Sanctuary Annie

By Merabeth James

Annie wakes screaming, night after night, as an old terror returns to stalk her dreams. Memories nudging at the door? She has no way of knowing, but a doubtful Annie is frightened enough to listen when her friend Gracie suggests she visit a local psychic/witch.
Sister Rachel is not at all what she expected, and she is more than a little skeptical when she tells her that dark and dangerous secrets are hidden in her past and must be brought into the light...quite possible at great cost!
Dismissing Sister Rachel as a colorful kook, she heads back to Oak Hill, where she has lived since the age of three, when her grandparents assumed custody of her after her mother 'dumped' her and then 'inconveniently' died in a car crash.
Back home, she finds her mother's lawyer waiting for her outside the gate. He has a letter for her and a bit of news. Apparently, her mother had not died years ago, but quite recently and had left her a mysterious inheritance.
Opening the letter, she is stunned to read: “Take care of Sanctuary Annie for me." It was signed: "With all my love, your mother".
Furious that the mother who had abandoned her and then faked her own death dared ask anything of her, Annie balls up the letter and tosses it away but Gracie urges her to go find this "Sanctuary Annie" and maybe, in doing so, she would find the missing pieces of her life that haunted her nights
After an ugly scene with her grandparents that effectively burns the bridge to the family 'castle', Annie loads up her car and heads to Belle Harbor, Florida...”a place hard to find, even when you know where to look”.
Arriving in her yelllow BMW, she looks around for a five star resort and sees, to her acute dismay, only a small marina. She also runs into Jake Tremayne, a man with a dark secret of his own, and no patience for the pampered ‘princess’ invading his world.
Shocked by what she has inherited,, but with no where else to go, a disgusted, angry, and sadly resigned, Annie, reluctantly, begins her new life. A life filled with many surprises... some good and some very very bad indeed!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Merabeth James
• Release date: Apr 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458053213

Merabeth James

There are six things important to me...well, most important to me: To love unconditionally, to always keep a sense of 'wonder', to always be kind, to find joy in simple things, to never take myself too seriously, and to make sure I don't leave this earth with a list of "if only I hads".I've taken many 'leaps of faith' in my time and, so far, have landed on my feet or, in one case, on a dilapitated houseboat with my dog, and a lot of enthusiasm. I named her 'Sanctuary Annie' and hoped for the best. I knew nothing about boats, couldn't swim and wondered how long she would stay afloat. In the middle of the night, when my dog jumped up to join me on the antique Victorian bed I had moved on board, I would check to see if he was wet, knowing, if so, we were both in big trouble. But Sanctuary Annie hung in there, even surviving a hurricane, when others around her were not so fortunate.Living in the small marina, with the sea as my back yard, I found a profound sense of peace..and the love of my life....my Jim, captain of 'Wings', a beautiful racing sloop that flies across the water, when the wind fills her sails.I often think how much I would have missed out on, if I hadn't taken that leap of faith and followed my heart. Life is meant to be lived and I intend to keep on doing just that.

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This book is entirely a work of fiction. All characters are entirely fictitious and do not represent any persons living or dead. Product/business/location names used remain the property of any/all trademark holders and do not represent an endorsement or association of any kind, either expressed or implied.

No animals were harmed in the writing of this book!

Copyright 2011 by Elizabeth Repka

(Smashwords Edition)

Sanctuary Annie

by

Merabeth James

Chapter One

More than a generation ago, the little town of Coronet had been a simple fishing village with working class people making their living from the sea. Their harbor was deep and their miles of white sand beaches, pristine. In addition to the docks and bait shops, the town consisted of little more that a red brick courthouse, a post office, a small hardware, a grocery store, and two Baptist churches.. . As the years passed, other small ‘mom and pop’ stores joined them in a patch work quilt of architecture. Housing was a sprawl of small cottages, several two storied apartment buildings, and a few Victorian ‘painted ladies’, some of which had been converted into boarding houses.

Then one day, a very wealthy and very enterprising land speculator had stopped there for gas on his way up the coast. Looking out over the harbor, he had thought, what a perfect place to locate a new Eden for the extremely wealthy. The very spot for their yachts, their horse farms, their oversized estates. Why, they could have their very own town with their own laws, taxes, and ‘en-suite’ staff with the proper training! How appropriate it was already called Coronet. He smiled in appreciation of the joke, as he tipped the pimply faced teenager, who had pumped his gas, never knowing that his destiny was about to change forever.

And so it began. The New Town versus the Old Town and its working class traditions. The newcomers deepened the harbor to accommodate their over-sized yachts and built a country club that would rival any for its pretentiousness. Mansions sprang up like spring mushrooms. A new boutique town of expensive specialty shops and restaurants rose like a phoenix from the ashes of the old buildings that had stood for more than a century. Coronet became a playground designed for the wealthy and their guests. The caterpillar metamorphosed into the butterfly, though many of the locals believed it was the other way around. But no one could predict the evil that was born there or its consequences.

Chapter Two

Trying to make themselves as small a target as possible, they crouched together in a darkness that had become as thick as the inside of a black velvet box. The drizzle of rain fattened into large drops, pelting them, as the lighting crept, steadily, closer. Maggie looked up as a bolt zigzagged along the horizon, lighting the scene for a brief instant...just enough time to see their pursuers silhouetted against the cold, blue-white light. They were coming closer: Flashlights slashing the darkness in moving arcs, they swept the underbrush from side to side. Annie whimpered, as she held her close. I want my daddy, Annie cried.

Hush, baby, hush. Daddy’s right behind us, she whispered back to her small daughter, but she knew he wasn’t. John lay on the sidewalk face up to the cold rain. Dead by now. She couldn’t believe it ...wouldn’t believe it, but it was true. She remembered the blood seeping from the exit wound in his chest, as he whispered, Run, Maggie...hide. Keep Annie safe. Wings... And she’d snatched up their little Annie and run into the deeper darkness under the trees that edged the lawn of their small cottage. It looked so safe, with its porch light pushing back the dark, but it would be the first place they’d look.

Who were they? What could they possibly want? The only thing she knew for sure was that they had killed John and would gun them down with as much mercy as they had shown him. Behind her, she heard the splash of heavy footsteps on wet asphalt, before they were silenced in the grass. She fumbled for the cell phone in the pocket of her jeans, before she remembered she had left it in the console of her Mustang. Clutching Annie closer still, she prayed, silently, Oh, God! Oh, God! Where can we hide?

Feeling her way blindly, she pressed Annie tightly against her chest, as she slid under a low hanging bush and looked around. The rain didn’t find them there and she wiped the long strands of wet hair from her eyes. In the flashes of now frequent lightning, she could see the trees around them, thrashing and twisting in the rising wind that rose from a low moan to banshee shriek, as it forced its way into their hiding place. Thunder growled and she felt Annie shiver.

Just then, a brilliant flash revealed the nightmare approaching. Above the sound of the rain and wind, a sibilant sing-song voice called, Come out, come out wherever you are. An icy stab of fear shot straight through her center. It was a game to them, she thought, a game she had to win. Lightning flashed again and she saw they were closer... much closer, fanning out in a web of death. Now four flashlights searched the darkness. She only had one advantage. She knew this place better than they did, a lot better, even in the dark

Most of the woods had been cleared some 30 years ago to make room for a subdivision that never happened. A developer had hoped to introduce out of state retirees to a town that wanted no part of them. The development had died an early painful death at the hands of the town council and the ‘royal families’ of Coronet. But the sign, River’s Edge Estates, still hung on the crumbling pillars by the main road. It had been a place of dreams. Now it was her living nightmare.

The remnants of old roads and sidewalks still crisscrossed the area with weeds pushing up through the cracks. Avoiding open ground, she made her way deeper into the brush that grew thickly around the old foundations, that had been dug and never refilled except with bald tires and castoff items from those who took no notice of the ‘no dumping’ signs. Vines tore at her ankles and wet branches, maddened by the wind, lashed her face.

Stepping into a hole, she almost lost her balance. From the sounds behind her, she knew she’d gained a little time...precious time, but where could she go? Then Maggie remembered the cave they had found on the riverbank last summer. A large tree had been uprooted and the tangle of roots formed a natural hollow above the water line.

I’m scared, Mommy, Annie whispered.

I know, baby. It’ll be fine. Mommy’s got you and I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you. We’re going to play we’re bunnies. Remember how you dressed up for the Easter egg hunt? That was fun, wasn’t it? Now we’re going to hide in a bunny hole just like real bunnies do, okay?

Okay....just like real bunnies, Annie mumbled solemnly around the little thumb she had shoved in her mouth.

Maggie waited for the next lightning flash, then counted the seconds until a loud clap of thunder reverberated through the ground. Five seconds...5 miles and the worst of the storm will be directly over us. Please, God, no snakes, she prayed, as she pressed deeper and deeper into the thick regrowth of trees and shrubs. Ahead, the sound of rushing water took her by surprise. What she remembered, as a shallow river, was now an angry torrent that had risen almost to the top of its steep clay banks. Storms up in the hills had brought it almost to flashflood level.

Just keep going, she told herself. One foot in front of the other...just keep moving...Lightning lit the sky again and thunder boomed its crescendo, as she looked back over her shoulder. Two flashlight beams swept the woods she had just left. The tree! Where was the damn tree? She stumbled over a tangle of roots and almost fell, then smiled. By some miracle she had found it!

Now listen very carefully, Annie. Mommy is going to swing your legs through the handle on her bag and you’re going to sit on it just like a swing. Annie only nodded mutely, as Maggie positioned her small body so that her shoulder bag supported most of her weight. He had teased her about that very bag just a short time before....too short a time to have changed everything, but it had. Then she thought of something else. Searching inside the front flap, her fingers closed around a small penlight. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it. Please, God, let it work!

Now, Annie, I want you to wrap your arms around me as tight as you can...tighter...that’s it. Mommy needs her hands free for just a minute. Maggie stepped closer to the edge of the rushing water, and took a deep breath, then grabbed a root that stuck out from the twisted mass. The strap from her bag dug painfully into her neck, but she scarcely noticed, as, heart hammering in her throat, she tried to swing clear of the tree roots and into the entrance of the cave.

Suddenly, the clay bank gave way and they slid part way into the water. Annie screamed in terror. Grabbing frantically at the overhanging roots, Maggie scrambled for a foothold. The toe of her tennis shoe snagged a root and stopped their downward slide. Had they heard, she wondered?

Hey, I heard something up ahead. I think they went this way! someone shouted. Holding on with her left hand, Maggie swung them back up and under the thick nest of roots and dirt that formed the cave entrance. Balancing them briefly, she flashed the penlight into the opening. Empty and dry. At least, those prayers had been answered. Now mommy is going to help you out of your swing and we’re going to climb into the bunny hole, but we must be very, very quiet. Annie looked at her mother, solemnly, her eyes round with fear, then climbed inside. Nearby, someone broke through the brush and Maggie barely had time to settle back into the leaves and pull Annie into her arms, before she heard a woman shout, Over here! Looks like someone fell in the river. See the tracks? And there’s a little shoe down there in the mud. Reflexively, Maggie cupped Annie’s cold bare toes.

Yeah! I see ’em and I don’t see ‘em comin’ back out. Do you suppose they did us both a favor and drowned? a gruff voice asked hopefully. Someone kicked the tree trunk with a heavy foot and Maggie felt the reverberations jolt through her back. Annie began to whimper, but her mother’s touch quieted her instantly.

We couldn’t get that lucky! But it ain’t likely anyone would last long in that. ‘Specially carryin’ a kid, the woman added.

Let’s follow the bank for awhile in case they came out somewhere down river. You watch that side and I’ll watch this one. If I know the boss, he’ll be back in the car by now waiting to hear we’d finished the job. You goin’ to be the one to tell him we left a mess?

Maggie couldn't hear the woman's reply, as their voices faded with distance. She would wait, however long it took, till it was safe to leave their sanctuary. Settling back, she listened to the sound of the thunder, surprised to find the storm had pretty much blown its way out. .Annie's soft baby sounds told her she was asleep. The grief she had not had time for, exploded in her chest. She cried silently, not wanting to wake her sleeping child, when what she really wanted to do was rage and howl against the heavens. How could it have happened? Who would kill her kind, gentle, loving husband, who didn't have an enemy in the world. He was her love…her forever kind. Against all odds they had made their plans...dreamed their dreams. And now everything was gone. Annie stirred in her arms and she smiled. No. Not everything. She still held what was most important to them both. Kissing Annie, she let herself drift back to the beginning of the night, as she waited out the hours until dawn.

***

With three-year-old Annie between them, they left the boat still rocking from their exit and made their way down the stretch of dock, now lit by security lamps. Laughing, she and John turned their faces up into the soft, warm drizzle that cooled their heated bodies. They had just made love on deck, while Annie slept below, curled up in the aft bunk. They had been celebrating. The renovation of Wings was finally complete and the 29 foot Irwin racing sloop glistened with new fittings, paint and varnish that had taken many hours of painstaking work.

They had felt a connection with the derelict sailboat from the moment they first saw her at the dock in Gullport. The ‘For Sale’ sign hanging from her rail had faded so badly, they could barely make out who to call. Staring at her, they had both spoken at once, Let’s buy her!

Not exactly up to the family standards, John had said with a laugh.

But, then, neither am I and that didn’t stop you, she had reminded him.

Now...six months later...the sloop named ‘Wings’ had been completely refitted and they were headed home.

You know we’ll never get Annie to sleep once we get back. Look at her!

She watched their small daughter stomp in every puddle, laughing excitedly. Wain, she giggled, trying to catch it on her tongue.

‘Wain’ indeed young lady. I’d better get you in the car, or you’re going to be a sop. She opened the door of her ’69 Mustang convertible and fastened Annie in her car seat, then climbed into the driver’s seat next to John. Turning the key, she heard the starter motor kick in, but the engine refused to turn over. What now? It was fine when we got here.

Let me take a look, John told her. Unfolding his long length, he slid out, and popped open the hood. Nothing obvious and it’s way too dark and wet to work on it now. No chance of a lift. We’re the only car left in the lot, so it looks like we’ll have to hoof it. I’ll carry Annie, when she gets tired, but we’re likely to get pretty wet before we get home.

She pawed through the huge shoulder bag she always carried, and dragged out a folded plastic poncho, she’d sworn she’d never be caught dead in. Shaking it out, she slipped it over Annie’s head and draped it around her shoulders, then pulled the hood up to cover her black braids.

There...that should do you...toasty dry! she told her daughter.

You’ve got just about everything to set up housekeeping in that bag of yours, teased her husband.

Maybe, but I never know when I might need something, she returned, punching him lightly in the arm. Let’s get going, big boy!

Annie checked out the feel of the clear plastic that covered her from head to toe. She flapped her arms experimentally. She was a ghost like on Halloween or maybe a bird, she thought, as she began hopping up and down, until her parents each grabbed a hand.

She’ll be up half the night, when we do get her home. She’s wound up like a clock, John said with a smile.

Isn’t she always? she had sighed. When are we going to take ‘Wings’ out for her sea trial?

How about tomorrow? After this storm blows through, sailing should be great. Let’s go to Gullport and show Joe how she turned out, John said, as he looked at his wife. The rain had flattened her long blonde hair and her face glistened wetly in the overhead lights. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen wet or dry!

They walked together down the black ribbon of wet street on that warm summer night. Buildings thinned and then were no more. Sparse houses were already hunkered down deep in sleep. Here and there a streetlight shone, lighting a small patch of pavement before being swallowed up by the dark. Lightning flashed among the clouds, edging them with pulsing white light. The wind,, that had begun as a light westerly breeze, picked up, flapping Annie’s poncho against her bare legs that had given up puddle stomping for a very slow walk. Maggie scooped her up in her arms. Looks like you need a ride, sleepy girl, she told her little daughter, who snuggled against her chest.

Why don’t you let me take her. She’s getting to be a pretty big bundle, John said, reaching to take Annie

No, she’s fine. We’re almost there, she replied with a laugh. Looks like getting her to bed won’t be a problem after all.

The storm edged closer and they began to run, the loud slap of their shoes on wet pavement filling the silence between the rumbles of thunder. The full fury of the storm wouldn’t reach them till they were safely inside.

Just ahead, under the live oaks that rimmed the street and filled their yard, a dark colored car was parked, blending so well with the shadows it had been hard to see at first. That’s funny, John. Who’d be parked there?

I don’t know, Maggie. Maybe someone broke down. Let’s just get inside, he replied tersely, pulling her closer and increasing their pace. She glanced at the car, as they hurried by, but she couldn’t see past the darkly tinted windows. They had made it as far as their driveway, when she heard a car door creak open and looked back over her shoulder.

The blast of light from the gun muzzle lit up the dark...a silencer quieted the sound to a muffled ‘pop’...the bullet found its target. She heard John gasp, his hand sliding down her arm, as he slumped to the wet pavement at her feet. Kneeling next to him, still cradling Annie, she couldn’t begin to grasp what had happened. But the urgency of his words more than anything else decided her. No time... Run, Maggie, hide! Keep our Annie safe. Wings.... he had gasped close to her ear.

Leaving him was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she could hear them coming closer. Bolting like a frightened rabbit, she had barely made the cover of the trees, when she heard the second ‘pop’ and knew, whoever they were, they wanted her dead, too. And Annie? She hadn’t waited around to find out.

And now, as dawn's first light fingered its way into the cave where they lay, she wondered what it would take to keep that promise and hoped it wouldn't be more than the price they'd already paid.

Chapter Three

Why are you hollerin’ like a frog in a fry pan, child? You scared me half to death!

Annaleigh pushed the tangle of thick, black hair out of her eyes and squinted up at the person standing next to her bed. Grace Ellen had barely made five feet and she was proud of every inch. Her cornflower blue eyes held a smile that counterbalanced the frown that brought her heavy gray eyebrows perilously close to the top her short nose. Oh, Gracie. Leave be with your bossing for a change and let me get back to sleep. It’s a wonder that I haven’t had Sylvia fire you years ago, Annie told her with a groan, as she pulled her blankets up over her head.

It’s a wonder I didn’t quit years ago, so looks like we’re stuck with each other. So stop hiding under them covers and get your sassy butt out of that bed!, Gracie told her as she peeled back the blankets in one quick swipe. Furthermore, you need to tell me what’s going on with you. You’ve only been home from grad school a week and you’ve had me running in here three mornings in a row, thinking you’re being murdered in your bed! Now you tell old Gracie or.............and look at you! You’ve been crying!

Annie wiped the tears from her cheeks, looking at the small woman with the big heart who was the most mother she’d ever known, before she replied, It’s just nightmares, Gracie. And most of them are all pretty much the same. It’s dark and it’s raining, and lightning is flashing all around. Everything smells wet...like damp earth and leaves. Something is chasing me, but.......

But what, Annie? Go on!

Well, someone has me...holding me....and I hear a woman’s voice saying my name, but maybe I don’t....maybe it was the wind. It’s all mixed up, but the worst part is that it doesn’t go away, when I open my eyes. I’m still scared, Gracie, and I don’t know why.

Here’s a hankie for you, Gracie said, ,drawing a plain white handkerchief from up her sleeve. Sit up now and wipe your tears...you’re starting again just like a fountain. There’s something wrong here, Annie. You’ve never been one for tears and dreams and such....even when you were little.... She stopped for a moment and gave Annie a long searching look before continuing. Well, that’s not true. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, not if I wanted to keep my job that is, but when they hired me to look after you right after you first came, you cried in your sleep a lot, and screamed just like now, ’til I took you in my arms and rocked you back to sleep.

Well, I’m a little big for that now, she replied, trying a smile on for Gracie’s sake.

Maybe, but you’re big enough now to find out what’s going on and fix it. That’s what my Miss Annie would do. Not lay there like a rabbit hiding under her covers.

It’s funny you should mention rabbits, ’cause rabbits were part of the dream, too. I know it sounds crazy.

Not near as crazy as all I’ve heard in my born days. In fact, call it a coincidence, but I ran into someone just yesterday when I was getting my hair done. She sat under the next dryer and went on and on about some psychic or witch or whatever over in Old Town who helped her solve some family catastrophe by reading her cards. Now, I don’t normally hold with such things, but she seemed so convinced this woman was some kind of miracle worker. She gave me one of her cards and I slipped it into my purse just ’cause I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I’ll go fetch it if you get your lazy bones out of that bed.

A fortune teller! Me! What would Sylvia think, Annie asked, barely suppressing a giggle.

I’m sure there’s a lot you haven’t bothered to tell your grandmother about so you might as well add this to the list!

And how would you know about that? Annie prompted.

I know you, Missy and I know how to keep my ears and eyes open and my mouth shut. Funny thing how old Silver Queen ended up out to pasture at the Parker's farm two counties over just before your grandparents had her put down cause she 'wasn't worth her keep'. And that's just for starters. Now shake a leg. Hannah’s saved some breakfast for you, Gracie told her as she headed towards the door, where she turned to add, Before I forget, and you know me I do that a lot lately, your grandmother told me to remind you that today is her Garden Society party and she expects you to be there, and I’ll quote her here ‘wearing appropriate undergarments for a change’.

Please, can you just forget you told me? Annie begged, hugging her knees.

No, or the wrath of ‘God’ will smite me down, but I could tell her that you had already left, when I got up here, Gracie told her, knowing there’d be the devil to pay either way. Best go out the back. And take your bike. She’s in the gardens pestering George, right now, but she moves around fast and God help you if she sees you driving out of here. God help us both!, she added with a sniff and another scowl.

Why does she insist I attend this thing? She knows how much I hate her parties....all of them, actually.

The ‘ladies’ haven’t had a chance to ‘inspect’ you for over a year. Then, of course, they want to hear all about your engagement, Gracie told her with mischief in her blue eyes.

Jumping out of bed in one hop, Annie exploded. Engagement! Exactly what ‘engagement’ is that? Just what are they plotting, Gracie? You better tell me right now!

Gracie took her time replying, Why, your marriage to Bob Browne, Collette and Rob’s boy. Your grandparents have counted on this since you were no higher than.....than...

No way! Annie said angrily, interrupting a Gracie that seemed to be enjoying the situation way too much. You of all people should know I want nothing to do with that pompous, arrogant, selfish, gnat-brained idiot!

Gracie broke into a full smile. Usually it’s ’flea-brained, she pointed out. And don’t forget why Alice Jenkins suddenly left town.

As if I could ...besides, I thought I’d made myself clear on this a long time ago, Annie huffed, her fists clenched tightly against her sides, as she paced the floor.

Not clear enough, apparently. The wheels have been turning now just as they did in your daddy’s days. They wanted your father to marry Bob’s mother, Collette, donkey’s years ago, but he wouldn’t have any of it either. Have your say, Annie, but I wouldn’t pick today to do it. Make sure you grab something to eat before you make your escape. You look like a stick! I’ll leave that card I told you about on your bed, while you hop in the shower. Behave yourself today. You go setting your grandmother off, there’s the devil to pay all round.

As soon as the door closed behind Gracie, Annie headed for the bathroom. A hot shower always calmed her and she needed a lot of that right now. Slipping out of the oversized tee she liked to sleep in, she twisted her long, straight hair into a knot atop her head and plunged into the hot water gratefully. After she had indulged herself for as long as she dared, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out. After wiping the steam from the mirror, she dropped the towel and loosened her hair so that it flowed well below her still damp shoulders. Skinny as a stick Gracie had said and she studied her reflection. The woman she saw was tall at 5’10. At some time the ‘coltish’ look of her teens had softened into the slender, but pronounced curves of a woman. She cupped her breasts in both hands. They were not too big...just the right size to get away without wearing a bra any more than she had to, something her grandmother abhorred as entirely unladylike". She liked her black hair, that shimmered with blue highlights, falling straight and thick like a silk waterfall. Her grandmother had been after her for years to have it cut and ‘properly’ styled, but she liked the feel of it, especially when it streamed behind her in the wind like a mare’s tail

She pushed up the tip of her nose and tilted her head. Maybe not pert enough by the usual standard, but it was a nice nose and she liked it. Her lips were full and bracketed by two dimples when she smiled, which was often. She had her daddy’s gray eyes and that was her favorite part. She gave herself a mental shake. If she didn’t stop mooning like an idiot, Sylvia would catch her before she could escape. Grabbing a scrunchie, she shoved her hair back into a ponytail. Deciding against makeup, she rushed into her bedroom, where she pulled on designer jeans and a Gucci top. As she slid into them, she smiled briefly, thinking how much she liked nice clothes. Being the only girl her grandmother ever had to pamper, they both made frequent trips to New York for