Part 12 (1/2)
”Hmm, I see.” Fritz uncrossed his legs and sat forward. ”A teenager, and that would've been . . . ?”
”Well . . .” She did some swift arithmetic in her head. ”Jackson just turned forty and I believe he said he was fifteen that summer, so it must've been about twenty-five years ago.” Sam c.o.c.ked her head and studied him. ”Why?”
”Too young, even for Blanche,” he muttered.
”Blanche? Who's Blanche? Why all the questions? And how does this relate to a strange woman prowling around my dock?”
”Blanche was the woman who lived here back then, but I'm sure it's just a coincidence that you wound up staying in this particular cabin.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ”However, it's not a coincidence that you're seeing a woman dressed in lavender. That was Blanche's favorite color.”
”She's prowling around her old home?”
”No, Blanche left the lake about the time your fiance spent his summer here. He probably didn't even know her.” He looked toward the patio door and to the lake beyond. ”But plenty of others still living here did.” He turned back to Sam, his face once again tightening. ”I'm afraid, my dear, someone has selected you as the target of a rather cruel joke.”
Chapter Twelve.
Anne came back in the kitchen just in time to hear Fritz's remark. Wonderful. She might have considered the same thing, but Anne thought back to what Sam had said about feeling exposed. Now that Fritz had planted the seed that Sam wasn't safe here at the cabin, she'd never get Sam to come out of her bedroom.
But watching them, Anne was surprised. They were chatting away like new best friends. Sam seemed relaxed and comfortable in Fritz's company. What had happened while she'd been on the phone with Caleb? Whatever it was, she was glad to see the change in Sam, and even though Fritz was not her favorite person, the interaction was good for Sam.
Noticing Anne, Fritz turned. ”I think someone is playing tricks.”
”Any suspects?” she asked.
Fritz c.o.c.ked his head and gave her a knowing look. ”One.”
”Teddy Brighton,” Anne stated flatly.
”Ah.” He leaned back in his chair. ”You've already considered the possibility.”
”Who's Teddy Brighton?” Sam interjected.
”A little hooligan,” Fritz replied in a clipped voice, then, with a look at Anne, shrugged. ”No insult intended toward Caleb.”
”Caleb is not hanging out with him,” Anne shot back quickly. ”For once I agree with you, Fritz, and I've told Caleb to stay away from him.”
”Does he live at the lake?” Sam asked.
”For the summer,” Fritz replied. ”I heard there'd been a problem concerning Teddy and a missing car, so he's been banished to the lake and placed under the watchful eye of his grandmother Irene.”
”Brighton?” Sam's eyes narrowed. ”That name sounds familiar.”
”The family is quite influential. Irene's family were lumber barons,” Fritz said. ”Lots and lots of lovely money that Ted Two has used to build a successful construction business.”
”That's where I heard the name,” Sam said with a snap of her fingers. ”Jackson mentioned them. They were involved with the new wing at the hospital.”
Fritz gave a slight nod. ”It wouldn't surprise me. Ted Two is just a bit older than your fiance and has his fingers in a lot of pies.”
”You saw his mother and wife at the beauty shop, Sam,” Anne remarked.
”The two women whispering?”
”Yeah.”
”The grandmother looked a little old to be handling a delinquent teenager,” Sam said.
Tipping his head back, Fritz gave a bark of laughter. ”You don't know Irene. She rules that family with an iron fist. When he was alive, she kept Ted One on such a short leash, it was a wonder he didn't strangle.” His attention drifted around the room. ”Of course, he was known to slip it off occasionally. Right here in this cabin, as a matter of fact.”
Anne's eyes widened in shock. ”Blanche and Theodore Brighton?”
”Yes. It was-”
Sam held up a hand, stopping him. ”Wait, the Blanche who lived here?”
”Yes, there was only one Blanche.” He paused. ”Thank G.o.d. As I said, her presence graced-if one could call it that-these four walls.” Fritz settled back in his chair. ”Blanche may have wreaked havoc wherever she went, but I have to give her this-she was never afraid to live her life as she saw fit. She was never afraid to go after what she wanted, even if it did belong to someone else.”
”Was she married?”
”Yes, to Harley Jones, the poor, besotted fool. It's an often-told tale-old bachelor gets hooked by a much younger woman.” He shook his head. ”And, by G.o.d, she led him a merry chase. When she finally ran off, he sold this place and moved to the city.”
”They've never been back?” Sam asked.
”No, but I'm sure wherever Blanche may have landed, she's still causing trouble.”
”And now you and Anne think that Teddy is pretending to be Blanche and wandering around the lake?”
”Possibly.”
”Why?”
”Who knows what goes on in that young man's head? I, for one, wouldn't care to find out.” Fritz paused. ”It could be that he's doing it to shake up his grandmother-trick her into thinking that Blanche has returned in order to get back at her for trying to control him. Irene's reaction to the mere mention of Blanche's name is well known. Or he might have heard about you, my dear, and decided to play a prank on you.”
”Why me?”
”Everyone's been wondering about you. They've heard just enough to want to know all of the gory details.”
”It's none of their business,” Sam declared hotly.
”True, but it doesn't lessen their curiosity.” Fritz pursed his lips. ”It could be that, thanks to the rumors, Teddy sees you as an easy target. Anyone else might run him off with a load of buckshot. You, on the other hand, wouldn't.”
While Anne watched Fritz talk about the Brightons and Blanche, she saw Sam's demeanor change. Her body seemed to shrink and her eyes lost their spark. She could almost see Sam's carefully constructed wall rise again to its formidable height. If Fritz would've just left well enough alone without sharing all that old gossip. But no, as always, he had to stick his nose in where it didn't belong.
Fritz pushed away from the table and rose. ”Well, that's enough of a stroll down memory lane.” He looked down at Sam. ”I would caution you not to repeat what I've told you this morning. Irene Brighton isn't the only one who finds the subject of Blanche Jones distasteful.”
But before he could leave, Anne spied the mail carrier pulling up in front of the cabin. Stepping out on the porch, she collected a large package, addressed to Sam. Excited, she held it up. ”Were you expecting this?”
”Yes,” Sam replied in a terse voice and with a lift of her eyebrows. ”So Dan finally got around to it.”