Crawley made it sound like the information was right there in front of the rangers. Free for the taking. Something they missed.
That didn’t sound at all like a poacher. Maybe the poacher theory wasn’t as good a fit as Parker had hoped.
He flopped onto his bed again and went back to staring at the ceiling. Talking to God again. Nothing fancy. “God . . . you see everything. Know everything. And you know exactly what happened to Maria. Show me what I’m missing, okay?” It seemed all his prayers lately were desperate, get-me-out-of-a-jam prayers. But he wanted it to be more. He would work on that when this was all over.
He replayed Crawley’s crazy talk about eyes.
Eyes. Everywhere. One right there—staring at the rangers. Something they missed.
Wait.
One eye. Not eyes—plural. Technically, Crawley said there was one right there. Not a set of eyes. Then again, Crawley wasn’t exactly the grammar king of the Everglades either. He could have meant a set of eyes.
But he said one was right there. Staring at them. An eye that saw Maria. An eye that stared at the rangers. An eye that held the answers. Something they missed at the scene.
Parker closed his eyes. Pictured the Sunday Bay scene again just as he’d memorized it from the shot on Dad’s phone.
An eye. An eye. Seeing everything. Staring back at them.
Parker forced his mind to zoom in on the picture in his mind. The water was black. Still. Nothing breaking the surface at all. He moved to the shoreline. Slowly. Carefully. Looking for any detail he may have overlooked before. The log. Cypress knees. Nothing seemed unusual. Certainly nothing that had eyes.
What was he not seeing? Or was it Crawley who was missing something? The guy lived in the Everglades, right? How sane could the guy be? The guy was working with only half a prop on his airboat, so to speak, right?
He forced his mind back to the picture from Sunday Bay. Left to right, he scanned the picture in his mind. He checked each tree.
Suddenly Parker stopped at the cypress with the choker vine. There was another cypress behind it. Much smaller—with a greenish vine hugging its trunk.
He looked closer at the vine. Not green . . . camouflage.
Parker jumped out of bed. Shook his hand to get the feeling back. “God . . . that’s it, right? It has to be.”
Eyes. All over the Everglades. Yes, of course. Exactly right. And one was right there. Not a pair of eyes. One. It had seen everything—and was staring back at every ranger who’d missed it.
He checked the picture in his mind one more time. The vine was definitely camouflage. And it wasn’t a vine. It was a strap . . . just like the one on Jelly’s wildlife camera.
CHAPTER 69
ANGELICA ROLLED OVER and swept the nightstand for her phone. Who was texting so early in the morning—before her alarm?
Parker. Who else?
Sure enough. And it was a group text—to Wilson too.
You two awake?
She texted back.
I am now. It’s only 6
I waited as long as I could to tell you
His text came back super-fast. Apparently his fingers were working a lot faster than hers.
I figured it out last night.
She stared at the words. Sat up slowly, like her world might tip off its axis if she didn’t stay controlled. Calm.
Deep breath, Angelica. Take a deep breath. She texted back.
Figured what out, exactly?
The eyes---or rather EYE that everyone missed
She tried to steady her breathing.
Enlighten us.
Wilson---you there?
Angelica waited a half minute then fired back. Just tell me.
She fought back a sense of unexplained dread. What did he figure out? What did everyone—including herself—miss?
I studied the picture again---from my Dad’s phone
She texted back. The real picture, or the one in your head?
Parker texted back in seconds.
Head
Angelica found herself counting off the seconds, waiting for his explanation as to what this was all about. Twenty-six. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. This was ridiculous. She fired back a prompt.
I’m going back to sleep if you don’t spit it out.
But there was no going back to sleep for her. And he was back in seconds.
It’s one of those cameras wildlife photographers strap to the trees.
She stared at the text. No. No. No. No.
Night vision. Motion sensitive. We get that camera---we find out what really happened to Maria.
Oh, yeah. They absolutely would.
Can’t reach my dad by phone---or yours. Tried for hours. I’m going to explain to him as soon as he gets home. You tell your dad. They’ll grab the camera.
Angelica fought back a sense of panic. If there was a camera, the thing had to be buried before her dad—or anybody else—found it. Because if there was a camera—and it captured what really happened . . . the truth would come out. The secrets Angelica had been hiding since this all started.
That Maria was alive.
That Maria hadn’t been mauled by an alligator.
That another boat had been there in Sunday Bay . . . waiting for her.
That Clayton was in that boat.
That together they’d staged her death so she’d be free to be with him.
That Clayton’s search efforts and his “desperately grieving boyfriend” act were all a diversionary tactic.
And once that news got out, her dad would be looking for Maria again—but not in the Everglades. If the real story about what happened to Maria came out, her sister would think Angelica deliberately leaked it. She’d see her as a traitor.
Then things would really hit the fan. Maria would think Angelica snitched—and Clayton would consider it open season on Parker. She had no doubt. Clayton would kill him. And when her dad found Clayton, he’d do something that would land him in jail for life.
She looked out her window. Her dad wasn’t home yet, which meant she had a little more time. And she’d need it if there was any hope of avoiding this disaster.
How can you keep deceiving your dad, Angelica? The thought had tortured her from the beginning. But she was protecting him, too. If he knew the truth . . . he’d do something awful.
Another text. Wilson.
Just catching up. Brilliant work, Sherlock. We should totally ditch school and get it ourselves.
“Wilson—you’re going to get someone killed.” But she couldn’t text that. She pecked out a message and fired it back.
Go back to sleep, Wilson. Let our dads handle this.
A text from Parker dropped in right after she sent hers. I’ll explain more later. Have to get some things done for the move before school---so no time to bike with you. Will get my mom to drop me and my bike at school. See you both there.
She was relieved he was going to school on his last day. At least that was something.
Wilson’s face popped up on her display. Why not get the camera ourselves?
What was Wilson thinking? Her thumbs hovered over the keys as she tried to figure out how to talk them out of it without looking obvious.
Parker’s response came up first.
She’s right, Wilson. Let my dad handle this. Besides, ranger boats have something mine doesn’t
Wilson weighed in. Bigger engine---or guns?
Parker’s text dinged. Ha! Drain plug.
Angelica gave a half smile and glanced at the row of plugs on her dresser. She picked one up and kissed it.
Her phone whistled again. Parker.
I’m behind---see you both at school
She sat there, racing through her options. But she had no options. Nothing good anyway. Just a decision to make.
“Do you want that camera to be found by Dad or not?” Hearing her own voice made the answer to the question incredibly obvious.
Definitely not.
So, the decision was reall
y made for her. She had to stay on autopilot here. Every decision absolutely had to orbit around the goal of keeping her secret—and keeping everyone safe in the process.
Angelica scrolled through her phone contacts. Found the one she’d hidden under a ridiculous alias.
Were her hands actually shaking? She held them out in front of her. Oh, yeah. They were shaking. And so was everything inside her. Her eyes burned, vision blurred, and she blinked back tears.
“You’ve got to do this, Angelica. You know it. Do it. Just do it and get it over with.”
She took a deep breath. Pressed the contact number. Heard it ring on the other end.
What are you doing, Angelica? What are you doing? Hang up before it’s too late! She squeezed her eyes shut. Felt blind tears feel their way down her cheeks. Chin.
He answered on the third ring.
“This is Clayton. Talk to me, Angel.”
CHAPTER 70
WILSON LEANED AGAINST THE BRICK WALL of Everglades City School and sighted down School Drive. “What is taking Parker so long?”
“He said he was behind. We should go in.” Jelly adjusted Parker’s cap on her head. “The bell’s going to ring.”
Did she really think he cared about the bell? “I’m due for a tardy. I’ll wait.”
Jelly shrugged. “I can’t afford one.” She reached for the door and looked down the road one more time. “His last day—and he’s late. Perfect.”
“Yeah, well I’m sorry he’s even coming to school,” Wilson said. “I told him we should ditch school and get the camera—”
“I read the text, and I am sooo glad he doesn’t take advice from you.” Jelly smiled. “See you guys third period.”
He nodded, but kept his eyes on the road. How long did it take Bucky to explain the camera theory to his dad? Maybe Bucky’s dad let him ride along to get the camera.
Not a minute after Jelly disappeared inside, the tardy bell rang. Wilson’s phone vibrated an instant later.
Parker.
Just found note left for me in kitchen from my mom . . . my dad was out all night---still didn’t get Goliath . . . but early this AM on drive home my dad had accident---fell asleep at wheel---drove right off the road.
Wilson stared at the text for a moment before replying.
Is he okay??
Thankfully. He’s at the clinic. Stitches. Bruises. Truck towed.
Wilson relaxed a bit. How crazy to be in a serious accident—his last day on the job? Like a soldier wounded just before getting leave.
Wilson texted back.
What did he say about the camera?
Parker answered immediately.
Still can’t reach him---I’m trying---not sure when he’ll be home
And the texts kept rapid-firing in—with no time for Wilson to even answer in between.
All I know is what my mom’s note said. She rushed to be with him before I was up---so I couldn’t even tell her.
Tried Jelly’s dad---he’s obviously with my dad---nobody is answering their phones.
I left detailed voice messages on Dad’s phone, Mom’s, and Uncle Sammy’s about the camera---but I’m not even sure he’ll be in good enough shape to go get it when he gets back anyway---or if there’ll be enough time.
Wilson whipped off a text.
What now?
Instantly Parker was back.
Is Jelly with you?
The moment Wilson read the text he knew what Bucky was thinking. He would have let out a whoop if he hadn’t been just outside the school doors.
She’s already inside.
Wilson had never seen Parker text so fast.
We need that camera. Now.
Wilson’s heart danced a little happy jig in his chest. His phone rang an instant later.
“Bucky?”
“I’m going in.” Parker sounded out of breath. “If I wait much longer, I won’t be able to get back before dark—and Dad wouldn’t want that. Uncle Sammy deserves to know what happened to Maria. The moving van comes tomorrow. And who knows when the owner of that camera may come and move it to another spot. It could already be gone. This is my last chance.”
“Ditching school?” Wilson kept his voice down. “I’m impressed. No more boy scout, eh?”
“I already called the school—thankfully got the receptionist instead of Principal Kingman. Told her the truth . . . my dad had an accident and now some things fell on my shoulders—and I’m not coming in. She told me I was doing the right thing—and that they’d make arrangements later for me to empty my locker.”
Wilson shook his head. Parker was crazy. “You’re even more of a boy scout than I thought.” But at least he was going after the camera. “Hold on for a second, Bucky.”
Wilson checked over his shoulder—through the school doors. No teachers. No Principal K. And there was going to be no Wilson in school today either—and he wasn’t going to call anybody for permission.
He made his way to his bike. Casually. Like he forgot his lunch or something—just in case a teacher was watching out a window. His absence would be discovered soon enough, and Principal Kingman would make a call to Wilson’s dad—who really wouldn’t care. He’d probably be calling Parker’s dad, too, even though the lady in the office said Bucky was good to go. Good luck with that, Principal K. “Bucky, don’t you dare leave without me.”
Parker laughed. “Why do you think I’m calling?”
“You need a Miccosukee guide, eh?”
“More like a drain plug. I just called the marina. They’re still out.”
“I know just where to borrow one.”
“But the instant we get back—we return it,” Parker said. “Got it?”
If it was that important to Bucky, why not? “I promise.”
Wilson yanked his bike free from the rack. They were getting one more adventure together. And it would be their best. He could feel it.
“I’m there in twenty-five minutes—max. And Bucky . . . I guess ValuJet 592 is making one more flight into the Glades after all!”
CHAPTER 71
ANGELICA NEVER FELT MORE MESSED UP. She’d kept Maria and Clayton’s dirty little secret. Their insane plan for Maria to run away—and their scheme to keep anyone from following. All they needed was a good place for her to hide out until she turned eighteen, and they could legally get married without Dad’s okay. Clayton claimed he had the perfect place for her to lie low. And with everyone thinking she was dead, it wouldn’t be hard for her to pull it off. Nobody would be looking.
Maria had played her part well. The Rod and Reel Club. The speeding. The reckless “death wish” stunts and doing Watson’s Run solo. Only she wasn’t alone. Not for long anyway. Clayton met her in Sunday Bay—but not before she’d thrown everyone off with her posts. And Clayton used the whole Gator Hook Trail thing as an alibi—to look like he had no idea where she was that night.
But he’d had everything planned to the minute, and when he left the trailhead in a rage, he was really racing to his boat—which he was launching from some remote spot. They broke the paddle, swamped the kayak, and took off in King of the Glades for Flamingo City—right according to plan.
Angelica kept her end of the bargain—in exchange for the promise that Clayton would stay away from Parker. She was absolutely convinced that the only thing keeping Parker alive was the fact that she could blow the whistle on Clayton—and her dad would find Maria and keep her away from him for good this time.
In a way, Maria and Clayton were blackmailing Angelica—and she was doing the same back to them. It worked. And it would keep working indefinitely as long as Clayton got that camera out of there.
She was almost glad she didn’t see Parker in the halls after first period. He would take one look at her and know something was wrong. He’d sense that somehow she had betrayed him. Right now, it felt like the word “traitor” was written across her forehead with a permanent marker. She’d probably need until third period to get her game face on.
; Wilson, on the other hand, wouldn’t notice if her nose was missing. But she hadn’t seen him either. With only 165 students in the entire school, it seemed strange that she hadn’t seen either one of them.
Between second and third period she actually started looking for them—and waited for them in the hall outside class. Her phone chirped, and her dad’s name came up on a text. She swiped it to the side without reading it so she could watch the halls for Parker and Wilson.
When the bell rang and neither one of them were at their desks, a sick feeling seeped into her stomach.
She shouldered her pack and practically power walked to the girl’s room. She stormed into a stall, locked the door, and dialed Parker.
No answer.
She tried Wilson.
Right to voicemail.
Maybe they left a message. That’s when she saw her dad’s text again—and read it this time.
Parker’s dad dozed at the wheel early this AM. Put his truck in the ditch. Bumps. Bruises. Stitches. But okay. I’m still at the clinic with him. Sorry---my phone was off until now. Should be leaving the clinic any minute. Didn’t want you to worry if you heard something . . . I’m fine.
Relief flooded over her that they were both okay. But guilt did too. Her dad and Parker’s wouldn’t have been searching for Goliath all night and exhausting themselves if she hadn’t covered for her sister.
At least now Parker’s disappearance made sense. “Of course.” Parker ditched school to be with his dad. But where was Wilson?
Angelica dialed her dad’s phone.
“Angelica?”
“Dad—is Parker there?”
A slight pause. “No. His mom is, but not Parker.”
Her stomach tightened. Parker’s dad had the accident on the way home from work. How could Parker have told him about the camera if he wasn’t with him?
“What about Wilson?”
Another pause. “Why would Wilson be here? They should both be in school, which is where you are—right?”
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