Well, hell. It seemed Kellen had arrived at exactly the wrong time. “Rae’s a smart kid. Rebuilding the carburetor might get the truck running.” She honestly thought Max was going to have steam coming out his ears. “Look. All I did was find the carburetor kit in one of the drawers. Anyway, carburetor kit or not, it’s not easy to rebuild a carburetor. If you’re lucky, there’ll be instructions.”
He still looked irked.
Which made Kellen lose what was left of her patience. “And if you’d looked in the drawers—”
Max swung away, took a breath, smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “All right. You’re right. I could have looked.” He swung back toward Kellen. “Anything else I should know about in those drawers?”
Kellen lifted one shoulder. “Maybe. Why don’t you look?”
Rae had dug herself out of the depths of the F-100 and stood, head cocked, listening to them. “You two don’t fight very often.”
“No, but honey, it doesn’t mean we don’t love each other,” Max said.
“It’s okay,” Rae said. “It makes you seem almost normal.”
Almost normal? Max mouthed to Kellen.
Kellen smiled, but a little tightly. Rae was right, she and Max didn’t often fight; maybe the tension on the island was getting to them, too.
On the other hand, maybe she was angry because he had been a jerk.
Rae skipped back to the box that held the kit. “Can I open it? Can I?”
That got Max’s attention. “Wait! Rae! That’s got a lot of little parts and we need them all.”
“I’m not going to spill it.” Rae sounded irritable, too.
Kellen walked over to the wall where the mattress stood, looked at it, garish with roses, stained and dirty—and kicked the hell out of it. Front kick, side kick, left foot, right foot, turning kick, backward kick.
Dust flew.
She couldn’t keep it up; her legs trembled from the effort of running and kicking.
So she started punching, palms out, clenched fists, boom, boom, boom, knocking the stuffing out of the old mattress, and loving it.
“What’s Mommy doing?” Rae asked.
“Getting out her aggressions,” Max said.
“Practicing my fighting skills,” Kellen corrected him without a trace of a smile.
A female figure, silhouetted by the sun, stepped into the wide open doorway. “What are you people doing in here? In this garage? Why aren’t you at the house?”
Kellen recognized her by her figure, tall and curvaceous, and her attitude, hostile and all-knowing.
Rae looked up from the spark plug Max had placed in her hand. “Hi, Mrs. Conkle.” She didn’t use her usual cheerful Rae voice; in one visit, Jamie Conkle had convinced Rae to step carefully around her.
Kellen stopped pounding the mattress and walked toward Jamie. “Max and Rae are rebuilding the pickup.” She did not say, None of your business, although that was what she thought.
“Why?” Jamie held their basket of the day’s produce over her arm. “Why would you rebuild that…thing?”
“We can’t all have the talent for gardening.” Max sounded like he had his jaw clenched.
“It’s a petroleum-burning engine, the only one on the island. We don’t need that kind of environmental smog-maker here. We have the electric golf cart.” Jamie radiated indignation like a halo.
Deliberately Kellen turned the subject. “What did you bring us today?”
Jamie would not be diverted. “Really, you shouldn’t try to bring that thing back to life. The internal combustion engine is to blame for all of today’s problems.”
“That’s a sweeping statement.” Kellen put her hand on the basket’s handle.
Jamie resisted for a moment, then released and stepped back. “Rethink the truck. On Isla Paraíso, we’re saving the environment, not destroying it.”
Kellen leaned forward so she was face to face with Jamie. “We’ll worry about that when he gets it running.”
Jamie leaned back, then flounced away.
Kellen watched her go. Amazing how Jamie made her feel inferior, privileged and resentful, all at the same time.
Jamie stopped, looked up, pointed.
At the same time, Kellen heard a helicopter coming in fast and low.
Her heart started pounding. Why were they here? Was it good news at last? “Coast Guard,” she called to Max.
He extricated himself from the truck, and sounded as hopeful as she felt when he said, “My God. Do you suppose…?” He ran out.
Kellen and Rae followed. As the helicopter descended on a blast of air, Kellen absentmindedly began doing her finger exercises.
Like a hummingbird alighting on a limb, the helicopter settled on the edge of the lawn. The engine throttled back, the roar diminished, and the door opened to allow one of the Coasties to jump down. He surveyed Max, Kellen and Rae and as if he had every right, he asked, “Who are you?”
“We’re the Di Lucas. We’re living on the island for the summer,” Max said. “My family owns it.”
“Sure, I recognize you. I served with a couple of Di Lucas in San Diego.” He offered his hand. “Chief Petty Officer Juan Deung. Call me Juan.”
“Yes, we Di Lucas are a prolific and similar bunch.” Max shook hands with him.
As Max introduced Kellen and Rae, Juan offered his hand to them, too, and kept talking a mile a minute. “The Conkles used to have a radio for emergency use, but Dylan got loaded, called in and claimed there were pirates raiding the island. We arrived full force. That cost your family a bunch of money, and Jamie Conkle smashed the radio and refuses to get it fixed. So when we’re in the area, we come by to check on them, make sure they’re okay.”
“You just missed Jamie.” Kellen gestured down the hill.
“That’s fine,” Juan said in heartfelt relief. “She always lectures us about wasting the earth’s resources flying the helicopter. And because the helicopter blades might harm rare birds. It’s not like we’re out for a joy ride, you know? Some guy and his yacht have disappeared in this area. No sign of him yet, and there’s a storm out there in the Pacific churning away. Have you heard about the storm?”
“We don’t hear about much here,” Max said.
“Big storm, a typhoon right now, and some forecast models are predicting the steering currents could send it our way. No one’s getting excited yet. Except the TV weather people, because they love possible disasters. But it’s California. July storms are unlikely.”
“El Niño. Or La Niña,” Max said. “I can never can remember which is which.”
Kellen looked around at the golden landscape. “A storm wouldn’t be all bad. It’s been a dry year. We sure could use the rain.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard, but we’ve had some massive fires all over California.” Abruptly, Juan got to the point. “So…spending the summer here, huh? Why’s that?”
Max turned to Rae. “Why don’t you go talk to the pilot? I’ll bet he’s an interesting guy.”
“She,” Juan said.
Max stared hard into the helicopter, at the tinted windows that reflected the sun. “I see! Erroneous assumption. I’ll bet she’s even a more interesting woman.”
“Really, Dad.” Rae ran over to the helicopter’s open door and within a few moments of hard talking, she had been invited inside.
“While on duty, we’re not supposed to let kids in, so please keep that quiet. Now, what did you want to tell me you didn’t want her to know?” Juan was one observant guy.
Max and Kellen exchanged glances.
Kellen took a step back.
Max would do the talking. “We’re on the island because we’re having trouble with a stalker.”
“Must be quite a stalker for you to come out this far.”
“She’s an escaped convict,
a serial killer.”
Juan’s eyes narrowed. “Female serial killer? Not too many of those. Is this the one we’re supposed to keep an eye out for?”
“Mara Philippi. One and the same.”
“Bad news. Did you know she’s killed people all over the US? When she does, she cuts off their hands and collects them as souvenirs?” Juan looked right at Kellen. “She dehydrates them.”
“We did know,” Max said. “We knew her before she went to prison.”
“Lucky you.” Juan was impressed. “Did you know after she escaped from federal prison, she had one guy exhumed so she could cut off his hands? Some kind of revenge thing.” Juan made a choking sound.
It wasn’t as if any of this was news to Kellen, but—she tried not to think about it. Now, in the face of Juan’s incredulous recitation, she began to feel frightened.
Max glanced at her. “We really do know all about Mara Philippi. We were instrumental in her capture the first time.”
“Scary, scary woman.” Juan looked toward the Coast Guard helicopter where Rae had hopped down, still talking to the pilot. “Is this Philippi person after the kid, too?”
“Mostly after my wife.” Kellen must have looked panicky, because Max reached back, wrapped his arm around her waist, and gave her his support. “But yes. Given the chance, she would kill us all.”
Kellen leaned against him and wished Juan would stop talking.
Max said, “When you landed that Coast Guard helicopter, I was really hoping—”
Kellen corrected him. “We were really hoping—”
Max nodded. “We were really hoping you were here to tell us she’d been caught.”
“I’m sorry.” Juan looked like he meant it. “I didn’t know anything about you being out here or that that female killer was in the area.”
“Possibly in the area,” Max said.
“I assume Commander is aware, and everyone else is on a need-to-know basis.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ll talk to my pilot, tell her we never saw you.”
“That would be much appreciated.”
“You do have a way to defend yourselves?” Juan asked.
“We do,” Max said.
The guns in the gun safe. Remembering them made the constriction in Kellen’s throat ease.
“You do have a method of communication? In the R44? In case there’s trouble?” Juan indicated their helicopter on the other end of the lawn. “That radio works, right?”
“I check in with my law enforcement contacts once a week,” Max told him.
As Rae ran up, Juan said, “Here she is! Rae, did Carmen convince you to join the Coast Guard?”
“It’s a great job for a woman,” Rae said. “Being a Coast Guard pilot is one of the coolest jobs around.”
Juan laughed. “I knew she would sell you. Carmen would be fantastic in a recruiting office—but she won’t leave the pilot’s seat. Hey, next time we come, I hope we have better news for you all.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Max looked around at Kellen and Rae, and at the island grasses waving in the salty breeze.
Kellen spoke up. “Yes, family is a blessing, and lately we have been very blessed.”
“I hear you.” Juan headed for the helicopter. “I grew up with five brothers. That’s how I learned to dance—waiting for the bathroom.”
19
Kellen started her half hour of piano practice. Her musical ability hadn’t improved, but the way her hands responded to her command was better, especially her right hand. Really, measurably better.
Yet Luna didn’t seem to notice any improvement. Ten minutes into the practice, the dog began to moan, and then to howl. She was obviously in pain with the awfulness of Kellen’s music, and she wanted the world to know.
Kellen paused. “I’m doing my best!”
Rae jumped up. “Mom! I’m going to ride my bike. I’ll take Luna.”
Luna hopped up, too, and wagged her tail.
Kellen’s hands stilled on the piano keys. She looked at her daughter, fresh-faced and excited—and taller. Visibly taller. The scabs on her face hadn’t healed yet, and she had a pimple on her nose and one on her forehead. She was growing up too fast—yet she was still a child, all unknowing of the dangers out there lying in wait. Of Mara.
This morning Juan, with his awed and horrified narration of Mara’s heinous crimes, had brought Kellen’s fears surging back. “Where are you going?”
Rae looked startled. “I dunno. Just riding.”
“I don’t think you should ride by yourself.”
“I’m not. I’m going with Luna. Anyway, what difference does it make?” She got a petulant tone in her voice. “There’s no place to go.”
“You could get hurt.”
“How?”
“You could fall again.”
“Big deal. I’ve fallen before.”
“And it was a big deal!” Maybe Kellen was a little too sharp.
Because Rae was sharp back. “Dad made me promise not to perform jumps unless he’s there.”
“There are cliffs.” Kellen was groping now, fighting panic and the desire to say, There’s a maniac killer out there.
“Do you mean I’m so dumb I’m going to ride my bike off a cliff? Come on.” Rae’s eyes flashed with hurt and anger. “Give me some credit!”
Luna lay back down, put her head on her paws, and watched as if she was following a particularly tense tennis game.
“I don’t mean that. I just mean…” Kellen couldn’t say what she meant. She couldn’t say she was afraid Mara Philippi would come to get Rae. Kellen couldn’t say she felt incompetent, so lousy at piano the dog had to howl, and carrying a load of guilt that her daughter was stuck on this island without friends or family.
What was it that Max had told Juan? Mara’s mostly after my wife. In a twisted, terrible way, this exile was her fault.
“Look. I’ll ride down to the Conkles’ and pick up some more lettuce for dinner. Olympia said she didn’t get quite enough this morning. Is that safe enough?” Rae had her hand on her nonexistent hip.
“I… I guess. But it’s five miles. Luna can’t run that far.”
“No, I suppose not.” Rae knelt beside Luna. “Can you stay here with Mom? I know the music is awful, but she’s halfway done.”
That wasn’t what Kellen intended at all. “Rae, no, don’t—” Please take the dog. She’ll protect you!
But suddenly, Kellen couldn’t speak. Tension froze her throat, her vocal chords.
“Mom?” Rae ran over. “What’s wrong?”
Kellen couldn’t breathe.
“Mom?”
That was the last thing Kellen heard until she opened her eyes. She was stretched out on the living room floor on the antique rug…that had a red stain on the ivory background. She put her hand to her cheek and pulled it away, smeared with blood.
Max knelt beside her. “Kellen? Kellen? What happened?”
“I… I couldn’t breathe. I guess I passed out.” Kellen kept staring at the smear on her palm. “What did I do?”
“You hit the coffee table with your face.” Max helped her sit up. “Thank God, it’s just a little cut. Rae, would you get us a damp towel?”
Rae stomped out of the living room.
“Is this the same as the aphasia?” Max asked Kellen.
“No, I’m not forgetting the words. Everything freezes: my chest, my throat, my vocal chords. I can’t breathe.”
Rae returned with a towel so wet it dripped all the way across the floor.
“Rae! We want to wipe off Mommy’s face, not give her a bath.” Max sounded exasperated. “Go wring it out.”
Rae sighed violently and stomped out again.
Max returned his attention to Kellen. “It’s happened before
?”
“Yes, but never like that, where I black out.”
He was on his feet in an instant. “I’ve got to call the doctor.”
“No.” Kellen lunged, grabbed his leg. “You can’t. Literally, you can’t.”
“I can call from the helicopter. I can take you to the hospital. I will! You could die.”
“What I really need right now is an ice bag and that damp dish towel to wipe my face.”
“Rae!” Max yelled. “Hurry up!” Then he couldn’t wait, and headed into the kitchen himself.
Kellen heard him scolding Rae, and he was back in less than a minute with an ice bag wrapped in a dish towel and another damp dish towel.
As he knelt beside her to clean her face, she looked him in the eyes. “After all I’ve been through, I’m not going to die from this. I spoke to the doctor.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because there’s no reason to worry. She said it’s not surprising, given the stresses of relearning so much, that the most valuable asset I have, my words, should sometimes choke me.” Kellen took the ice bag and gingerly pressed it on her face. “She gave me relaxation exercises to do.”
“You should do them!”
“I am!”
“I haven’t seen you!”
Kellen took a long, calming breath. “There. You just saw me do one.”
Max stared as if he didn’t understand.
Patiently she explained, “Relaxation exercises aren’t like punching a bag. They’re mostly just breathing. Meditation. You’ve seen me meditate.”
“It’s not working!”
“It’s like the piano. I’m not good at them yet, but as long as I practice every day, I will get better—am getting better. I know that Rae and Luna don’t think so, but—”
In the kitchen, the back door slammed.
Kellen looked around. Luna wandered in looking desolate. “Where’s Rae?” she asked the dog.
Max strode to the front window and looked out. “She’s going for a bike ride.”
Kellen pushed herself to her feet. “She’s not supposed to. That’s what we were fighting about.”
“Why? Where’s she going?”
“She wanted to ride down to the Conkles’ to pick up the vegetables for tonight’s dinner.” Kellen joined him at the window and watched her little girl ride out of sight.
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