The drinking might explain some of the holes in her memory, but not complete amnesia. She didn't know how that could have happened. A nervous breakdown in the wake of Fitzgerald's death maybe. That might explain her crazy dream too. Once she settled things with Veronica then she could lie on a couch to tell a shrink all about it.

By mid-afternoon she arrived in Seabrooke. Tourists walked along the idyllic Main Street with shopping bags packed full of trinkets. Children frolicked in packs, some on bikes and others not. The entire place was like a brochure come to life, unaware of the storm blowing in from the west.

She cruised along Main Street, looking in the various shop windows in case Veronica was already here. Not seeing her quarry, she searched for a place to buy the supplies she needed. She followed the road downhill almost to the docks, stopping at a place called New Beginnings Antiques.

A bell rang when she opened the door. Inside looked as though someone's garage had exploded. Old clothes, appliances, books, and knickknacks were spread about the shelves with no organization. In a glass case at the back of the store she found rows of broaches, necklaces, rings, and even war medals. None of these items she needed.

"Can I help you?" a woman called out. Samantha turned around to find a woman about her age in a ratty brown sweater and a pair of reading glasses standing behind her.

"I'm looking for a pair of binoculars," she said.

"Binoculars? I think I have some around here. Going to do some sightseeing?"

"Yes. It really is beautiful up here."

"First timer, huh?"

"You could say that." She followed the woman around the store, watching her dig through piles of old clothes and mismatched kitchen utensils. Among a bin of hubcaps she pulled out an olive green case.

Inside the case was a pair of army field glasses dating from before she was born. "World War II?" she asked.

"Yes. From the estate of Mr. Gray. He was a part of the Normandy invasion."

"He probably had these on him," Samantha said. She looked through the glasses, bringing them into focus so that she could see the distant neon sign of a tavern. "These should work. How much do you want for them?"

"I'd say fifty is more than fair." Samantha handed the money to her. "Anything else you need?"

Samantha looked around the shop. On a table, beneath old table napkins, she found a piece of green camouflage netting. "Korea," she said. "For a sniper, right?"

"You know your military antiques."

"My father was in the military," Samantha said. Something told her this was not true. Most likely her years in the Bureau had led her to study such things.




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