Carolina Isle (20 page)

R.J. and Sara went onto the porch. Before them was a large Radio Flyer wagon full of gear. On the top was a kit that had been put together by a shopping channel for emergencies. There were two flashlights, matches coated in wax, two space blankets in tiny pouches, packets of food, candles, water bottles, a first aid kit. Under the box were heavy hiking boots in size six and three pairs of women's cotton socks.

“Thought you might need these,” Gideon said, holding up two flannel shirts, a man's large and a woman's small.

“We did good?” the little boy asked.

Sara swooped him into her arms and hugged him. “You did brilliantly. Wonderful. Fabulous.” She buried her face in his neck and blew raspberries until he was screaming with laughter.

“Me! Me!” the girl yelled as Sara put the boy
down and grabbed her. She raspberried and tickled the child until she too was squealing.

When she set the girl down, Sara turned to Gideon. “What are their names?”

“Beatrice and Bertie.”

“Not what I'd call Nezbit names,” Sara said.

“Yeah,” Gideon said, “I've wondered if they're their real names.”

“Knowing would make it easier to find their parents.”

R.J. was going through the items in the wagon and shoving them into two nylon backpacks.

“Want to go with us?” Sara asked Gideon.

“I'm sure he has other things to do,” R.J. said quickly, letting Sara know that he wanted the two of them to go alone. “But maybe you could draw us a map.”

“Sure,” Gideon said, though Sara thought he was disappointed at not being asked to go. As he and R.J. went into the cabin, the twins behind them, Sara looked at Gideon's strong, young back and thought how much somebody somewhere had lost in not seeing him grow up.

Bending, she rearranged the contents of the
two backpacks, then pulled on a pair of socks and laced up the heavy boots. Holding Ariel's pretty sandals on her fingertips, she wondered how her cousin was doing. What had she thought when she awoke this morning and found a note from R.J.? What had the note said? Had it been nice, or had it been R.J.'s usual brusque style?
You two are worthless so Johnson and I are going on without you. Have a nice day. R.J.

Sara hadn't had time to think about anything since she awoke on a cold, hard cushion this morning, but she'd been glad to hear that David and Ariel hadn't stayed cowering in Phyllis's house, scared and trembling. Instead, Ariel had found a way to earn money.

“And hear gossip,” Sara said, standing up straight. R.J. had left them two hundred dollars, the money he always kept in his shoes. There was no need for Ariel to get a job, but she had. And not just any job. Ariel had set herself up as the person who every woman in town would want to visit. And talk to.

Sara looked up at the cabin and saw R.J. and Gideon inside, standing by the window and talking. From the arm gestures, R.J. was getting
directions to the top of the center of the island. And what did he expect to find up there? A motive for murder? A reason that the people on this island didn't want them to be here? Sara agreed with R.J. that it was more likely that they'd been accused of a false crime to keep them away from King's Isle, not to make them like it. Even if the murder hadn't happened, even if on Monday the judge said the dog case was ridiculous and threw it out, they'd still never want to return to the island.

If she was sure that whoever was doing this only wanted to make them go away and never return, Sara would want to return to Phyllis's house and wait it out. But she wasn't sure what was going on. Young Gideon was the only person who would talk to them, so it wasn't as though they could go around town asking questions.

Like Ariel can, Sara thought, smiling.

R.J. came onto the porch and looked at her in question. Why was she smiling? She made a little gesture meant to say that she'd tell him later.

“I could leave the twins with Effie and the girls,” Gideon was saying. “They won't like it, but I could do it.”

“No,” R.J. said. “We can do this by ourselves. Both Sara and I've had some experience climbing, so we'll be fine.”

Sara's eyes widened. Experience climbing? Did that include getting on and off the Fifth Avenue bus? Turning away so Gideon wouldn't see her face, Sara slipped the lighter backpack on and tied the flannel shirt around her waist.

“You look funny,” Beatrice said.

“I feel funny.”

“Will you come back?”

“I certainly hope so,” Sara said, adjusting the straps to fit her height.

“Sometimes they don't,” Bertie said.

“Great,” Sara said. “Thanks for telling me that. Would you guys mind not telling anyone about us?”

“We never tell what Gideon does. He has lots and lots of secrets, but we never tell them.”

Sara didn't like what the twins were saying. R.J. and Gideon were still talking and there was a light across Gideon's handsome face that made him look older and sinister. She knelt down to eye level with the children. “Does Gideon ever hurt you?”

“No, silly,” Beatrice said. “He's nice. He gives us candy when we're good.”

Sara looked at Bertie. “Does anybody hurt you?”

His little face scrunched up into a fierce look. “If Effie tries to hit me I hit her back.”

Sara laughed, then caught herself. “It's not nice to hit anyone, but—”

“Come on, Johnson,” R.J. called. “You can adopt the kids later. We're burnin' daylight.”

“Daniel Boone calls,” she muttered, standing up.

“Will
you adopt us?” Bertie asked, his eyes wide. “Gideon said that somebody would.”

“I … I have to go,” Sara said, glaring at R.J. when he smiled at her predicament.

When Gideon stepped forward, the children attached themselves to his legs. “Maybe she'll marry me and we'll all be a family,” he said, smiling at Sara in a way that made her blush.

“Let's go!” R.J. said loudly.

“See ya!” Sara called as she followed R.J. past the cabin and into the woods. “See you when we get back.”

“Which will be next week at this rate,” R.J. mumbled.

“Jealous?” Sara asked.

“Of you and that boy?”

“Of me and that boy and David. Don't forget David.”

“Wonder what he's doing while Little Miss Makeover is doing all the work?”

“Smiling at the women,” Sara said. “Or taking his shirt off and letting them look at him. There are lots of things that David can do.”

“Stop lusting after those kids and watch where you're going,” R.J. said gruffly.

Sara laughed.

“Where you goin', Gideon?” Beatrice asked.

“After those two idiots,” he said, lacing on a pair of heavy hiking boots. “They're our best chance of getting off this island so I'm not going to let them get killed.”

“Da won't let us leave King's Isle,” Bertie said.

“I've told you a thousand times that he's not your father, so stop calling him that.”

At Gideon's tone, Beatrice began to cry.

“Hush, honey, I'm not mad.”

“You were gonna take me fishin',” Bertie said. “In the boat.”

“I can't today. Go down to the house and tell Effie she has to feed you.”

“Won't,” Beatrice said and the twins backed up against each other.

Gideon sighed. “Okay, then stay here in the cabin. Don't go more than a yard from it, you hear me? There are cold biscuits and bacon in the cabinet and apple juice in there too. Just stay here and play with your toys and don't get into trouble. You hear me?”

Both of the twins nodded, then watched in silence as Gideon strapped on an old backpack and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He put a box and a half of cartridges in the bottom of his pack. “No fighting, no hitting, don't get into anything that will hurt you, and stay as far away from the girls as possible.”

“But you said—” Beatrice began.

“I know, I said to go to Effie, but I'm afraid you'll tell her too much.”

“We don't tell,” Bertie said.

“That's true, but this secret is bigger than the others.” Gideon looked out the window. “I'm glad you don't know where we're going.”

“Top of the mountain to the hot springs,” Bertie said proudly.

Gideon groaned. “Too smart is what you are. Now stay here and color. I should be back before dark. I just want to make sure those city slickers don't get killed.”

“Our ticket out,” Bertie said, making Gideon laugh.

“Okay, that's all the TV you get. Now give me a hug and let me go. I'm going to have to doubletime it to get there before they do.”

“Why do you have to get there first?” Beatrice asked.

“There are some things that I need to—”

“To win!” Bertie said.

“That's right. It's a race and I need to win. Now hugs,” Gideon said.

Gideon was only a quarter mile up the trail when the twins decided to follow him. They'd had a lifetime of hiding to escape the notice of the Nezbit family, so they were good at being quiet. Gideon never heard so much as a footstep.

“W
HY WERE YOU SMILING?”
R.J.
ASKED
as soon as they were on the well-worn trail toward the center of the island.

“I was thinking about Ariel. She put herself in a position to hear all the gossip of the town.”

R.J. gave her a sharp look.

“Didn't think of that, did you?”

“No, but that was smart of her,” he said, smiling. “Maybe she
is
your cousin after all.”

“Okay,” Sara said, halting on the trail. “That does it. First you kiss me and now you've given
me more than one compliment. Either the world is ending or you think you're going to die soon.”

Reaching back, he took her hand. “I want you on my side at the hearing on Monday. As for the kiss, a pretty girl and—”

“Spare me,” she said, starting to walk again and dropping his hand. She was just one of many women. It was the big complaint of all the women who came weeping to her, saying that R.J. had broken it off with them.

As they walked, she looked at the back of him and wondered what the truth was. “Do you have a plan about all this?”

“None whatever. What about you?”

“None,” she said cheerfully. “Are you sure Nezbit was dead? He wasn't planted in the bathtub and pretending to be dead, was he?”

“Very sure. His body was disgustingly cold.”

“Do you think—?” she began but stopped when R.J. halted. She stopped beside him.

“Don't look back, but someone is following us,” he said quickly. “And I think someone is ahead of us too. I think it's just possible there are a parade of people around us. See those rocks up
there?” he asked. “Think you could walk along the edge of them?”

“Yes,” Sara said, but she wasn't sure she could. They seemed to go straight up and straight down.

“Come on then,” he said. “Want me to carry your pack?”

“No. I put all the heavy stuff in yours so I'm fine.”

She followed R.J. through tall grass until they emerged on a rocky surface. Above them were sheer rocks, looming high overhead. “I think we can go this way,” R.J. whispered and held out his hand to help her up.

She couldn't find a foothold in the stone surface, so R.J. had to pull her up, and she scraped her knee on the rock.

“All right?” he whispered.

When she nodded, he turned and started climbing up until he was against the tall rocks, then he reached down for her. Sara was determined to make it on her own. She threw one leg up high, then used all her muscles to follow her leg with the rest of her body. She made it up, and
R.J. caught her to him in his arms, his finger to his lips bidding her to be quiet.

They inched along the rock, their backs to it, feeling their way to the left. Twice R.J. paused and looked out at what they could see of the countryside. Both times Sara was silent, hating the height, hating not having a good foothold, but she said nothing. When R.J. nodded, she started inching along again.

“Look!” he whispered, but she couldn't see around him to what he was seeing.

With her breath held, she watched him remove his pack, then hand it to her. “Too many doughnuts,” he whispered, then he turned sharply left and disappeared from her view. Holding on as best she could, her pack on her back, his on her front, she tried to turn enough so that she could see what had happened to him, but she could see nothing.

“In here,” she heard R.J. whisper. “Can you hand me the packs?”

Sara shook her head. Taking off the packs would make her fall.

He must have been able to see her because he said, “Okay, then, I think you're skinny enough to come through with them on.”

“I can't move,” she whispered back to him.

In the next second, he grabbed her arm and pulled hard. Sara went flying back into what seemed to be solid rock. The front pack caught but R.J. kept pulling, and she finally slid through the narrow space into a passage about six feet wide. Ahead of them the space widened and she could see light.

She wanted to cover her fear. “We found Fenny's gold, didn't we? Tell me this is the cave where he disappeared and where no one could find him.”

R.J. kicked something on the rock floor and Sara looked down. It was an old beer can. “I don't think we're the first ones to find this place.”

They walked between the rocks for a few yards until they came out at a pool of water. Above it, the rocks formed a roof with a hole in it. “How beautiful,” Sara breathed. “Breathtaking.”

“Yet another thing that someone doesn't want to be found,” R.J. said. “I'll bet this is the local skinny-dip pool.” He gave her a look from under his lashes. “You wouldn't want to …”