WHEN SHE FINALLY tore herself away from Benno’s Place, Sydney realized how drawn she was to its proprietor. His hard good looks were difficult to ignore, as Poppy had pointed out. And more than that, she recognized within him a kindness and generosity of spirit that few people she was acquainted with possessed.
Best of all, he made her feel.
And yet, the knowledge that Benno lit a spark of life within her made Sydney as edgy and troubled as had their conversation on the beach. What in the world was she thinking of to be so interested in yet another man when her husband was barely cold?
If he were indeed dead – she couldn’t quite forget the notion that Kenneth might be alive.
Mind churning, Sydney wished she could trust her so-called gifts, even though she’d gone to such lengths to rid herself of the traits that made her different. Too much had happened in the last weeks to ignore. The dreams, the visions...
How could she know what to believe when she’d been under so much stress that she’d walked away from a career it had taken her ten years to build?
There were times when she could barely tell reality from dream anymore. She was tired, and not only in body but in spirit. So tired.
Like last night when she’d imagined she’d found her wedding ring on the night stand.
The ring.
Closing her eyes, Sydney stopped for a moment and concentrated on the events of the night before. The fuzzy memory solidified. She could feel the gold’s weight, the outer nugget texture, the engraving within the band. That had all been real, hadn’t it? Thinking hard, she remembered clasping the symbol of her marriage in her palm. Then Benno had entered the room. The way he’d come up behind her on the deck had startled her. She’d lost her balance, and the ring had gone flying...
If the ring had, indeed, existed.
Eyes opening, Sydney suddenly realized she was standing in front of the house, in the middle of the empty driveway. Martha hadn’t returned. She was alone on the property. Why not check for herself?
Wandering around to the back of the house, she stopped below her balcony in a shady area nearly free of grass. The sun was setting, its thin beams squeezing through the copse of trees behind her. Still, enough daylight remained to see clearly. If she had really dropped the ring in the area, she would find it.
After gauging the trajectory of a small object flying from the balcony, she backed up a few yards. While the day’s warmth had hardened the earth, the soil was still damp from days of rain. On the ground were a man’s footprints... and a couple of cigarette stubs. She bent to pick one up and her heart began to pound. Thin and dark brown, this was a remainder of the type of cigarette Kenneth smoked.
Nothing unusual about finding them on his own property, she told herself.
Reminded of her short-lived marriage, Sydney squeezed her eyes tight against the threat of tears. Once she got herself under control, she continued her search half-heartedly. More footprints led off into a wooded area, punctuated by another cigarette butt on the trail.
She returned to the original spot and stared up at the perfect view of the balcony and windowed doors. What fascination had Kenneth had with the guest bedroom?
Sydney rubbed her arms as a chill shot through her and her head went light, a forewarning of sorts. Determined to nip the coming ordeal in the bud – to leave – she stopped as a last ray of light beamed through the trees to fall at her feet. Her gaze followed the ray to its end where a glimmer caught her eye.
The ring?
Sydney bent to retrieve the object but was disappointed when she rose with the piece in hand.
Not a ring, but a coin.
An arcade token, she corrected as she inspected the round metal piece more carefully. The imprint was distinctive. A seagull in flight on one side, a boardwalk on the other.
What in the world would an arcade coin be doing on the property?