Ghost Point - Chapter 2

Chapter Two

         A week later, Dana Kaster slammed down the receiver and stared at her co-worker. “Damn him. He knows how bad our Historical Society wants inside that lighthouse. All I want is to look around. The view out over the ocean from the tower has got to be breathtaking at sunset!”

         Sarah glanced up from her work and raised an eyebrow. “Has old man Wyndham given you the brush off again?”

         Dana thought back on the numerous times she’d called Mr. Wyndham, only to be put off when she’d reached his secretary. “I’m not giving up. This has been going on for months. It took too long to find out who actually inherited the place and now he won’t even take my calls.” Devilish thoughts made Dana smile. “Perhaps if I leave a message that someone is going out to the point to look around, that just might get his attention. I know he doesn’t want us out there.”

         Dana tried to ignore what happened last week when she’d gone out alone. She didn’t dare tell Sarah about the strange encounter that day; she couldn’t tell a soul about that. Sarah knew she had special abilities but Dana didn’t talk about it much. She and Sarah were getting closer and their friendship over the past year had brought them closer.

         Sarah stared straight into Dana’s eyes for a few moments as if trying to read her mind then suddenly pointed her pen at Dana. “Just make sure you let someone know before you make your visit. I’m tired of getting your ass out of jams because you like snooping around. One day, my help won’t be enough. And don’t those eerie ghost stories bother you? I can feel their presence and I’ve never been out there.”

         A tremor of fear shivered down Dana’s back, but she dared not let Sarah know. “Of course not, they’re just rumors, but can you imagine the publicity it’ll create once we finally get it restored?”

         Just then the front door rattled open and little Mrs. Emma Hastings shuffled in with the help of her wooden cane as she pulled her ‘granny shopping cart’ behind her. Dana laughed to herself. She had liked Emma right from the start when the little old woman hired her. Emma’s caring attitude stole Dana’s heart and they shared their love for restoration of lighthouses. Although Mrs. Hastings could no longer do what she loved, she allowed Dana free rein to finish the projects. Mrs. Hastings could be considered the neighborhood grandmother to everyone; they all loved her too. One never saw Emma with a hair out of place; she wore her blue gray coiffure up in a French twist most of the time and Dana doubted she ever left home without her lipstick on.

         Dana hurried over to close the door for her, amazed the woman hadn’t retired years ago. Emma’s husband had passed on five years before and since she lived alone, she was needed at the office more than she was needed at home. So at least three or four days a week, Emma took the bus to the office on Front Street and made herself useful in whatever task was at hand.

         Emma took her handbag from where it hung inside the cart and pushed the cart toward Dana. “There’s a pineapple upside down cake in the cart if you would be a sweetheart and cut each of us a piece.”

         “Emma, we are going to end up chubbets if you keep bringing goodies in here for us. You know that, but how sweet of you to struggle with your cart just to bring us a cake.” Dana hurried to the lunchroom and cut the cake. She poured Emma coffee in her china cup and took it to her desk. The three of them had a desk behind the long reception counter.

         “We were just discussing ghosts at the lighthouses. You know how we like to go on about that.”

         Emma sat down and hung her cane on the edge of her desk for quick use if need be. Her thin, gnarled fingers reached for her cup and she savored the first sip. “Now we need a piece of cake while we discuss these ghost issues! Be a sweetie and bring us each a piece, Dana dear.”

         Sarah had brought Dana a cup of coffee as well as hers then sat down while Dana went to bring in the cake. “So Miss Emma, do you think there are ghosts in that old abandoned lighthouse?”

         “With all the ships that have gone down in the waters around the lighthouse, yes, I do think there are such things as spirits that hang around and some have strange powers that we don’t yet understand yet.”

         Dana brought each of them a piece and sat her own desk. As she tasted the cake, she thought about the tower ghost again. From her home across the bay, more times than she cared to count, she’d watched a light flicker in the vacant lighthouse tower on the small peninsula. Could it be actual ghosts there? Was the spirit world trying to get her attention and her help? She would need to pay more attention to her dreams. Her mind wandered over several ideas for advertising, while at the same time she wondered if Mr. Wyndham would ever give his permission.

         Was he too old to care whether others found interest in the lighthouses of the area or was he too young to care? She wondered if some sort of tragedy may have happened and that’s why it remained abandoned. Perhaps if he were old, she could convince him to donate the property. Or better yet, let her buy it!

         Excitement sparked renewed vigor as she enjoyed her cake. “Miss Emma, this is wonderful as always. Sarah, do we know anything at all about this Drake Wyndham?”

         She tipped her blonde head as she licked off her fork. “Such as?”

         Dana leaned back in her swivel chair and tapped the end of her pen on the desk. “Like his family background – is he rich enough to donate the property? Or too old, perhaps, to care what even happens to the place? And if he’s young, he likely won’t care either. I wonder if he has an interest in the city’s history...or maybe even in the original caretakers.”

         Most interesting of all to Dana was her historical research on the lives of those who’d guided ships through stormy nights or who’d ventured out to save a ship and crew that had drifted too close inland. If this Mr. Wyndham would ever return her calls, she might be able to start work on the caretakers of this lighthouse. For some unknown reason, the history pulled strongly at her to find answers about this place.

         Deep in thought, she glanced at Sarah, and met her accusing gaze. Sarah’s brown eyes betrayed her knowledge of the spirit world and Dana knew that was why their friendship had grown, but did Sarah have a sense of who this ghost at the lighthouse might be?

         Emma pointed her fork at Dana. “I see your mind conjuring up something, missy, and knowing you, its trouble.”          

         Dana tilted her head and raised her brows as she smiled. “Whaaat?”

         Sarah’s mouth opened and her eyes rounded as she tipped her head. “Ha! Your eyes always light up like that when you’re about to do something Emma won’t like.” Sarah set her empty cake plate in the trash.

         “If I send Drake Wyndham information on the previous caretakers…that just may spark a phone call. And what if those I research end up being his distant relatives? Since he inherited the place, they probably are related.” An idea sparked and she squinted. “I’ve got to run down to the library this afternoon and see if I can find anything, but first...” Dana straightened up and started rummaging for her keys.

         Sarah laughed. “Uh oh, I sense trouble brewing.”

         Dana grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “I’m just going to the library.” She gave her friend a smile.

         Sarah held up a hand. “Never mind, I don’t even want to hear it. I know you too well. And don’t forget about tomorrow’s open house down at Seagull Point Museum.”

         Dana heard Sarah talking as the door closed behind her. Tomorrow’s open house at the newly refurbished lighthouse north of Southport filled her mind and she welcomed the preoccupation. She thought about Point Betsie in Michigan; she’d love to have a private residence in a lighthouse and be surrounded by such history.

         The collection of past history on each lighthouse completed her part of the agency’s contribution. Now she’d concentrate on collecting the same information for this new lighthouse even though the society hadn’t received the proper approval yet. In a way, she’d already received approval from the man she’d encountered there, or was he a ghost?



         By mid-afternoon the next day, Dana burst into the office with an armload of books. She dropped her purse and keys, then carefully piled the books on a corner of her desk.

         Sarah stared at her. “I take it you’ve come across some interesting facts.”

         Dana sat down to catch her breath, excitement making it hard. “I found info on several shipwrecks near the tower, some going back more than 200 years ago. I even found the names of past keepers. I was hoping the names would be Wyndham but they’re not. Researching a family tree is really time consuming but my curiosity is piqued.”

         Mrs. Hastings smiled. “I know…you just have to know all the answers. You’ll never change. At least it’ll be information we can pass on to the interested donors. They love the research you do.”

         ”It gives me a sense of accomplishment. Especially this one, yet this one is different. I can sense it. There is something drawing me to that tower. I’ve always had an interest...no, a need...ever since I was young, to learn more about people and their past. Now I have reason to dig.” Dana fished in her purse for change, and then hurried to the lunchroom for a cola.

         She took a long gulp and sat back at her desk. “I’m hoping some of this material will give me names and dates of some of the sea captains and their background. Old man Wyndham might even thank me,” Dana said with a smile, then thought back on the man she encountered at the lighthouse and her stomach swirled with butterflies. There had definitely been a silent attraction between the two of them; his exotic dark eyes were burned in her memory.

         Sarah shook her head. “I sense trouble between you and Drake Wyndham. I wish you’d be careful.”

         “Didn’t you get into this business for the same reason – to find out about the unknown histories?”

         “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sarah stated with a smile. “Keep me updated.”

         “Speaking of old man Wyndham, have you ever met him? I’m sorry Emma, I just don’t think of you as being old like Mr. Wyndham. No pun intended,” Dana added, sorry she might have offended the older woman.

         “Heard he’s the man who owns the property and won’t part with it. No one’s been able to get him to budge because he doesn’t answer calls.”

         Dana laid out her pad and pen, and then opened the top book to continue her research as she wondered what kind of stories some of the old tavern patrons might have to share.

* * * * *

         After a week in Los Angeles, Drake Mitchell Wyndham sat at his desk in his home office in Southport, North Carolina sorting through several messages his secretary, Heather, had left. Someone at the Lower Cape Fear Historical Society obviously was not a timid church mouse, then again, maybe as old as a church mouse. Eight of the fifteen messages were from the Society, yet he kept putting them off. He wasn’t ready to deal with the Historical Society regarding the lighthouse he’d inherited years ago and had done nothing with since then.

         He leaned back in his leather chair, leaning on one elbow and resting his chin on his fingers. He thought about the damn tower more than he should since he’d inherited the place when his grandfather passed four years ago. Then he leaned forward to rummage through his side file drawer until he found the folder. Opening the file, his grandfather’s signed will lay on top. The will had left him two letters along with the deed to the lighthouse signed by the Coast Guard and the Government, granting him ownership, something unheard of in North Carolina. He knew how rare this type of deed was.

         Mitch picked up the letters, one from his grandfather stating that he should carefully consider checking into the background of the past keepers to connect with his future and the other appeared older than he cared to estimate. His grandfather stated that the letter had been given to him and he should pass it down, so he had.

         Mitch carefully opened the weathered letter, postmarked in England well over two hundred years ago which had been written by a woman named Vanessa, to her lover. Her beautiful cursive filled the page. She had included a picture of herself, which fell from the papers. Though the age of the picture matched the postmark on the envelope, her delicate features were still evident…she had been a beautiful woman.

         Mitch thought she or her lover might have something to do with the lighthouse. He studied the woman’s eyes as a familiarity seeped into his senses. His thumb lightly caressed the old photograph as though he were actually touching her face. He’d seen that sincere look before, albeit only for a second when he came across the woman trespassing at his lighthouse. But how could the two look so much alike? He stared at the photo, as though answers would somehow be given to him. Unable to make sense of the resemblance, he placed the picture inside and folded up the letter, kept it with the will and deed and closed the file.

         What the hell did his grandfather mean…connect with his future? All that garbage of the past rewriting itself was for the birds...or the Cape Fear Historical Society. Then curiosity got the better of him. Mitch pulled out the woman’s letter one more time to look at the picture again. Though the picture was old, he could tell her eyes were light, possibly blue or green, and her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders, so unlike other female pictures of that time period. He thought about her, what she might have been like and the relationship she had with the man in the letter.

         Rubbing his thumb over her face and hair, he wondered if they had been married or just lovers. Visions of frigates at sea and docked at a wharf came to mind. Was there more than he knew to his craving for sailing? Did all this have something to do with what he thought he’d seen so long ago at the lighthouse? He would rather not rehash that day or others would think was nuts. Then he reread the note and knew he needed to hold off on any immediate decisions of selling the place, though he still couldn’t fathom what this could possibly have to do with his own life. What did his grandfather know that he never informed him of?

         Mitch couldn’t explain why he felt a tug toward being at the lighthouse but it came to him more than he cared to face. There was something out there. The eerie sense of foreboding that came over him when he’d snuck into the keeper’s house all those years ago had kept him from going back inside and who he thought he saw couldn’t possibly have been there on the stairs leading up to the tower! He chose to ignore whoever it was and not go back inside.

         The woman at the lighthouse a few weeks ago came to mind. Mitch looked closer at the picture. He nearly stopped breathing. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the picture was one of those old fashioned photos some take nowadays. The eyes were so like the woman he’d caught trespassing, but that likelihood was impossible. This picture was over a century old!

         He carefully put the picture and the letter back in the envelope as visions of ships at sea floated through his mind, confusing him even more about getting rid of the lighthouse. Then again, perhaps he should sell it off. It would be no different than any of the other corporations he bought and sold for profit. Yet, this property seemed different. For some reason, he was drawn to it and damned if he knew why; he hadn’t been out there since he was a teenager and those were memories he didn’t want to stir up.

         Damn his grandfather, too.

         Mitch shook off the familiar eerie foreboding and answered his assistant’s page.

         “Ahh...Heather said the Historical Society has left another message. I had her tell them you were out...again. I wish you’d at least talk to the poor woman. You know she won’t give up. You need to deal with this. Comprende?”

         He shook his head and laughed to himself. “Thank you, Maria. I’ll give it some thought. Please tell Heather she does a great job.” He knew Maria wouldn’t give up either. She was a feisty little Spanish woman from San Antonio, short, tiny and full of fight, but she was the best assistant he’d ever employed and she didn’t betray his wish for privacy to those who wanted to get to him merely for monetary donations.



         On top of a client file laid the newspaper ad about next week’s Historical Society open house of their newest renovation. He tossed it on top of another pile of client files. Maria consistently placed those ads where he was sure to find them, but he’d kept making excuses not to attend. His anonymous monthly cash donation arrived at the Historical Society, thanks again to Maria, who attended the open houses and made sure the money got into the right hands.

         Even though he didn’t want to part with his own lighthouse yet, he enjoyed the restoration of the others and helped where he could. Not realizing it until now, what he did wish for was time to consider restoring the old lighthouse for his own benefit and personal use, a place he could go to and relax. Getting remarried was not in his near future either, thanks to a messy divorce five years ago. Good thing he’d made his fortune after his divorce or she’d have thought to ask for that, too. Though they’d only been married for five years after college graduation, he’d agreed to give her more than he should have just to be rid of her. Again, he thanked his lucky stars that they’d not had children.

* * * * *

         At the open house, Sarah leaned toward Dana as she placed more cookies near the punch bowl. “I just knew we’d have a crowd with this one. The town has expressed several times that they’re grateful for this restoration.”

         “At the chamber meeting the other day, the mayor told me our work here will be a positive note to the tourism now that it’s complete.” Dana smiled at two women who had helped with the new landscaping. They’d done an excellent job.

         Sarah headed for the door. “I’m going to chat with a few of the guests outside and see if I can answer any questions for them and maybe round up some more volunteers for the cause.”

         Dana saw Maria talking with Mrs. Hastings and headed in their direction. The woman seemed to make it a point to visit each time they had a new open house. “Maria, it’s always so good to see you but I wish you’d bring that anonymous friend of yours around so we could thank them properly for all the financial support they give to the Historical Society.”

         Maria handed her the envelope of cash she always seemed to arrive with. “Here is another donation for a new project. This person is so busy with their own work that I enjoy making the rounds to these open houses to see the finished restoration. Your volunteers do such a wonderful job. If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Hastings is going to show me the rest of the keeper’s house.”

         Dana talked with other guests who milled about, asking questions, admiring the restoration and reading about the history of Seagull Point. Many were taking the tour of the tower, at least those able to climb the 200 steps to the top, of which she remembered making all too often during the repairs.

         Half an hour later, as Dana watched the gorgeous sunset across the bay at the property’s edge, she immediately noticed a man outside. As he roamed the perimeter of the new flowerbed, she thought he looked like the man at the abandoned lighthouse. He moved toward Sarah and began a conversation, so Dana stepped back from the window, not wanting to be seen. This man moved with an air of authority that she remembered seeing the day she encountered him at the lighthouse.

         Today, she could observe him without his gaze searching her very soul. Something was different about him; she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Definitely handsome in appearance and from her vantage point at the window, she could see those dark eyes of his. Dana liked the way he raked his fingers through his collar length hair every once in a while to move it out of his eyes; she wondered what type of job he had that allowed for being able to wear his hair that length. He was possibly a few years older than she, and he was alone. Sarah appeared to be quite interested in the conversation and had pointed back to the house a few times. The two laughed and seemed to be enjoying their conversation. Then he happened to look up in her direction and she quickly stepped away from the window. Had he seen her? She hoped not; she’d have to make sure Sarah gave her a full report later but she couldn’t let Sarah know she’d already met him, sort of.

         When Dana turned back into the room, the last of the guests meandered out the door. As she picked up a few empty cups and napkins, she glanced around with pride at all the hard work that had been so lovingly completed by others who shared the same enthusiasm she had. Wood trim had been restored and new paint covered the walls, curtains had been replaced as close to the originals as possible but it still had that old smell to it that came with restoring the buildings. The worked had turned out beautiful.

         Dana closed the guest book, switched off the last of the lights, and then locked the door. As she turned toward the yard, Sarah came around the corner.

         “Another successful lighthouse renovation; I’m famished, how about some late supper? I’ve got some things to talk to you about, too.”

         Dana hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so she agreed. “I’ll follow you to the Pilot House. We can eat out on wharf and watch the sun set!”



         The café sat just off Front Street, on the banks of the Cape Fear River, and seemed to always be crowded this time of year. Once seated at an umbrella table on the wharf overlooking the river, Dana couldn’t wait to find out whom the stranger was that talked with Sarah. Settling herself in her chair, she stashed her purse, then ordered Pinot Grigio and some grilled shrimp. She surveyed her surroundings. The sun wouldn’t set for another hour at least. She loved being down by the water. Two boats motored by with people on board who were laughing and also enjoying the warm afternoon sun.

         “Maria brought us another financial donation while you were outside. I sure wish this anonymous person would make an appearance once in a while so we could thank them. And if we could talk old man Wyndham into donating that lighthouse of his, our job could be underway. I’d love to get a project started on that place!”

         “Well it so happens…I spoke with a gentleman tonight who asked if I knew whether the person in charge of our restoration projects would be interested in taking on a personal restoration of a local lighthouse.”

         Dana’s eagerness nearly made her dance on the table and she stared at Sarah. She would give her eyeteeth to be in charge of a personal restoration, if in fact the lighthouse couldn’t be her own. “Why didn’t you come in and get me? I would have loved to talk with him. I saw you talking with a man earlier. Is he the one?”

         Sarah watched her and smiled. “Well, yes and no. He wasn’t the owner but was helping the owner find someone to do a restore maybe. I knew you would love to hear this, for as long as you’ve dreamed of having your own lighthouse. You might get the chance to actually take one on. Even though it would belong to someone else, you’d still jump at the opportunity?”

         “You know I would! Now give it up. What does he want? Is it his lighthouse? Where is it? Is he calling back? When does he want to start?”

         Sarah nearly spilled her wine laughing. “I love your excitement. Now calm down.” She sipped her wine as mischief danced in her eyes. “He didn’t say where the project was but said he wasn’t the owner. He told the owner he would see what he could find out about getting someone to look at the place. They know there’s a lot of work to be done, the lighthouse hasn’t been touched in years, but they want it restored…which brings us to the money issue.”

         “Well, if money is the issue, we could do a fund raiser but since it’s private property, we could possible help them.”

         Sarah grabbed her wrist. “Money isn’t the issue.”

         Dana scrunched her nose and tipped her head at Sarah. “Then I don’t understand the issue.”

         “That’s just it…there IS no issue, money or otherwise!”

         Dana stared at Sarah, her mind swirling. “Oh my gosh…an unlimited source of money? Do you know how gorgeous it could turn out when money isn’t a problem?” Dana couldn’t contain her joy. She stared out across the river at the USS North Carolina as her mind sorted through ideas and excitement. “We’ll have to make sure the structure is sound, check to see what has to be fixed, get it rewired and...I can’t believe I might get to do this!”

         Dana couldn’t quit smiling; not a pebble of thought lay unturned in her mind. This is what she’d dreamed of. How did she get so lucky? Of course, she would rather own the property she was going to put so much effort into, but that wasn’t a possibility right now. At least she could enjoy restoring the place. Ideas came into her head like a movie screen, and then she looked up at Sarah. “What’s the catch? There has to be one.”

         Sarah laughed. “There’s no catch. I told him I would talk with someone I knew who did good restoration work and he’s going to call back tomorrow. He said if this person were interested, he’d like to meet with them and go over some details first before getting started. Would you be open to that? I didn’t tell him a thing about you, not being sure you’d want to take this on or not.”

         “Of course I would be!” Dana’s thoughts buzzed one idea after another; color swatches and paint chips flew through her mind. There was only one abandoned lighthouse in the area; it had to be the same one. She also envisioned the man she’d seen out there and if he’d visit again if she were there. Was he the grounds keeper? The place was too run down to have a grounds keeper and his demeanor didn’t portray anything close to him being a grounds keeper; he had a no nonsense type of air about him. Sarah knew nothing about the incident and if she’d sensed it, she said nothing about it. Dana thought it better to leave it that way.

         The food came and Dana breathed in the aroma of spicy grilled shrimp. She nibbled at the succulent seafood and discussed with Sarah several possibilities for restoring and painting, refinishing and wallpapering. “I really should just take the leap and open my own decorating/restoration company. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do and this would give me the chance to make a great start. I think it better not to let him know I’m with the Historical Society, at least for right now.” Dana sipped her wine, toying with several ideas. The warm night air lent to the excitement and a new world of exploration for her.

         Sarah licked the grilled spices from her fingers. “He seemed like a very nice person, genuine…and I sensed something mysterious about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it but as we talked, I got pictures of a past about him. Like way in the past, pictures in my mind of old English ships.” She shook her head and took a sip of wine.

         “…your psychic abilities coming to the surface again?”

         “I’m not sure; I just sensed something different about him. Not bad different…mysterious different. But anyway, I think you should open your business; you have an eye for decorating. You could even hire me as contract labor if you need extra help.” Sarah dipped a shrimp into the tangy sauce and bit into another tender morsel. “You’d be able to finally do what you’ve wanted. That’s something you haven’t done since your divorce. It’s time you spent some of that money you’ve been saving and opened your business. What better way to get started than with a client who tells you money is no object! Tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon, you know.”

         Dana finished her bite of shrimp and sipped her wine, watching the tourists walk along the wharf and out to the pier. She could hardly contain her excitement. “Just thinking of finally owning my own business is scary. There’d be no guaranteed income like I have now, but I’d finally be free to do as I please. Then I could get the Historical Society to contract through me for the restorations. What a great idea!”

         Holding up her glass for a toast, Sarah beamed with agreement. “And that office next door is still for lease. You need to check into renting it.”

         Dana took a long sip of her wine and thought about it. “I’ll make some calls tomorrow about renting that space and getting a business license. I can go online and do the LLC license. You’ve talked me right into it. I doubt I’ll sleep at all tonight! Do you realize how exciting this is for me? I’ve wanted this for so long and finally here it is. I can do this! Then I can tell my mom that college wasn’t wasted after all!”

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