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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Adermoor Cove: Here to Stay - 2. Chapter 2

Someone was at the door.

Lane sat up, throwing the blanket on the floor. He’d been napping on the couch when he heard the doorbell ring. He’d yet to move into one of the bedrooms. For the moment he was perfectly comfortable sleeping in the living room. He’d been sleeping a lot, exhausted from making arrangements for his late great aunt’s funeral as well as getting his car back from the lot.

Cursing, he got up and went to the door.

Standing on the porch was Annabelle, the waitress who worked at The Treasure Trove, and an older woman who he’d seen only once, at the press conference in front of the courthouse a few days ago. He’d forgotten her name.

The older woman was dressed up in a yellow dress. A silver cross hung from a chain around her neck. In her gloved hands she held a basket with a red ribbon on it. Inside were various pamphlets and other items Lane wasn’t sure of.

“Good evening,” Lucille said, offering a gloved hand. “I’m Lucille Farmsworth and this is my daughter Annabelle. We were just stopping by to welcome you to Adermoor Cove. Everyone in town is practically buzzing about you.”

“Are they?” Lane said. He shook her hand and nodded at Annabelle. “How’s it going, Annabelle?”

“Great.” Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Sorry to bother you but my grandmother just insisted on stopping by. She’s going to try and invite you to church.”

“Yes,” Lucille said, taking over the conversation. “There are two services every Sunday, one at ten-thirty in the morning and the other at seven-thirty in the evening. I go to every service to hear the word of God. It’s important in these dark times, especially after what’s happened over the last couple of days. You look like you could use the word of God too.”

Lane bit back a string of curse words and smiled. He took the basket from her. “Thank you. I’ll think about it. Have a good day. See you around Annabelle.” Before Lucille could say another word he closed the door. “Crazy old bitch,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t bother reading the title of the pamphlet because he had no attention of going to church - though he did keep the rosary Sister Ellis had given him tucked away in his jacket pocket at all times, especially after what happened with the bear in the woods. He was strangely attached to the cross because it had been given to him as a gift.

But with Lucille there was something that creeped him out; he couldn’t quite say what it was.

He took the basket into the kitchen and threw it into the trash can.

His stomach rumbled. He’d had a light lunch of crackers and cheese before heading into town to do business. Now he opened the fridge and frowned. Barren, mostly, except for a gallon of milk that had gone bad. Nothing he could make a substantial meal out of. His mind roamed, trying to figure out what he was going to do when he remembered he was a millionaire now. I have a whole fortune I can do whatever I want with. He’d been on the road for so long, living frugally with little to no money on hand his mind had skipped over the fact once again.

He grabbed the keys still laying on top of the coffee table where he’d left them and left the lighthouse to start the car. The engine growled into life. He grinned, realizing again how much he’d missed the vintage black Mustang Charlie had worked so hard to restore. He went through the CDs he had. What do I want to listen to today? Two minutes later he was driving down Donovan Road with the windows rolled down, clean mid-September air blowing in, with Korn bashing away on the radio. It felt good to be getting fresh air. When he wasn’t running errands he was back at the house, snoozing away.

Truth be told, up until now, he hadn’t really wanted to go into town. From the moment he’d come to Adermoor Cove it had been nothing but one crazy event after another. He’d been arrested, been in a car accident, and had two encounters with the darkness. But today he decided he was done hiding.

In the downtown area he pulled up to a parking meter and put in enough quarters so he could walk around without needing to rush. The day was warm with the breeze from the Atlantic blowing through his hair. People were strolling lazily past him, normal people living normal lives - or so it appeared. Any one of them might be aware of the crazy things that happened in this town. Lane forced himself not to think about it. For once, I just need to have a normal day where I’m not fighting to survive.

In the end, he went to the Treasure Trove (he really liked their burgers).

“Sorry about Lucille,” Annabelle was saying as she led him to a booth. “I tried to talk her out of it but she wouldn’t listen. She invites any newcomer who moves into town, thinking she’s going to save them from the fiery depths of hell, blah blah blah.”

“It’s cool.” Lane smiled. He liked Annabelle.

“The usual?”

“You know it.”

After he ate and paid the bill he went back to exploring the downtown area. He looked around at a used music shop called U-Spin-It, and a book shop called Turn the Page. By this time the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. Soon people would begin heading home to get ready for bed and begin the day anew. He decided to stop at The Netted Eel for a drink.

He sat at the bar and ordered a beer. He liked coming here at this time of night when the place was quiet and relaxing. He was half way through his beer when a man’s voice cleared their throat and said, “Do you mind if I join you?”

Lane looked up. At first he couldn’t place who the man standing before him was. He looked familiar enough to jog Lane’s memory but not enough to stick out completely. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Mayor Richardson.” The man held out his hand.

Lane studied him for a moment. Perfect blonde hair, blue eyes. Clean shaven. Dressed in a three piece suit tailored so everyone would know who he was. He looked like a mayor. “You were at the press conference for the missing woman.”

“I was.” The mayor put down his hand when it was clearing Lane had no intention of shaking it. He took the stool next to Lane and ordered a whiskey. "Figured I'd say hi and roll out the welcome wagon."

"You haven't been the first. Lucille Farmsworth beat you to it. She brought over a lovely little basket and invited me to go to church with her."

"Yes, she's very good about trying to make sure everyone who comes to our beloved island feels welcome." The mayor downed his shot of whiskey and gestured for a second one.

"Long day?"

Richardson laughed. "Every day is a hard day, Lane. It's not easy running a town. I can only imagine what it would be like if I was the mayor of New York. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the mayor this town deserves. Adermoor Cove is full of good people. This is a good place to live. Especially during the summer. I hear you were on the search party, searching for Ramona and that you were in the car accident that took Enzo's life. I also heard a few days before you went into the police station and caused quite the commotion."

"Wow." Lane tipped the bottle back and downed the rest of his beer. He looked the mayor dead in the eye. "Did a little birdy tell you all that?"

“Well this is a small town. Word tends to travel fast. And the lost Stanton returning to claim his namesake...you’ll be the talk of the town for weeks. For us it’s like a primetime soap opera. Now I didn’t just come here to chitchat...”

“Ah, the truth.” Lane smirked. “I was wondering when you’d cut the bullshit.”

Annoyance, the first flash of Richardson’s true self, passed over his features. “I hope we’re not going to have any problems, Lane. I go through great lengths to keep the people of this island safe...not just from the forces inside of it but the forces outside of it. If people were to know what truly happens here they would never come to this island during the summer.”

“Good,” said Lane. “Did you ever think maybe they shouldn’t? Don’t you think you should let people know what happens here? No, all you care about is money. Money from the fishing industry and the tourist industry.” His heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel his anger mounting. Don’t let this guy get the best of you, he told himself. He exhaled. “I’m not trying to create trouble. I just want the nightmare to stop. That’s why I’m here.”

“There’s nothing to stop.”

“Tell that to Ramona Sterling.”

Richardson glared at Lane. “For your best interest I suggest you leave this island.”

Lane glared back, standing his ground. His hands were clenched into fist. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s advice.”

“Call it what you want but when people say shit like that to me it just makes me want to do the exact opposite. Now you might have money and a fancy suit but let me give you some advice Mr. Mayor: don’t fuck with me. I don’t play by the rules.”

Lane had had enough of this conversation. He paid for the beer and left the Netted Eel before Richardson could say another word.

 

 

Using the phone in the kitchen, Lane called Nora for the first time since he’d stayed at the Mountaintop Inn. There were various reasons why he needed to speak to her: Part of him needed someone to lash out at. He never would have admitted it but the conversation with the mayor had shaken him. He felt like an animal that’s been backed into a corner. He needed someone to lash out at, someone who wasn’t capable of fighting back. The other part, the child which still existed within him needed to hear his mother’s voice.

“Hello?” She sounded exhausted.

He held his breath, uncertain of what to say.

“Who is this?” A second of silence, and then: “Lane, is that you?”

“Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes, “it’s me.”

“Oh thank God...” She stifled a sob of relief. “I thought you were...I thought you were dead...The fire in Denver...”

“I’m fine.” His voice sounded flat to his own ears but the emotion was building up inside him, the hurt, the terror, and the pain. “I’m in Adermoor Cove.”

“Adermoor...” The word faded. “Vanessa...”

“She reached out to me. Told me where to find her. She’s dead now. She died a few days ago and left me everything.”

Now she truly was sobbing. “Lane, I’m so sorry...”

He was gripping the phone in his hand so tightly it hurt; it was no longer possible to contain his anger. “There’s so many things you didn’t tell me, so many things you lied to me about. You didn’t tell me about who my real family is. You hypnotized me...I remember now. The night you came over to the cabin in Denver. Charlie caught you hypnotizing me and made you leave. Why? Why did you do those things?”

An eternity of silence followed. He could still hear her breathing on the other line but that was it. He was getting ready to hang up when she said, “I can’t explain it to you on the phone. I’m coming to you. I’m coming to Adermoor Cove.”

“No you’re not,” he said. “I don’t want you here.”

Then he hung up.

 

 














 

Copyright © 2019 ValentineDavis21; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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