Three flashes across the water
From her kitchen window, Tess could see the abandoned lighthouse whenever fog lifted from the inlet. Its electricity had been disconnected before she moved to Gull Point. That was why she noticed a light in the lantern room on a wet Tuesday evening. It blinked three times, went dark, then blinked once. Tess lowered the mug she had been drying and waited. Nothing followed.
Her father had maintained the tower before it closed. As a child, she had watched him test lamps from the far side of the water, using a hand torch to tell a colleague that he was ready. On an impulse she took the torch from the cupboard, stepped onto the porch and repeated the old family signal: two quick flashes, a pause, then one. Across the inlet, the tower answered with the same pattern.
Tess called the harbor office. The duty manager confirmed that nobody was scheduled to work there, and the footbridge to the point was closed pending repairs. He asked her to stay where she was while he contacted the caretaker. She did. In the window behind her, the kitchen looked suddenly bright and exposed. When the phone rang again, the manager had a question. Had her father ever mentioned a second way into the tower? Tess looked at the tide chart pinned beside the door.