side.”
A small path snaked its way beyond the trees to a fourth cottage that Emily lived in. I had seen photos of the place that she had sent years ago when she first got set up there. I just imagined the place would look the same. As I came around a corner of trees that brought me into a clearing, I nearly dropped the piece of luggage I was carrying on my foot.
It was a complete shambles. Rundown and in desperate need of repairs. Heck, I had seen shelters in the city look better than this. And that was just the outside. The other three cottages that she rented out looked the same.
“What on earth…?”
Jamaal looked at me and snorted. “Yep, that’s what Hurricane Fiona will do.”
“But, but…” I was at a loss for words. “The photos.”
I began rooting around in my handbag for them. I had brought them with me to remind me that it was going to all be worth it. I pulled them out and held them up. There had to have been a mistake. Maybe the cottages across the way belonged to Emily’s. She hadn’t said anything about them being rundown. Then again she hadn’t told me she had placed me in her will. None of us had expected her death. It was sudden and completely out of the blue.
Jamaal continued up the path that led up to the first cottage. The only things that looked sturdy were the walls, which were made out of stone. But the floors and roof looked like they had taken one hell of a beating. It would all need replacing or some serious repairs. The lounge chairs outside were turned over, the cushions covered in dirt. Several of the palm trees had been knocked to the ground and caused untold damage in the garden area. I picked up a lone wooden chair, wondering where the rest was. No table. Had they all been blown into the ocean? As I got close to the door I noticed the bug screen had a big tear in it. Oh great, that meant I was going to be up the entire night searching for Mr. and Mrs. Tarantula and their cousins.
I was just about to step inside when a sound of a scooter could be heard getting closer. I peered through the trees and saw a man pull up outside. He didn’t exactly look as if he was in the best mood either. After getting off the scooter he trudged over to the cottages that belonged to Mrs. Arnet. He cast a quick glance in my direction and then disappeared inside.
I breathed in deeply and entered.
Inside it wasn’t bad. Besides the puddle of water on the far side of the living room that had come in from a hole in the roof, it was cozy. Two sandy-colored couches with blue pillows, a footstool, and a beautiful blue painting that matched the pillows were all intact. Everything about the place reminded me of Emily. Her smell, taste in décor, and photos. There was one of me and her. It had been taken in Central Park when she had visited two years earlier. Another was of our parents. Above, a large pine fan spun around kicking up the dust from the furniture. At the far end of the living room was a sliding door that took you outside. I turned over two white lounge chairs and grimaced at the sight of the dirt. I was going to be cleaning until next year. Maybe that’s why she said a year. I stifled a chuckle and tried to remain optimistic.
“Guessing it’s windy around here?”
“The island is in the Windward Isles, so yeah. Expect it to be windy. Nail down anything you don’t want blown away.”
“I will remember that.”
He smiled. “Look, I shouldn’t do this but if you need anything, just give me a shout. Do you have your phone?”
I handed it to him. He tapped in his number.
He scuffed his feet and looked around. “Well, it’s good to have you here, Hayley. It’s going to take me a while to get used to seeing your face. I swear, it’s like looking at Emily.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Jamaal.”
I placed my hands on my hips and looked around.
“Well, Emmy, I hope you know what you’re doing. If you can hear me, I could really use your help.”
3
HAYLEY
I spent the next few
A small path snaked its way beyond the trees to a fourth cottage that Emily lived in. I had seen photos of the place that she had sent years ago when she first got set up there. I just imagined the place would look the same. As I came around a corner of trees that brought me into a clearing, I nearly dropped the piece of luggage I was carrying on my foot.
It was a complete shambles. Rundown and in desperate need of repairs. Heck, I had seen shelters in the city look better than this. And that was just the outside. The other three cottages that she rented out looked the same.
“What on earth…?”
Jamaal looked at me and snorted. “Yep, that’s what Hurricane Fiona will do.”
“But, but…” I was at a loss for words. “The photos.”
I began rooting around in my handbag for them. I had brought them with me to remind me that it was going to all be worth it. I pulled them out and held them up. There had to have been a mistake. Maybe the cottages across the way belonged to Emily’s. She hadn’t said anything about them being rundown. Then again she hadn’t told me she had placed me in her will. None of us had expected her death. It was sudden and completely out of the blue.
Jamaal continued up the path that led up to the first cottage. The only things that looked sturdy were the walls, which were made out of stone. But the floors and roof looked like they had taken one hell of a beating. It would all need replacing or some serious repairs. The lounge chairs outside were turned over, the cushions covered in dirt. Several of the palm trees had been knocked to the ground and caused untold damage in the garden area. I picked up a lone wooden chair, wondering where the rest was. No table. Had they all been blown into the ocean? As I got close to the door I noticed the bug screen had a big tear in it. Oh great, that meant I was going to be up the entire night searching for Mr. and Mrs. Tarantula and their cousins.
I was just about to step inside when a sound of a scooter could be heard getting closer. I peered through the trees and saw a man pull up outside. He didn’t exactly look as if he was in the best mood either. After getting off the scooter he trudged over to the cottages that belonged to Mrs. Arnet. He cast a quick glance in my direction and then disappeared inside.
I breathed in deeply and entered.
Inside it wasn’t bad. Besides the puddle of water on the far side of the living room that had come in from a hole in the roof, it was cozy. Two sandy-colored couches with blue pillows, a footstool, and a beautiful blue painting that matched the pillows were all intact. Everything about the place reminded me of Emily. Her smell, taste in décor, and photos. There was one of me and her. It had been taken in Central Park when she had visited two years earlier. Another was of our parents. Above, a large pine fan spun around kicking up the dust from the furniture. At the far end of the living room was a sliding door that took you outside. I turned over two white lounge chairs and grimaced at the sight of the dirt. I was going to be cleaning until next year. Maybe that’s why she said a year. I stifled a chuckle and tried to remain optimistic.
“Guessing it’s windy around here?”
“The island is in the Windward Isles, so yeah. Expect it to be windy. Nail down anything you don’t want blown away.”
“I will remember that.”
He smiled. “Look, I shouldn’t do this but if you need anything, just give me a shout. Do you have your phone?”
I handed it to him. He tapped in his number.
He scuffed his feet and looked around. “Well, it’s good to have you here, Hayley. It’s going to take me a while to get used to seeing your face. I swear, it’s like looking at Emily.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Jamaal.”
I placed my hands on my hips and looked around.
“Well, Emmy, I hope you know what you’re doing. If you can hear me, I could really use your help.”
3
HAYLEY
I spent the next few
Similar Books
Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1
Shelli Stevens
A Holiday Romance
Bobbie Jordan
The Frightened Man
Kenneth Cameron
The Atlantis Blueprint
Colin Wilson
Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1)
Leigh K. Hunt
Little Red
Justin Cairns
Cold Hit
Linda Fairstein
The Coven
Cate Tiernan
The Woman Upstairs
Claire Messud