Excerpt of Dearly Beloved by Wendy Corsi Staub

Chapter One

The ferry isn't yet a far-off speck on the dusky horizon, but he knows it's there, cutting toward Tide Island through the choppy gray waters off the New England coast. Complete darkness will fall well before it docks at the landing down the road to release its load of weekend passengers.

In summer, the Friday-night ferry is always crowded with commuting husbands and vacationing families, college students who work as weekend waiters or lifeguards, couples in love, sticky-faced children.

But now, in the shortest month of the year, when winter is at its bleakest and the island offers nothing but silent, chilly isolation, there won't be many people on board. Just the few hardy nature-lovin’ souls willing to brave the elements; perhaps some island-dwellers returning with groceries from the mainland; maybe a handful of slimmer house owners coming out to inspect the damage December's Nor'easter inflicted upon their property.

That's about it.

Except for them.

He knows they're on board--all three of them. Still strangers to each other, but not to him.

He has been watching them for so long now.

Waiting.

A quiver of anticipation passes over him and he cautions himself to relax. He has to maintain control at all times. He can't afford to take any risks at this point, just when it's all coming together at last.

After all these years...

Soon enough, he assures himself. It won 7 be long now. He casts his gaze back out over the water, giddy with excitement. He'd heard on the radio a little while ago that there's a growing likelihood this weekend might be stormy.

Wouldn't that be perfect?

Even at this moment, they're probably enjoying the brisk twilight ride. He pictures them scattered in different corners of the deck or cabin, lost in their own thoughts, thinking about the weekend ahead, filled with excited expectations.

They aren't the only ones who are looking forward to it.

His features twist with mirth, and he stifles a giggle.

Very, very soon.

He lets the filmy lace curtain drop back into place and turns away from the window.

He still has a lot to do before they arrive.

As the ferry leaves Crosswinds Bay and heads out into the open Atlantic, Jennie turns her face into the cold, salty wind and smiles.

What a relief to be leaving everything behind, if only for a few days. Already, she can feel the chronic tension starting to loosen its grip on her body. She takes a deep breath of the sea air and lets it out on a satisfying sigh.

By the time she reached the ferry terminal twenty minutes ago, her jaw ached from clenching and her neck and back muscles had been a jumble of stress knots.

Knowing Friday night traffic out of Boston was always bad, she'd left at three o'clock to heat it. Unfortunately, a jackknifed Tractor-trailer had rammed into a car on 1-95 and brought her to a standstill by three-fifteen. And she'd lost an hour by the time she'd managed to creep by the accident scene, ducking her head after a fleeting glimpse of emergency vehicles with their flashing red lights.

Spinning domed lights--and sirens--bring her back to that awful day three years ago.

So does the sight of blood, no matter how scant. Just two days ago, she'd cut her finger on a paring knife and found herself still trembling uncontrollably a half hour later.

Today, she had struggled to shake the disturbing memoties from her mind and concentrate on the road. She really had to step on it to make the five o'clock ferry from Crosswinds Bay on Rhode Island's southwestern coast.

As a rule, she hardly ever went more than five miles above the speed limit, but she didn't really have a choice if she wanted to get away for the weekend. And she was determined to do that.

The cozy Bramble Rose Inn seemed to beckon silently from miles away, promising refuge. She couldn't miss the ferry-- it was the last one tonight. She was willing to risk a speeding ticket to catch it.

Besides, everyone else on the road seemed to he flying by at eighty miles an hour anyway. Jennie had slid her small red Hyundai out into the passing lane and let the speedometer climb to seventy.

Just past Providence, she was stopped by a humorless trooper who promptly slapped her with a speeding ticket.

Now, shaking her head at the thought of having to part with a precious fifty dollars to pay the fine, she pulls her black leather gloves out of the bag at her feet and slips them over her winter-chapped hands. It's freezing on the deck, but she doesn't want to go inside yet.

There's something cleansing about standing out here with the fresh, fishy air whipping through her hair and stinging her cheeks so that they feel swollen. A bell clangs on the bridge somewhere above her, bidding a hollow farewell to the shore they are rapidly leaving behind.

"Excuse me, do you know what time it is?"

Jennie turns toward the voice. A young woman stands behind her, clutching the railing with one hand to keep her balance as the boat rolls over the waves. She's so bundled in a parka and scarf that all that's visible is a pair of pretty brown eyes and a snub nose that looks bright red from the frosty air.

Jennie pushes her glove up her wrist and peeks at her watch. "It's almost a quarter after six." She practically has to shout to be heard over the wind end crashing waves.

“Thanks. Do you know when the ferry is supposed to get in?"

"I think at around seven-thirty. At least, that's what the schedule said."

"Good. I'm starving."

"Me, too." Jennie remembers that she hasn't eaten since the half a blueberry muffin from Dunkin' Donuts that she'd gulped down lids morning in the car on the way to work. She'd been too busy trying to wrap things up and make an early getaway to even think about lunch.

The other woman reaches into her pocket end produces a fat- free granola bar in one fuzzy-mittened hand. "Want half? It'll fide you over."

Jennie hesitates. "Oh, that's all right, you don't have to- -"

Abruptly, the woman snaps the bar in two and hands one piece to Jennie with a grin. ``Here. I'd feel guilty gobbling the whole thing down myself. Besides, I'm on a diet."

"Thanks," Jenny says.

"Don't look so grateful. It's fat free end it tastes like cardboard, so I'm not being as generous as you think."

Jennie smiles back at her end clumsily pushes the bar up through the torn wrapper with gloved fingers before taking a bite.