High Tide Page 2

  “Sorry?”

  Walter shook his head. “Every time I’ve gone down there looking for McKenzie, I’ve been on land. I’m starting to think that’s part of why I can’t find her,” he answered.

  “You think being on the water might help you pick up on her signal?”

  “It might. Or give me some hint as to where she might be.” Walter pivoted on his heel, racing back up the stairs.

  I left him to whatever plan he was hatching and went in search of Maggie. I’d made it half a block before I realized she probably wasn’t working, given today was a holiday. I made a show of checking the clinic anyway. Noting the darkened interior and walked the brief trek to Maggie’s apartment. I rang the buzzer to the top floor unit and waited.

  “Hello?” Maggie’s voice came through the speaker.

  “Maggie, it’s Darcy. Sorry to bother you on your day off, but I was hoping I could beg a favor,” I said wringing my hands.

  The door buzzed open in response and I climbed the stairs to the third floor. She already stood in the doorway when I reached the landing. She wore denim shorts and a tank top that showed off her broad, muscular build.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  My mouth went dry as I reached her. It seemed silly now, coming all this way when I probably could have gotten medication from Tania. In that moment, I could hear Maggie scoffing at my request and calling it the pretense it clearly was.

  “I … uh, I’m going on a river cruise with Sage and some other people from work and open water doesn’t really agree with me. I didn’t know if you had something that might help?” It came out in a single rushed breath of air.

  “You do know they sell Dramamine at the store, right?” she said with a soft laugh before ushering me in.

  “I remembered that right before I got here. I can just go to the store …” I said, hooking a thumb over my shoulder toward the stairs when she cut me off.

  “Don’t be silly. Come on in. I’ll mix something up for you.”

  It felt comfortable being in her living room-kitchen combo. I watched as Maggie disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a jumble of containers in her hands. She spread them on the kitchen counter and began mixing their contents together in a small glass jar. I tried to peer over her shoulder to get a better look, but it was as if she sensed me and angled her body to block my view. After a few minutes, she turned on the tap and filled the jar with water. I caught the sound of a metal cap screwing on and she shook the liquified concoction with a sloshing sound before pivoting and offering it to me.

  “How much do I owe you?” I asked, taking the jar of murky bluish purple liquid.

  “A review of how well it works.” She must have noted the confusion on my face, because she added, “I’ve never technically made anything for sea sickness before. So, you’re kind of my guinea pig. If it works for you, let me know, and maybe I could start offering it at the clinic.”

  If anyone other than Maggie had admitted to making me their guinea pig, I would have been offended. Coming from her, it was almost sweet. “I think I can manage that. So, should I just drink it all now?”

  “I’d start with a few sips right before you get on the water and see how it works. Then take more as needed.”

  I tucked the jar under my arm and stood there awkwardly staring at her. “Right. Thanks.”

  “I hope you’re able to have fun. What cruise are you doing?”

  “Uh, you know, I didn’t realize there was more than one to be honest and Sage didn’t mention it.”

  I’d seen boats coming and going the last few weeks, but hadn’t paid much mind to whether they were different companies or not. Maybe it was ignorant of me to assume that one boat tour was the same as another?

  “There’s quite a few that come through here, usually from down the Cape. Like I said, have fun.”

  That signaled the end of our conversation and I said goodbye as my phone buzzed in my pocket, letting me know I was going to be late if I didn’t haul it to the pier. I patted the jar one last time before retracing my steps to the street. I moved with deliberate steps toward the boardwalk. I paused long enough to check my phone and the group text Sage had sent last night on where to meet up to get our tickets.

  I spotted Sage standing at the outer edge of a cluster of other familiar faces and I hurried on. Her brightly colored hair was a good beacon to draw the eye, but the sign Thomas held above his head with High Time’s logo provided an extra level of confirmation.

  “Hey, Darcy. Glad you made it,” Sage said when she spotted me.

  “Hope I haven’t missed the good stuff,” I answered.

  She shook her head, aqua-colored hair bobbing around her cheeks. She passed me a paper ticket. “No. The boat’s just pulling into dock now. We’ll board in a few minutes and be back here this evening.”

  I shifted the jar of Maggie’s sea-sickness concoction, wishing that my magic allowed me to shrink things. Thomas stepped closer, the ends of his dreadlocks fluttering in the breeze.

  “You know this is still a work thing, right?”

  “It’s for seasickness,” I replied.

  He winked, as if he didn’t believe me before returning to his sign holding duties. I swallowed the nerves clenching my throat tight as I spotted the boat pull into harbor. Time to get this over with. I unscrewed the lid, pressed the rim of the jar to my lips and drank. I didn’t want to find fault with Maggie on the job she’d done, but the taste could use some refining. I gave an involuntary shudder as the concoction settled in my stomach. Turning my attention to the boat we’re meant to board; I studied the exterior of the hull. Anything I could do to distract myself from the fact we would soon be out on open water. The lower half of the hull in the water took on a muted blue-grey tone when the sunlight hit it. The rest of the siding wasn’t white; at least it hadn’t been white in some time. Eggshell might be a better description with faded purple horizontal lines running under the upper deck, framing the name ‘Merchant Day Cruises’ in a tilted blocky script. The name was the least faded part of the exterior. I made a mental note to tell Maggie which cruise we’d gone on the next time I saw her.

  The vessel itself wasn’t large. Not that I had any real grasp of boat measurements, but if it could hold more than fifty people, I’d be surprised. Not knowing the number of passengers already on the boat, I eyed our group warily. A quick tally of the people I recognized clustered around Sage and Thomas only added up to ten. Turning to look back down the boardwalk, I spotted a few others milling about, visiting the shops along the pier. At least we wouldn’t have to worry about being over capacity.

  I expected to see more people come up on the boat’s deck, given the warm weather. Plus, I assumed given Brookhaven’s reputation as being supernatural, a boat tour would have brought more interest. Then again, I still had trouble believing most normal people took the truth of the town’s inhabitants seriously. I’d been skeptical my first time here, too. But back then, I’d been struggling with how to accept my own supernatural abilities. Though that didn’t mean my powers were a known thing by everyone. Sage still thought I just had a green thumb. And the less Ginny Hayes thought about me period, the better. The deck of the boat remained barren as the boat settled against the dock and a motorized gangplank descended, making contact with the wooden pier with a clanging ‘thud.’

  “Aren’t people going to get off and explore?” I questioned, nudging Sage in the shoulder.

  She turned, brushing strands of hair behind her ear. “When we come back this afternoon, there will be time for the folks who paid for the longer cruise to come explore the town.”

  “So, where are we going, then?” I probed.

  Sage didn’t have time to answer before a stocky man with a thinning hairline and a bushy beard descended the gangplank. He produced a clipboard and paper ledger. I assumed he was the captain, but he wasn’t wearing any of the traditional garb I’d associate with the position. No hat or jacket with shiny brass fasteners and no oversized hat. Just a light windbreaker over his navy blue t-shirt and wrinkled khakis. The rest of the High Time employees who’d decided to go on the excursion queued in front of me. The line affording me just enough time to pop into a nearby shop to buy a small bag to stow the jar in before handing over my ticket and setting foot on the deck.

  “Wait, I have a ticket,” Walter called, sprinting down the pier toward us.

  The man taking tickets scowled, but accepted the ticket and let him on. Walter clung to the railing long enough to catch his breath and give me a small wave. When the last of the new passengers were aboard, the bearded man disappeared around a structure I had to assume housed the engine and navigation controls. I gripped the railing along the side of the boat next to Walter as I watched the water beneath ebb and flow, bobbing us up and down. The contents of my stomach sloshed and I sucked in a deep breath, holding it. I could handle a little open water. As the boat’s engine revved and churned the water into a frothy foam behind us, I watched Walter turn his back to the pier. His gaze was focused out on the expansive body of water before us. I suspected he hoped to find some clue that might point to McKenzie’s whereabouts.

  “To the ladies and gentlemen who have just joined us, please make your way below deck for some light refreshments. We’ve had some choppy seas today so being below deck should provide as smooth a ride as possible. We will be at Haven Island in approximately thirty minutes,” a deep male voice said in a monotone over a crackling intercom.

  I trailed Sage down the four stairs at the stern of the boat. Maybe a dozen other passengers sat grouped in small clusters in seats bolted to the walls below deck. Rows of benches took up the center of the space with a small table along the opposite wall, boasting what looked like a carafe of coffee and some pastries with some sort of nuts crumbled on top of them.

  I had no desire to give my stomach more reason to revolt, so I sat in one of the seats nearest the stairs and watched my co-workers settle in on the benches around me. A few of them meandered through the cramped space to get coffee or food, but most simply found space as the boat’s engine continued to thrum, droning in my ears. The inability to hear or hold a conversation below deck outweighed the relative stability the room afforded. Walter was the last to join us and crammed himself into a seat closest to the front of the boat, beside a small circular window. I turned my attention to the other passengers seated along the opposite wall.

  I had no way of knowing if they were one large group or several smaller ones, but the way they sat sequestered from each other suggested at least two groups. One was a family with two squirming children who kept pivoting in their seats, staring out the windows, jabbing their stubby fingers against the glass as they spotted whatever amused them. The woman who accompanied them kept reaching over and trying to force them to sit facing inwards without much luck.

  The second group consisted of all adults who looked bored by the whole experience. Two men sat buried nose-deep in their phones while two women glanced across the room at the food, maybe deciding on whether to risk it as the boat undulated on the waves.

  “Sorry for the rough seas, folks. We should be through the worst of it in a few minutes,” the same male voice announced.

  Trying to distract myself from the discomfort, I rotated in my seat. Leaning one elbow on the back of the bench, watching the open water rise up around us through the small porthole. I thought I could make out the edges of a small land mass ahead of us, slowly growing larger and more defined as we raced toward it. For a fleeting moment I could swear I saw a dark head of hair appear from beneath a wave close to shore. The figure turned and I could swear she looked eerily similar to Vera Chase.

  McKenzie.

  “Welcome to Haven Island. We will be docking shortly. Passengers are welcome to get off and explore the area,” the male voice said and just as his voice faded over the loudspeaker, so too did the distant figure in the water.

  I sucked in a breath as the boat slowed. I could make out a dock through the tiny window and glanced over at Walter who still sat glued to his own window. Had he seen what I had? Or had it just been the water playing with my imagination? I wasn’t looking for more mysteries to solve today. I only wanted a nice day off.

  3

  The family with the small children were first on deck, followed by the two women in the other group. I led the pack for High Time’s employees, grateful to see land only a few meters away. I gazed out at the sandy beach that greeted us, backed by a copse of trees. A slender woman in a vibrant purple dress that could have matched the logo on our boat if it hadn’t been so weather-beaten approached as people disembarked.

  “Good morning everyone. Please gather around,” the woman called, waving her hands to urge stragglers off the boat and onto dry land. “My name is Corinne Toomey and I want to welcome you all to Haven Island.”

  The moment my feet met the sandy ground of the island, the hairs on the backs of my arms bristled in warning. If Beau had been with me, I could have discreetly asked him what might be sending up danger signals. But my telepathic friend hadn’t come on this trip and as magical as he might be, I didn’t think he had the ability to teleport or read my thoughts from such a distance.

  I tried to ignore the unease as the rest of the High Time contingent and Walter joined the tour group. Corinne flashed a wide, no-doubt practiced smile at everyone. She clapped her hands together to put the focus back on herself. “I will be your liaison while you’re on the island today. Just a few ground rules before you get started. First, please be mindful that the island has several private residences. They are, of course, private property and entering them without permission is against the law. So, let’s avoid that, okay? And second, some of the plants on the island are … unfriendly to humans. We’ve done our best to mark them with orange markers.”

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into bringing the kids here,” the woman who now toted the smaller child in her arms sniped at the man she’d come with.

  “Oh, come on, they’ll be fine,” he responded as the older child swung his hand back and forth like a pendulum.

  “You know Simon runs off the minute you let go of his hand,” the woman argued.

  “And that’s why I brought the backpack,” the man answered, producing a small pack with a monkey’s tail leading to a wrist strap.

  “Excuse me, do you have printed maps or anything?” Sage asked loudly, drowning out the couple’s bickering and wrangling of little Simon into the pack.

  “I’m afraid not. But the island is equipped with a very good Wi-Fi signal and if you go to Brookhaven’s town website you’ll find a digital map of the island. Now, if you would follow me.”

  Corinne spun on her heel and it was then I realized she was wearing actual heels. The move left a neat hole in the sand when she marched toward the tree line with all of us in tow. I should have been using the short trek to more stable footing to take in our surroundings, but I couldn’t stop my brain from questioning why anyone would wear such impractical shoes on an island.

  “Who thinks to grow poisonous plants on an inhabited island?” one of the men who’d been glued to his phone remarked as we followed Corinne through a clearly marked space amongst the trees and into a more populated area. The sand gave way to paved streets. I spotted rows of tiny orange flags as she led us to a small single-story wooden building with a painted sign hanging over the front door reading ‘Ollie’s Oddities.’ I spotted another wooden structure up the way with smoke billowing from a chimney.

  “You are welcome to explore the main part of the island,” Corinne said, then consulted her watch. “Please be back here before two o’clock. The boat leaves promptly and I’m afraid your vessel is the only one coming to the island today.”

  The family, little Simon in the lead with his monkey backpack, took off in one direction, while some of my co-workers, Thomas included, headed for Ollie’s Oddities. I stayed rooted to the spot, immobilized by indecision. I’d come here looking to relax and get to know my co-workers. Yet I couldn’t stop wondering if Walter was right and this place might hold some clue to finding his sister.

  “First time off the main land?” Corinne’s voice was jarring in my ear when I realized she’d moved to stand beside me.

  “I’m not much for open water,” I answered.

  She reached a manicured hand over and patted my shoulder. “You’re on dry land now, honey. Have a look around.”

  “You know, I was curious about the island, if you don’t mind answering a few questions,” I said, an idea forming in my head.

  “Sure.”

  I played up the foreigner angle to feed into her sense of ego. If she thought she was educating me, she might be more willing to share information she would normally keep to herself. “I’m not from around here. Well, I mean, I live in Brookhaven, but I’m a recent transplant,” I began.

  “I had a suspicion you weren’t local,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

  “So, you can imagine, I’m still learning loads about this area of the United States. To be honest, until we got on the boat, I didn’t know this island even existed.”

  “Well, the town of Brookhaven purchased the island about eighty years ago from the government. Most of the flora here is native. We brought in some of the trees you see along the beach, but everything else was already growing here.”

  I gestured to the neon orange markers nearest us. “Couldn’t you just get rid of them?” Even as I asked the question, my chest ached at the thought. Before discovering my plant magic, I hadn’t been the world’s biggest fan of leafy green things. Now I had a healthier respect for them.

  “Oh, they tried.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Unfortunately it’s how we learned so many of them seemed to be poisonous. In the end, developers found it was easier to just mark them off.”

  “And you mentioned private residences. I assume they’re wealthy.”

  She nodded. “Most come from New York or Boston. Old money, that sort of thing. But every now and then we’ll have a tour. Usually at the start of summer.”