Fear Thy Neighbor (26)
“Not much, though again, there are rumors, gossip, whatever you want to call it, that the owner is a bit looney, has a son who has issues. Not sure if it’s true. Lots of gossip goes on here, folks in and out of the cottages. Some of them are local. I guess it keeps them occupied when they’re not working.”
“I guess if you don’t have anything better to do,” Alison said.
Lacey hesitated, then spoke. “Did you stay there?”
Alison nodded. “Just one night.” She wasn’t going to go into detail about the insane night she’d experienced. In due time, she’d make a point to learn what she could about Betty.
“I guess that was enough,” Lacey stated.
A loud scream, followed by another scream, then crying, captured Lacey’s attention. “The twins,” she said, then, “We’re here twenty-four-seven if you need anything.”
Alison nodded before returning to her car. Poor Lacey—the lady was sweet, but Alison guessed her to be one of the gossips she spoke of. She parked in front of the carnation pink cottage and couldn’t help but grin. Someone either had a sense of humor, or they were truly into flamingos. Inside, the room reminded her of a real live dollhouse. A pelican border encircled the entire space. The bright white chairs had pink pillows with white flamingos; the bed coverings were bright pink with white pillows in the shape of the bird. Alison walked through the small space, seeing most of the décor was the same throughout. The shower curtain sported pelicans, and the pink towels, with more white pelicans, continued the theme. Cute, Alison thought, but after a while, you’d go crazy with all the pink. Tonight, she didn’t care. All she wanted was a hot shower, a cool drink, and a soft bed. Tomorrow would be here soon enough. She would deal with life one day at a time, as usual.
Chapter Five
A lison rolled over in bed, sighing as she delved deeper into the plush bedding. She’d never slept in a bed so comfortable, one she wanted to spend the day in. She lay there, thinking about her plans for the day, what she hoped to accomplish, remembering what Lacey told her. Surely there had to be a mistake; she’d simply attribute it to island gossip. She decided to make a quick stop in the Souvenir Store if there was time and ask Valentina if it were true. She soaked up the luxurious comfort for another half hour before dragging herself out of the bed to take another long, hot shower.
She dressed in cut-offs, a purple T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. Alison planned on spending most of the day working on the overgrowth on the property. Even though it didn’t officially belong to her, she was ninety-nine percent sure she would go through with the purchase. She locked up after hiding her old, battered suitcase in the closet. There was a coffee maker in the tiny kitchen, but no coffee. With caffeine on her mind, she cranked up the Jeep’s engine, heading over to The Daily Grind.
The parking lot was packed. She found a tight spot, maneuvering the Jeep between a red Ford truck and a white Nissan Sentra. Careful not to ding the door on the Nissan parked on the driver’s side, she slid out of the Jeep, cautiously closing the door.
Inside, the coffee shop buzzed. It made sense that it would be crowded like this on a Sunday morning. Alison scanned the tables for a familiar face. Seeing no one she’d encountered, she waited her turn, then ordered two large black coffees to go. She gave the barista a five, then returned to her car wondering where the fish-eyed owner was on such a busy morning.
The traffic was unusually light, she thought. Church, maybe? Alison hadn’t seen a church, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. Churches didn’t necessarily have to be in a structured building. She’d attended a few services inside garages, a basement, and once in a park.
She drove along Pine Tree Road. She needed to stop at the hardware store by the marina. Not relishing the idea of potentially bumping into John the jerk, she needed tools in order to clear out the driveway. She couldn’t see herself parking in a public parking lot, trudging in and out with shopping bags and such; not to mention she wanted a clear view of her Jeep just in case she needed to run.
No, she had to change her way of thinking. There would be no need to run again. She would have a home of her own, maybe friends, a life. Years of running wouldn’t be easy to shelve, but she knew she could do this. She had to. At almost thirty, she knew it was past time to settle down, leave behind what she’d been running from. Years of living frugally had paid off. Trusting Henry Alder to invest for her had been another smart move on her part. Owning a home had been her ultimate goal; in a matter of hours, she would check this off her bucket list. Excitement swelled in her heart, her head, as she thought of all the dreams she’d had, this being the biggest.
Gibbons Hardware was located next to Terri’s Diner, which was directly across from John’s bait shop. Parking the Jeep, she went inside the store, the odor of paint strong, along with fresh cut lumber, and something else . . . grease, maybe.
“Somethin’ I can help you with, Miss?”
The man had to be in his seventies. He walked slowly, his back stooped a bit, though he met her with friendly eyes when he spoke. In faded blue coveralls with a rag hanging out of his pocket, a wrench in the other, he spoke in a hoarse voice. “I ain’t see you around these parts.”
“No, I’m new to the area. I wanted to get some tools—not sure exactly what I need. I’m clearing out some overgrowth, a couple of small trees, tons of bamboo shoots.”