“It’s downright cozy if you ask me.”
Alessandro must have let his surprise at her comment show, because she laughed and stuck out a hand to pull him from the bench.
“Oh, come on, Alessandro. The kids see this as one giant escapade. Follow their lead. They’re not afraid. They’re not thinking of the tsunami. The ocean isn’t scaring them tonight the way it often does. And they’re only here instead of holed up in the bunkhouses because Frannie is being extra cautious. She won’t do anything to put herself in harm’s way. She knows that the kids need her. We all need her. So close your eyes and listen to the rain and think of how awesome nature’s power can be.” She tapped her forehead. “It’s all a matter of perspective.”
“Until someone gets hurt.”
“No one is getting hurt.” She put her hands on his shoulders, then spun him to face the stairs that led to the room where the boys were sleeping. “Dream happy dreams until the boys wake you to ask about breakfast. I’ll call Frannie in the morning for an update and you’ll see that you’ve worried for nothing.”
He thanked Chloe for the reassurance, but as he lay on the floor of the community room alongside the boys, listening to the windows shake with the violent wind, his last thought was, I’ll believe it when the storm is over.
Chapter 17
Alessandro knew the moment he saw Chloe enter the community room the next morning that either Frannie was in trouble, or that Chloe hadn’t reached her.
Chloe didn’t appear concerned; if anything, the nurse’s smile was broader than usual as she walked in from the direction of Father Jacob’s office and greeted the kids. But when Chloe spied Alessandro pouring cereal at a table with Naomi and two other girls, Chloe promptly turned and went to the opposite side of the room, closer to Sam, and joined his breakfast group.
Alessandro recognized the avoidance maneuver. He’d seen his brothers and sister do it often enough at their family dinners, casually taking the seat farthest from their parents whenever they wished to avoid being cross-examined.
He passed a milk pitcher to one of the girls, told the group he’d be right back, then moved to take the empty seat nearest to Chloe. When the kids faced the other way to talk, he took the opportunity to lean in and ask, “Now do I worry?”
“Not yet.”
Unwilling to have the kids overhear, he angled his head toward the door and urged Chloe to follow. Once outside the community room, she relented.
“She didn’t answer the phone.”
“Maybe she went outside to secure a door or check the generator shed.”
“I waited five minutes, then tried again. When she didn’t answer the second time, I rang Joe at the police station. He answered on the first ring. Said he spoke with her at six this morning.”
“That was two hours ago. Wasn’t he planning to call her every hour?”
“He has. At six, she was still in bed and had no plans to go outside, but she didn’t pick up at seven. He thinks the line must be out.”
Foreboding swept through him. “I should go get her. I’m sure she’s perfectly safe, but if the situation changes, there’s no way for her to call for help. Or for Joe to warn her if the tide looks like it’ll be higher than anticipated.”
Chloe shook off his concern. “There’s no need. Joe’s watching the radar and says there will be a lull between storm bands any time now. He plans to drive by the shelter then. If her phone is still out, he’ll bring her to the station or up here. Cell service is down everywhere and he’d rather not have her at the shelter if she doesn’t have a way to contact anyone.”
“Can he get inside? I assume she locked the gate behind us.”
“Joe has a key. He promised to call from the station in an hour with an update.”
Alessandro glanced toward the stairs that led to the church vestibule. He was tempted to go upstairs, where he could get a better look at the weather and gauge the situation. He hated the idea of waiting. Joe sounded like a reliable man, but he wanted to ensure Frannie’s safety himself.
“All right.” He could be patient. Frannie made a decision, and if everyone else could respect it, so should he.
An hour and a half later, after playing card games and helping one of the girls fix a broken bracelet, he waved to Chloe, who’d ducked into Father Jacob’s office. When she approached, he asked, “What’s the word?”
“No word. Now our phone is out.” Chloe shot a look at Sam, who nodded, before she turned to Alessandro. “I just took a look outside. It’s not too bad, but I can’t say how long the lull will last. The most intense band of wind and rain is still due. My guess is that Joe’s using this break to bring her here.”
“But it’s only a guess.”
“Yes.” Chloe withdrew a set of keys from her pocket. “You’re welcome to take the truck. There’s only one road from here to the shelter, so you won’t miss Joe and Frannie if they’re on their way up. If you make it all the way to the shelter, inform Joe. But if the wind picks up or you run into mud, or if there’s even a question—”
“Understood.”
* * *
Frannie rolled over, pulling her pillow with her. Between the endless roar of the wind, the drumming of rain against the roof, and the hourly calls from Joe, sleep had been fleeting at best.
She curled into her sheets, then groaned as she realized it had been a while since she’d heard from Joe. The phone would ring sooner rather than later.
Shoving the pillow aside, she blinked at the clock on the face of the emergency radio. She pulled it closer, then looked again.
Joe’s call was nearly an hour overdue. Either that, or she’d slept through the ringing of the phone. That didn’t seem plausible, given that she’d cranked the ringer to maximum volume and left both her bedroom door and the door that separated the office from the back hall wide open.
Reluctantly, Frannie sat up, pulled on her sneakers, then made her way to the office. Though it was morning, the combination of the shuttered windows and the storm made it feel like midnight. She’d just reached her desk and picked up the receiver to check the phone when she heard her name called, followed by pounding on the office door.
“Joe?”
“Yes!”
She hurried to admit the police officer. Though he wore a slicker and hat, he was soaked.
“How long have you been out there?” she asked after she shut the door behind him. Before Joe could answer, she added, “Stay put. I’ll get you a towel.”
While Frannie strode to the hallway to grab a spare towel, Joe took off his hat and set it near the door. “About a minute. I was afraid you were asleep.”
“I was.” She returned and handed him the towel, which he used to wipe his face. “I slept right through your call. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to have to come out in this.”
“Not your fault,” he assured her. “All the phones on this road are out. I stopped by the Falupi house on my way here. They’re sheltering fifteen people.”
“Everyone all right?”
“That house survived the tsunami, so I’m not worried about it surviving this.” He patted the outside of his slicker to keep water from dripping all over the floor. “As you’d expect, they’re having a grand time. When I arrived, the whole family was playing rummy under flashlights they’d tied to the ceiling. Mrs. Falupi even made banana cake before the power went out.”
“Of course she did.” Banana cake was the answer to every gathering on Kilakuru, no matter the weather.
“The storm’s going to pick up again soon,” Joe said. “There won’t be phone or Internet until at least tomorrow, when crews can get out to do repairs. I’d like to take you to the church so you’re not cut off.”
“Any change to the forecast since last time we talked?”
“If anything, the winds have picked up. Tide shouldn’t come this far in, but my guess is that it’ll be close.”
“How’s the road right now?”
“It was fine from the stati
on to here. We’ll see how far we get up the hill. If we can’t make it, you can hole up at the station. We have a couple empty beds in the cells. They’re nicer than they sound—clean bedding, a decent mattress—and I promise not to lock you in. You might want to bring your own pillow, though. Oh, and you’d better not be afraid of cockroaches. They’re coming up from the beach.” He spread his hand to indicate the size of the roach. “I saw one on the Falupis’ front porch that made me hesitate. If they’re at the Falupis’ house, they’ll be at the station.”
Frannie laughed at the idea of staying in one of the island’s cells. They were likely as comfortable as her room at the shelter; she couldn’t imagine they saw much use. The cockroaches were part of life anywhere in the tropics. She gestured toward her room. “I packed a bag, just in case. Let me change clothes and grab my toiletries and we can go. Five minutes, tops.”
Much as she wanted to stay and keep an eye on the shelter, she didn’t want to worry Joe. She wouldn’t be able to go outdoors to monitor conditions during the peak of the storm, and with the phone out, there wasn’t much she could do to coordinate the evacuation groups when it was time to return. She just hoped the generator kept doing its job to preserve the food and refrigerated medicines.
Ten minutes later, they passed the police station. Joe slowed and flashed his lights. The dispatcher, whose office was at the front of the building, waved back. “They’ll contact the evacuation sites and let them know you’re with me.”
She thanked him, then refrained from small talk so Joe could concentrate on the road. What constituted a lull in this storm would be considered a downpour on any other day. The car shimmied with the force of the wind, and Frannie noticed Joe kept both hands on the wheel to keep the cruiser steady. A mile past the police station, the road doubled back and twisted uphill, toward the high point where St. Augustine’s stood. Beyond the guardrail on the passenger side, a river of muddy water carried debris downhill. At several points, Joe was forced to slow to cross over areas where drainage channels that ran beneath the road overflowed.
“It’ll dry out in a few days,” Joe told her as they passed a broken branch that had landed on the guardrail. “We had rain like this once about eight years ago. Engineers reinforced the road afterward to keep it stable on days like today, when the earth can’t absorb the water as fast as it falls.”
She looked sideways at him. “This is fun for you, isn’t it?”
“It’s a cop thing. We all crave a certain level of excitement. Shakes up the routine.”
“We’re literally shaking.”
He turned a jaunty smile her way. “Awesome, isn’t it? Though I’ll hate it tomorrow when this blows over and the flying insects emerge.”
“You have a strange sense of fun.” Frannie enjoyed lying in bed and listening to the sound of rain hitting the roof as much as the next person, but this was something else.
They saw the downed tree blocking the road at the same time. Joe slowed to a stop.
“Unless you have a chainsaw and the urge to use it in the middle of a storm, we’re not getting by that,” Frannie said.
His gaze swung from the battered trunk toward the mass of earth and exposed roots on the other side of the dented guardrail, where the tree had ripped from the ground. “Let me call it in so the road is blocked off at the top. On our way down, we’ll stop at the turnoff to set out warning flags.”
He radioed the station, then told Frannie to stay put. “I have orange tape in the trunk. I’ll tie it to the tree so it’s visible in case someone misses my warning flags. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll have the towel handy.” She’d thrown it over her head as they’d walked from her office to Joe’s cruiser. It wasn’t dry yet, but it was better than nothing.
Joe was behind the cruiser, digging in the trunk when headlight beams cut across her line of vision. She squinted through the water blurring the windshield, then tossed the towel onto Joe’s seat, lifted the hood of her raincoat, and climbed out of the car.
After taking another look toward the headlights, she cupped her hands around her mouth and called to Joe, “That looks like Tommy’s truck,” then ducked her head against the rain and jogged toward the tree.
The truck stopped on the other side, clear of the branches that littered the wet, muddy road. Joe came up behind Frannie, orange tape in hand, as the driver put the truck in park and opened the door.
“Alessandro? What are you doing?” She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the rain. “Where’s your coat?”
She felt like a mother scolding a child, but he wore only a T-shirt and shorts, both of which were quickly getting drenched. His sneakers were already saturated from the water cascading down the roadway. Even so, his grin lifted her spirits.
“Joe was having trouble reaching you, then our phone went out. Thought I should check on you before the storm gets any worse.”
“We were headed to the church,” Joe said as he tied the orange tape around the tree, then looped it through the branches to alert anyone who approached.
“Climb over.” Alessandro waved Frannie toward the guardrail, where the trunk lay closer to the ground. “I’ll drive you the rest of the way.”
“I’ll get my bag,” she said, then hurried to the cruiser. She slid on the wet roadway and nearly fell, but managed to catch herself on the hood of the cruiser. She retrieved her bag from where she’d stashed it between her feet for the drive, then left the towel behind for Joe, figuring it was the least she could do. Once back at the tree, she handed her bag to Alessandro, then clambered over the thick tree trunk with a boost from Joe.
“Stay safe,” Joe told them. “Report in when you can. Either the chief or I will drive by the shelter once the storm passes to ensure it’s secure.”
She thanked him, then hurried to the passenger side of the truck. Once inside, she did her best to shake the water beaded on her jacket to the floor, rather than soak the seat.
Alessandro, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by the dampness. In fact, he seemed energized by it. He shifted in his seat, intentionally making a squishing sound, then grinned with the enthusiasm of a man heading to a party who couldn’t wait to step on the gas and get there.
She shook her head at the ridiculousness of it, then leaned forward to turn on the truck’s defogger so Alessandro could see to turn the vehicle around on the narrow road. “I can’t believe you came out in this storm without rain gear. What would Queen Fabrizia say?”
“She’d be appalled, but I can’t wear it if I didn’t pack it when we evacuated. And even if I had, it’s raining so hard I doubt it would serve its purpose.” He openly studied Frannie’s legs and shoes, both of which were soaked. Now that she sat in the dry truck, she realized her shoes squished, too.
Alessandro flashed his headlights at Joe, signaling that they were leaving, then turned the truck. Joe did the same, then headed downhill.
Frannie turned to grab her bag from the back seat. As she did so, she asked, “If you didn’t pack rain gear, what did you pack?”
“Toothpaste. Underwear. Magic kits. The essentials.” He frowned at her as she stretched so she could see more of the back seat. “What do you need?”
“My bag. Where did you put it?”
He braked. “I thought you had it. I hooked it on one of the tree branches while you were climbing over the trunk so I’d have both hands free to help you down if you needed it.”
“I’ll run and get it.”
Alessandro reached to unbuckle his seat belt. “No, I left it there. I’ll get it.”
“Again, you’re not wearing rain gear. I am.” She opened her door and hopped out before he could.
As she half-walked, half-skated down the hill, the wind blew with such ferocity it took Frannie two hands to catch the edges of her hood and ensure it stayed over her head. A small branch bounced across the road in front of her, then smacked into the guardrail and flipped over it. She spied her bag, nabbed it from the branch near w
here she’d climbed the trunk, then looped the strap over her shoulder and turned to make her way to the truck.
It didn’t surprise her to see Alessandro waiting by the passenger door. She suppressed a smile at the thought that, though his mother wouldn’t like to see her son standing in the rain without proper protection, Queen Fabrizia would approve of his chivalry.
Frannie was halfway to the truck when she lost her footing. Her hands and knees hit the ground at nearly the same time, but the mud and water covering the surface of the road cushioned the fall. She pushed to stand just as she realized that something sharp pierced her shin when she’d fallen. She heard Alessandro call her name, but was on her feet again before he reached her.
“You’re bleeding.”
She glanced down at her palms, which were muddy, but otherwise fine. Her knees were similarly muddy, but she could see two distinct trails of blood running down the front of her leg.
“The water’s making it look worse than it is. I’ll clean and bandage it when we get to the church.” She walked to the passenger door, though he hurried ahead of her to open it.
“Careful getting in,” he said, putting one hand under her elbow to ensure she didn’t slip again. Though it was unnecessary, she appreciated his concern. Once settled, she leaned down to inspect the injury. It didn’t look bad; it looked like two punctures rather than scrapes or cuts. She must’ve hit a branch or pointed rock when she fell. She opened her bag to see if there was anything she could use to wipe up the mess.
“That’s not just water making it look worse,” Alessandro said once he was in his seat. “Pick up your leg. Let me see.”
“You drive. The wind’s picking up and so’s the rain.”
“Not until you’ve stopped bleeding.” He reached across the cab and wrapped one hand around her muddy knee, then lifted.
“Alessandro—”
“Let me see.”
His tone left no room for argument. Slowly, she raised her knee higher, then spun on her tailbone. He frowned, clicked on the truck’s interior light, then stretched to grab a tissue from a small packet wedged between the seats and used it to blot the skin around the wound. Grim lines formed at the edges of his mouth as he leaned closer.
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