The Night Mark(90)

“Baby? What baby?”

“Our baby, Millie, my love. That’s how I found you. Your friend Mr. Hartwell was digging around your bedroom for some damn reason and found your note. Glad to know you changed your mind about drowning yourself.”

Marshall pulled a folded sheet of stationery from his pocket, and Faye snatched it from his hand, opened it and read it as Marshall started the engine and steered the boat away from the pier, from the lighthouse, from everything she loved.

Dear Carrick,

I don’t know if you’ll ever find this letter. I don’t know if I want you to, but for the sake of my conscience I must write it. I thought I could be free of Marshall. I thought I could start a new life, and I knew if anyone could help me, it would be you. Marshall always said you were the best of men. It is the rare thing my husband and I have ever agreed on. You are indeed the best of men, but even you can’t save me now. Today was my seventh morning at the lighthouse, and the third morning I woke up ill. No longer can I deny the truth to myself. I am carrying his child. I cannot stay with you and bring scandal to your good name, and I cannot return to my husband. There is only one place left for me and it is not in this world.

Please do not blame yourself for my death. I dreamt last night that I was reborn into another life where you were my husband and the child I carried was yours, but it was only a dream. Perhaps in another life. Perhaps in another time...

Forgive me, Carrick. Pray for me. I cannot be your Faith any longer, but in my heart you will always remain... My hero.





Millie

Faye gasped reading the letter, gasped and then wept. So that was why Faith had thrown herself into the ocean wearing a heavy coat although it was a summer night. She was pregnant with her abusive husband’s child and was determined to drown herself. And if Faith/Millie was pregnant, then...

“I’m pregnant.”

“About damn time, too,” Marshall said, scoffing. They were speeding away from the lighthouse so fast the wind ripped the note from her shaking hand. “Apparently your friend Mr. Hartwell had been in Boston recently, heard about my wife’s disappearance and put two and two together when he found your note. He sent me a telegram. I came right down and met him, and he made me a deal. For ten thousand dollars, he’d tell me where my wife was, and then he would conveniently forget to tell the whole wide world how my pregnant wife was giving up the goods to a Carolina lighthouse keeper. I gave your friend his ten thousand dollars and a bullet to the brain for his trouble. I took the money back. I let him keep the bullet. Would you like one, too?” He patted his pocket, where Faye saw the telltale bulge of a pistol. “I have five more.”

Faye was going to be sick. She could hardly breathe, hardly speak.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he said. “I won’t kill you until after the baby’s born. Now I just have to figure out what to do about Carrick.”

“I’ll do anything you want, go anywhere with you. Just don’t hurt Carrick.”

He slapped her across the face, quick and hard. Faye gasped. She’d never been struck by anyone before.

“Don’t you ever tell me what to do. I’ll break that dumb mick’s neck if I want. Jesus Christ, Millie Anne, do you have a single brain cell in your head? You really gave up everything I have for him?”

“Carrick would cut off his own arm before he raised his hand to me, or any woman.”

“Well, I did my fair share of slumming while I was in the service. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised my wife wanted to do a little slumming herself. He’s handsome enough. I’ll still have him arrested and horsewhipped, but really, I can’t blame either of you.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Faye said.

Marshall smiled.

“I just added another ten minutes to his whipping.”

A popping sound exploded around them.

“What the hell?” Marshall said. Faye looked past him and saw Carrick standing on the pier with his shotgun aimed directly at Marshall. “Goddamn it, I wanted him to rot in prison. I suppose I’ll have to kill him instead.”

Marshall pulled his pistol out of his pocket. Faye instinctively lunged for the gun as it went off.

It was poorly planned on her part, but it did the trick. Splinters flew at Carrick’s feet. His eyes grew wide, but he didn’t back off. Instead, he raised the shotgun in the boat’s direction again.

Marshall muttered to himself and pulled Faye close to him, using her as a shield. He raised the pistol over her shoulder and steadied his aim— Not again. Faye would not lose the man she loved again. She would die first. She would die now if she had to. Anything to save Carrick. Anything.

Faye wriggled free of Marshall’s grip and dived off the side of the boat.

Once in the water, Faye kicked the rope off her ankles. Her wrists, however, were bound tighter. She surfaced, and heard Marshall screaming. At her? Faye kicked hard and tried to swim away from him as fast as possible.

Swimming in the open water was harder than she’d ever dreamed. With her hands tied she couldn’t do much more than tread water. Insane with fury, Marshall shot wildly in her direction.

Better he shoot at her than at Carrick. If she could only survive a few seconds more, then maybe it would be all right. Even now Faye felt the water churning around her like a pot on high heat starting to boil. It was happening again as she sensed it would. Time was coming for her. Better for her to live without him in 2015 than for him to die in 1921.