At once everything became clear. Sparrow. Father. Dove. Joyce. The photograph of my grandparents. A movie. The scrap of paper. Mother. The attempts on my life. I knew who I had to face.
Chapter 28
I edged from the media room toward the front of the house. As I expected, a lone figure waited, back to me, next to the railing overlooking the front door and foyer.
“Hello, Mildred,” I said.
She turned. I’d been wrong. There was a gun on the island. It was now pointed at me. “Hello, Piper.” She didn’t seem particularly surprised at my appearance. “So, you survived the explosion.”
“Yes.” I touched the side of my face where debris had cut me. “So did Dove, didn’t she? You used the same MO on both the Faire Taire and the Taire. You put them on autopilot and blew them up. They found the Faire Taire, by the way.”
“What made you think of me?”
She seemed so casual, so untroubled by a hurricane racing toward us, so relaxed with the pistol in her hand pointing at me. I was younger, stronger, and faster than she was, but not faster than the bullet in her gun. If I could get close enough, I could wrestle the pistol from her.
My mouth was parched, my body cold. “Many things, starting with something you said that lodged in the back of my mind. ‘Both your brother and your mother want everything to be perfect, and my job is to keep it that way.’”
She nodded like a proud schoolteacher. “That’s right. Keep the perfect home on the perfect island for the perfect family.”
I edged closer to her. “And Sparrow wasn’t perfect.”
A deep furrow appeared between her brows. “No. She wasn’t, and she was getting worse. The Kennedy family gave me the idea. They lobotomized their daughter Rosemary when she was twenty-three to keep her from embarrassing the family. I couldn’t do that, of course. But it gave me an idea.”
I felt sick to my stomach but had to go on. “You arranged for Father’s accident.”
“He was a womanizer. It was only a matter of time before it became public.”
“You tried to kill me.”
She shrugged. “You were pretty pathetic with your half-packed suitcase and journals. Your mother and brother talked about how he got a boost in the polls with a sympathy vote after the shooting. You know how much it means to them to get that wildlife bill passed.”
My stomach lurched. I blinked rapidly to clear my vision. “You planned that mass shooting. Ami died. And two other women.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.”
“You killed Joyce.”
“I couldn’t be sure what she would tell you.”
I couldn’t move for a moment. I felt like someone had dropped a brick on my heart. “Tell me about what?”
“You’ve put that together.”
“Dove.” I didn’t want to connect all the clues, to think the unthinkable, to face the monstrous evil that Mildred had done. The house rattled and shook with the wind, as if angry with me for my hesitation. “That day, fifteen years ago, Ashlee was nervous, sweating. He wanted to go to the mainland without anyone along, like Silva or, heaven forbid, his daughter. He was meeting with his lover, my sister Raven.” I stopped for a moment to make sure my voice wouldn’t shake.
Mildred nodded. “Raven called Ashlee, said she was going to come clean. Demand that Ashlee divorce you and marry her.”
“You overheard.” My head buzzed. “Went to the mainland first. Came up behind Ashlee and knocked him out. Somehow dragged him out of sight. Then waited on the boat for Raven. Did you know Dove was on board?” My lips were numb, the words difficult to form.
“Of course not! I’m not a beast.”
I blinked.
“I honestly didn’t see her, Piper. I loved her. She was beautiful. No, I lured Raven on board, took care of her, and sent the boat off with her body.” She glanced down at the pistol, then raised it slightly so it pointed at my heart.
The wind rattled the house again, banging doors in the apartment, bringing with it the stench of human remains. Joyce. “Didn’t Ashlee wonder what happened to Raven?”
“Ashlee didn’t care. He was happy Raven was gone and his problem was solved. I sent him some emails, supposedly from her. He never bothered to question them. He was devastated about what happened to his daughter.”
I moved closer. “I assume Joyce saw the explosion, got in her boat, and pulled my daughter out of the water, but she was terribly hurt.” Another step. I had covered over half the distance between us. “And you—”
“Piper, Dove is gone. You know about the body, the DNA. She’s never coming back.”
Before I could stop it, I moaned. I covered my mouth to stifle any more sounds.
A dog started to bark in the foyer below. I glanced over the railing. A bald, three-legged canine was digging at the elevator door.
“Piggy?”
Mildred’s eyes widened, then she inclined her head to the left. “That snoopy marine lady, your boyfriend, and a girl with a deformed face are in the elevator, just waiting for the storm surge.”
I stared at her, the blood rushing from my head. Hannah’s words came to me. When you see something you like, your eyes grow wider, your mouth opens slightly, and then the corners of your lips tighten into a tiny smile.
I glanced toward the stairs, widened my eyes, and let my mouth drop.
Mildred swung around, pointing the pistol in that direction.
I flung myself at her, grabbing the gun in both my hands, and smashed my body into hers. She flew backward. We hit the railing. With a craack! it broke. We plummeted to the floor below.
Chapter 29
We smashed against the marble floor with Mildred on the bottom.
Searing pain shot up my leg from my ankle. I couldn’t breathe, the wind knocked out of me. My left arm went numb. I rolled onto my back, tears from the pain springing to my eyes. Air will return. Don’t panic. I sucked in tiny breaths until my lungs could fill again.
I glanced at Mildred. Her eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. I kicked the gun away from her hand. With her shattered legs, she’d never reach it even if she did regain consciousness.
Rain poured down my face. The deluge had overwhelmed the drainage in the room, leaving several inches of water on the marble floor. Only near the walls was there any protection from the rain.
The front door had been wedged open. The wind blew through, forcing the door to slam backward, then forward, shattering the wood.
A drenched Piggy yelped in fear and cowered in the corner.
Something banged near me. The elevator. Hannah, Mandy, and Tucker were inside.
Rolling onto my side, I then pushed to a seated position. My ankle throbbed and my arm was useless.
The front door burst open. Nana raced over to me and stuck his face in mine. “Good Nana, good dog. Help me.” The dog stood motionless as I used his body to get to my feet. I could barely put any weight on my leg. Hobbling over to the elevator, I pushed the down button. Nothing happened. I tried the up. Still no response. I thumbed the intercom. “Mandy? Hannah? Tucker? It’s me, Piper.”
“Stop playing with us,” a strange voice responded.
* * *
The crash came from the other side of the door, followed by a second bang. Tucker placed his ear on the metal panel.
“Is the house coming down?” Hannah asked, her lower lip trembling.
“I don’t think so.” Tucker straightened.
“Mandy? Hannah? Tucker? It’s me, Piper.” The voice sounded a little different but still distorted.
Could it be? Mandy mouthed.
“Maybe. But maybe someone wants to toy with us some more. We have to find out,” he answered. “Stop playing with us,” he shouted through the door. He tried to think of a conversation he’d had with Piper that couldn’t have been overheard. His mind went blank.
Mandy watched him, signaled for them to trade places, then pushed the intercom. “Piper, it’s Mandy. Wha
t did I order for lunch when ya met me at the Fish Grill?”
A pause, then, “Are you serious?”
“I need an answer. I don’t know if it’s really you.”
“It was Buddy’s Diner, not the Fish Grill. You had she-crab soup, roasted beet salad, and blackened grouper. And you had dessert.”
Mandy grinned. “It’s Piper.”
Tucker whispered, “Yes!”
Mandy leaned into the PA. “We’re stuck and gettin’ a bit low on air.”
Piper didn’t speak for a moment, then said, “I’m working on it.”
* * *
I looked around the foyer for something to pry the front off the control panel. I spotted Joel’s toolbox near the planter in the center of the room. My heart sank. The only reason a toolbox would be so convenient was if Mildred had brought it to disable the elevator. She’d set a trap for people like she set traps on the island for snakes.
I limped over, opened it, and grabbed a screwdriver. The screws were loose and came off quickly. One of the wires had been cut. I peeled the plastic coating away and twisted the two ends back together, then pushed the down button.
Sparks flew out of the panel, then a small fire started. It was quickly extinguished by the rain. The controls were now a charred lump. Worse, the intercom was now severed. I could speak to them if I went upstairs to another room, but that would take time.
I drove the screwdriver into the seam where the elevator doors met. I wasn’t strong enough to do more than chip the paint. I’d need tools, a sledgehammer, something large enough to penetrate.
A quick glance at Mildred showed me she was still breathing. Her legs were bent at unnatural angles. I looked away quickly. Nana had been watching me from a safe distance. “Come here, Nana.” The dog came to me. I put my hand on his back. “You need to help me walk.”
Somehow he understood. The only place that I knew where a sledgehammer might be was the studio. I’d have to face the fury of the hurricane to get there.
* * *
“I smell smoke,” Hannah said in a high-pitched voice.
“Me too.” Tucker sniffed near the panel. “It’s coming from here. I bet Piper tried to get the controls working, but they fried instead.”
“Try the intercom,” Mandy said.
He pushed the button. “Hello? Piper? Hello?” Not even static. “Let’s hope she can help us soon,” he finally whispered. Tar-black despair washed over him. He could barely draw a breath. If he didn’t suffocate first, he was going to drown in an iron coffin just as surely as his wife had.
* * *
In addition to the rain, the wind whipped up debris. Fronds, branches, leaves buffeted Nana and me. We crossed under the house, which provided some protection, but the ground between the house and studio was exposed. My arm was still slightly numb and provided minimal defense. Twice branches smacked into me.
The studio, even with wind whistling through the now-broken window, was quieter than the crashing outside. Quickly I inventoried what I had available. Sledgehammer, hammer, wrench, metal wedge, short iron rod, and rope.
With only one working arm, it would take me several trips to take the tools to the house. I needed wheels—a cart, wheelbarrow, something. I didn’t know where the golf carts’ keys were stashed, and the carts probably would blow over in the wind anyway. My gaze finally fell on Father’s old hydraulic table. It had a flat surface, about two square feet, that would hold the tools and, more importantly, was on wheels. One by one I stacked everything on the table, then I called Nana over. I tied one end of the rope around his collar and the other around the table. “Okay, Nana.” I opened the door. If the dog took off . . . I’d just have to hope he’d stay with me and pull.
We couldn’t take the shortcut under the house but had to stay on the paved path. More branches slammed into me and the rain was almost a physical force. I limped, pulled, tugged, steadied, and shoved the table, with Nana jerking ahead at random moments. By the time we made it to the foyer, sensation—mostly pain—had returned to my arm. I didn’t care. They were going to die if I didn’t succeed.
After untying the dog, I pushed the table close to the elevator. I placed the metal wedge on the floor next to the elevator doors’ seam, hefted the sledgehammer, and struck the wedge. Pain shot up my arm, but I ignored it. The door didn’t move. A second strike jammed the metal farther into the seam, forcing the door to open a tiny crack.
“Thank the Lord,” Mandy shouted through the small gap. “Air!”
Her voice gave me renewed strength. I hammered the wedge half a dozen more times, mostly using one arm, until it was flush with the doors. They wouldn’t budge any farther.
My head pounded with my racing heart. The sledgehammer was slick in my hands, and now both arms ached. The opening was about three inches. Through the crack I could see Tucker.
I pressed my face against the cleft. “I can’t get it to move any farther. I need a wider wedge, or . . . something.”
Mandy peered at me. “What about . . . whoever trapped us in here? Are you safe?”
“Mildred.” I glanced over my shoulder. “She’s . . . Her legs . . . She’s unconscious.”
Tucker appeared next. “If you can’t get us out, you need to get to safety.”
The lump in my throat kept me from speaking for a few moments. “I won’t leave you.”
Hannah’s hand slipped through the doors and I grabbed it. After a moment she let go.
I turned and looked around me through blurred vision. Great pep talk, but how are you getting that door open? I pivoted back. “Is there any way I can get to you from the top?”
“No,” Tucker answered. “It’s welded.”
A bigger wedge? A two-by-four jammed into the opening? No, the wood would just break, assuming I could exert enough pressure on it. The metal rod? Same problem. I wasn’t strong enough.
Nana bumped a nose against my hand. “I don’t think you’re powerful enough either.” I stroked his wet head. Something strong. Pushing, pulling . . . the hydraulic table? If I put it on its side and pushed the edge of the table surface through the opening? Did the hydraulics still work? No matter, it was all I could think of.
Somehow I had to tip the table over, jam it so the edge of the table was inside the opening and the wheels rested against the wall, then engage the hydraulics. Hopefully as the table opened, it would force the door, not tear out the wall.
If it didn’t work, I had no plan B. Except to stay with them.
My strength was all but gone, my arms aching, my leg swelling to melon size.
Tucker stuck his hand out. “Piper, listen, you need to get out of here. The hurricane will be here in full force very soon—”
“I’m not leaving. I have a plan.”
“What do you want us to do?”
I hobbled over and took hold. His fingers stroked my hand. “I . . . I don’t know. Maybe pray. I tried, but it didn’t work.”
“Who knows, Piper, maybe it did. We’ll pray.” He let go. I could hear murmurings, but I didn’t wait to listen. Somehow his words had given me a boost.
I forced the table close to the wall, to the right of the elevator, locked the wheels, then removed a large edging stone from the planter in the center of the room. Placing the stone like a fulcrum next to the bottom of the table, I jammed the rod under the table, across the top of the stone, then put all my weight on the far end of the rod. The table tilted sideways, then flipped on its side with a tooth-rattling crash. The wet marble floor was slippery, but it took agonizing minutes to force the table, inch by inch, near the elevator. When I finally lined up the edge of the table with the gap, I again picked up the sledgehammer.
Nana, who’d been watching me from the side of the room, cocked his head.
“This one is for Ashlee, for having an affair.” Wham! I smashed the sledgehammer against the table, shoving it closer to the opening. “And this is for Raven, for betraying her own sister.” Wham! I broke out in a sweat. The blows radiated u
p my arms. “And this is for Father, who claimed we were the perfect family while sleeping with other women.” Wham! My strength was almost gone and I still had several inches to go. “And.” Wham! “This.” Wham! “Is.” Wham! “For.” Wham! “Mildred!” Wham! The last blow jammed the tabletop firmly into the opening. I sank to the floor, breathing heavily, my arms too weak to even lift the electrical cord and plug it into the wall.
A gust of wind whipped through the door and rattled the palmetto behind me.
“Piper?” Tucker called. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. I don’t have time to rest. I crawled to the table, shoved the rocks and metal rod out of the way, then grabbed the cord and plugged it into the wall. Now for the real test. I pushed the on button.
Nothing happened.
“No!” I flipped it off, then on again. Nothing.
“God, You can’t do this to me.” Tears mixed with the rain drenching my face. I tried again. Then again. I wanted to scream, to kick the table, to pound on the door. “Please, please, please.” I moved to the wall, unplugged the cord, and tried the lower outlet. Still nothing.
My brain was a fog. I couldn’t come up with another plan. They were going to die horribly, and I was too stupid to figure out how to save them.
Chapter 30
Rain streamed down around me. Wind whipped through the smashed door and flung the plantings around, and all I could do was stare at my father’s broken hydraulic table. I grabbed and held on to the amber necklace at my neck. I should tell Tucker, Mandy, and Hannah I couldn’t help . . . because the table . . . the table . . . I squeezed the necklace until it hurt. I found a necklace at Joyce’s place. Behind the fake electrical breaker box. Sparks. Plug in, outlet. What? I’d fried the electrical circuit on the elevator. Did I throw a breaker? Maybe. But I had no idea where the breaker box was. This house was huge.
Could it be . . . ? Was there a chance that not all the outlets were connected to the same breaker? I hunted a different wall and found an outlet. Grabbing the cord, I stretched it to its full length. It just barely reached. Plugging it in, I reached for the on and up buttons. Please, Lord.
Relative Silence Page 23