and the view of the ocean was enticing, but she had no interest in watching the sea at this moment. The letter was calling for her to open it. After taking a big swallow from her bottle of water, she set it down and picked up the envelope. As she felt the packet, she noticed there was a bulge within the papers, and she carefully opened the seal, not wanting to lose what was inside. She held her hand out and tipped the envelope so that the object would fall into her hand. She gasped at the beauty of the gem that sat gleaming back at her. She had never seen a more perfect pearl, nor one in this color; it was a beautiful hue of blue. Putting the papers down, she reached with her other hand and picked up the pearl, holding it up to the light to get a better look at it.

Didn't even know a pearl would come in this color. It's beautiful. Then Morgan noticed that someone had drilled the pearl to go onto a necklace, and she felt sad for a second that they had marred the perfection. She carefully put the blue pearl in the envelope for safekeeping and then turned her attention to the papers sitting on her lap. Morgan recognized her aunt's penmanship. At the top of the page was the date and time, and she drew in a sharp breath. Meredith had written this to her just hours before her death.

'My sweet Morgan. I'm sorry that you must read this without me being around, but I know my time is up. There are so many things I want to tell you. But you should discover what is in store for you a little at a time. Otherwise, believe me, it will be overwhelming. You're not alone here on the island; you have friends here that will help guide your path. Listen to them, rely on them, but rely on your own intuition. I'm sending two special people to be with you. Don't be sad for me. I make this decision on my own; my actions are for the greater good. The good of our family and of protecting the island. All this, you will come to understand later."

Morgan shivered, and she looked around anxiously as if somebody was reading over her shoulder. But there was nobody around, and she dropped her eyes back down to the paper and continued reading.

"First is the pearl. Each member of the family is given a pearl by their predecessor. I have specifically chosen the blue one for you. The blue pearl stands for truth, intuition, trust, responsibility, tranquility, and courage. You will need these qualities in the times to come. There is a box of pearls in my desk underneath the velvet; you will find a chain. This is for your pearl. The chain may look delicate, but it is strong beyond measure, and it will keep your pearl safe. I have added my pearl to the necklace in