The Keeper of the Light

Chapter 6

Charlie woke up just in time to run out the door and turn off the lighthouse beacon. As she climbed the flights of stairs she kept hearing that voice begging for help. She knew it was a dream but it was so real. The woman was wearing a flowing white dress, her hair blowing in the wind. Until she fell, it would have been something from the cover of a cheesy romance novel. Charlie shook the images from her head as she entered the top of the lighthouse.

On her way back down she thought about dinner last night and the kiss Dillon had given her. She had never felt like that with Eric. She loved Eric but the spark she felt when Dillon's lips touched hers was, well, a pretty big spark. Still, she felt like she was betraying Eric's memory by kissing another man. Especially since she liked it so much. She missed her Momma. She could have talked to her about her mixed emotions and her Momma would have helped guide her on what to do about them. But, if her Momma were still alive, she probably wouldn't be where she was right now. Then she remembered inviting him to dinner again tonight. Dear Lord, she was in trouble. She started to tremble a bit at the thought of another kiss. She entered the cottage and started rummaging through the closet to find something to wear for her next dinner date.

Dillon had stayed awake for most of the night. He had left Charlie's cottage last night with a spring in his step that he hadn't had since Maggie had died. He should feel guilty for kissing Charlie but it felt so right. She felt right. He had gone outside to watch the lighthouse beacon turn off. It was a silly tradition, the lighthouse. It wasn't needed. His wife might still be alive if he had given it up but his great grandfather had insisted that they keep it going. So they had, his grandfather and father before him. Each passing down the legacy. And now here he was passing it on to strangers. His thoughts drifted back to Charlie. She definitely was not a stranger any more. That kiss had awakened something inside of him he thought was long since buried. He glanced at the clock on the mantle unsure of how he was going to survive the day until he could see her again.

Charlie settled on bluejeans and a white poet's shirt. She loved the flowy bell sleeves. She pulled her hair up into a messy bun and started on dinner. She made a pie crust and used the leftover pot roast to make the filling. When she was finished with the meal prep, she set a jug out on the porch to make sun tea. It was already mid-afternoon so she only needed to wait a couple of more hours before Dillon arrived. She felt like a teenager again. She knew it was just the rush of connecting with someone. There was an attraction between her and Dillon and it felt nice. She didnt expect it to turn into anything serious. Charlie liked his company. She was learning that while solitude was sometimes bliss, good company was even better.

Charlie went to her bedroom to give herself one last look in the mirror. The moment she saw her reflection she also saw a woman standing across the room behind her. Charlie jumped and turned around. There was no one there but a single rose lay on her bed. Charlie froze. Without any hesitation she knew what had just happened. It was Maggie. Some people would have ran from the room but Charlie sensed need in the vision she had seen standing behind her. She remembered her dream. Charlie put her hand to her lips. "Maggie was pushed off the lighthouse", she whispered. "How can I help you, Maggie?" In a sudden gust of wind, Charlie's bedroom window blew open and Charlie heard the feminine whisper. "Justice". Time seemed to stand still as Charlie processed what had just happened. Maggie needed her to solve her murder. Not only that but Charlie needed to tell the world that Maggie's death was not an accident. Her mind whirled with questions. Who could have pushed Maggie? She refused to believe Dillon had anything to do with the death of Maggie St. Clare. Yet somewhere deep within she reminded herself that she hardly knew him and anything was possible.

A light tap on her door caused her to jump. It was too early for Dillon to arrive. She hurried to the door to find none other standing before her. He was holding a large box. "I brought you a few things. I figured if we were going to be sharing a meal I could at least replenish what I ate", he said with a smile. She stepped back to let him inside and glanced at the clock. He was right on time. Where had the last few hours gone? She had lost at least two hours.
She followed him to the table and peered inside the box he had deposited in front of her. Besides the regular staples, he had brought a box of soda crackers, some cheese, grapes and a bottle of Moscato wine.

"I thought we might have a small picnic tomorrow for lunch. I decided to bring a few things over this evening but I will have more tomorrow. Er, that is if you'll join me?", he asked with a smile. Charlie was a little on edge and wished she could open the wine right now. She did love picnics though. "Of course I would love that", was her less than eager reply.
She put the pot pie in the oven and started putting away the groceries he had brought.

Dillon noticed that something seemed off with Charlie. Maybe he had jarred a memory or overstepped some boundary. "Charlie? Is everything ok?", Dillon asked in a quiet voice. "If I've done something wrong, please tell me".

Charlie didn't know how to answer him. How could she tell him that she had a ghostly encounter with his dead wife and and that his wife wanted justice. She wanted him to tell her that he was innocent. She saw the pain in his eyes when they first met. Was it remorse or just the lost of a loved one that had his soul twisted in pain? She turned to face him.

"Dillon, do you believe in ghosts?"
He cocked his head to the side. He had never seen a ghost but he had heard tales, some even about this very cottage. He refused to give them credit and maintained his distance for his own selfish reasons. "Not personally, but I know people who have seen things they couldn't explain. Why do you ask?".

Charlie took a deep breath. "I have seen Maggie here. She was pushed", she said quickly. The oven timer dinged and Charlie turned to remove the pot pie. When she turned back around, Dillon still sat there expressionless. "Well, now I've done it", she thought surreptitiously. "He thinks I am crazy".

Dillon did not know why but he believed her. Suddenly he felt guilty for staying away from the cottage all these years. Maggie was still here and he could have helped her. Feelings of jealousy arose within him as he pondered the fact that Maggie had never let her presence be known to him. He stood up. "I am going to run up and turn on the beacon before we eat". And Dillon was out the door before Charlie could say a word.

Charlie sat down at the table. What was she thinking telling him this. She knew she had dropped a bombshell by the look on his face. It wasn't a look of guilt but that of shock and surprise. She also saw pain in his eyes. She felt the urge to comfort him. After a moment, she rose and poured two glasses of tea and set the table for dinner.

As Dillon climbed the stairs of the lighthouse he was now fully aware that Maggie was near. He touched the railing where her hands had once been. His thoughts turned to anger. Someone pushed Maggie off the balcony. He had trusted everyone on the island but someone murdered his wife and was still free. He reached the top and entered the room to turn on the light. Heaven help whoever took his wife away from him. They would pay. He would make sure Maggie was avenged.

Dillon walked through the door and stopped short of the table. "She died because of me. I was sick and she went up there because of me".

Charlie's heart went out to him. He sat down at the table and the two of them ate in silence. She didn't know what to say to give him comfort and he felt numb inside.
When they finished their last bites, Dillon stood up. "I need to go. I will be back tomorrow morning". And then he left. Dillon didn't go directly home. He needed some air to clear his head. To think. To try and make sense of all of this. Silently he whispered, "Maggie, I'm sorry". In the wind he heard her voice. "I will always love you". He shivered as he stood overlooking the ocean. "I will avenge you", he answered her.

Maggie stood on the docks watching him, wishing him an ill fate. "His time will come and he will pay for what he did to me", she swore to herself. "He will never hurt anyone again". And with that she left the docks with the wind. Everything was finally in motion and she knew the truth would finally be revealed. As she faded away she whispered to Dillon, hoping he could finally hear her. She smiled when she heard his answer.