A Place Called Paradise. Honey Perkel
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Since those days in Peru, Lulu had been aware of Bernard’s activities. She’d read about him on the internet, in newspapers, and copies of Occult Digest. She’d seen him interviewed in shadow, on Meet The Press and CNN. Throughout her travels studying the paranormal, his name had repeatedly come up. So she was surprised when he called and summoned her to Oregon. Working with him would be ... well, she couldn’t come up with a word.
Halley Bee said that Bernard had asked others to come on this mission — that they would destroy the bad guy together. But who were the others? Were they already here in town?
Finally, Lulu’s thoughts turned to Ben. Handsome, Irish-speaking Ben. She was so drawn to him. His looks. His mannerisms. There was something different about him. And maybe knowing that having a romantic relationship with the man was out of the question, was part of the lure. She could get close, let him in as a friend, and not be afraid of getting hurt. She didn’t have to prove anything to Ben, since he wouldn’t look at her anyway. She didn’t have to succumb to any of his advances. Lulu could just be herself.
Without warning, a flashing image of her mother came into view. Her body lying in the family’s driveway covered with blood. The murder. The pain. Lulu’s mind stopped. Her eyes snapped open.
Spirit was still sitting on the edge of the bathtub, staring at her.
“Well, help me out here,” Lulu said to the cat. “Don’t just glare at me!”
Lulu gave a slight shrug. She wasn’t getting anywhere with this meditation. Rising from her seat, she hastened to the kitchen in search of a bag of chocolate.
A Message Delivered
Iva Bacon stepped into the office of The Gull Cottage Motel. She was hopeful, as she was each morning, asking the same question.
“Is there a message for George and me?”
And she was always given the same answer. “No, Iva. No message.”
There were days when she went to the motel office more than once. Sometimes getting word from Bernard was all she could think about during her day. There were times when Molly wasn’t behind the desk. When either Laura or Kathy was on duty, instead. Iva preferred to ask Molly her question, as she always received a sympathetic look from her. The other women didn’t seem to care if she got a message or not.
Iva could’ve picked up the telephone in her cottage and made the call, but it felt good to get out of the motel room. To smell the fresh sea air, to watch the kites and seagulls flying in tandem overhead, and to hear the pounding surf. Even though the added exertion on her legs proved painful, it was worth it.
But this morning was different. Iva felt something as she carefully dressed in her white cotton slacks and blue t-shirt. She felt it as she hurried through breakfast and washed and dried the dirty dishes. And she felt it as she crossed the parking lot with the aid of her cane.
Now Iva was standing at the motel desk asking Molly Spencer once more if there were any messages for her and George. With a look of anxiety, Molly handed Iva a crisp white envelope.
Relieved and maybe a little frightened, Iva Bacon took the envelope and pressed it to her trembling lips. A sudden charge of energy surged through her like a static shock. Was it Bernard’s energy coming through?
She quickly thanked Molly and steadying herself, made her way back to cottage number one.
George was waiting for her, sitting pensively in his chair by the window. His features appeared pinched, his shoulders more bent than they’d been in the last few days.
Iva sat in the chair opposite him, and opened the envelope. The handwriting was neat and simple.
George and Iva Bacon,
Thank you for coming to Seaside.
Meet me today at 3 o’clock p.m. in cottage #3.
Your servant,
Bernard Bowersox
She handed George the note. After reading it himself, he dropped it into his lap. With shaky hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt, he gave a slight gasp. His face had turned beet red.
“George, are you all right? Is it your heart?”
He mumbled something she couldn’t understand.
“Just sit there, darling. I’ll get your medicine.” She hastened out of the room and returned moments later with a bottle of nitroglycerin.
“Here. Open your mouth,” Iva pressed the pill beneath his tongue.
She sat there waiting until the normal color of George’s face returned.
“Are you okay?”
George nodded.
Iva thought about the uncertainty of this operation. Of the dangers that awaited them and what the strain might do to him.
“Do you think you can continue with this?” she asked.
“We’ve waited seven years, Iva. Neither one of us can quit now. We have to see this through.”
He slowly got up from his chair. Reaching for her as she stood up to meet him, George took Iva into his arms. “This is for Jill,” he murmured.
A Second Delivery
Michael Matson entered cottage number two. He discovered Ben sitting in the kitchen reading the morning paper. The room smelled of freshly brewed coffee.
“Where’ve you been? I waited breakfast for you,” Ben commented.
“I walked over to the office to see if there was a message from Bernard.”
“You usually don’t go this early.” Ben folded the newspaper. Setting it on the table, he looked at Michael.
“Yeah, well, ... I had this feeling.”
“So? What do you want for breakfast?”
“Waffles. Eggs. I don’t care.” Michael shrugged. Then he remembered something. “Make that killer omelet you made yesterday.”
Ben got up from the table and began to rustle about in the kitchen. Taking the carton of eggs out of the refrigerator, he stopped and turned to Michael.
“What happened at the office? Was there a message for us?”
Michael grinned and pulled an envelope from his pocket. He tossed it on the counter beside Ben.
“You can have the honors. I know how anxious you’ve been.”
Ben stared at Michael. With excitement, he grabbed the envelope and tore it open. He read the short note.
“Today at three o’clock. Cottage number three,” Ben informed Michael. “Damn! It’s about time.”
A Third Delivery
There was something different about today. Halley Bee could feel it the moment she opened her eyes. She knew these things, didn’t she? Lying in bed with Buckley purring beside her, she gave him a big squeeze.
“Today will be a good day,” she told the cat. “Today will be for Emma.”
Visions of Halley’s grandmother, aunt, and sister had been coming to her on a regular basis. But not this morning. Everything about today was different. The air was clear. The sun was shining through her window. The day was filled with promise.
With Buckley right behind her, Halley sprang out of bed, and hurried into the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her face. She dressed in purple jeans and t-shirt and hurried to the kitchen where Mama was ladling pancake batter onto the griddle.
There was something different about Mama, too. She didn’t look sad. For the first time since Emma died, Halley didn’t see any pain in her mother’s eyes.
Her