Cottage on Gooseberry Bay: A Summer Thing by Kathi Daley

Author:Kathi Daley [Daley, Kathi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathi Daley Books
Published: 2021-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Joan Cartwright’s house wasn’t as cute and colorful as Ann’s had been, but it was a nice house in a nice neighborhood. As Ann had, Joan invited me in and offered me a beverage. I declined the beverage but took a seat at the kitchen table where she’d indicated I should. I got right to the point and explained who I was, who my client was, and what sort of information I was after. Based on her body language as I spoke, I could sense that she knew something. Something more than the others had.

I finally paused and asked, “You know something, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

I smiled. “Great. Why don’t you share what you know, and then we’ll take it from there.”

“You said that it was Bexley’s daughter who hired you to find her father.”

I nodded. “Yes. That’s correct.”

“And was this daughter born in May of nineteen seventy-seven?”

I nodded again as I watched her count down the months on her fingers.

“I know this might be awkward for you to talk about. So far, all the theories which have been generated are less than fairytale explanations of Kinsley’s conception, but she knows that the story might not be pretty and wants to know anyway.”

“Okay. I guess I can understand that.” She paused. “I didn’t really know Bexley. In fact, our entire acquaintance can be boiled down to just a few hours.”

“But something happened during those few hours,” I persuaded.

She nodded. “It started off innocently enough. I was twenty-five in nineteen seventy-six, so I was about five years older than Bexley. I’d gone to a party at a house down by the bay, and things had gotten pretty wild. There was a lot of alcohol being passed around that night, and I’m afraid I got really drunk. So drunk, in fact, that I passed out on the sofa in the den. When I woke the following morning, it was just getting light. Pretty much everyone else had either left or were sleeping it off. I had to work later that morning, so I began gathering my things and was preparing to leave when I noticed this raggedy-looking young girl stumbling her way down the stairs. Her hair was a mess, her feet were bare, and she looked totally lost. When I asked her if I could help her, she just looked so confused. After a minute, I was able to determine that the girl had no idea where she was. I explained that there had been a party at the house the previous night and that she’d probably had one too many drinks and had passed out. I volunteered to take her home, and she gratefully accepted. As we were driving back toward town, she began to cry. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that she was beginning to remember at least small parts of what had occurred.”

“And?” I asked.

“I could see that the kid was really messed up. She looked so young. No more than a teenager, although I later learned that she was twenty.

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