The Spyglass Portal: A Lighthouse Novel (20 page)

That ardent wish propelled her into action. “See you later,” she said, dismissing Jason with a backhanded wave. She started the brisk two-block walk to Seagull Lane.

Disappointment seeped into her bones once she reached Daniel’s house. Her knocking brought no results. He was probably watching her from behind a curtain. She moved her steady gaze from window to window and saw no movement inside. After knocking again, she walked to the end of the porch and peered over the rail. There was no car in the driveway and the garage door was open. No car was parked in the garage either. Obviously, Daniel wasn’t home.

She stepped off the porch and looked up and down the sidewalk. Only the neighbor dog—a Chihuahua—was outside, and it was doing its business behind the neighbor’s bush, not paying any attention to her. If she moved quickly, she could duck into Daniel’s back yard without anyone seeing her and search for a fresh mound of dirt. Jason had seen him in the garden looking suspicious, which could only mean he was burying the spyglass.

With her muscles twitching, Sam took another glance up and down the street and then dashed down Daniel’s driveway and into the back yard.

Her gaze raked over the vegetable garden that made up most of the small yard. Jason had mentioned potatoes. Dropping to her knees at the edge of the plot where she could hide behind tall cornstalks, her gaze skimmed the garden looking for a disturbed spot of dirt where Daniel might have buried the spyglass. Barely a minute had passed when the Chihuahua zipped across the grass and bared its tiny fangs at her. It started barking like the devil.

“Go away,” Samantha whispered, trying to shoo the dog away with her hand. It growled and nipped, almost grazing her skin, and then started barking again. It teeter-tottered between its front and back paws with each bark. “You yapping little Mexican jumping bean…”

“Chi-Chi! Come boy!” A high feminine voice sang out from next door. If the annoying mutt’s owner came in search of the dog, Sam would be busted. Spying a small tool shed at the back corner of the property that she hadn’t noticed before, she crouched to her feet and ran hunched over to it. Once she was there, she realized she was in clear view of anyone who might be walking by on the sidewalk, but there was nowhere else to hide.

“Chi-Chi, come to Mama,” the voice called again. The dog ignored its mama and trotted to Sam and locked gazes with her. Its pointed teeth were exposed again, and its lips curled into a snarl.

“Don’t even think about it, you little rat,” she whispered. “Go to Mama.” She glanced over her shoulder praying no one was watching her from the street or strolling by.

“Chi-Chi! Come!” The woman clapped her hands.

Sam glimpsed a pair of feet encased in fuzzy slippers just before she ducked behind the corner of the shed. When she heard the dog scurry through the grass in the opposite direction, she peeked around the corner of the shed and saw a big-boned older woman scoop the dog into her outstretched arms. “What are you doing over here?” she asked the animal while rubbing her nose to his. “Daniel will skin you alive if he catches you digging in his garden again.”

Expelling a breath, Sam waited until the neighbor walked away and her door slammed shut before returning to the garden. There was no time to spare. Maybe Daniel wasn’t opening the antique shop today. Maybe he was running an errand and would return home at any minute.

Potatoes, Jason had said. She knew nothing about gardening, but did have enough common sense to know potatoes grew underground. Crawling on her hands and knees, she reached a patch of fertile soil that lie between tomato plants and beans and began to dig. Like a cat scratching in its litter box, she pawed at the soil with her fingers, sending dirt flying every which way. She was on her fourth hole when she heard someone clear his voice behind her.

“Stand up slowly, Miss,” the deep voice commanded.

Samantha’s head pivoted. A slender man in a policeman’s uniform stood with his feet planted apart. With a thin face and bulging eyes, he reminded her of Barney Fife. His hand rested on the butt of his holstered gun. “Please show me your hands so I know you don’t have a weapon.”

“Crap,” she mumbled while lifting her hands high. “No weapons, Officer.”

He crept closer. “You’re not going to throw dirt in my face, are you?”

“No sir.”

“Okay. Stand up slowly and keep your hands in the air and face me.”

Her knees felt like buckling, but somehow she managed to stand without collapsing. “Officer, I can explain…”

“There will be time for that down at the station. What’s your name?”

“Samantha Landers.”

“Is this your home?”

“Well, no, but please let me—”

“I didn’t think so,” he interjected while yanking handcuffs out of his back pocket. “Please put your hands behind your back.”

Her eyes enlarged. “There’s no need for those, Officer. This is all a misunderstanding. If you’ll just let me explain…”

“Sorry, Miss Landers. I have to follow procedure.” He gently tugged her hands together like a pretzel behind her back and snapped the cuffs on. “I’m afraid it’s my duty to take you in for trespassing and second degree criminal mischief.”

Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. As he escorted her to a squad car parked on the curb in front of Daniel’s house, he Mirandized her and then told her to duck her head before climbing into the back seat. Once inside, she saw that a small group of people had gathered on the neighbor’s front lawn and were gawking and muttering to one another. The neighbor lady held Chi-Chi protectively against her bosom.

As the cop pulled the car away from the curb, he flipped the siren on.

“Is that really necessary?” she groaned.

“Procedure.”

It wailed as he drove down Main Street toward the police station. Grimacing from the back window, she saw pedestrians stopping on the walks to stare, and all the vehicles in the road gave the squad car the right-of-way. Even store merchants came running from their places of business to crowd onto the sidewalk to gape. Seemed an arrest was big news in Pavee Cove. A suffocating weight pressed on her chest.

Mortified, Sam’s humiliation increased twofold when her gaze connected with two people on the sidewalk who watched her pass by: Claire Murphy and her son.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Samantha had sulked in a holding cell for two hours when Barney Fife stepped into the narrow hallway and stood at the bars. “Come here, Miss.”

She jumped up from the hard cot she’d been sitting on and twined her fingers through the bars. “I’m no lawyer, but I’ve watched enough cop shows on TV to know I have the right to one phone call. When do I get it?” she asked.

“No need for a phone call.” His stony face cracked as he slipped a key into the lock and swung open the cell door. “You’re free to go.”

Struck dumb by surprise, it took her a moment to respond. “I don’t understand.”

“The charges have been dropped. You can go home.” He nodded for her to step out of the cell and slammed the door behind her. “Follow me.”

He escorted her to a private office, where she signed her name on a release paper and was told again that she was free to leave. With her heart leaping inside her chest at the sudden turn of events, she practically floated through the main lobby but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Claire Murphy standing next to a bulletin board with Wanted posters on it. “Claire? What are you doing here?”

Claire turned and approached Sam with open arms, enveloping her in a bear hug. “Are you all right, dear? We tried to get you out sooner but the police took their sweet time with the paperwork. They said they had to follow certain procedures.” She rolled her eyes at the same cop who passed by on his way to the front desk. “Did they treat you okay?”

“Yes, but I don’t understand.
You
got my charges dropped?”

“No. You have Daniel Rehobeth to thank, although you’re probably not in a charitable mood. That scoundrel called the law when he returned home from having breakfast at the diner and saw you digging up his garden. I convinced him it would be worth his while to drop the charges against you. Admittedly, it took a while. He’s a stubborn old goat.”

“Then how’d you manage it?” Samantha asked.

“Turns out, he’s not as dumb as he looks.” Claire giggled, then her voice dropped to a whisper. “After all, he
did
steal your antique spyglass from the lighthouse, which I reminded him would get him a first degree burglary charge, not to mention additional charges for possession of stolen property and breaking and entering. When I explained how he could end up with more than twenty years in prison if convicted, he was more than happy to whistle a different tune.”

Sam’s mouth gaped. “But how did you know—?”

Claire cut her off and grasped her elbow. “Let’s get out of here. My car is outside. We’ll talk there.”

Once they’d exited the station, Sam repeated, “How do you know about the spyglass?” She wondered exactly what Claire knew about it.  

Claire opened the passenger door and nodded for her to get inside and then stepped around to the driver’s side. “Daniel told me about it when I asked him why on God’s green earth you’d be digging up his back yard.”

Sam shook her head, feeling ashamed for taking such extreme measures. “What else did he tell you?”

“It’s an antique that belonged to an Irish sea captain who lived in Pavee Cove in the 1800s. Apparently Daniel believes it’s valuable, historically speaking. He admitted he’d suggested you donate it to the museum but you weren’t interested.”

Sam growled. “Did he think I wouldn’t notice it was gone the next time I looked for it? He was the first person I thought of when I realized it was not where I’d left it.
I
should be filing charges against
him
.”

Claire started the car and eased away from the curb. “I know. You’d have every right. But Daniel’s an old man. I don’t think he meant any harm.”

Sam had her doubts about that. “He had me arrested,” she pouted. “Can you imagine how humiliating an experience that was?”

It didn’t take long for Claire to reach her destination and find a parking space near the market, close to where Samantha had left her car earlier in the day. She pulled in and shut off the motor and twisted in her seat. “Yes, I
can
imagine. Something very similar happened to my sister many years ago. It was the worst moment of her life.” Claire’s focus drifted into space for a moment. When she snapped back, she flashed Sam a knowing look. “I’m not taking Daniel’s side, mind you, but you only have yourself to blame for what happened.”

“What?”

“Nobody put a gun to your head and told you to dig up the man’s garden, did they?”

Sam felt her face grow warm. “No.”

Laughing, Claire patted Samantha’s hand. “Forget about it. It’s water under the bridge.”

The two of them exited the vehicle. “Do you have any idea where Daniel is now?” Samantha asked. “And my spyglass?”

“He was headed home after signing the papers to drop the charges against you. I told him you’d stop by to collect what he’d taken from you. And if he didn’t give it back willingly, I’d go to the police myself and tell them what he’d done.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“He was embarrassed,” Claire continued. “This is a small community, you know. His reputation would be ruined if people knew he’d stolen from you. He’s elderly, but he still has pride. Word of him being a thief would travel faster than the bullet train.”

And of me being a psycho who digs up old men’s gardens, Samantha thought, imagining the locals were already gossiping about her. “Thanks for convincing Daniel to change his mind,” she said shaking Claire’s hand. “You sure must have scared him with those threats of incarceration. By the way, how do you know so much about the law?”

“I studied the law in another lifetime.”

When she winked, Sam felt a chill run down her spine. It was a simple reply, so why did it startle her?

“Gotta get back to work,” Claire said cheerfully. “I’ve been meaning to have you over so we can get to know each other better. How about dinner tonight at my house?”

It didn’t take long for Sam to think about it. The distraction would be good for her. And maybe she could learn something more about Aidan and his wife. “That would be nice.”

Claire’s smile broadened. “I’ll have Jason pick you up. Is six o’clock okay?”

“Sure, but I can drive if you give me directions.”

Waving her hand in the air, Claire said, “It’s no bother. Jay likes to drive.”

“All right then. I’ll look forward to tonight.”

“Me too. See you!”

“Thanks again,” Sam called as Claire disappeared into the market. She walked the short distance to her car wondering if Claire’s comment about another lifetime should be taken in the literal sense. Anything was possible in Pavee Cove.

She drove the two blocks to Seagull Lane and strutted up to Daniel’s front door with her chest puffed out ready to do battle.

He opened the door before she’d even knocked. “Come in, Miss Landers,” he said with a solemn expression.

The inside of his cottage—what she could see from the foyer—looked the way she’d pictured the cottage of an elderly bachelor to look. Plain. Gloomy. Boring.

“Wait here,” he said, turning and limping around the corner on his cane.

All of the anger suddenly drained out of her and empathy pierced her heart as her gaze landed on his hump. He waddled back moments later with the mahogany box in his hands. He offered it to her as if it were as holy and significant as King Arthur’s sword. “Here’s Captain McBride’s spyglass,” he said, frowning.

Unwilling to simply take his word for it, Samantha opened the lid and peeked in. She wouldn’t put it pass Daniel to switch the spyglass with another one thinking she wouldn’t notice. But there nestled in the green velvet was the brass telescope. She lifted it out of the case and gazed at the initials etched into the rim. After determining it was the real thing, she thanked him.

He bowed his head. “You won’t tell the police that I stole it?”