Murder at the Ocean Forest

By Digger Cartwright

When Faye Underwood, a distraught young woman, disappears from the elegant Ocean Forest Hotel, Feltus Boone LaMont, the quintessential Southern hotel detective, is drawn into the emotional drama surrounding the guests. As Feltus conducts his investigation into Fayes apparent murder, her husband, Terence, is found murdered in their suitewith the door locked from the inside. This draws Feltus further into the intriguing web surrounding the Underwoods and their acquaintancesLord and Lady Ashburn (a British couple on holiday), Ms. Elizabeth Bascomb (a blind clairvoyant), and Preacher Cooper (a devout man of the cloth). The intricate plot that stretches from Myrtle Beach to the battlefields of World War II unfolds as a very persistent Feltus eventually uncovers the skeletons in the closets of all his guests.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 13, 2006
• ISBN: 9781469108803

Digger Cartwright

Digger Cartwright is the author of several mystery stories, teleplays, and novels including The Versailles Conspiracy, a modern day political thriller, Murder at the Ocean Forest, a traditional mystery novel set in the 1940s, The House of Dark Shadows, a psychological thriller, and The Maynwarings: A Game of Chance, a mystery set in the Old West. His latest book, Conversations on the Bench, is an inspirational/motivational novel. Mr. Cartwright has contributed to a number of articles on a wide range of financial, strategic planning, and policy topics. He frequently contributes articles, commentaries, and editorials focusing on current economic and political topics for the private think tank, Thinking Outside the Boxe. Mr. Cartwright is an enthusiastic supporter of local no-kill animal shelters. He enjoys golf, participating in charity golf tournaments, and attending WWE events. He divides his time between Washington, D.C., South Carolina, and Florida.

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Copyright © 2000, 2006 by Robert Digger Cartwright.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

To

Jean & Alison

For all the support and encouragement over the years,

I will be eternally grateful.

chapter one

Faye Underwood stared out the partially open window of the Pullman car in which she and her husband, Terence, were making their journey to the Ocean Forest Resort, what some considered the grandest hotel in the South at the present time, in the quaint seaside town of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. As the slow-moving train carefully progressed through the thick forests of tall, spindly pines just several miles from the sea, Faye became oblivious to the world around her and immersed herself in the vast wilderness which surrounded them; there, deep in those glorious old forests, was freedom from all the ills that plagued the world and weighed heavy upon the minds and souls of millions of individuals. She too pined to be free from the evils that enveloped her world and drove her mind to the brink of insanity on so many occasions, though she constantly reassured herself that this too would come to pass and that when this Second World War was over, all would return to normal in her life and the lives of those tormented by the death and destruction which ran rampant through once-innocent, untainted wildernesses such as that which she now admired.

Though the window was slightly cracked to allow some fresh air to flow into the stuffy, humid car and dampen the effects of the sweltering heat so common to this area on a wonderful afternoon in late August, Faye was so deeply engaged in thought that she took no notice of the incessant rattle of the train moving over the tracks, nor did she realize that her husband had quietly entered the car and now stood with his hand placed gently on the back of her chair. A slight rush of air delicately blew her fine blonde hair out of place and exposed her high forehead, wrinkled with lines of deep consternation usually found on women twenty or thirty years her senior. Regardless, she was still an attractive, genteel Southern woman with ordinary features very unlike those of the flamboyant Hollywood stars of the day, but her full lips, the colour of rose petals, had a seductive quality that men immediately noticed. Other than that, she was just another belle brought up by a decent family who had made the best of things during the crash and the ensuing depression by working together to survive. Her labours were evident only in her small hands, which were worn and bore the scars of calluses from toiling in the field.

Terence looked down upon her with no emotion and recalled what she had been like when they first had met—brilliant, bold, full of life. After their marriage, however, she had progressively changed, slowly withdrawing from her social activities and focusing her attentions on the events of the world at war. She seemed to slowly bear the weight of the world on her shoulders, and the fire of life which had burned inside her and had attracted Terence to her seemed to slowly fade and die. Now, she had aged prematurely, both physically and mentally. Her innovative and creative instinct had perished, and she no longer viewed life optimistically. She lived pessimistically and believed only in facts and that which she could behold or prove herself. Terence had attempted to remedy her deteriorating condition with various doctors’ prescriptions and recommendations for rest and relaxation in a new and vibrant atmosphere, but nothing had seemed to help. For a time, he had blamed himself for his heroic venture overseas which may have worried her unnecessarily, but it quickly became obvious that he was only partially responsible for her condition. Now, he was making a last effort to save the woman he had so dearly loved from the depths of despair and anguish.

Faye, he whispered so as not to startle her and to bring her back to this present world gently, Faye, dear.

The veil of oblivion that had descended over her eyes vanished as her mind returned to the warm cabin on the train. Several tiny beads of perspiration were perched upon her nose, but she ignored them and slowly turned her head away from the window. Rather than look directly at her husband, she gazed straight ahead at the empty chair across from her and swallowed hard. It was obvious that her thoughts in which she had been so deeply engaged troubled her enormously.

Faye, Terence continued, we’ll be there in about an hour. Perhaps you’d like to join me in the club car for a drink before we arrive. I’ve met some very interesting people who will be staying at the hotel as well.

I’m sure you have, Faye said with the slightest touch of sarcasm in her voice, but enough to make her husband take notice of her displeasure.

Terence’s entire body stiffened at the remark. What is that supposed to mean?

Faye gracefully moved her tongue over her dry lips. I’m sure you have already met some interesting women, Terence. Tell me, how many have there been on this trip?

Sighing at this accusation, Terence stepped away from her chair and turned his back to her. There have been no women on this trip, you know that.

How can I? Faye retaliated immediately. You leave me hours ago to entertain myself alone in this cabin while you go gallivanting from room to room.

Terence was disappointed in his wife’s irrational reasoning and her obsession with his infidelity. She had always suspected him of having an affair with a number of women, even some of her best friends, but her accusations were unwarranted. The affairs had been figments of her overactive imagination, which he had found amusing at first, but after all this time, her relentless attacks were trite and offensive. It was only his hidden love for her that inspired him to remain silent and unobtrusively defend himself.

No, my dear, it hasn’t been that long since I left you. I walked you back here after lunch, and that was only about an hour and a half ago. I haven’t been with anyone except the people in the club car. They’ll all verify that if you’d like them to do so. We’ve been playing cards and chatting. He turned slightly so that he could catch a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye.

She slowly turned to look at him directly and his slightly disheveled appearance—his shirt collar unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Do you give me your word that you haven’t been with another woman all this time? She knew what the reply would be; it was always the same regardless of the circumstances.

After running his hand through his wavy golden hair in order to pull his long bangs back from his forehead, he answered with steady assurance, You have my word, Faye. He then turned and looked her directly in the eyes. I still love you and only you, my dear. Somehow though, the long frown, his hollow cheeks weakened from his accident overseas, and the unemotional haze in his eyes betrayed him unconsciously.

Faye scrutinized the man standing before her, the man she had married and with whom she had been so insanely in love what seemed like a lifetime ago. He was different now; perhaps marriage and his ventures overseas had irreparably changed him in more ways than one. When she first met him, he had just graduated from Duke University with a degree in engineering. Though he inherited his family fortune which had survived the crash and enabled him to enjoy the flamboyant lifestyle of a playboy, he had planned on working for an aviation company to pursue his dream of flying around the world in record time. Since he had loved flying since he was quite young and always enjoyed a challenge, it was quite natural for him to agree to fly a few missions in Europe as part of covert government activities during the early stages of the war. He was madly in love with her then, but once they were married, the affairs began. He was always going behind her back, sometimes with her best friends. She felt used and neglected. It was not a marriage of love; rather, it was one of necessity. He needed a wife to save face with those who befriended him in their social circle. She was merely a showpiece for him—an item of convenience. The dashing lover was gone, replaced by the heroic pilot admired by many for his courage and daringness. His handsomeness had faded as more and more missions brought him closer to the brink of death in the killing fields overseas. It was too much to fathom.

Would you be so kind as to pour me a glass of water? Faye asked with her gentle Southern charm. I hadn’t realized how warm it was in here.

Terence forced himself to smile. Of course. He retrieved a small glass from the side table and filled it with cool water from the carafe.

Faye accepted the glass graciously and sipped the lukewarm liquid to moisten her lips and her parched mouth. Thank you, Terence.

Terence removed his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his brow. The car had suddenly become much warmer and closer than he had realized. Though he knew it could only be his imagination, he attributed the change in atmosphere to the tension that had just materialized then climaxed. Subconsciously, he was glad that his confrontation was ended without further dispute and unpleasantness. He gently yet cautiously placed his hand on her shoulder and felt her draw back slightly.

Shall we have a drink in the club car before we arrive? There are a few people I’m sure you’d like to meet, he said quietly as though he were talking to a small child.

Faye arose and smoothed out her grey linen dress then placed the glass on the silver tray on the side table. I would like that very much, Terence. I’m sure we’ll meet some fascinating people while we’re here. She smiled faintly then opened the door and entered the hall ahead of her husband who was still shaking his head at the sudden change in personality.

* * *

Faye entered the club car with quiet determination and with a sheepish smile spread across her lush lips in order to give the appearance of humbleness to those with whom she was not acquainted. When she abruptly stopped to survey the small group congregated in the club car, Terence nearly stumbled into her but gracefully managed to regain his balance without anyone having noticed his faux pas then took his place at her side. He smiled graciously at the guests and bowed faintly as the coloured servant attired in a tuxedo approached with a silver tray containing two glasses of lemonade. Terence took them both and handed one to Faye who accepted dutifully.

The club car was handsomely furnished with plush, overstuffed high-back chairs, upholstered in a paisley pattern, and mahogany tables. The walls were paneled with a dark wood, perhaps cherry or teak, which would normally shrink the appearance of any small quarters, but the large windows, adorned with heavy velvet curtains, permitted enough natural light to enter to induce the feeling of vast grandeur. There was a small bar, once stocked with the finest liquors but now reduced to serving only nonalcoholic beverages, at the far end of the car; even though Prohibition had ended in 1933, the South was still predominantly dry, unless one had access to homemade liquor. Next to the bar sat a baby grand piano, the ebony and ivory shining brilliantly in the sunlight radiating though the windows as the train passed through a large clearing in the forest. It was altogether the ultimate luxury for rail travel of the day.

After sipping her lemonade for a moment, Faye turned to her husband and said softly, Aren’t you going to introduce me, Terence?

As she turned back towards the guests, a strikingly beautiful woman of about forty, sitting in a chair next to a distinguished-looking gentleman in a wheelchair, immediately captured her attention. The woman had flowing auburn hair, partially concealed by her hat adorned with peacock feathers, which regally offset her fair, creamy skin and emerald eyes. Her high cheekbones and aquiline nose dominated her slender face; her mouth was pursed tightly as though she were slightly angry and wished to hide the emotion as cleverly as possible. The high collar of her formal afternoon gown of hunter green silk hid her small neck but managed to draw attention to her stunning features. She looked and acted as though she were royalty, glancing condescendingly upon the young woman who had just entered.

Of course, my dear, Terence said, as though he was startled by her sudden cordiality. That had always been her nature, he recalled; no matter how bad the domestic situation, the public façade was always one of kindness and contentment. This is Lady Jane Ashburn and her husband, Lord George Ashburn, from England.

Faye smiled. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, she said, addressing Lady Jane, who merely nodded ever so slightly as though it was improper to converse with a person of low social status.

Likewise, my dear, Lord Ashburn said loudly. You must forgive me for not rising to greet you, but as you can see I’m somewhat incapacitated at the moment. He pounded his fist on the arm of the wheelchair as if to demean the wretched contraption.

No need for apologies, Faye replied graciously then smiled warmly at the older gentleman who reminded her somewhat of her father—well built, strong of both mind and body, perpetually courteous. She immediately found it rather odd that this man should be wearing a three-piece dark brown wool suit at this time of year in this heat. Surely he must be extremely uncomfortable, but his outward appearance gave no indication as to his situation; there was not even the slightest trace of perspiration on his brow or nose. Though his upper lip was concealed by a bushy brown mustache, the colour of which matched his suit, Faye doubted there would be beads of perspiration there as well; obviously, he was one of the people who never found the temperature too unbearable, especially for heavy clothing, worn only during the fall and winter in the United States. Undoubtedly, he and his wife came from families of breeding, the lineage including the landed gentry of England, and fortune. Although Faye admired Lady Jane’s beauty, she felt reserve about the woman herself; in contrast, she immediately felt at ease with Lord Ashburn who seemed to give no pretenses about his social status or wealth.

Accident in the battlefields of France, he continued as though she would be interested in learning of his misfortune. His voice was strong and authoritative, giving way to his military experience and his own belief that when he spoke people should listen. Lost most of my men there. Good soldiers they were, but the Nazis had us outnumbered three to one. I caught a bullet in my leg and some shrapnel in my back. Doctors on the field nearly lost me, but I was too stubborn to die.

I’m very sorry to hear that, Faye replied with genuine concern as she listened intently to the gentleman’s story. War is such a terrible thing. She glanced at Lady Jane who was still sitting upright, her lips tightly pursed. I’m sure you were very worried about you husband.

Lady Jane nodded. I spent many a sleepless night worrying about my husband’s safety, but I realized that he was serving the Crown, fulfilling his duty as a loyal subject. If he had died, it would have been in the king’s name.

Lord Ashburn shifted his weight in the chair and winced at a jolt of pain in his wounds. I told the doctors, he continued, as though he was anxious to finish his tale, they better fix me up so I can get those Nazis that did this to me.

Men like you feed these senseless killing fields, a voice said from the corner. You should not be so eager to kill and condemn your soul to eternal damnation. After all, vengeance is mine so sayeth the Lord.

Faye studied the middle-aged man in the corner as he spoke softly but with conviction. Though he was partially concealed by shadows, she could clearly see the clerical collar of a preacher around his neck and immediately realized the foundation for his religious comments. His face was rather hollow, though it had obviously been full and jovial once, and his eyes were filled with concern and grief. Faye sensed that he too felt the weight of the world on his shoulders; he was someone with whom she could instantly relate. Indeed, someone in his position had enough to worry over, given he was dedicated to the task of saving the souls of the lost sinners in his congregation. He too had aged prematurely, his hair having receded dramatically, his body having withered with grief and fear of losing ground to the cloven-hoofed forces of the Devil.

Lord Ashburn’s cheeks bulged, and his face turned a subtle shade of crimson. This is war, by God. We’re trying to save millions of souls from the fiendish forces of the Nazis, those animals! His voice raised louder than normal and was lined with traces of disgust. Obviously, he did not take kindly to those who wished to criticize or condemn his valorous work in defense of the Crown.

The preacher did not even flinch at the Englishman’s outburst and remarks of displeasure. Rather, he leaned forward in his seat so the light could catch one side of his face and continued in the same soft monotone, You sacrifice innocent men and kill those who are fighting for what they believe is right. You and your armies leave nothing but death and destruction in your wake. Who is the animal now? Satisfied with his rebuttal, he settled back in his chair.

Insulted by the disparaging remarks of the reverend, Lord Ashburn had no choice but to defend his honour and his cause. Vividly angry now, he clasped the arms of his wheelchair so tight that his knuckles turned deathly white. Enough! I’ll not have any of that, man! I’ll not settle for you criticizing our duties. You know nothing of what we do, and your sanctimonious attitude and your meek-shall-inherit-the-earth sermon will do nothing but prove hypocritical. We are doing what we must to save the world from the army of darkness. You insult me and demean yourself. Successfully managing to restrain himself from further displays of emotion, Lord Ashburn grabbed his glass of lemonade and took a long swallow.

The man of the cloth nodded, knowing he had gained some satisfaction from disturbing this proper gentleman from England. You may be right. He clicked his tongue as a gesture of disapproval. And I may be totally wrong, but I, sir, have seen the killing fields. I have spent the better part of the last year in the battlefields. I have seen the piles of bodies all around, rotting and decaying. I have seen the men brought to the field hospitals, maimed and dying, and I have brought comfort to them in their final hour. He paused and collected his thoughts. I have seen what you believe is so valiant and noble. It is revolting in my opinion. I have suffered as well. The car was so deathly silent that the reverend’s words echoed through their minds like words of a dying man on the battlefield of which he now spoke. I gave my only son to that war, sir. Perhaps that is why I have such difficulty in sharing your sentiments, Lord Ashburn.

Lord Ashburn’s face was tenser now, as though this realization had suddenly halted the drive for confrontation within him. Though he attempted to hide his sudden sorrow, there were undeniable traces of guilt evident around his eyes and mouth. Perhaps he had been too strong in arguing his convictions with this humble man who had made the ultimate sacrifice for this crusade. Since apologizing would be out of character for him, he would merely leave the matter to die in the open.

Gentlemen, Terence interceded before any further debate commenced, we are well removed from that war here. Let us not think or talk of such depressing matters. We are all here to enjoy ourselves and relax. Let us put this incident behind us, shall we? He received a swift nod from Lord Ashburn, then he turned to the preacher. Preacher Cooper, how about you?

The preacher smiled without any emotion behind it as he arose from his chair and took a step forward, into the full light for once. Men of the cloth don’t hold grudges, he said to Terence then nodded humbly at Lord Ashburn who remained as rigid as a statue. Ma’am, he said to Faye, it is a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry that you had to witness this little scene.

It was nothing, Reverend, she replied respectfully as she offered her hand.

Preacher Cooper gently took her hand in both of his and smiled. You’re most kind. Perhaps we may talk soon of that which troubles us.

Faye was astounded by his ability to discern her own emotions and his desire to comfort her mind and spirit. At last she had found someone in whom she could confide and confess her troubles. Finally, someone would be capable of understanding that which tormented her and would be able to offer her advice on freeing her mind of the shackles that bound her now. I should like that very much, Reverend.

If you will excuse me, then, he said, releasing her hand and addressing the entire flock, I should collect my worldly goods and prepare for our arrival. I am sure we will all be meeting again at the hotel. Perhaps we shall have the pleasure of dining together before we all depart. With that, he turned and slowly left the club car, walking as though hundreds of pounds of chains rested heavily upon his shoulders. Once he was gone, the tension in the room seemed to evaporate, and the remaining occupants seemed to return to the world around them, having been transported to some heavenly realm of debate only minutes beforehand.

Breaking the silence, Lady Jane said with contempt, You should not have provoked him like that, George. You should learn to control your temper. That was rather embarrassing getting in a tiff with a man of the cloth. She looked down her nose upon her husband as she spoke, and her displeasure, that of a mother confronted with a naughty child, was obvious in the tone of her voice.

Well, Lord Ashburn began, he may have a reason to hate the war, but that doesn’t give him the call to attack my honour and my duty. It was all rather unwarranted, and I believe we shall try to avoid such discussion in the future.

He was a rather quiet man and quite likeable, Faye defended the preacher.

Lord Ashburn huffed into his mustache. Quite an agreeable fellow, but he does have a bitter streak in him, I’m afraid. Must be careful of men like that. He noticed his wife’s searing glare and continued, Even if he is a man of the cloth.

Seeing the pretense of an admonition in Lady Jane’s expression, Faye interjected, Terence was in the war as well. He was shot down in France while on a mission. She smiled at Lady Jane who realized the futility of lambasting her husband and returned the gesture, the first indication of her sincerity.

You fly planes? Lady Jane raised her eyebrow inquisitively.

Terence smiled and stepped towards her. Yes, it’s long been a hobby of mine. One day I hope to make an around-the-world voyage.

How exciting! Lady Jane said with genuine enthusiasm. You remind me much of your fellow American who last year set the record for an around-the-world flight. What was his name? She looked to the floor as though she would find the answer there, and her brow wrinkled with consternation. He was a Texan I believe.

Howard Hughes, my dear, Lord Ashburn assisted her memory.

Lady Jane’s face illuminated with the mention of the dashing young aviator who had made headlines around the world in 1938. Of course, Howard Hughes! You do look much like him, you know.

Terence blushed slightly. Thank you, Lady Jane, that is quite a distinguished compliment. Howard Hughes is a very remarkable gentleman, but I can only hope and aspire to accomplish what he has in these last few years.

You seem very determined, young Terence, Lord Ashburn assured him. I’m sure we’ll be reading of you someday, as long as you have the notion to stick to your endeavours.

Lady Jane looked to Faye and said, You must have worried terribly after your husband was shot down.

Faye immediately froze, and her expression changed from that of cordiality to that of dreaded remembrance of events long passed which still caused considerable heartache. In the aftermath of that crash, Terence had irrevocably damaged their marriage and their relationship. Her suspicions had been confirmed on this one occasion, and that had plunged her into the depths of despair out of which she was still trying to save herself. Had she never found out, perhaps she would be much better off than she currently was, both physically and mentally. Now that Lady Jane had dredged up all those horrible memories, which she had attempted to relegate to the dark corners of her mind, she must confront them once again, but this moment, she realized, was not the time for that. She must act and conduct herself as Lady Jane would in the same circumstances.

It was very traumatic for me, not knowing whether he was dead or alive, Faye replied as she glanced at Terence lovingly. I’m so very glad he made it home without further incident. As a matter of fact, we’re on this trip so that he can finish recuperating.

Ah, Lady Jane said, I see that we all have something in common then.

Yes, Faye agreed with a laugh, except I won’t allow Terence to go back on any more missions once he has recovered. He’s going to stay right at home with me where I can keep a close eye on him. She glanced at Terence and smiled with satisfaction. At least she would be able to keep track of him that way.

Lord Ashburn cleared his throat, Miss Underwood, you’ve been standing this whole time. I feel rather bad about that. Please, have a seat. He waved his hand towards a chair next to him. I’m sure we’ll be arriving shortly, but let us at least chat until we arrive, he continued affably.

Faye flashed him a smile that only Southern women possess then accepted the chair. Thank you, I should like that very much.

Lady Jane looked out the window as they passed though another forest of tall pines. Tell me, have you been here before? I should very much like to confirm the stories I have long heard about this grand resort.

Oh, yes, Faye acknowledged with satisfaction. We were here on our honeymoon. It truly is a lovely place; I’ve never seen anything quite like it before.

I hear it is absolutely breathtaking, Lady Jane continued, her line of questioning intended to subtly extract information about the Underwoods and their experiences. A good friend of ours was here last year and spoke very highly of the resort.

I’m sure you’ll be very pleased, Terence replied as he studied the exquisite features of Lady Jane’s visage. It rivals anything you have in London, I can assure you. The accommodations are absolutely lovely, Terence continued then mumbled under his breath, much like you, Lady Jane, much like you.

Lady Jane snapped her attention to Terence and smiled a secret knowing at his last comment which she felt sure went unnoticed by her husband and Faye. Those are very kind words, Lady Jane said, meaning the last compliment Terence had made. You must be very impressed with the features and the landscape, she added, obviously implying her own beauty.

Most definitely, I am, Terence said over the rim of his glass of lemonade.

Sensing some flirtatious airs, Faye shot a cold glare at Terence to show him that she was aware of his intimations then began, Terence is right. She turned her focus to Lord Ashburn and, for the first time, noticed his graying hair at the temples and above his ears glistening in the sunlight. The honeymoon suite was taken, so we stayed in an absolutely divine executive room. It was wonderful, she clapped her hands together then glanced back at Terence who was mesmerized by Lady Jane, don’t you agree, Terence? After he mumbled his approval, she continued, It had a quaint parlor attached and an enormous bath. The colours, a light blue and green, were splendid, and the walls, of course, were paneled. I felt as though I were staying in the White House.

I can see you were quite satisfied with the accommodations, Lord Ashburn concluded. You were in the Tower then?

Oh, no, Faye said as though she was shocked by the suggestion. The Tower is quite exclusive. We haven’t been able to get a room in there.

Terence laughed. I understand the rooms in there are quite palatial, but I’ve also heard rumours that many things go on in there. He glanced slyly at Lady Jane.

What things? Lady Jane asked inquisitively as though she sensed Terence’s desire for her to open Pandora’s box.

Gambling and meetings between high-profile individuals, Terence said. Things with which I’m sure a lady should not concern herself, unless of course you are staying in the Tower, he added with a trace of sarcasm.

No, we weren’t able to secure accommodations there either, Lord Ashburn interjected. We’re right near the Tower, but what’s the name of the suite, Jane?

Lady Jane looked out the window. The Southern Suite, I believe. Rather fitting, isn’t it?

I’m sure it will be to your liking, Faye added.

I certainly hope so, Lord Ashburn laughed to ease the pain of the pending insult. I did not travel halfway around the world for some wretched hotel. He patted Faye’s hands, which were folded in her lap. You seem a woman of breeding and culture, so I’m sure the hotel will be just fine.

The waiter approached respectfully and, without making eye contact with whom he perceived as his betters, said quietly, We be arriving any minute now. Shall I have your carry-on bags gathered for you?

Delighted with the service they were being given, Lord Ashburn replied cheerfully, I should like that very much, my dear fellow. There will be a car waiting for us at the station.

Sir? he asked, turning his body slightly towards Terence.

No, Faye answered, we’ll take care of that. I still have a few things to collect, but thank you all the same.

Taking that as his sign of dismissal, the waiter nodded and obediently exited the car to arrange for the English couple’s bags to be collected.

Faye arose and watched Terence move quickly to her side like a loving husband should. She felt ill by his sudden interest in husbandly duties or rather his superfluous act for their new acquaintances. Lady Jane was indeed a striking woman, and she could see why Terence would be attracted by her. This time, however, she was going to keep a hawkish eye on the Don Juan; nothing would spoil her plans for rest here at the sea. Terence would undoubtedly try to seduce Lady Jane, but she hoped the Englishwoman’s morals and principles as a lady would prevent any such unfortunate event. She had taken an immediate fondness to the couple, and she would find it absolutely deplorable if her own husband was to ruin the marriage of these newfound friends.

Terence, we should take our leave now, Faye said with authority in her voice. Lord and Lady Ashburn, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I truly hope we will meet again during your stay.

Lord Ashburn took her hand and kissed it as any gentleman would. The honour has been ours. I should look forward to our next meeting.

Terence offered his hand which Lord Ashburn shook firmly. Perhaps you would do us the pleasure of joining us for dinner? Terence asked then smiled at Lady Jane.

We shall see, Lady Jane replied with a tone of finality to the conversation. Miss Underwood, it has been nice chatting with you.

Faye nodded curtly. Lady Jane, she replied then turned and left the club car, Terence close at her heels.

Once in the passageway, Terence quickly gained ground on his wife and noticed her lower jaw was pushed forward, the undeniable indication that she was extremely upset and unwilling to discuss the matter at any length. His stomach churned, and his lower lip quivered momentarily as he mentally struggled to find the most appropriate way to break the seemingly insurmountable tension which had developed. Subconsciously, he knew that regardless of what he said she would inexplicably misconstrue his comments. Obviously, she was furious with the way he had conducted himself in the club car in the presence of Lady Jane and interpreted his actions as advances on the married woman. He was trapped, and he knew it.

I know what you’re thinking, he attempted to delve to the heart of the matter.

Faye exhaled sharply through her nose. I didn’t know you were into reading minds as well as charming married women.

He had been right, but he knew there would be no reasoning with her. I was only being cordial.

And I suppose you’ll have me believe that you were just being cordial with all those other women? Faye’s voice rose above its normal tone but still not enough to disturb occupants in other cabins as they progressed down the passage.

There never were any other women. How many times do I have to tell you that? Terence was obviously annoyed by her persistent insistence that he was romancing various other women. That was all in your head—your overactive imagination working to fill the lonely hours while I was away.

I saw the way you were looking at her, Faye turned to face him as she reached their cabin door. There was anger in her eyes and resentment in her voice. I’m sure you just can’t wait to get a few moments alone with her. That’s not going to happen. I won’t allow it.

Terence shook his head in defeat. All right, whatever you say. Now, shall we pack your things? We’re almost there. He motioned for her to step aside, but she stood firm with her back pressed against the door. Come on, step aside. There was a touch of impatience in his voice.

Faye’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her husband in disgust. I’ll take care of that. You can wait right here. She pressed the palm of her hand firmly against his chest as indication that she expected her orders to be obeyed.

Realizing the futility of further debate, Terence accepted his punishment and stepped back from her. He sadly watched as she turned and entered the cabin, closing the door forcefully behind her. There was sorrow in his heart as he watched his wife’s condition slowly deteriorate. He still loved her, even though she had become obsessed with what in her mind was his infidelity. If there were some way to make her realize the utter foolishness of her accusations, perhaps their marriage could be repaired. Regret had overwhelmed him for some time since the accident and incident during his recovery in the field hospitals in France. What had happened could not be changed; they could only work to overcome the grief that his actions had caused. Otherwise, there was only one way out of this mess, and he feared that would push Faye over the edge.

* * *

The train slowed to a halt at the small brick depot in the heart of the town. The conductor called out as a porter offered Faye his white-gloved hand while she disembarked, clutching her overnight bag in her free hand. As she stepped onto the tiled platform, the salty sea air greeted her with a rush, its invigorating scent filling her nostrils and exciting her mind, much like smelling salts to a fainted person. She took several steps towards the entrance to the building, her heels clicking on the shining tiles, so that the roof would shade her from the boiling sun of late afternoon. Everything was just as she had remembered it—the unmistakable form of the Chapin building just a block away, the sounds of cars and carriages gliding down Main Street, the gentle breeze blowing off the ocean and caressing her fair skin like silk. The moment transported her back to happier days, when she had fewer cares and worries, and for an instant she was at peace with herself.

Terence saw her standing there, smiling like she was the first time they had met. The scene touched him deeply and only heightened his regret for all the problems he had caused between them and intensified his sorrow for the mental anguish which Faye had imposed upon herself these last few months. Perhaps this was exactly what she needed to inspire her to end her self-inflicted mental exile and to return their relationship to normal. After all, this was their last chance before drastic measures must be taken to ensure peace for both of them.

You’re glad to be back, aren’t you? Terence said as he approached her so as to extrapolate from her apparent satisfaction.

Yes, she replied with an almost-childish giggle, I almost forgot how wonderful it feels to be at the ocean. It does wonders for the health. Her demeanour indicated that she had seemingly forgotten the incident aboard the train only minutes ago. It was as though she were an entirely different person standing here on the platform, surveying the surroundings which were so familiar to her. Indeed, she even appeared different—young and full of life once again, qualities that had almost vanished from her over the preceding few months.

Terence took her gently by the arms and kissed her softly on the forehead. I’m truly glad to see you so happy again.

Instinctively, she pulled away from him and smiled as though she knew a secret she was not supposed to reveal. She understood how her husband worked, and this was merely one of his feeble attempts to brush aside his indiscretions and recapture her affections. No, she had decided long ago, it would not be that easy. She would make him work especially hard towards that goal and dangle the carrot in front of his nose but just out of reach. It would take much effort and cunningness to accomplish what she saw as fitting and proper restitution for her husband. She should enjoy each moment of it.

Thank you for your concern, she replied charmingly. I—, she glanced over Terence’s shoulder at the man who approached them. He was wearing a dark chauffeur’s uniform, complete with cap perched atop his head of sandy blonde hair unusual for a man of his age; he was at least fifty, Faye guessed, but had maintained his health and figure so that he outwardly gave the appearance of a man much younger. Surprisingly, he reminded her of Terence for some odd reason; perhaps it was the way he carried himself as though he should be noticed for who he was and the family from which he had come. Rather uncharacteristic of a chauffeur, a mere servant to the rich and famous, she concluded, but let the matter pass as inconsequential. May I help you? she asked.

The man tipped his hat at her and then again when Terence turned to face him. Mr. and Mrs. Underwood? It was more of a question than a statement, and when he realized they had not corrected him, he continued, I’m from the Ocean Forest Hotel. My name is Bill. I have the car waiting for you, if you’re ready.

Terence smiled broadly. Of course, I’ll get the baggage.

Bill held out his hand to stop him. I’ve already taken care of that, but, ma’am, if you’d like me to get that. He indicated the overnight bag Faye was still clutching.

Faye displayed her trademark smile and handed him the leather bag. Thank you, that’s very kind of you.

He accepted the bag then turned to leave. This way, please, he said over his shoulder as he took a step down the platform.

Faye followed close behind with Terence trailing by only a few steps. Though she found it strange that there was no sign of the Ashburns, she discounted the matter as irrelevant and decided to spend some time with them once they all arrived at the hotel. After descending the stairs and rounding the corner of the depot, Faye was surprised to see a perfectly polished Rolls Royce touring limousine, the grey paint’s mirror-like sheen glistening in the sun. As she paused to admire this superb craftsmanship, Terence caught up with her and took her arm.

It’s quite a fine automobile, no? he inquired, apparently pleased with the limousine himself.

Stunning, Faye said with admiration. But I don’t recall them having this for our honeymoon. Her brow furrowed with perplexity.

Terence laughed. They did, but I remember we had a carriage take us to the hotel. You thought it was very romantic at the time.

As the realization dawned upon her clouded memory, her eyes brightened and filled with joy at the recollection of the event, the quintessence of Southern aristocracy. I remember now, she nodded, but I’m not sure which I like more. This is absolutely marvelous. You don’t see many of these nowadays.

Not in this country at least, Terence added as he took several steps, forcing her to accompany him. What with the war and all, you can’t get them for the time.

The chauffeur had placed Faye’s bag in the back and now stood attentively with the door open, waiting for the passengers to enter. Several beads of perspiration dotted his forehead and upper lip, but like a guard at Buckingham Palace he remained stiff and motionless, making no effort to wipe away the moisture that tickled his skin.

The Underwoods arrived at the automobile, and Terence immediately settled himself in the back. Faye, annoyed by his lack of consideration and etiquette, glanced at the chauffeur who graciously offered his hand in assistance. She accepted warmly and thanked him as he closed the door behind her. Once she had adjusted her dress around her legs to her satisfaction so as not to allow Terence an object at which to stare, she folded her hands in her lap and admired the interior of the vehicle. Every detail was meticulously crafted, right down to the walnut bar, now neglected due to the overzealous political beliefs of the elected officials. It was a remarkable automobile, one of desire to both wealthy and destitute alike. She had immediately fallen in love with this and decided that when the time was right, she too would own one of these marvelous examples of British craftsmanship.

The chauffeur had started the quiet engine and pulled the limousine onto the road. You can put up the privacy glass if you like, he said over his shoulder.

That’s all right, Terence replied cheerfully. I would like to know what the weather has been like recently.

Keeping his eyes on the road, the chauffeur replied, Quite nice during the early morning, rather hot during the afternoon, and thunderstorms in late afternoon or early evening. That cools things down for a while, but it gets almost unbearably humid at times. I’m sure you’re accustomed to that, being from the South and all. There’s usually a very nice dew on the ground at daybreak. He paused to allow for further questions but, upon realizing there were none at the moment, continued, Of course, this weather is common for us this time of year.

Yes, Terence said flatly, I imagine so with it being hurricane season and all. None of those yet this year, I hope.

None, so far, the chauffer replied, but funny you should mention it. Several people have reported seeing the Grey Man in Pawley’s Island of late.

Grey Man? Faye inquired with enthusiasm and overwhelming curiosity. Who is he? She turned her attention from the window, out of which she had been watching the scenery—the quaint seaside cottages in greys and whites with beautiful flowers landscaping the grounds, the small library and town hall whose cupolas rose majestically in the sky. Every now and then she could catch a glimpse of the ocean about a block away from the main road, the white caps crashing furiously upon the beach, giving early indication that a storm was brewing.

Not a who, ma’am, but a what, the chauffeur said as he turned his head slightly over his left shoulder. I’m not familiar with the details about it, but they say he’s a ghost that warns when a hurricane is about to strike.

Ghost? Faye said, a slight chill from the suggestion running down her spine, but somehow exhilarating her mind at the excitement stemming from such a story.

Yes, the chauffeur offered, they say he wanders the beach before a storm, but like I said, I don’t know the whole story.

Interesting, Terence whispered, detracted by the story which sent a flurry of ideas racing though his mind. But you have not had such a storm yet?

No, just the usual afternoon thunderstorm. That’s usually around high tea but ends before dinner. Those storms usually come from the west, only occasionally off the ocean, but they can be as fierce as hurricanes at times, the chauffer ended with satisfaction at his dissertation.

Seeing that Terence was lost in deep thought, no doubt cleverly calculating his next seduction, Faye continued, Are there any special occasions at the hotel this week? Last time we were here I attended a marvelous fashion show. All the affluent were there from the South and from Europe, and I believe my husband played in a golf tournament with Bobby Something-or-other.

The chauffeur smiled as he listened to the question from a woman of impeccable taste and culture. We have things going on all the time. I believe there is a dance in the main ballroom tomorrow night. The Charleston Symphony will be performing its waltz concert. I’m sure you’d find that very delightful, ma’am.

Amused by the prospect of such an affair, Faye instantly decided that she and Terence would attend, even though he detested such things. It would be the ideal opportunity to catch him in the act, especially with all the fine, sophisticated women of breeding who would undoubtedly be in attendance. Yes, she must invite the Ashburns to join them as well; it would be the perfect thing for Lady Jane and would certainly impress her with the South’s culture. These affairs were always grand, especially with a group as distinguished as the Charleston Symphony from their delightful, refined neighbours to the south. Suddenly, the world appeared much brighter; the war and its devastation were relegated to another dimension of the mind. Here in the elegance of this charming, luxurious resort she found solace and peace of mind. This was just what she had needed for the longest time, and she finally realized that.

The limousine turned down a long driveway, and Faye knew immediately they were approaching the lovely circular drive at the entrance to the hotel. She leaned forward in her seat in order to look out the front window and saw the redbrick Tower, trimmed in white, of the Ocean Forest Hotel rising majestically on the horizon. The beauty of the sight took her breath momentarily, but she recovered from her schoolchild reaction and regained her composure promptly. As they turned onto the circular drive, she leaned over and gazed out her own window at the impeccably dressed bellmen, coloured of course, and the lush landscaping at the entrance. It was a relief to be at a place where she felt at ease.

After pulling to a stop immediately in front of the glass doors under the canopy, the chauffeur proceeded to open the door and assist Faye in disembarking from the automobile. He then motioned for one of the bellmen to collect the luggage from the trunk of the car while he tended to the further needs of his passengers. May I do anything else for you, ma’am? he addressed Faye as though she was the decision maker of the couple, a wise gesture on his behalf.

Faye, who had been admiring the fountain in the center of the drive and watching the flags flap brilliantly in the wind, turned and smiled at the driver. I think that should be all for now, thank you. She took a deep breath of the salty air and let the therapeutic effects massage her lungs. Terence, she commanded, "reward the gentleman for

Reviews for Murder at the Ocean Forest

[coker74 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Murder at The Ocean Forest by Robert “Digger” Cartwright was a puzzle to begin with. I had just read The Ocean Forest, a book by Troy Nooe, about a murder at the same Ocean Forest. I must admit I was somewhat confused by the two recently published books with the same story line. I live in the area and had visited the Ocean Forest before it’s destruction in the 70’s. I always have an interest in local history and I was attracted to both books for that reason. As a local resident of Myrtle Beach I enjoyed the detail about the hotel and area, but I think the average reader is going to be slowed by all the area detail, characters, hotel description, etc. It took about half the book to have the “crime” committed. I guess I want a mystery to “catch” me early on and keep my attention throughout the book. I appreciate the opportunity to read the ebook, but feel three stars is all I can give.

[kmt01_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I received this book free from Library Thing to read and review. Initially, I welcomed this book because I truly enjoy mysteries. However, as I read further and further into the book, I wondered when the mystery would start. The author describes just about everything in great detail, the characters, the hotel, the setting, their actions, etc. I wondered what his true intent was here. If it was to provide a good mystery, he definitely could have skipped a lot of the details because they didn't add that much to the story and bogged the reader down. The murder doesn't even occur until the book is half way through and even then the author continues to get caught up in all sorts of details that are not really pertinent to the murder. The main characters, a young couple who probably should not have even married, alternate between being people you would like to meet and spend time with and people you would prefer to hate and leave alone. The rest of the characters are equally both agreeable and hateful. The plot is good but is overshadowed by the minutia they author presents while setting and developing the scene. As the hotel detective delves into the murders to try to solve them, the author continues with details that are again interesting but not really germane or all that important. As I read the book, I wondered why he spent so much time on with these details. I guess a good editor would have pointed out how much they dragged on what is actually a good plot, encouraging the author to follow in the footsteps of other well known writers and write a more succinct story. If you want to really get a feel for the low country during the WWII era, this mystery will provide it for you. If you prefer not to get bogged down in a lot of detail but like a good, clean mystery, I suggest you pass on this one.

[raevon-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Murder at the Ocean Forest by Robert “Digger” CartwrightDefinitely a full length novel at 373 pages and intrigue all the way. Getting acquainted with the characters and the setting of the “scene” takes up the first 2-3 chapters and at first I found it difficult to get into the book because I don’t normally like long descriptions, however, that soon changed. I found the book very entertaining, gripping even, once I had the personalities identified and placed, and in fact hard to put down once I really got into it. The main characters pulled you in and kept you wondering; through twists and turns and just when you thought you knew what was going to happen, or who was responsible, you get side-swiped and left with clues leading in a totally different direction. I was hooked once the train arrived and the passengers arrived at the “Ocean Forest”, a resort for the “well-to-do” during the war and for those wanting to recuperate or just get away. Ulterior motives and vengeance play a large part and the author has you sitting on the edge of your “proverbial” seat until the end. The weaving of the characters’ lives together to reach the ultimate result and murder is very skilful. Set in South Carolina, America, the author portrays the etiquette and style of dress of the time so clearly, that the characters seem so real, almost as if you were actually watching them. Add a bit of mystery with a blind psychic and you have a really gripping and intriguing story. The book could use some more editing but it does not detract from the story in any way and some of it could be the use of local dialect and just my interpretations. I did enjoy the book immensely and I thank the author for the privilege of receiving a copy for review. I haven’t read any other works by the author but I will definitely keep an eye out for more. Highly recommended suspense-crime in my view.

[pegmcdaniel · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received this ebook from the author on Library Thing in exchange for a review. Thank you, Mr. Cartwright.This is a murder/mystery set on the South Carolina coast during WWII. Guests are vacationing at a ritzy resort hotel, the Ocean Forest. The author gives much detail to just about everything in the novel especially the characters, their clothing, the scenery, the hotel and its lavish decor, and a nameless hurricane churning in the Atlantic Ocean for most of the book before finally coming ashore.The head of hotel security enters the story about the middle of the novel after the first murder. From then on he is the protagonist as he tries to solve the first and additional murders. The investigation develops with lots of twists and turns.The characters are memorable since the author took the time to fully develop them. I felt as though I really knew them as the plot moved along. However, at times it was a bit too slow moving for me since I am used to most murder/mystery novels moving along at break-neck speed!Overall, Mr. Cartwright does a very nice job with this novel and I recommend it.

[lfahrenbruck · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This author provides wonderful detail about the characters as well as the scenery. He offers details into the mannerisms of the characters that many overlook. It pulls the reader into the story from the beginning. The plot is easy to follow but offers twists and turns with every page turn. I would recommend this book to anyone who likes mysteries, thrillers or a book with a well written plot!

[plappen_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a murder mystery set in World War II-era South Carolina. It is about a husband and wife who would have been better off never getting married to each other.Terence and Faye Underwood are traveling by train to the Ocean Forest, a very high-class resort right on the shore. Faye thinks that Terence is a serial adulterer, constantly looking for women with which to have illicit affairs, despite his constant protestations to the contrary. They are both members of high society, so divorce, let alone raising their voices in argument where others might hear them, is simply not an option; the scandal would be overwhelming.A few days later, Terence goes off by himself quail hunting, while Faye goes horseback riding along the beach. Several hours later, the horse returns without her. A diligent search along the beach is made, led by Feltus le Bon, the hotel detective. Faye's red scarf, along with some blood, is found near a patch of quicksand. The next day, terence is coerced into showing Feltus exactly where he was hunting. It turns out to be just a few yards from the quicksand. It would have been very easy for Terence to shoot Faye with the shotgun he was carrying, and dump her in the quicksand, freeing him to have as many illicit affairs as he can handle. Things get complicated the next morning when, serving an arrest warrant on Terence, Feltus finds him in bed, murdered.Investigating further, Feltus focuses his attention on Preacher Cooper, a priest involved in illicit activities, Elizabeth Bascomb, an elderly, blind psychic, and Lord and Lady Ashburn, visiting from England, all of whom have very good reasons for wanting Terence Underwood dead. Feltus tries several ways to ratchet up the pressure, hoping that the guilty party will crack. While all this is going on, the area is battered by a major hurricane.This is a really good mystery, but I thought that it moved too slowly. The first death does not occur until almost halfway into the book. I understand what the author was trying to do, and totally agree that not all murder mysteries have to move at breakneck speed. The author certainly knows what he is doing; I guess I would have liked it more if the first half of the story moved a little faster than it did.