by Sam Cameron
Brian lifted his chin, stared straight at Denny. Denny worried he was going to lean forward and kiss him. Maybe “worried” wasn’t the right word. Hoped? Because there they were, standing in the small office just an arm’s length apart, Brian with his blue eyes and dorky glasses, his expression determined. Denny suddenly wanted to taste him—his lips, the skin along his jaw, the hollow of his throat. He wanted to grab him and keep him, like a prize or a treasure no one else could have.
“Don’t freak out, okay?” Brian said.
Then he stepped forward and kissed Denny on the cheek. Brief, soft, but like an electric jolt that went right down the length of Denny’s body.
Brian took a step backward. “I gotta go.”
And then he walked right out of Denny’s life.
Chapter Thirty-two
Steven and Eddie kayaked home, Steven leading the way over the choppy waves. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the marine forecast, but clouds had started to appear in the southwest and the wind had picked up. Storm on the way, he thought. For now the sun was shining and hot against his face. As he pulled into the lagoon he saw Kelsey sitting on the end of the dock. She’d pulled the garden hose down from the house and was rinsing off her feet.
“Hey!” he called out.
She smiled, waved, and waited until he got within a few feet. Then she squirted the water hose at his face full blast.
“You snake!” she yelled.
He threw up his arms to fend off the water and succeeded in capsizing into the water. For a moment, floating in the murky blue-green, he considered staying underwater for, oh, forever. More or less.
Kelsey Carlson: Most Likely to Be Really Pissed Off.
He surfaced, only to have a car sponge tossed at him next. A bucket sat on the dock beside her. Who knew what else she had in there?
“You total lying jerk!” she shouted. “You slept with Jennifer!”
Eddie stopped his kayak a safe distance away. “Jennifer? Really?”
A garden pot plopped into the water beside Steven’s head. Tin, not terra cotta.
“You slept with her and you didn’t think I’d find out?” Kelsey shrieked, her face red.
Steven had no good answer. “I’m sorry!”
“You’re more than sorry.” Kelsey reached into the bucket and pulled out a bottle of plant fertilizer. All stuff from Mom’s garden. “You’re a creep!”
“Don’t pollute the water—” Steven started, then had to duck the fertilizer. He scooped it up before it began to leak, found his footing in the lagoon sand, and reached for the hull of the kayak. “Come on. Stop throwing stuff.”
Kelsey picked up a hand shovel and eyed him vengefully.
“Aren’t you even going to say you’re sorry?”
“I did!”
“Say it again.”
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. It was stupid. You have every right to be furious with me.”
“I’m more than furious,” Kelsey said.
Eddie’s phone rang.
“Hello? Huh? Okay. Ten minutes.” He hung up. “Lisa’s car is broken down at the Gas & Go. Can I get out of the water or are you going to throw something at me, too?”
Kelsey said, “It depends. Did you know about this?”
“No,” Steven said.
“No, but I’m not surprised,” Eddie said.
Steven swung around in the water to him. “Why not?”
“You know,” Eddie said, looking uncomfortable. “You like girls.”
Kelsey threw a conch shell at him.
Eddie dragged his kayak up on the sand to escape her and took off on his bike, saying, “Call me later!” Eventually Kelsey ran out of things to throw at Steven and got back into her car and left him in the lagoon, surrounded by debris like the survivor of a shipwreck.
A wreck he’d caused on his own.
He didn’t think Kelsey was likely to forgive him anytime soon.
He couldn’t blame her.
Chapter Thirty-three
Brian climbed into the back of his mother’s car wanting to scream and shout at the unfairness of it all.
Mom turned around from her seat. “Okay, honey?”
Carter’s gaze met Brian’s in the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” he said woodenly.
They returned to the house, where Mrs. Ibarra had been busy filling boxes and suitcases for them. Mom took over like an army general. Brian started to pack shorts and shirts, but he’d rather have his books. He could always buy clothes in St. Thomas, right?
The phone rang twice with calls that Mom took in the study. Carter prowled the house looking for trouble. At some point he’d put on a holster, and the sight of the gun made Brian’s stomach twist.
It wasn’t a dream, or some paranoid fantasy. Someone really wanted to hurt his mother, hurt him. Not just some stranger, but Henrik’s own brother. What had happened between them to cause such animosity years later?
Mrs. Ibarra made a late lunch for everyone and promised Mom she’d take care of the food in the refrigerator so it wouldn’t go to waste. Then she pulled off her apron, saying, “I have to be at the gas station by three. I’ll come back tomorrow, take care of everything.”
“Thank you,” Mom said and kept packing.
At four thirty a UPS truck picked up the sealed boxes. The large furniture and all the rest of their stuff would have to wait until they sent for it. Brian looked out at the sunlight on the Atlantic and tried not to regret leaving a place he’d always intended to leave anyway.
“Time to go,” Mom said at five o’clock.
“But the plane doesn’t leave from Miami until nine,” Brian protested.
“We’re not going to Miami,” Carter said. “That was just for other people to think. Your stepfather chartered a private jet out of Marathon. It leaves in an hour.”
Brian turned to his mother. “Are we even going to St. Thomas?”
She shook her head. “Cayman Islands.”
“Why doesn’t anyone tell me the truth?” Brian demanded.
“Because it’s not about you, kid,” Carter said. “Let’s go.”
The doorbell rang.
“You expecting anyone?” Carter asked quietly.
Mom shook her head. Brian echoed the gesture.
Carter reached for his gun, motioned for them to stay back, and edged toward the door. After checking the peephole, he relaxed and opened the door for Eddie Ibarra.
Brian hadn’t seen Eddie since he’d been drunk on graduation night. He looked worse now—pale, shaky, in need of a shave.
“Is my mom still here?” he asked. “She didn’t show up for work at the gas station.”
Mom covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no.”
Carter asked, “You’ve called her?”
“There’s no answer,” Eddie said. “She always answers.”
Carter reached for his pocket. “I’ll call my friend—”
He turned away from the door.
Eddie Ibarra shot him.
*
For a moment, nothing made sense to Brian. The pistol in Eddie’s hand looked real, but the sound was more of a sizzle than a pop. Carter stumbled, fell, convulsed on the floor. No blood, though.
Stun gun, he realized.
Eddie had shot Carter with a Taser.
Brian’s head told him to run, but his feet wouldn’t move. Mom actually stepped forward, one hand reaching out.
“What are you doing?”
“Mom!” Brian grabbed her before Eddie could shoot her, too.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said. “I had to! I’m sorry!”
Despite the shock, Carter reached for the counter and started to haul himself upward.
Movement in the doorway made Brian’s head snap around. He didn’t recognize the young woman in the doorway but her gun was real. Despite the silencer on the end, it made a loud noise when it fired.
The impact of the bullet threw Carter backward, blood blossoming across his chest.
/> Brian stepped in front of his mother to protect her.
“Hello, Brian,” the stranger said. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m your cousin, Miranda.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Denny came home from the Bookmine at five o’clock and slumped down on the sofa.
“There’s a bucket floating in the lagoon,” he said.
Steven didn’t take his eyes off the TV. The news had come on, and Janet Hogan was blathering about something or other. He couldn’t remember what he’d watched before the news, but it hadn’t been very interesting.
“Kelsey threw it at me. She found out about Jennifer.”
“Oh.”
“That’s it? Oh? No gloating?”
“Brian’s stepdad is being blackmailed and they’re all on their way to St. Thomas.”
That made Steven look up. “Blackmail?”
“Family feud, extortion, and they don’t want the FBI involved at all. They’re gone.”
Steven thought about that. “Did you kiss good-bye?”
“Shut up.”
“You did, didn’t you?” Steven sat up. “You did it!”
Denny blushed. “No. He did it. One kiss, on the cheek. In Mom’s office.”
“You know, Mom put a closed-circuit camera in the ceiling there last month—”
Denny threw a sofa pillow at him.
Neither felt like cooking, so they went to the Li’l Conch Cafe for hamburgers and fries. The food sat on their plates, mostly untouched, while Denny explained what Brian had told him.
“I can’t believe he’s just gone now,” Denny said. “I might never see him again.”
“At least you didn’t sleep with him and cheat on him and break his heart,” Steven said.
“You didn’t break Kelsey’s heart.”
“How do you know?”
“She’s smart. She had to know that you’re you.”
“What does that mean? What am I? A serial cheater?”
Denny gave him a level look. “Since when have you ever dated anyone for longer than two months?”
Sean Garrity’s sister Louanne came over to check on their drinks. She frowned at them both.
“Something wrong with the food tonight?”
“No, the food’s fine,” Steven said glumly.
Denny added, “We’ll take it to go.”
She boxed it up, they paid the bill, and stepped outside to a sky that had grown gray and cloudy. No brilliant sunset would light up the west tonight. Steven smelled rain in the distance.
“How does it end?” Steven asked.
“What?”
“The play.”
Denny said, “You read it in ninth grade.”
“No, you read it in ninth grade. I copied your homework when you weren’t looking.”
They crossed the gravel parking lot. Denny said, “It’s a comedy, so everything ends happily. The brothers are reconciled, the girl gets her man, and everyone goes back to Italy.”
“What girl?”
“Miranda. She’s the daughter of the exiled brother, Prospero.”
Steven slid behind the driver’s wheel. “So Poul thinks he’s Prospero. Where’s his daughter?”
“I don’t know. If she’s around, she hasn’t shown herself. Unless…”
Steven turned the ignition. “Unless what, Shakespeare?”
Denny said, “Unless she has, and we didn’t notice.”
*
“I’m sorry,” Eddie kept saying. “They said they’d kill Lisa and my mom. They took them somewhere—”
Miranda said, “Yes, yes, your angst is very interesting. Aunt Hannah, will you do the honors and tie his hands behind his back using these?”
She tossed some white plastic ties onto the kitchen counter. Brian couldn’t believe only a few moments had passed since she’d shot Nathan Carter. He was unmoving on the white tile floor, blood pooling beneath him. If he was breathing, Brian couldn’t discern it.
Mom said, “You don’t have to use violence. We’ll cooperate.”
Miranda smiled brightly. “I know you will, or I’ll shoot your son.”
As Mom fastened Eddie’s hands behind him she said, “You have to let me help Nathan. He’s not part of this.”
Miranda glanced down with disinterest. “He’s not part of anything anymore.”
Brian couldn’t believe that he was nothing more than a corpse. That he’d been murdered right there in front of them, ruthlessly killed by this girl who could have been anyone’s sister, anyone’s classmate.
When Mom was done with Eddie, Miranda fastened her wrists behind her back. Brian’s cast made it impossible to do the same to him. Miranda settled for fixing one tie around his free wrist and then through a belt loop in the back of his jeans.
“Both of you go sit on that sofa,” Miranda said, waving toward the middle of the living room. “If you try something stupid, I’ll shoot you through the head. Have you ever seen brain on the walls? I have. It’s not pretty.”
Brian and Mom sat. Miranda pushed Eddie down the hall, out of sight.
“Where’s your phone?” Brian whispered, keeping an eye out for her. His own was in his room, too far away. The nearest landline was in the kitchen area, near Nathan Carter’s dead body.
“It’s in my purse.”
He could see her paisley purse on top of the glass dining room table.
“No,” Mom said. “Don’t.”
“I have to try,” Brian said.
Sitting down had been a lot easier than standing up. With the cast and sling hampering him, and one hand fastened behind his back, he couldn’t maneuver himself upright. He stopped trying when he heard Miranda’s footsteps in the hall.
“He’s not going anywhere,” she said. She sat in the white armchair a few feet away from them and propped her feet on the glass coffee table. Out came her phone, so she could check her messages. “But you two are, in just a little while. You’ll get to meet my father in person.”
Mom said, “Why do you have to use a gun? We would have come with you without shooting anyone.”
“I doubt it,” Miranda said. “Besides which, we’ve had enough of sweet Uncle Henrik’s double-crossing. You know how many of the diamonds were in Miami? Hardly any. He lied about those, too.”
Brian’s brain felt sluggish, like he’d been hit by the head when he wasn’t looking. Shock, maybe. “There are diamonds in Miami?”
“There were supposed to be,” Miranda said and dialed a number. She waited for someone on the other end to pick up and said, “Yes, we’re here. All ready for you.”
She hung up and gave them another bright smile. “I’ve never had a big family. Hardly any family at all, really, after my father was sent to jail for the crimes your husband committed, Hannah. I bet he never told you about those. Kept it all a secret. No more secrets now, right?”
Brian was proud of the way Mom calmly said, “I have faith in my husband.”
Miranda’s smile dimmed. “My father had faith in him, too. Right up until the moment Henrik had him imprisoned, took several dozen diamonds from the family vault, and fled to America.”
“That’s your father’s version of the story,” Mom said. “You need to consider both sides.”
“I don’t need to do anything, Hannah,” snapped Miranda. “In a very short time, my father and your husband will be arriving by boat. We’ll all be taking a nice trip to the Cayman Islands. Think of it as a family reunion. If everyone stays calm, then everyone will end up safe and satisfied.”
“Like Nathan Carter?” Brian asked, his voice cracking.
“For millions of dollars in diamonds, I’ll shoot anyone,” Miranda said.
In the other room, Brian’s cell phone began to ring.
Chapter Thirty-five
“He’s not answering,” Denny said as Steven dug through the dirty laundry pile at the foot of his bed. “Hurry up.”
“This theory of yours might be crack,” Steven said.
“Just find it.”
Steven unearthed the business card Lucy Mcdaniel had given him. While Denny tried to reach Brian, Steven dialed Lucy. He put it on his speakerphone.
“Hi, you’ve definitely reached me!” Lucy’s voice said. “You do your thing after the beep does its thing, okay?”
Steven said, “Hey, this is Steven Anderson. I wanted to talk to you about that thing my dad’s been ducking you about. Call me when you get this.”
After he hung up, Denny said, “Notice she didn’t say her name.”
“Lots of people don’t,” Steven said, exasperated. “Look, I don’t like her, but that doesn’t mean I think she’s in on this.”
“I’m going to Brian’s house,” Denny said.
“He’s on his way to St. Thomas.”
“I’m taking the boat.”
Steven began dialing. “I’ll call Nathan Carter.”
*
“I should answer my phone,” Brian said.
“No need,” Miranda said. “There’s no one you should be talking to right now.”
Her phone rang next. She watched the display screen but didn’t answer. “It’s your friend, the teen detective. Very handsome young man. Both of them, actually.”
“If you don’t answer, they’ll keep calling you,” Brian said. “They’ll go looking for you.”
“They can look all they want. They won’t know how to find me.”
The sky had gone dusky and dim with the setting of the sun. Palm fronds outside the patio doors see-sawed in the rising wind. Brian tried to imagine what Denny might do if he were in this situation.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nathan Carter twitch.
Not a lot.
But definitely a twitch.
He needed medical attention, and fast.
Or maybe Carter was playing possum. Any minute now he might rise up like an action hero, guns blazing as he saved the day.
Brian didn’t think Carter was quite that much of a superhero.
If he and Mom were going to survive this, Brian had to start thinking fast.
Miranda’s phone beeped again.
“Very tiresome,” she said.