The Missing Juliet

by Sam Cameron

  “There’s some sandwiches,” Robin said.

  “Water’s all I need,” he said, grabbing a bottle and leaving again.

  Molly said, “You should talk to him.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re a lot alike,” Molly said.

  Robin didn’t know whether to be more surprised or more offended. “We’re nothing alike.”

  Molly petted her hand. “It’s sweet you think that.”

  Confused, Robin went out and joined Liam at the bow rail, careful to stand clear of sea spray. “You okay?”

  He nodded but didn’t speak. His gaze was on the rapidly approaching shore of Big Pine. Tall sabal palms swayed and shifted in the wind, seabirds whirling overhead.

  Carefully, Robin said, “Alex told me that it was easier for him because he gave up show business. That he worried about your career and what telling people would do to it.”

  “You were regular pen pals,” he said. “Best friends forever?”

  His tone was tart. She didn’t take it personally.

  “Sometimes it helps to talk to a total stranger.”

  “And sometimes you talk to a total stranger and it ends up on a gossip website,” Liam said. “I don’t need a shoulder to cry on.”

  “I’m not offering a shoulder. How about a tuna sandwich?”

  “You think Alex and Juliet have had dinner?”

  She could understand his frustration. Soon it would be exactly twenty-four hours since they were taken. On the other hand, she wasn’t ready to encourage a pity party.

  “I think Alex would tell you to stop feeling sorry for yourself and stay strong for him.”

  He snorted but didn’t argue about it. She counted that as a win. Robin left him alone and joined Sean at the stern. Now that they had a moment of relative quiet, he seemed a little shell-shocked.

  “You realize I’m in a boat with Liam Norcott,” he said to her.

  Robin shrugged. “So?”

  “One week working in showbiz and you’re all jaded,” Sean said.

  “I’m not jaded,” Robin protested. “A movie star’s just a person who got famous. They come as good and bad as the rest of us.”

  “You knew that before this started. Didn’t keep you from crawling through bushes at the Truman House.”

  “There’s knowing it, and really knowing it,” she said.

  They didn’t miraculously stumble across the Daisy Deedle in the first marina they checked. Plenty of white boats, sure, but none of them the cabin cruiser from Key West. Denny steered toward the setting sun and they continued to scan the coastline. Robin was sure she’d once learned in geography class that there were seventeen hundred islands in the keys, but Sean said there were only eight hundred.

  Robin had a sudden thought. “What about the GPS in Alex’s phone? Did anyone try that?”

  “First thing I did last night,” he said. “It was turned off. No signal.”

  They scanned Big Pine’s northern coast and circled around its neighbor, No Name Key. Eventually, the sun went down, the sky shaded into twilight, and darkness took away their options.

  “I’m sorry,” Denny said. “We could pass right by them in the night and not know it.”

  A muscle pulled in Liam’s jaw. Robin wondered how many times he actually ran across a problem he couldn’t solve with money.

  “I want to stay out anyway,” he said.

  Denny said, “We don’t have enough fuel or food.”

  “We start at dawn, we’ll have all day to search,” Steven said.

  They turned toward Fisher Key in the darkness, and Liam covered his face with both hands.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The mood on the boat was gloomy as they returned to the Andersons’ dock. But the marina nearby was alive with noise and music from Pirate Days, which further solidified Robin’s opinion that the whole weekend was an excuse for the local adults to party hard.

  “I’ll get us some hotel rooms for the night,” Liam said to Molly. He’d recovered his composure, although his voice was quieter than usual.

  Steven glanced at Denny, who said, “There’s not going to be a motel or hotel room for fifty miles around. Everything fills up with pirates.”

  Sean said, “My parents have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there. No problem at all.”

  Liam looked uncomfortable. Steven rescued him with, “Or you could sleep here.”

  “Brian’s in Miami overnight and our room’s still being painted after a tree fell on it,” Denny said. “We’re camping out here. The table breaks down into a spare bed.”

  Robin didn’t point out that the entire Sleuth-hound was about half the size of Liam’s trailer. Sleeping on a thin mattress on a convertible bed probably didn’t match his idea of suitable sleeping accommodations. Maybe he would have his trailer driven up to him and avoid the whole problem.

  Sean insisted, “My parents won’t mind.”

  “Sleeping here will be fine,” Liam said. “Thanks.”

  Robin said to Molly, “You don’t want to spend the night on a boat filled with these guys. You can stay at my house.”

  Molly asked, “You don’t mind?”

  “We have more guests than a bed and breakfast,” Robin told her.

  As they left, Robin heard Sean volunteering to sleep on the boat as well. For camaraderie, he said. Robin didn’t get involved. They took Molly’s car back to the Bookmine, where Robin got her car and led the way home. Mom and Dad were out, but Ginny was home watching TV.

  “Since when are you old enough to babysit yourself?” Robin asked.

  “Since this week,” Ginny said proudly. “Who’s this?”

  Molly offered her hand. “I’m Molly. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Ginny shook her hand. “Are you Robin’s girlfriend?”

  Robin felt her face go red. Molly laughed and said, “We only met recently.”

  “Hungry?” Robin opened the refrigerator. “We’ve got vegan lasagna, vegan spaghetti and meatballs, and vegan shepherd’s pie.”

  “I sense a trend,” Molly said.

  “House of Vegan,” Robin agreed.

  “But Robin cheats sometimes with ice cream, and that has dairy in it,” Ginny said.

  “You should go to your room,” Robin told her. “I bet there are many interesting things in it.”

  Ginny perched on a kitchen chair. “I want to talk to Molly.”

  “I will give you ten dollars to go to your room and stay there,” Robin said.

  Ten minutes later, Ginny was safely tucked away and Robin and Molly were on the living room sofa, eating reheated lasagna on recycled paper plates. The house was more messy and cluttered than usual, but when Robin apologized, Molly said it reminded her of her own home. Robin cycled through YouTube on her laptop and played an old Rhoda Dakota episode about the fifth-grade Valentine’s Day dance.

  “They look ridiculously young,” Molly said as a midget-sized Liam and Juliet filled the screen.

  “I used to watch this every day after school,” Robin admitted. “Juliet didn’t turn out to be the way I thought.”

  Molly said, “Rude, spoiled, unhappy?”

  Robin made a rueful noise. “Something like that.”

  “The way I look at it, she’s still growing into herself. Like the rest of us. Right now we’re not the same people we were ten years ago, and ten years from now, who knows?” Molly scraped her plate with her fork. “Look at Alex Austin. Boy band to dropout. Who knows where Juliet or Liam or any of us will be?”

  “I have plans for worldwide domination,” Robin said, only half-joking.

  Molly gave her a long, clear look. “Any plans for a social life while you’re ruling the world?”

  One entire sofa cushion separated them. It was a huge gulf. Robin couldn’t figure out a way to cross it without looking like Frankenstein lurching across a moat. In the absence of a smooth romantic move, she said, “Can I kiss you?”

  Molly smiled. “Absolutely.”


  Robin scooted sideways, almost sat on a plate, moved the plate aside, and leaned forward. Molly met her halfway. Out of the corner of her eye, Liam and Juliet danced together awkwardly in the middle school gym while a disco ball spun blue and green lights on their faces. Robin’s living room had no disco ball, but Molly’s mouth was very pink and the distance between them suddenly was no distance at all.

  Robin kissed her. Molly made a happy noise and opened her mouth wider, inviting her in.

  The front door opened.

  “We’re home!” Dad called out. “Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The hilarious part was that Mom and Dad both thought it best for either Robin or Molly to sleep in the spare room.

  “Mom,” Robin said, very low, “nothing’s going to happen. We’re friends; that’s all.”

  Mom patted her cheek. “Friends don’t let friends put their tongues in their mouths. Don’t worry. I’m treating you just like I’d treat my seventeen-year-old son, if I had one.”

  Of course Molly had no pajamas or nightgown. Robin said, “You can borrow some from me,” and without thinking about it, let Molly see her bedroom, with all those Juliet pictures hanging on the wall.

  “I’ve had a crush on her for a long time,” Robin admitted.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Molly promised.

  Alone in her bed, staring at Juliet by starlight, Robin thought about Molly a few feet away on the other side of the wall. Of how she could sneak over there and see how much more touching Molly would be amenable to. Of how this night could be the very best night of her life so far, as long as they were quiet and her parents didn’t get up to investigate.

  Then again, the very idea of her parents in their bed, slightly tipsy from pirate rum, maybe even getting frisky on their own, was enough to keep Robin safely under her sheet.

  She didn’t remember falling asleep, but woke in darkness to Molly shaking her shoulder.

  “You have to get up,” Molly said. “Liam’s on my phone.”

  “What?” Robin sat up, bewildered. “What’s wrong?”

  “Alex’s GPS is showing up on Liam’s phone.”

  Robin took the phone from Molly. “Liam? Where?”

  “Stingray Drive on Little Torch Key.” The engines of the Sleuth-hound throttled up behind him. “We’re on our way there now.”

  He disconnected.

  She could see it now: all the guys, rushing off to the rescue, while the girls stayed home.

  “On no they don’t,” she said to Molly.

  Stopping long enough only to pull on clothes and shoes, they got into Robin’s car and headed south on the Overseas Highway. Robin drove while Molly navigated by the light of her phone. It was dark and warm out, the eastern sky showing no tinge of sunrise. Stars glittered high over the flat landscape. Robin was halfway across the Seven Mile Bridge before she remembered to be afraid.

  “Will they get there before us?” Molly asked.

  “Not if I can help it,” Robin said.

  She slowed down fractionally through Big Pine Key, not wanting to risk a traffic stop by a bored cop. The road narrowed over the Atlantic and then widened again at Little Torch, where Robin turned north. The houses here were two- or three-story modern homes built up over carports. The roads were very narrow and maze-like. For several minutes, the map didn’t match the landscape in front of them, and the GPS nearly took them into a canal. Finally, after a series of frustrating turns, they reached Tortuga Road. Robin killed her headlights and parked.

  Molly showed her a satellite photo of the road. “The houses behind us are on the ocean. The rest have canals.”

  Everything was quiet and still in the pre-dawn darkness.

  “If you stay here with your phone, I’ll go look around,” Robin told Molly. “Keys are in the ignition. Be ready to call 911 if you have to.”

  “Shouldn’t we call them now?”

  “Not until we know for sure we’re in the right place.”

  Molly looked nervous. “I don’t like the idea of you out there confronting someone who has a gun.”

  “I don’t plan on confronting anyone,” Robin assured her.

  “Give me a kiss for good luck,” Molly said.

  One kiss later, Robin was checking out the nearest homes with her flashlight. She had a cover story prepared. If anyone asked, she was looking for her little lost dog who’d run off his leash. One of the houses on the ocean was for sale, with no signs of habitation. Another had a large sailboat at its pier. A light blinked on in a house with a speedboat at its dock. Robin could see a sleepy man start up a coffee maker. She worked her way west and had only six more houses to check out when a shout cut through the air.

  She started running. Behind her, Molly started the car.

  The last house on the road was set back in heavy foliage and surrounded by a chain link fence with a No Trespassing sign pinned to it. Robin jumped over the fence and into the yard.

  “Grab him!” a voice yelled. That was Steven or Denny.

  A curved driveway led to an open carport and a set of sliding doors. The carport was empty but for ladders and cans of paint. She inched forward, ready to use her flashlight as a bludgeon. At the pier was one boat: the Sleuth-hound.

  A door burst open behind Robin. She didn’t have any time to react before a dark shape barreled straight into her. They both went sprawling onto the gravel in a tangle of limbs, the shock of it like a cannonball that rattled Robin’s bones and teeth. Pain flared in her elbow and head and hip, hot white and blinding.

  “Got him!” someone yelled. Steven.

  “Are you all right?” Denny asked, kneeling next to Robin.

  “No,” Robin managed to grit out. “I think I’m broken.”

  Eventually, he helped her up, and with his help, she limped inside the house. A bright ceiling light illuminated a large living room devoid of any real furniture. The floor was stripped down to the concrete foundation, ready to be redone. Two folding chairs, a cot, a laptop computer, and some old pizza boxes sat in the corner.

  Sitting against the kitchen counter, rubbing at red circles around his ankles and wrists, was Alex Austin. He looked exhausted and haggard and was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing when Robin last saw him on Friday. Liam was kneeling next to him, nudged up tightly against his side and murmuring into his ear. Sean stood nearby, ready to be of use.

  Steven Anderson dumped Jake on the floor and sat on him.

  “You’re an idiot,” Steven told him.

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Jake protested. “She talked me into it! She’s always talking me into stuff.”

  “Are you okay?” Robin asked Austin. “Where’s Juliet?”

  Steven said, “She’s not here, but I bet he knows where they went.”

  Jake wriggled futilely under Steven’s weight. “They’re in the boat.”

  Steven whacked him on the back of the head. “Going where?”

  “I don’t know!”

  Austin said something to Liam. Liam asked, “Is there water?” and Sean grabbed a bottle from the kitchen counter. Denny retrieved some plastic ties from the corner and helped Steven bind Jake’s wrists.

  “They were fighting,” Austin said after taking a long drink. “Cayleigh wanted to go to Miami. This one said it was time to give up and turn themselves in, because things had gone too far.”

  Robin blinked. “So it was Cayleigh after all?”

  Molly appeared at the door. “Is everything okay in here? I called the police.”

  Austin grabbed hold of Liam’s arm. “I’m so not ready to deal with the police right now.”

  “You can do it,” Liam assured him. His voice was steady as he stroked the side of Austin’s head. “I’m not leaving your side. It would take dynamite to separate us, okay?”

  Robin asked, “Did Cayleigh take Juliet to Miami?”

  “They left about a half hour ago,” Austin said.

  “Does she know how to handle
the boat?” Denny asked Jake.

  “Sure,” Jake said unhappily.

  “It’s dark, it’s low tide, and she has to navigate down Big Spanish Channel,” Denny said. “We can catch up to them.”

  “Okay, here’s a plan,” Steven said. “Sean, you stay here with them and wait for the police. Call my dad, too. He was in Islamorada all night on a case, but he should be home now. Robin, you stay here too—”

  “Not going to happen,” Robin said. “Let’s go get Juliet.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Denny pulled the Sleuth-hound away from the pier thirty seconds before the sheriff’s lights appeared on the road. The sun slid up on the horizon, a blaze of gold that caught Robin in the eyes. Steven dug ice out of the galley and put it in a plastic bag for Robin’s right elbow, which was slightly swollen. Molly fussed over her.

  “You were very brave, jumping over the fence like that,” Molly said.

  “Or crazy,” Steven said.

  Robin scoffed at him. “You went after Jake.”

  “There were four of us and one of him,” Steven pointed out.

  Denny stomped his foot on the roof above them. Robin, Molly, and Steven went out on deck. The Daisy Deedle was on the horizon, navigating through the tiny coral islands of Big Spanish Channel.

  “Is she faster?” Molly asked Denny.

  “She’s faster, but I’m better,” Denny said. “The Coast Guard’s sending a boat and a chopper. She won’t have anywhere to hide.”

  Robin said, “But she could hurt Juliet.”

  By the time they reached Seven Mile Bridge, Denny had closed the distance to a half-mile. Denny tried to raise Cayleigh on the radio, but she didn’t respond. The Coast Guard helicopter appeared, approaching rapidly from the south. As they turned east and approached Fisher Key, Robin saw several dozen sailboats on the horizon.

  Steven groaned. “It’s the Sunrise Pirate Regatta.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Molly said. “Since when do pirates get up at sunrise?”

  “It’s for charity,” Denny replied grimly. “And Cayleigh’s going to plow right through them.”