Shadows Over Collinsport 3:
We Share the Moonlight in Our Blood
(A Dark Shadows/Yu-Gi-Oh Crossover)
By Lucidscreamer
(1)
Ryou hadn't known what to expect when he received the invitation to Collinwood, the great estate on the hill overlooking the town of Collinsport. It was clear that the Collins family had played a big part in the history of this part of Maine - their name was everywhere, though the family itself was apparently in decline, its remaining members reclusive and aloof. He was twenty-one years old, and this note (handwritten on thick, expensive stationary and left for him at the front desk) was the first contact he'd had with any member of his mother's family.
Turning the cream colored paper over in his hands, he unfolded the note and read it for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. It was a few simple sentences requesting his attendance for luncheon (and seeing that word rather than the more casual "lunch" still made his mouth twist in an expression that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a smirk or a frown) today at 1 p.m., at the grand estate. It was signed simply "Quentin Collins."
The note had arrived an hour ago, shortly after Ryou had dragged himself from his bed at the Collinsport Inn, and he still hadn't made up his mind whether he was going to accept the invitation.
On the one hand, his curiosity was piqued and he was interested in seeing the house where his mother had spent a part of her childhood. The other hand held his reservations: he literally knew no one in this place and would be walking cold into a situation where he didn't know what was expected of him or what might happen. He was probably being too paranoid for the circumstances, but if life in Domino City had taught him anything, it was that you should never take things at face value. If a children's card game could nearly kill you, who knew what might happen at a "luncheon" in an isolated house with perfect strangers?
He sighed, turning the note over again. There were no instructions for getting to Collinwood; Quentin probably presumed that anyone in town could give Ryou directions to the estate. No doubt he was right. Ryou could ask at the front desk or at the diner... or most likely any random passerby on the street could tell him how to get there. If he decided to go. Which he hadn't, not yet.
Rising to his feet, he stuffed the note into his pocket and reached for his lightweight jacket. He would go and find something for breakfast first. Maybe by the time he had finished his second cup of tea he would have made up his mind if he was going to ask someone how to get to Collinwood.
o0o
Leaving the inn, Ryou strolled around town and took in the sights that Collinsport had to offer. It was built right on the water and its history as a port town was obvious. Down by the docks, he could see fishing boats heading out to sea beneath a brightening sky. There was a cannery in the distance (it, too, bore the name "Collins" on the side of the massive building that housed the factory). The air was sharp and crisp, and smelled faintly of the sea.
The inn-keeper had given Ryou directions to a nearby diner, within easy walking distance. He turned his steps in that direction and some came upon a quaint, low building with white painted walls and cheerily painted flowerboxes that now held only straggly weeds. He went inside.
He wouldn't have called the diner crowded, but there were a surprising number of people sitting at the counter and at a few of the tables for such an early hour. Most of the heads turned to watch the stranger walk up to the counter.
A dark-haired woman greeted him with the kind of smile all good waitresses seemed to know. "Good morning. Would you like to see a menu?"
"Yes, thank you. And a cup of tea, if you have it."
"Sure." She placed a menu on the counter and then bustled off to fuss with the hot water and tea bags. When she returned, she set a steaming white mug in front of him. "Sugar and sweetener's in the caddy. Anything else? We don't get a lot of call for hot tea."
"Oh, um. Some milk?" He went back to reading the menu. By the time she returned with a small carton of milk, he had decided on pancakes and a side of bacon.
The breakfast turned out to be quite good, and he thanked the waitress with a smile when she stopped to offer him more tea. "No problem, hun. Can I get you anything else?"
"Directions to Collinwood?"
The smile slid off her face. "Why would you want to go up there?"
"Oh, um." He cast around for an excuse, not having expected the veiled hostility. "Just curious. I hear the house is very impressive."
"Sure, if you like that sort of thing." Her tone implied that she didn't, and didn't understand anyone who did. "It's big, anyway. Kind of creepy, if you ask me."
"Nobody asked ya, Darla." The gray-haired man two stools down from Ryou's waggled his coffee cup at her. "How 'bout ya quit bumpin' yer gums and gimme a refill?"
Darla rolled her eyes, but retrieved the coffee pot and refilled his cup. "You ever been up to Collinwood, Marty?"
"Nah, got no call to be goin' up there." He stirred creamer into his coffee. "Never wanted to, neither."
"Do you know the Collins family?" Ryou asked, directing the question to the room at large and hoping someone would answer.
"Seen 'em around town, like anybody else," Marty said, waving one wrinkled hand dismissively. "My sister used to know someone who worked for 'em, was their housekeeper for years."
Darla frowned. "You never told me that."
"Was you wantin' to know?" Marty slurped his coffee. "Don't see as it matters, she passed on awhile back."
"Oh, you mean Mrs. Johnson!" Darla nodded. "Yeah, I remember my mom saying she used to talk to her sometimes. Not much, though. I think she must've been real secretive about the Collinses."
"The kinda things they supposedly get up to, wouldn't surprise me."
That piqued Ryou's interest. "What sort of things?"
Marty squinted at him. "You new in town, son?"
"Yes." He leaned toward the older man, trying to project innocent curiosity. "What sort of things were you talking about?"
"Oh, the usual things rich folk with too much time on their hands and not enough sense get up to."
Darla snickered. "Cheating on their spouses, the occasional love-child, arsenic in the morning coffee."
"You think you're jokin'," Marty said, shaking his head. "Don't suppose you remember the time ol' Roger Collins drove his car off the damn cliff. Sure, the man liked to drink, but there were rumors someone cut his brake-line."
Both Darla and Ryou gaped at him. Darla recovered first. "Are you saying someone tried to murder Roger Collins?"
Marty shrugged, and made an elaborately casual show of drinking his coffee. Assured he had their full attention, he said, "That wasn't the only time somebody nearly died - or full-out did die! - at Collinwood."
"Now you're the one whose joking!" Darla said.
"Nope. The stories I could tell ya..." Marty glanced at the clock above the beverage station behind her and slugged back the last of his coffee. "Some other time, though. I gotta hit the road. See ya tomorrow, Darla."
"Sure, Marty."
Ryou watched the old man leave. When he looked around, he saw that most of the other diner patrons had finished their meals and left, leaving him alone with Darla and one other, a well-dressed woman seated in a booth by the window. The woman looked up from the book she was reading and favored him with a raised eyebrow. Ryou looked hurriedly away.
Darla smirked at him. "You here alone? In town, I mean."
"Yes. I'm, um... I came to visit my mother's grave. She's buried in Eagle Hill Cemetery."
"Oh! I'm so sorry-"
"It's all right." Ryou pretended his tea needed more milk. "It's been years since she died. I just... never got the chance to visit until now."
"Here, let me get you some more tea." Darla bustled off to the beverage station and came back in a few minutes with a fresh mug. "Here you go, hun."
"Thank you." He took it just to be polite. "Can you give me directions to Collinwood? I really would love to see it. My mother told me a bit about it when I was younger."
"She was from Collinsport?"
"She lived here for a time, when she was a girl."
Humming a bit under her breath, Darla picked up a cloth and wiped the counter. "I guess it won't hurt anything. Just don't expect the family to take you in for a tour. The Collinses keep to themselves."
He smiled. "Of course."
o0o
Armed with the map that Darla had drawn for him on a paper napkin, Ryou stepped back out into the sunshine. The cool air had warmed a bit while he was in the diner, but was still brisk enough to make him glad for his jacket and the knitted scarf that he wrapped around his neck. He let his touch linger on the scarf, feeling the uneven stitches and remembering when Amane had given it to him. It was her first knitting project and she had been extremely proud of her accomplishment. His heart ached whenever he thought about the sweater she had been working on when she died, a far more complex project that now would never be finished.
He had made it only as far as the shop next door to the diner when he heard someone calling out behind him. Turning, he saw that it was the woman from the diner, her book tucked under one arm as she waved to him.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
She smiled as she caught up to him. "I believe it is I who may be able to assist you, young man."
His eyebrows shot up. "Oh?"
"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation before." Her pale eyes were considering as she studied him. "You're interested in the Collins family?"
"I might be."
"Then, I might be able to tell you about them." She gestured for him to follow as she resumed walking and, after a slight hesitation, he did.
"Do you know the family well?"
"You could say that," she said, with a subtle laugh. The sunlight caught the edges of her blonde hair, framing her face in a golden halo. "I've known them for many years. But I don't know you at all, Mister-?"
"Oh, how rude of me for not introducing myself. I'm Ryou Bakura."
"I think we shall become great friends, Ryou." She smiled again, bright and sharp. "You may call me Angelique."