The Wicked Prince

by Nicole Burnham

  “We’re going last because St. Augustine’s is the closest evacuation site,” Sam told Remy, gesturing toward the mountain behind the shelter, where the church stood. “But since you let me help with our team’s banner, I agree with you that it’s the best.”

  “I love that it’s a rainbow made of everyone’s handprints,” Frannie said as she moved to walk beside Remy and Naomi. “It’ll be a nice keepsake to hang in the classroom when everyone returns.”

  Remy beamed. “It was my idea. I didn’t think anyone would like it.”

  “But they did.”

  “Yep!”

  Beside Remy, Naomi nodded and smiled. Frannie’s insides knotted at the sight. Frannie returned Naomi’s smile, but only for a moment before she looked away. She didn’t want Naomi to see the tears that sprung to her eyes at the sight of the little girl’s mouth curved into a happy grin.

  In all her time at the shelter, Frannie had never seen Naomi smile like that. Before, it’d only been at celebrations, like when the kitchen staff brought out cake for a birthday and everyone sang. Occasions where everyone wore at least a polite smile.

  This smile came from the heart. From a place of joy.

  She felt Alessandro’s presence before she turned and saw him walking behind her. He wore the same cargo pants and light shirt as the day he’d arrived. Like that day, he also carried his backpack slung over both shoulders.

  “You look ready to go,” she told him.

  He nodded, then slowed his pace in a manner that hinted that he wished for Frannie to walk beside him, out of earshot of the kids.

  “Naomi smiled at you.”

  There was a tenderness in Alessandro’s voice that brought tears to the surface once more. She fought them back and said, “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me. There’s hope.”

  Alessandro’s gaze went to Naomi, who walked next to Remy. “There’s always hope. Speaking of which” —he turned his attention to Frannie— “you can still evacuate with us. Call Joe, let him know, then hop in my car. You’d have to sit with a kid in your lap, but it’s not far.”

  “You know what I’m going to say.”

  “I do.” He stopped walking, compelling her to stop, as well. “I don’t like it. It makes me sick inside. Promise me you’ll come to the church if the forecast worsens. If you can’t reach Joe, call the church. I’ll come get you.”

  “There’s no need to worry. I’ll use good judgment and will keep in touch with all four shelters and with Joe.”

  His features tightened. “Frannie.”

  She knew what he wanted to hear. “I promise.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, kissed her roughly on the temple, then strode to through the compound’s gates to where Chloe and Sam stood with the final group of kids, waving to the cars that were pulling up to the shelter.

  Frannie exhaled. Realizing her hands were shaking, she jammed them into the front pockets of her shorts before walking to the gates. As she had with the earlier groups, she walked to the front vehicle—in this case, it was Tommy’s truck with Sam behind the wheel—told them to have a good time, then sent them off with a wave to the kids. She didn’t look directly at Alessandro, who drove in the car behind Sam.

  Chloe paused and rolled down her window when she came alongside Frannie. “You have everything you need in the office?”

  “I do. Everything’s locked down and the weather report hasn’t changed since this morning. I’ll be fine.”

  Chloe gave Frannie a thumbs-up, then turned on the car radio. As Chloe pulled away, Frannie heard the kids singing. She waved until the car rounded a corner, then walked into the compound. She closed the gate, then flipped the bar to secure it on the inside, just as she did each night when darkness fell.

  When she reached the door to her office, Frannie turned and looked across the silent compound. Storm shutters or boards covered every window. Where the volleyball net usually stood, there remained two holes for the posts and the traced outline of the court. The gazebo was empty, the courtyard trash cans removed. Every door was closed and locked. Behind the bunkhouse, the transplanted palm trees flexed with the wind, their fronds waving at the clouds that rolled overhead. Even the chatter of Kilakuru’s birds had ceased, as if they, too, had taken cover in advance of the storm.

  It was the most alone Frannie had felt in her life.

  Chapter 16

  Frannie barely heard the phone over the music blaring in her office.

  She shoved the pile of papers she held in her lap to the side, then rose from where she sat cross-legged on the floor to click off the music before she grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  Joe’s familiar voice came over the line, first with the usual greeting, then, “You been watching the weather?”

  She glanced at her computer screen, where the latest radar images appeared. “Have it open on my desk right now. Lost Internet for a while this afternoon, but it’s back now.”

  Now that evening was falling, the storm looked like a giant pinwheel, taking up most of her screen. One edge obliterated the view of Kilakuru; only text on the screen and a dotted outline made the island’s location apparent. “If it goes out, I’ll turn on the emergency radio, though I can tell just as much from listening.”

  “The wind is deafening here at the station. The chief just called us in from patrol to keep from getting blown off the roads.” She heard voices near Joe, then Joe said something to another officer before he came back on the line. “Our last car is on its way to the station now. Want me to have them swing by and get you, or are you good?”

  “The wind hasn’t damaged the shelter at this point and high tide isn’t until morning, so I’m good. I’ve spent the evening cleaning out my office. I don’t get the opportunity to do that with fifty-plus kids running around.” It also took her mind off being alone…and off Alessandro.

  Joe’s booming laugh made her smile. “I figured you’d opt to stay put. Everything looked solid when I drove by the gate about an hour ago. And I’m not at all surprised that you’re cleaning your way through the storm.”

  “If your office had as much filing to do as mine does, you’d clean, too.”

  “Probably.” There was more noise on the other end of the line, then Joe said, “Chief says that the cell service is out over most of the island. It’ll probably disturb your beauty sleep, but given the spotty Internet and electricity, I’m going to call your landline every hour to check in. I want to make sure you’re up to date on the tide reports. If you don’t get a call, it means the phone lines are out. If it’s safe enough to drive, assume I’m coming to transport you to the church or the station. I don’t like the idea of having you there with no communication.”

  “Understood, but don’t take any risks. I doubt the tide will come this far inland.”

  Joe agreed, then promised to call again in an hour.

  Frannie took the opportunity to open the office door and peek outside. As the door swung on its hinges, a wet, broken palm frond hit Frannie’s legs, then blew across the empty courtyard. The sky, darkened to an ominous gray despite the fact it was only six p.m., spit water sideways, dampening her cheeks. She shielded her eyes to get a better look at the buildings. The edges of the gazebo’s grass roof lifted in the harsh wind, but the roof itself remained tight. All else remained still and solid in the face of the storm. No boards appeared loose, no doors popped open. Beyond the compound, only the treetops at the very bottom of the hillside remained visible, their fronds whipping back and forth. The rest of the hill and the church were lost in a dense fog.

  She shut the door, then flipped the deadbolt to ensure it stayed closed. “Well, now we’re in for good,” she said to the empty room. After one more glance at the radar and a few clicks to read the latest update on the tide, Frannie called each of the evacuation locations to check on the kids. Confident all was well, she turned on the music and settled in to finish her filing. It wasn’t her practice to keep the volume so high, bu
t it was the only way to hear the lyrics over the howling outside.

  She’d just answered the ten p.m. check-in call from Joe and placed the last of the kids’ updated health forms into the appropriate folders when the overhead bulb flashed once, twice, then the room went dark and the music cut.

  She looked at the ceiling and saw nothing but black. “You had to do that at the very moment I finished, didn’t you?”

  She’d expected to lose electricity, but stupidly left the flashlight out of reach on the desk. Extending her hands in front of her to keep from crashing into her chair, she crawled across the office. The combination of the wind and rain pounding against the storm shutters and door gave Frannie the impression of being trapped in the pitch-black belly of a ship. Her fingers connected with a desk drawer and she rose slowly, then felt around the top of the desk. She could only imagine how loud the wind would get; the storm wasn’t due to peak until midmorning.

  Before she could wrap her hand around the flashlight, the generator kicked in, illuminating the lone overhead bulb. She sent a quick thank you skyward for the generator’s efficiency, then turned on the computer. Once she confirmed that the Internet was out, she powered down, unplugged the computer, then switched off the outside lights. The less work the generator had to do, the better. After doing a last pass through the office to ensure everything was clean, she opened the supply cabinet to grab the emergency radio. Might as well take it to her room and get some sleep while she could.

  Tomorrow morning, she decided, she’d tackle the supply cabinet. She’d been so busy the past few weeks that speed had trumped neatness while shelving inventory. Between her regular shipment and the boxes from Alessandro, the cabinet was filled to capacity.

  “It’s a good problem to have, Frannie,” she mumbled to herself as she moved a box of expense forms to search for the radio. She searched shelf by shelf, shoving aside binder clips, reams of paper, and other office supplies. When she came to the Scotch, she took out the bottles and set them on the floor, then felt around the back of the cabinet until, at long last, she located the radio. She reached for the bottles, then realized she’d only taken five from the cabinet…yet she hadn’t seen or felt the sixth.

  Crouching, she took a long look at the contents of the shelf that held the Scotch. No sixth bottle.

  “No way,” she muttered. “No way did you take one.”

  After the heartfelt conversation they’d had that night, she couldn’t envision Alessandro breaking the rules. It went against everything she’d discovered about him…against everything she’d tried to convince him were his best qualities.

  She located the radio, replaced the bottles, then closed and locked the cabinet. When she organized it tomorrow, it’d show up. Chloe and Tommy knew where she kept the key; it was entirely possible that one of them moved the bottle while looking for another item.

  Frannie waited for Joe’s next call, then lay in bed listening to the rain slash against the storm shutters and tried to focus on the image of Naomi’s sweet smile instead of a missing bottle of Aberlour.

  * * *

  Alessandro paced the darkened, empty vestibule at St. Augustine’s and tried to tune out the heavy rain that pelted the church’s roof and thick wooden doors. The children, spread out in sleeping bags in the church’s ground level community rooms, were somewhat insulated from the sound. Even if they weren’t, it didn’t bother them. To the kids, the evacuation had taken on the tone of a camping trip. They’d used the afternoon to listen to the echo of their own voices raised in song in the church’s spacious nave, then played games in the downstairs rooms. The priest had joined them in a game of charades, then provided giant easels for three raucous rounds of Pictionary, which lasted until bedtime.

  The electricity went out about an hour after the kids went to bed. Not that they noticed or cared. Every one of them was sound asleep within minutes of their heads hitting the pillows.

  Even Remy, with Humphrey tucked tight under his chin, didn’t stir.

  By two in the morning, when sleep remained elusive, Alessandro had slipped out of the boys’ area, past Sam Lameko’s sleeping form, then climbed the stone steps to the vestibule. He’d checked his cell phone, then powered off the device when he saw he didn’t have a signal.

  He couldn’t stop the worries flooding his mind. Was Frannie awake? Did she have power? He assumed not, though hopefully the generator kicked in as Tommy promised it would. He also had to hope the buildings at the shelter stood as strong against the high winds as the church.

  Alessandro wandered into the church’s empty nave. Two large candles burned near the altar. Otherwise, the space remained dark. He could barely see the outlines of the pews. Sarcaccia’s royal family, as with most of the country’s citizens, was Catholic, and Alessandro took solace in the fact that the church had offered shelter to the children for the duration of the storm.

  He said a quick prayer of thanks, then made a slow, exploratory walk around the church, peeking into its alcoves and admiring the artwork, before returning to the vestibule and taking a seat on one of its spartan wooden benches. He’d barely settled when he heard soft footfalls on the stone staircase. Chloe appeared moments later, clad in shorts and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt crumpled from having been slept in. A tie at the back of her head captured her hair in a messy knot.

  “You’re up early.” Her whispered words were barely audible over the storm. “Or very late.”

  “Very late.”

  She took a seat on the bench beside him, then interlaced her fingers, stretched them over her head, and yawned without bothering to cover her mouth.

  “Why are you up here at this hour?” he asked. “You should be sleeping.”

  “So should you.” She finished her stretch, then sighed and propped her elbows on her knees, leaned her chin into her palm, and twisted to look at him. “I came up here because those girls snore and I’m used to sleeping alone in the nurse’s station where it’s nice and quiet. I assume you’re awake because you’re concerned about Frannie.”

  “You aren’t?”

  “I’m an Aussie. ‘No worries’ is in my blood.” Her brows lifted. “That being said, I do worry when it’s warranted. With Frannie, it’s not.”

  Alessandro raised a finger toward the roof. “You do hear that, don’t you?”

  “High ceilings make it louder.” She leaned back, then stretched her legs in front of her and rolled her ankles in slow circles. “If it makes you feel any better, Frannie called Father Jacob to check in before the kids went to bed. She spent the evening cleaning her office. She was in a great mood because her filing was nearly finished and she can finally see her entire desktop. She has plenty of food, she has a flashlight and an emergency radio, and she told me that Joe’s calling her every hour for a status report.”

  Alessandro swiped his hands over his head. Relieved as he was by the update, he couldn’t shake the fear that Frannie could be in danger.

  “If Tommy or I were running the shelter, we’d have made the same choice as Frannie,” Chloe assured him. “The food and medicine aren’t just expensive to replace, doing so takes a lot of time. If medicine is available in an emergency because someone stayed at the shelter to goose the generator, it’s worth the risk. A small risk. And if Frannie’s using her precious time alone—the first time alone she’s had in months—to get organized, it means she’s fine. That’s Frannie being Frannie. The time to worry is if she’s not acting that way.”

  Alessandro laughed, then looked sideways at Chloe. “I suppose you’re right. Though why she can’t kick back and relax with a book, I don’t know.”

  “Because she’s Frannie Lawrence, that’s why. After a while, her neuroticism becomes endearing. Probably because people like the two of us need someone like her to keep us on the straight and narrow.” Chloe shot him a mischievous grin. “Left to my own devices, I’d find plenty to do besides clean.”

  He gave her a look of open skepticism. “This from the nurse whose space i
s so clean the kids could eat off the floor.”

  “The kids will eat off any surface. That’s how they end up in the nurse’s station in the first place,” she replied. “By the way, you were unloading the cooler from Sam’s car and missed seeing Remy holding the bag of communion wafers this afternoon. Sam gave Remy the stinkeye, and Remy put them back on the shelf so fast, you’d have thought he’d picked up a spider. He claimed he’d only picked up the package to read the label and see what they’re made of.”

  “Quick thinker, that kid.”

  “That’s when Father Jacob brought out the coconut bars and told the kids he had easels for Pictionary. Not sure the good priest knew how close he came to losing his communion wafers.”

  “My guess is that any priest who deals with children has had their share of lost wafers.”

  “And wild Pictionary games.” Chloe smiled at the fun they’d had that evening. “Father Jacob didn’t mind how boisterous the whole affair became. I suspect he was having as good a time as the kids.”

  At Alessandro’s nod of agreement, Chloe stood. “They’ll be boisterous in the morning, too. The wind and rain will get more intense before it stops. Sam and I will need you, which means you need to get some sleep.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He was confident Sam and Chloe could handle anything, whether he helped or not. But Frannie versus nature’s power? He wasn’t so sure.

  He smoothed his hand over his jaw, then looked up at Chloe. “This storm is worse than predicted. Don’t tell me it’s not…I know it is. If Joe has any issues contacting Frannie, or if there’s any indication she’s in trouble, I’d like to take Tommy’s truck to get her. I’d feel better. We might not have power, but the place is plenty warm and there’s candlelight.”