Chapter Twenty-Two
Callie
Callie wasn’t sure when she’d first realized that she was in trouble.
There had been nothing particularly worrisome about Frank’s manner when she first climbed into the cab of his truck.
He’d been pleasant. And reiterated his apologies for the mix-up with her reservation at the Sand Dollar when she’d first arrived on the island.
And she’d assured him that it was fine. It hadn’t been at the time, of course, but in retrospect, it had probably been the circumstance that had led her and Trey to get together.
She didn’t tell Frank that though. It was none of his business that they were seeing each other now. Besides, it wasn’t like she was his girlfriend or something.
Instead, she dove into the other topic she’d wanted to broach with him.
He was the mayor, after all. If anybody knew who would stand the most to gain from having a reality show filming on the island it would be him.
“I wonder, Mr. Barbier, if you remember a few years back when Khaki was approached by a reality show producer about using her library as the location for a haunted house show.”
Aside from seeing his knuckles on the steering wheel turn white for a few seconds, Callie didn’t notice any reaction from the man.
In fact, she wondered if she’d imagined it.
Maybe he still had some ill ease over it.
Lord knew he wouldn’t be the first small town mayor to worry about the economy of his domain.
“Now, I wonder who told you about that,” he said thoughtfully.
His voice was calm but eerily so. And when she saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, she wondered if she’d made a mistake talking to him about this.
People sometimes got heated when discussing business.
And from what Ruby had said about that time, tempers ran high.
When he glanced over at her, however, Frank smiled. “Don’t look so scared, Callie. I just thought it was surprising someone would be airing the island’s dirty laundry. I’m not sure any of us were at our best back then. Not even your illustrious benefactor, the sainted Khaki Boudreaux.”
She’d been right the first time, Callie realized.
He was angry. Very, very angry from the sound of it.
She’d had a boss once who was like that.
The madder he got, the quieter he became.
She somehow wouldn’t have guessed Frank would be one of that sort.
But then again, she didn’t really know the man all that well.
Her heart raced, and when she glanced out the window, she saw through the pelting rain that he’d just turned in the opposite direction from home.
In her mind, she screamed, realizing she was stuck in a reenactment of every cliché in every thriller she’d ever read. Mild-mannered man who turns out to be a villain? Check. This isn’t the way to my house! Check.
Well, she was one heroine who had no intention of becoming the victim in this little story. She was going to get out of this and get back to Stella and Trey if it was the last thing she did.
She must have been telegraphing her fear because when Frank glanced over at her, he laughed.
“Relax, Callie. I’m not going to hurt you.
And really, I think this will be much easier if I can explain the situation to you.
I sensed from our first meeting that you’re a reasonable woman.
I would have tried this with Trey, but I’ve never gotten the impression that he has any idea what it’s like to work for something. ”
Callie thought of all the work Trey had done bringing the library back to life in the months since he’d begun work on it.
Not only had he kept it true to its origins as a library and maintained the bones of the place, he’d turned the offices downstairs into the kind of high-end suites that blended a beach aesthetic with the kind of sensibility you might expect from a former library.
Trey knew what it was like to work hard.
He’d been working hard for years in the city.
Until his wife and his business partner had pulled the rug out from under him.
But she said none of this to the man across the truck cab from her. He didn’t want to hear about Trey or even Khaki for that matter. He didn’t want to hear. He wanted to be heard.
“You’ve got me right here,” she told Frank with what she hoped was an easy smile. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I knew you’d see reason.” Frank let out a sigh of relief.
“You have no idea how good it is to finally just speak openly to you about this. I would have done it this way from the beginning but Louise was convinced that if I made you all believe that the library was actually haunted, you’d be desperate to have the show there.
But first Khaki’s daughter convinced her to move to Cincinnati, which meant she was too far away to convince—and to be honest I don’t think a gun to the head would have changed that old bat’s mind.
She didn’t understand the potential a reality show had to change the fortunes of everyone on the island.
Especially me. And I thought for sure that when Trey inherited the place, he would at least consider the idea.
After all, his life was in New Orleans and he’d barely been back here for years.
What did he care about that old place? But we didn’t even get a chance to pitch the show to him before Khaki died and we found out she left it to you instead. ”
Callie took all of this in with a sense of the puzzle pieces clicking into place. “So, you’ve been working with Louise on trying to get permission to do a show at the library this whole time?”
“Yeah, Louise and I are partners now,” he said with a nod.
“Louise Goodnight. We started seeing each other not long after she tried to convince Khaki to let her bring the haunted house show to the St. Ignatius library. And I know what you’re going to say, Callie, I’ve thought it myself a hundred times.
Why didn’t we just try a different location on the island for the show?
I mean, I would happily have hosted it at the Sand Dollar.
God, that would have fixed my money troubles for the next few years at least. Believe me, I tried to convince Louise over and over again.
But she heard this ghost story about the priest in the stacks who helps a student studying for finals. ”
“I know this one,” Callie said, excited despite herself to recognize the story. “He makes an A on the exam but when he returns to the library to ask to speak to Father Whatshisname, they tell him he’s been dead for X number of years.”
Frank beamed. “You do know it! Well, Louise’s mother graduated from St. Ignatius and told her the story.
And from then on, she had to have the old library for Haunted Island.
But Khaki refused because of the church, of all things.
She wasn’t even a big churchgoer while she lived here. But she wouldn’t budge.”
This whole time they’d been driving and Callie realized they must be on the other side of the island, which featured a more working-class and industrial area than the beach side. Peering out into the rain, she asked, “Where are we?”
“I’ve got a couple of warehouses over here. We’re going to talk here for a while until I can get you on the same page as me.” As he talked, Frank put the truck into park and reached behind the seat to pull out an umbrella. “Just a sec and I’ll get you inside.”
Callie stared at him in disbelief. He laughed when he saw her expression. “You didn’t think I’d let you get all wet after I gave you a ride to avoid the rain, did you?”
She was about to put her backpack on when he opened the door on her side and made a tsking sound. “Better take that off, Miss Callie. You might have a weapon in there.”
Reluctantly, she let the straps slide down her arms and kissed goodbye to the idea of using the pepper spray she always carried.
As she allowed Frank to lead her into the large storage room, she took note of the old furniture pieces, stained mattresses, and various other odds and ends that must have once served the needs of the Sand Dollar Motel.
When they finally reached a sort of alcove that was tucked away behind a wall of old bookcases, she saw with a sinking feeling that another woman was already there—seated on a dining chair just like the ones she’d seen that day at the Sand Dollar.
Well, the woman was seated, but more importantly, she was also bound to the chair with blue rope.
And what put the final nail in Callie’s coffin of hope was the fact that this woman, a pretty brunette, was also gagged.
Her eyes were wild as she watched them progress across the room.
“You see, honey,” Frank said to the woman. “I told you I’d be back. And I brought you some company.”
“Callie,” Frank said with all the good manners of a courtly gentleman performing introductions at a society function, “I believe you’ve met my fiancée, Louise Goodnight. Louise, you remember Callie, don’t you?”