Driftwood Point by Mariah Stewart Read Free Book Online Page B

writing about you. I heard there’s going to be a special showing at the new art center.” He set the sander on a nearby cinder block. “What kind of paintings do you do, anyway?”
    â€œLandscapes, mostly. Cityscapes.”
    â€œCityscapes, eh? Tall buildings, bustling traffic, that sort of thing?”
    â€œSome. There’s nature in the city, parks, too.” He was making Lis feel defensive, but she wasn’t sure why. “Lots of trees, some ponds.”
    â€œTrees and ponds.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So you left the island and went all the way to New York looking for natural subjects to paint, and you found trees and ponds . There’s a certain irony in that, don’t you think?”
    Before she could respond, he turned his back, flipped the switch on the sander, and went back to work.

Chapter Three

    A lec finished sanding the board that he would eventually replace on the hull of the skipjack. He’d been working on the boat since early spring, since the morning Ruby Carter had agreed to hand it over in return for the time he would spend renovating the old general store and building new living quarters for her on the first floor. The only money that had changed hands since then went to materials. He had paid the plumber, the electrician, and the occasional helper he’d had to hire from his own pocket. When it was all added up, Alec figured Ruby was still ahead of the game in dollars, but he’d come to own the boat he’d been dreaming about since he was a kid, so in terms of overall satisfaction—as happy as she was with her new living space—he figured he was the clear winner.
    Alec stood back to admire the Annie G . Even now, with her partially rotten hull and holes in the bow, to Alec, she was beautiful. He knew that part of her allure was due to the legend that surrounded her, thatof the mysterious disappearance of her namesake, Anne Gregory. He’d heard the story over and over as a child, every time old Eben Carter had come into Ellison’s to shoot the breeze with Alec’s uncle Cliff and the two bachelors—the old one and his younger counterpart—would share a brandy or two. Alec would sit quietly at Cliff’s desk doing homework or reading comic books, all the while listening to the tales the older men would tell. By the time he was twelve, Alec knew all the stories by heart, but that never stopped him from hanging on every word.
    â€œClifford, she was the prettiest girl on Cannonball Island.” Eb would sit on one of the old metal folding chairs Cliff kept in the shop, and he’d prop his feet up on whatever was handy—a toolbox, some concrete blocks, a tall stack of newspapers Cliff kept in the shop to wipe off paintbrushes. “Loved that girl the first time I laid eyes on her, back when we were just kids. Even then, I knew she was the only girl for me. Yessir, it was love at first sight. Couldn’t believe my good luck, that she loved me, too.”
    â€œNo explaining love, Eb. No rhyme or reason to it, best I can see.” Cliff would lean against whatever boat he was working on that day and light one of the cigarettes that would, in time, take his life.
    â€œYep. She was a beauty.” Eb’s eyes would glaze over. “Worst day of my life, the day she disappeared. Searched for her every which way, but it was like she just went poof ! And she was gone like she was never even here.”
    Once Alec asked his uncle what Eb was talking about, what had happened to Annie.
    â€œNobody knows, Alec. That’s the tragedy of it.” Cliff’s eyes had shifted to the photograph of Eb and his boat that hung on the wall. He’d taken it just before the skipjack races the previous spring. “Young woman vanishes into thin air like that, it’s just not right. No one who knew her will ever know peace. For sure, old Eb won’t.”
    â€œWho was she?” Alec