Chapter 7 #2
“I’m not surprised. That old thing was already starting to give way when I was in high school,” she said. “And you’d have to replace it when you install a new window anyway, right?”
“Right, but what I wanted to tell you was that when it came off, I could look down into the wall. See, there’s a…
a sort of hollow pocket beneath the window, right between the stud and the plywood.
It would be a lot easier to show you in person, but my point is, I found something inside that space. ”
“A sac of spider eggs?” guessed Caitlin with a shudder.
“No, no, nothing like that,” laughed Shane. “It’s a small plastic pouch. Or maybe you’d call it a bag.”
“Like what you’d discard trash in?”
“No, it has a zipper on it. Reminds me of something a kid would use for storing pencils. Or for bringing a sandwich to school.”
“Oh, gross—that’s not what you found inside, was it?” asked Caitlin, aware it had been well over a month since the last guests had stayed at the cottage. If someone had hidden food in the loft, it would be rotten by now.
“I didn’t open it. I figured it belongs to you, so it’s none of my business. But it didn’t smell, so I doubt it contains food.” Shane lowered his voice. “I left it on the floor near the entrance to the windmill, and then I made sure to lock the door, just in case it’s valuable.”
Caitlin figured it was more likely something inconsequential that a child had left behind, although she was surprised the guests had access to the windmill. Maybe the housekeeping crew had forgotten to lock the door?
“Okay, I’ll grab it before I go inside the house. Thanks for letting me know about it.”
After arranging to meet the following morning at 10:00 to discuss the estimate for the materials, they said goodbye.
Curious to find out what Shane had found stuffed in the wall, Caitlin hurried up the driveway and retrieved the faded blue bag from the windmill.
About the size of a paperback book, it was softer and lighter than she’d expected.
It was cleaner, too—Shane must have dusted it off for her. That was nice of him.
She carried the pouch into the sunroom to examine its contents. To her frustration, the zipper was rusted shut, but after several minutes of fiddling, she finally got it open. “Ta-da!” Caitlin gleefully exclaimed, feeling pleased with herself.
But when she peeked inside the bag and recognized the familiar snakeskin print material, her vision blurred with tears. Even though the fabric was balled into a compact wad, Caitlin realized it could only be one thing: Nicole’s string bikini, the one her mother wouldn’t let her wear.
Caitlin knew the teenager had hidden other wardrobe items and makeup behind the stacks of paper products in the loft, but she hadn’t been aware that Nicole had stashed anything in a bag in the wall.
She must have really been concerned about getting in trouble if her mom found out she was wearing the bikini, so she had to find a better hiding place in case Aunt Lydia stumbled upon it while she was restocking paper supplies , she reasoned.
The location had been a smart choice. If it weren’t for the remodel, the swimsuit might have remained hidden indefinitely—or at least until the windows needed to be replaced.
Seems like every time I start to feel a little calmer about being on Dune Island, I get hit with another reminder of what happened the last time I was here , Caitlin thought mournfully, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
As she gingerly lifted the skimpy material from the bag, a square of folded paper dropped onto the table.
She began to unfold it and saw the words, Pirate’s ARR-Cade across the top of the page, along with a cartoon image of a parrot wearing a tricorn hat.
Caitlin instantly recognized that she was holding a paper placemat from a popular arcade on the boardwalk.
She continued to unfold it, and a smaller, rectangular piece of thick paper fluttered to the floor.
Reaching for it, Caitlin noticed it wasn’t a piece of paper after all; it was a strip of snapshots, the old-fashioned kind that were dispensed from a photo booth like the one at the arcade.
There were four photos in all, and Nicole was pictured front and center in each of them.
Dressed in the same snakeskin print bikini that Caitlin had just pulled from the bag, the teen was wearing bright red lipstick and heavy eye makeup.
Three other people were squeezed into the booth with her: a brunette girl in a blue tank top and sunglasses, and two guys dressed in orange lifeguard T-shirts.
The guy to Nicole’s right was blond-haired and broad-chested.
To her left was a slimmer, very tanned, dark-haired boy.
Standing on the other side of him, the brunette girl was partially edged out of the frame.
The teenagers were all making silly faces and gestures in the first snapshot.
In the second, they were smiling naturally at the camera.
The third photo showed Nicole had swiveled sideways to kiss the cheek of the grinning blond boy.
In the final picture, she was turned toward the dark-haired guy, her puckered lips near his ear, her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
Typical Nicole behavior , Caitlin thought, amused.
Strangely, seeing her face again wasn’t nearly as disturbing as accidentally coming across her swimsuit.
Maybe that was because Nicole looked so happy in the photos.
Or maybe it was that Caitlin’s sadness was overshadowed by her curiosity about the other teenagers.
She couldn’t stop staring at the snapshots and wondering who they were.
Nicole probably met up with them at the beach near the arcade—maybe that’s why she never wanted me to come with her when she took a walk?
I wonder if the four of them were sort of on a double date.
Although if that was the case, Caitlin imagined the brunette girl would’ve been annoyed that Nicole had kissed both boys in the photos.
Maybe she was only mugging it up for the camera?
Caitlin surmised. Or else she was acting out one of her “scenes,” or playing a game to see which boy would give her the most attention?
Or maybe Nicole and the other girl had picked out two cute, random guys at the arcade and they were just flirting with them for fun?
But Caitlin sensed there was more going on between them than that—otherwise, why would Nicole have kept the strip of photos hidden in the wall?
She turned it over, looking for a clue, but the other side was blank.
Caitlin glanced at the paper placemat. Inscribed with a maze leading from the parrot on the top of the page to a treasure chest on the bottom, it was designed to keep children occupied while waiting for their food to arrive at their tables.
There were no markings on the front of the placement, and only a reddish-pink stain on the back.
Nicole must have blotted her lipstick on this , Caitlin guessed. But as she started to turn the paper to the front again, she noticed that there was faded writing beneath the pink smudge.
She squinted at the barely legible print and read, “N R”. Beneath the initials was a drawing of three cubes in a row. The middle one had a large X on it. Above the cubes was a series of straight lines; below the cubes were several squiggles.
N obviously stands for Nicole, and R must be the first initial of one of the guys in the photos , Caitlin deduced.
It surprised her that Nicole, who’d always acted as if she were more sophisticated than her peers, had scribbled such a cutesy note on the placemat —and then, apparently, she’d kissed it.
Was she being serious or was it some kind of ploy, part of an act?
And what about the drawing? Was the picture a random doodle, or was it supposed to depict something specific?
Caitlin got up and turned on a lamp. Holding the placemat an inch above the bulb, she scrutinized the sketch. Only then did she see there was a fainter inscription below the squiggly lines. “Thurs Aug 29,” it read.
A chill turned her skin to gooseflesh and she dropped onto the sofa. Thursday, August 29, was the day Nicole drowned. So why was that date written on the placemat? Was it the date she’d taken the photos?
No, that can’t be right. The arcade and all the other shops on the boardwalk were still closed because the tropical storm knocked out their electricity and it hadn’t been restored yet , she remembered. Maybe Thursday, August 29, was just the day Nicole was doodling on the placemat?
Caitlin shook herself. There was no use wondering any further. Focusing on the past only made her miserable, and even if she figured out the significance of the scribblings, it wouldn’t change what had happened.
Not that I’m blaming Shane, but I wish he hadn’t given me this bag—or that he’d never found it in the first place. Caitlin was already plagued by enough guilt and sad memories about that summer, without receiving tangible reminders of Nicole’s youth. Of her death day.
She quickly refolded the placemat and the bikini and tucked them back into the plastic pouch, along with the photo strip. She had no reason to keep Nicole’s belongings, but it didn’t seem right to discard them, either.
I’ll decide what to do with these things some other time , she thought, and buried the bag beneath her clothes in her bottom dresser drawer, where it at least would be out of sight, even if it wasn’t completely out of mind.