All night long, the wind had howled, and only Charlie got the sleep needed. With the dim daylight came the inevitable proof that they needed to get off the island immediately.
George said he would check out Monica’s house and the family at the end of the road. With Charlie’s help, Elsie packed up what food she had cooked last night into a cooler, knowing that if the power went out she’d lose everything in her refrigerator and freezer.
“Auntie Liz,” Charlie asked over his cold cereal while everyone bustled around him, “can I call Stephen?”
“Not yet, sweetie. I don’t know where they are right now, and once the storm passes, we’ll all be back.” She still couldn’t tell him that from the shelter she would take him straight home.
But he’d make new friends in Maine. There were several boys his age in the village—boys who were anxious to play with other kids.
“You don’t need to know where he is, Auntie Liz,” he replied, his mouth full of cereal. “You just have to phone him.”
Elsie looked up from the papers Ian had dropped off. She was already breaking apart the bracelets with the bar codes on them. “Hon, Stephen’s family doesn’t own a cell phone.”
“Yes, they do!” He glared at both women.
Liz caught a glimpse of the stubbornness her sister had noted once in her husband.
“Why are you so sure they do? Did Stephen tell you they had one?” she asked.
“No. Cuz I saw his dad talking on one yesterday. Stephen said I could call him on it after they left. We could talk about the buried treasure.”
Elsie took the bracelet strip and walked around to Charlie. As she wrapped it around his thin wrist, she threw Liz a concerned frown. “Charlie, I don’t know Leo’s number. We’ll have to wait until Stephen calls us. Did you give him your aunt’s cell phone number?”
Tears welled up in Charlie’s eyes. “I forgot! Auntie Liz, I miss Stephen! I want to see him, but he said his dad was taking them far away! It’s not fair!”
Liz sat down beside him, holding out her own wrist so that Elsie could press the bracelet’s sticky surfaces together. “Did Stephen’s dad say where they were going?”
“I dunno. He was talking on the cell phone about that bad man Ian knows.”
Liz froze, her arm still extended toward Elsie to receive her own bracelet, who also froze. “Bad man?”
Charlie looked down at his cereal. “The one Ian has a picture of on his cell phone. The guy I don’t like to talk about cuz it hurts.”
NINETEEN
Pulling herself together, Liz gathered Charlie up onto her lap, thankful that the boy was still small and lightweight. “I know, sweetie. I know it hurts. And we’ll find Stephen, or in a day or two, he and his family will be back.”
“Stephen’s dad said they wouldn’t be back.”
She rocked him lightly, her chin resting on the boy’s head as he cuddled her. “What else did Leo say?”
“He said that the bad man was still alive, but Leo said he was doin’ the talkin’ now.” Charlie leaned back and stared hard at her. “Auntie Liz, Stephen and I wanted to find the buried treasure, but I think his dad gots it.”
Still rocking him, she watched Charlie check out his new bracelet. They said nothing for a long moment, and she wondered what she could say that wouldn’t upset him further.
The opportunity came. In typical juvenile fashion, he looked up, and asked, “Can I go on rides with this bracelet?”
She laughed, in spite of the worry churning within her. “Sorry, kid. No fair in town while the storm is going on.”
Elsie patted his head, taking the time to check his cut. “Finish your cereal, hon. I have to do the dishes and put them away.”
Charlie climbed off his aunt’s lap and sat back down in front of his cereal. Liz stood. “I think I’ll go see if Ian needs any help. He should be down at the center. If you can spare me, that is, Elsie?”
The woman nodded knowingly. “We’ll be fine here. I’ll get Charlie to help me bring in those potted plants I have. I’m going to start that right now.”
At that moment, a dog howled, his mournful baying cutting through the constant, dull roar of the wind. Elsie frowned. “That can’t be Poco! I guess he was out gallivanting when the family was ready to leave.”
“Is he going to be okay, Elsie?” Charlie asked, stricken again.
“He’ll be fine. If we have room, we’ll take him.” She smiled, her face losing the deep concern for one brief, bright moment. “I’ll have to find a way to put a bracelet on him, though. Maybe on his collar.”
Charlie smiled back. “It’ll fit his wrist. But I bet he won’t like it.”
Happy with the silly thought, Charlie returned to eating. Elsie shot a knowing look at Liz. “You should tell Ian about Leo,” she said softly.
Liz left in a hurry. The wind shoved her down the stairs, and she had to grip the banister to keep from falling forward. It was hot, incredibly hot, and she was surprised she hadn’t noticed it in the kitchen. But boarded windows kept the hot, moist air out.
The gale carried her down to the rec center. Over the wind, she could still hear Poco but couldn’t pinpoint his location. It was odd that the Callahans had left him behind.
Odd that they’d left in such a suspicious hurry.
She felt some rain on her face and could taste the salty spray of wind-carried surf on her lips. The trees, even the heavy, live oak in the center of the village, fought the strong breeze. The houses around her were already boarded and abandoned, and the whole village wore a hunkering, fearful feeling.
The wind grabbed hold of the center’s front door and threw it wide open. Liz battled with it for several seconds to pull the thing shut.
She found Ian in his office, backing up his work onto the laptop she’d seen in his house. Around him were large plastic containers, some filled and some open. “I’m going to pack the computer in there. But it’s too big to take with us. The kitchen is okay, but there are two cases of water to be put in the SUV.”
“I’ll do that in a second. Ian?”
He didn’t look up but stayed focused on his task. “We should have been gone hours ago. Now it’s almost too late.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Have faith.”
He frowned, snapped his disks into their cases and set them into the open container. “Turning my words on me, are you?”
“I’m not being mean.” She swallowed, struggling to gather her thoughts.
“Good. We are to live by faith not by sight.”
She slapped the desk. “Ian!”
Startled, he finally looked up at her.
“We need to talk. Charlie says Leo had a cell phone yesterday and was talking to someone about Smith.” Quickly, she related what she’d gleaned from the boy.
Ian considered her words. “He must have Smith’s cell phone,” Ian stated bluntly. “And I would guess he was talking to Sabby. It sounds like he was brokering a deal for himself with the cartel leader.”
“For what reason? For Smith? Do you think he killed him?”
“He could have—” he looked grim “—or else he was planning to—”
Liz gasped, knowing his thoughts were also hers. “To kill Charlie? Or kidnap him? That would be pointless now, wouldn’t it? I mean Smith is dead, and everyone else is safe because Charlie can’t identify anyone else.”
“But think about what Leo said. Charlie heard him say that Smith was alive. He could have been arranging to give them Charlie or to promise to kill Smith himself.”
“But that would be pointless. Charlie didn’t see anyone but Smith.”
“We don’t know for sure what he saw. We just know that Smith wanted Charlie dead, and it’s likely that the cartel would consider Smith expendable, too. Or perhaps Charlie overheard something that could incriminate the whole cartel.”
She didn’t need to be reminded of how she refused to press Charlie for his statement. “Either way, Charlie isn’t safe anymore, is he?” She gaspe
d. “We need to leave now! Poco is out there howling like a banshee. Maybe he hasn’t been abandoned yet! Maybe Leo is here!”
Ian tore around his desk and threw open the door.
“Get in the car!” he ordered as he raced around the SUV. She’d barely shut the door before Ian had the vehicle started and in gear. The SUV spun around in the soft dirt and raced toward the Wilson house.
The screen door was banging wildly in the wind. Potted plants were strewn about. A sense of urgency swept over Liz. The task of moving them would have only taken Elsie a few minutes—less if Charlie and George were helping her.
“The door! The plants!” she cried out as Ian skidded to a stop. “Something’s wrong!”
Ian jumped out of the SUV. He galloped up the steps to shove open the side door that led into the kitchen. Close at his heels, feeling her chest tightening and her breath go shallow, Liz also crossed the threshold.
She gasped. Both George and Elsie were lying on the floor of the tiny living room. Blood trailed across George’s face to pool on the faded rug, while Elsie lay nearby, as white as a sheet.
Both Liz and Ian dropped to their knees in front of the prone couple. Ian felt for George’s pulse and nodded to Liz while she touched Elsie’s neck. “She’s alive! Her pulse is strong.”
Charlie! Liz jumped up and tore down to the small bedroom across from the bathroom, the one she shared with Charlie.
It was empty, as was the master bedroom and the bathroom where two large plants sat on the floor. She cried out his name but received only the howl of the wind in return.
She raced back to the living room, her fear enveloping her.
“Charlie’s gone!”
TWENTY
“Leo has taken Charlie!” She stared at Ian hard, her whole body threatening to collapse into tears.
Ian flipped open his cell phone and dialed 911, hating how he was torn into a dozen different directions. But right now, they needed to focus on George. Elsie’s pulse was strong, and she was beginning to come around, but her husband wasn’t so lucky. And judging by his knuckles, he’d put up his share of the fight.
After reporting what they’d found, not to mention being told who would be answering the call because of the storm, he hung up, then quickly checked George for other injuries before rolling him over into recovery position. The older man remained motionless, his breathing slow and shallow, with a thready pulse that Ian could barely detect.
Elsie groaned, and Liz immediately dropped to the floor in front of her. “Don’t move,” she warned. “You might have broken something.”
“I’m okay,” Elsie said, though she needed help to sit up. Looking as though she would swoon again, Liz leaned the substantial woman back against the easy chair.
“What happened?” Liz asked anxiously. “Where is Charlie?”
The old woman’s eyes flew open. “He’s gone? Oh, mercy, he’s not here?” She glanced over at George, who was still prone on the floor. “George! Oh, please, let him be okay!”
“He’s been hit on the head, and it looks like he fought back,” Ian said, holding a wet cloth to the man’s forehead. “What happened?”
“Someone came in and grabbed me from behind. They had a cloth of something horrible smelling.” She hesitated a moment, blinking as she touched her face and mouth.
“A type of ether,” Ian said. “The nurse keeps some in her clinic for emergency surgeries. She’s trained to use it.”
“I remember struggling…but that’s all.” She leaned forward to look worriedly at her husband. “George had gone outside to check the boards on the windows. I had my back to the door. He must have heard me cry out and tried to fight them off.”
“Who was it, Elsie?” Liz asked, her voice rising. “Did you get a look at him?”
Elsie shut her eyes a moment, and her lips moved in a silent prayer. When she opened her eyes again, she looked hollow, forlorn and so much older. “It was someone shorter than me, I think. Strong with thin arms. It all happened so fast. Oh, Liz, I’m so sorry we weren’t able to keep the boy safe. But God will take care of him. I know He will.” She leaned forward, slowly, her hands reaching out to Liz.
Tears now streamed down Liz’s face. “I hope so, Elsie. Because I’ve failed him again. I’ve failed him like I did before.”
Ian felt his heart clench at her words as he rose to rinse a cold compress he’d pressed on George’s head wound. They’d all failed Charlie. He was a U.S. Marshal, and even he had failed the boy.
A siren wailed in the distance. It had to be security from the resort arriving first, Ian thought. The mainland 911 dispatcher must have asked them to assess the situation first.
A few more minutes of the cold cloth and George was beginning to stir.
“Lay low, George.” Ian leaned forward, his hand resting on the older man’s shoulder. “Just for a minute.”
The man’s mouth moved, his head barely nodding, his eyes half shut, seeming to focus on waking up more than anything else.
They all sat on the floor of the trailer, Liz clutching Elsie’s hand tightly and Ian changing the cold compresses every few minutes until the resort staff could arrive. Liz shut her eyes and prayed. She prayed for Charlie and for forgiveness, for the Wilsons, for the fear eating at her stomach to go away.
“You haven’t failed him, Liz,” Elsie said softly.
She turned to the older woman, a question showing on her face. Elsie didn’t know how much Liz had wanted only to hold on to Ian and how she’d focused too much on that relationship rather than working harder to keep Charlie safe.
“God heard your prayer. You haven’t failed Charlie. Bad things happen to us all, some when we’re younger than we should be. But you’ve done all you could for the boy, and children know these things.”
She blinked and shook her head. “How could he? You didn’t hear what he said to me the day I arrived here. He thought I didn’t love him. And look now! I wasn’t even around when he was taken.”
“Children say lots of things they don’t mean. But they know when someone cares for them. They know that even though you can’t fix everything that you are there to comfort them. And Charlie knows that about you. You haven’t failed him, so stop thinking that.”
Elsie studied her husband for a minute, then looked back at her. “Charlie has heard you ask for God’s help, and that can give a child a lot of comfort. We are to have faith like a child, and for all that Charlie has been through, he has that kind of faith. Hearing it from you is good for him.”
“Jesus told that to his disciples,” Liz said quietly.
Liz glanced over at Ian, who knelt beside George. Ian looked up at Liz. He had a pained expression on his face. When her gaze locked with his, Liz saw the look shift slightly, inexplicably, like a frown of questioning. But not quite.
Was he thinking of how she needed stronger faith for Charlie’s sake?
Or was he thinking that if they got Charlie back, she’d take him away for good, and he wouldn’t get the statement he’d hoped for?
She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that he was as worried as she was.
Liz blew out a sigh when she heard the paramedics approach. She was still desperately worried for Charlie, but she couldn’t leave the Wilsons while they were alone. They might know something to help Charlie.
But the police were busy, Ian told her after he’d called again. They were warned again to get off the island as soon as possible.
When the ambulance driver asked her what had happened, Liz blurted out, “Leo Callahan has kidnapped Charlie, my nephew! He must have forced his way in here and attacked both of them.”
“No, hon,” Elsie said, reaching forward to grab her as she began to stand. “George was outside when I was attacked. He raced in here when I kicked over a chair.”
George looked across the room at her, ignoring the ambulance attendant who was now bandaging his head. “I was coming back inside. I could hear Elsie call out and knock over the chair. I could hear her
attack—”
“Hear who? Elsie?” Ian asked, standing.
“No,” George said, pushing aside the attendant’s hand for a moment to stare stricken and shocked at Ian. “It was Monica. She attacked us.”
TWENTY-ONE
“Monica took Charlie?” The sickening feeling settling in Ian’s stomach churned and then flipped when he stood. Monica? “Did she say why?”
George sat up slowly. “She didn’t mean to hurt us, Elsie. She was talking wildly, crazy-like, about getting Charlie off the island. Right now.”
The paramedic gently pushed George back down, but he was adamant and shoved the man’s hands away. “We heard Elsie yell. Monica grabbed Charlie and pushed Elsie to the floor. When she saw me, she knocked me over. I can remember seeing her limping away.” He looked down at the blood splattered around him. “This all can’t be mine, I hope.”
“I don’t think it is,” the paramedic answered. “You have a nasty gash, but some of that blood is over by the door, even smeared on the jamb. Maybe your limping friend Monica cut herself.” He packed away his case. “But if she doesn’t show herself in the next little bit, there won’t be anyone to come for her. You are the last call we’re making before evacuating. And we’re taking you two with us,” he told George and Elsie. “No arguments.”
“I’ll be okay—” George started.
“No, way, sir. You may not be.” The attendant shot both of them a dark look. “The blows on the head you both received could kill you in a few hours. You both need to be checked out.”
Elsie reached over and laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “We aren’t much good here, George. We’ll go to the hospital, and we’ll meet them at the shelter as soon as they find Charlie. And they will find him.”
George nodded, albeit with a reluctant look on his weathered face. “Fine.”
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