Heartbroken (34 page)

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Authors: Lisa Unger

BOOK: Heartbroken
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By that time of year, Roger was back in school, so he never saw anything. It sounded to him like the noise of too many mouths that talk and too few minds that think—a line he loved from a book he read once. Bored people looked for drama and caused trouble. He was no better. When John Cross had asked about Richard Cameron, Roger had told him all the rumors that had floated around back then. What did it matter now? It was ancient history. The guy had a lot of questions, and Roger had been all too happy to answer them. Why was he so interested? Roger didn’t know. There were plenty of rumors about John Cross, one of which was that he was a distant relation of Cameron’s. But Cross had made no mention of that.

There had always been a lot of attention paid to the Heart family. Caroline and Birdie were the prettiest girls he had ever seen. Their mother, Lana, looked like a movie star, with her wavy hair and red lips. The girls were like flowers, sweet and willowy, always flanking
their much taller brother, Gene. Jack was a big tipper with a booming voice and an easy laugh. Everybody loved them. They spent a lot of money in town and were always friendly, not like some of the other New York summer people. If anyone ever suspected that they really had anything to do with Richard Cameron’s death, nobody ever said a word to the authorities. Richard Cameron was a drunk and a depressive. His death didn’t come as a surprise to anyone, nor did anyone in Blackbear mourn him.

Roger was at the beginning of Ross Macdonald’s
The Drowning Pool
when the phone rang. He looked at the clock: one
A.M
. He couldn’t remember the last time the phone had rung in the middle of the night. It took some effort, but he hefted himself up to answer.

chapter twenty-six

I
t was nice to be welcomed, offered a seat and a cup of tea. Emily felt so warm and comforted that she could almost forget that Brad was waiting outside.

Emily didn’t remember this house; it wasn’t the house she’d visited when she was a girl. She couldn’t help staring at Kate, who she could tell was Joe Burke’s other daughter.
You’re my sister
, she wanted to say. But the timing wasn’t right.

The other woman, Birdie, was looking straight at her. They’d never met; Birdie couldn’t possibly recognize her. Still, she stared at Emily intently, as though trying to place her face. Perhaps she saw some resemblance to her husband. Whatever Birdie saw, it didn’t make her warm to Emily. Her gaze was severe and unyielding; it made Emily squirm inside. Birdie was the woman Joe had picked over her mother; she didn’t see how it was possible. Where was he? Surely, if he were here, one of them would have gone to wake him. She looked around at the closed doors, wondering whether he was sleeping behind one.

“We rented an island,” said Emily. “But we got lost on the way there.” It sounded lame, like the lie that it was. She had never been a very good liar; even necessity hadn’t helped with that.

“What island?” asked Birdie.

“Cooke Island,” said Emily. She just made it up.

“I’ve never heard of it,” said Birdie. “And I’ve been coming here all my life. You must have come in at the wrong marina.”

“Yes,” said Kate. She was kinder, softer. She’d been the one to offer tea and a blanket. She’d started the fire. “It’s easy to lose your way out here, especially at night.”

Dean was tense and silent beside Emily. She could feel his leg twitching. They were supposed to lead someone outside, where Brad was waiting to subdue the family one by one. He would tie them up and take whatever money and valuables they had, plus the money from the Blue Hen. Then he would take the boat on the dock and leave. That was his promise. He swore he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Emily wasn’t foolish enough to believe that, not after what he had done. She was just biding her time. When her father appeared, she was going to tell him the truth. And he was going to fix everything. That’s how it was going to go.

“We’re a bit stuck until morning, I’m afraid,” Kate went on. “Hopefully, by then the bad weather will have cleared, and communications will be restored.”

“It’s odd that you would venture out into unfamiliar waters in weather like this,” said Birdie. “Most people would stay on shore until morning.”

“Rob grew up on boats,” Emily said. She tried for a smile that said,
Men. What are we to do with them?
“He thought we could manage.”

“We found the boat we rented in its slip,” said Dean. “We had the map. It seemed doable.”

It was the first time he’d spoken since introducing himself as Rob. Emily was Anne, her middle name.

“I’d like to see that map,” said Birdie.

Dean shrugged. “It’s on the boat, which is half under water by now.” There was no trace of the lie in his voice. Emily marveled at that. How many lies had he told her, just like that? It came so easily to him, more easily than the truth, it seemed.

“We should try to see to that,” said Kate. There was a flash of lightning and a powerful clap of thunder.

“Leave it till morning,” said Birdie. “You shouldn’t be mucking about in this weather.”

“I think Rob and I should try to rescue the boat.”

Emily wanted to jump up and stop her.
No
, she wanted to say,
don’t go out there
. But she was afraid. Brad had said he’d be listening at the door. “You say one word I don’t like, and I’ll kill them all,” he’d promised her. That, she believed.

Kate was looking at Birdie, who was frowning in return. The look on the older woman’s face was harsh and disapproving. In the moment, Emily felt kindred to Kate. She knew what it was like to grow up under the frown of disapproval. You imagined it everywhere for the rest of your life.

“It’s not a good idea,” said Birdie. “You won’t pull it out if it’s sinking.”

“But we could tie it off,” said Kate. Her tone was brisk, brooking no further discussion.

“Isn’t there someone else?” said Emily quickly. “Someone stronger.”

Kate was already moving toward the door, pulling on a rain jacket. For some reason, she didn’t answer Emily. Kate looked so much like their father. She had his powerful, purposeful way about her, a kind of quiet strength and confidence. Kate had his sunny blond hair, his tanned skin. She had the same aura of wealth and ease. Emily knew that she herself didn’t look anything like Joe; she hadn’t inherited her mother’s beauty, either. She was surprised by a dizzying flash of jealousy for this woman, her half sister, who had gotten all of Joe Burke for herself. For a second, Emily felt a welling of anger and sadness that their paths should cross this way. In another life, they might have been close. Emily wouldn’t be such a wreck, her life about to burst into flames, if things had been different.

“Is there anyone else on the island?” asked Dean. He seemed to
realize that it sounded like an odd question. “Someone who could help?”

“No,” said Kate. She looked away from them. “There’s no one.”

Kate Burke wasn’t a good liar, either. Emily’s heart soared. He
was
here. He was. Kate looked at Emily now. It was a searching gaze, a wondering.

“Of course, there’s always John Cross,” said Birdie, too quickly.

“Yes,” said Kate. She glanced out the window, as if to catch sight of him.

“Our neighbor,” said Birdie. Her voice sounded a little high, had the pitch of nervousness. “He’s quite the busybody. He seems to see everything that goes on over here. But he’s quite helpful. If we need him, he’ll come right away.”

Emily knew the old woman was trying to tell them that they were not as alone here as they imagined. That if they were up to no good, the neighbor across the water might be watching. These people were frightened. Two strangers had shown up on their island in the middle of the night. Who wouldn’t be concerned? And they didn’t know the half of it.

“You said the phone lines were down,” said Dean.

“We can always take the boat across the channel,” said Birdie. “Even in this weather. After all, you made it from the mainland.”

There was an electric tension in the air.

“Well,” said Kate. She looked at Dean. “Shall we?”

Dean and Kate walked out onto the porch, and Emily heard them going down the stairs. Then there was silence. She had the urge to run after them, to stop Brad from doing whatever it was he was planning to do. But she stayed rooted, pulled the blanket tighter around herself. It was a second before she sensed Birdie’s gaze on her.

She turned to face the older woman. She wasn’t pretty at all, and Emily couldn’t imagine that she ever had been, not the way her mother had been.

“Now that he’s gone,” said Birdie, “why don’t you tell me who you are and what’s really going on here.”

T
he boat was grounded on the east side of the island, taking on water. It listed to the side, and Kate could see that there was a breach in the hull where it had hit a rock. It was swaying in the choppy water.

Her intention was to retrieve the lines for the boat and tie it to a nearby tree. Now she could see that it was a dangerous errand, maybe a foolish one. The wind had picked up again, and when she yelled to the young man, asking him where the lines might be, he shrugged. It had been a bad idea to come out here alone with him; she knew that. But she had wanted to see the boat, to see if they were lying. Here it was. The vessel was clearly in distress. She felt some measure of relief. Maybe they
were
just a young couple in trouble.

She waded into the water while the young man waited on shore, looking useless. The wind was a sound vacuum. It was all she could hear in her head. She could no longer see his face, lost as it was in the dark of his hood. The cold water soaked through her shoes, her pants legs, and her feet started to ache with it.

She called to him to help her push it farther up on shore. He just stood there. Did he not hear her? Her heart was starting to thump. She glanced back at the guest cabin, which was dark. She hoped the girls were asleep and that they would stay where they were until morning, or at least until she knew what was happening.

In the next lightning flash, she saw the whole island bright as day. The rumble of thunder followed. She walked around the back of the boat. Why was he standing there? She was about to push when she noticed the boat name:
Serendipity
. With a flood of dread, she recognized it as belonging to friends of her parents who lived several islands away. They definitely did not rent out their island or their vessel. Shit.

Another skein of lightning, flashing like a strobe, was followed by a loud crack. Something had gotten hit; Kate couldn’t see what. When she looked back toward shore, Rob was gone. Her breath was coming shallow and fast. She quickly grabbed the lines that were still tied off on the cleats and got out of the water. Maybe he’d run, afraid of the storm, or afraid that she’d discovered his lie. If she were smart, she’d get inside, too.

She brought the lines around and tied off on a nearby birch that leaned toward the water. The rain was coming hard and fast, still deafening. In the next wash of light, she saw someone moving toward her fast.

The next thing she knew, there were hands on her, dragging her back toward shore. This man was bigger, stronger, than the one who’d come in out of the rain. He was impossibly powerful, lifting her effortlessly as she screamed and thrashed, writhing to be free of his grip around her chest.

Her mind was a siren of panic, but it caused something primal to come alive in her, forcing her to fight with all her strength. It was not enough. Her breath was coming hard and too shallow; his arms were a vise.

In the next lightning flash, she saw Rob standing on the shore.

“Rob!” she yelled. Her voice sounded like a whisper to her own ears. She could hardly draw a breath into her aching lungs. There was a dancing of white stars before her eyes. “Help me!”

Finally, he came toward her, holding a coil of rope in his hands. A scream escaped her, but it sounded strangled and weak. Anyway, who was there to hear her—her teenage daughter and friend, her seventy-five-year-old mother? No one would hear in the storm. Kate was on her own. She thought about Brendan and Sean, wished for the hundredth time that she had waited for them. What were these men going to do to her? To all of them?

Instead of reaching for her, Rob looped the rope around the larger man’s neck and started pulling hard. The man released Kate
suddenly, and she fell to the ground. She felt a blessed relief from the crushing grip on her chest as air swept into her lungs.

She lay weak and helpless for a moment as the two men struggled and then fell to the ground. Every nerve ending in her body throbbed with fear while she watched them in their horrifying dance. She started crawling away, the breath slowly returning to her body. She saw a flash and heard a sharp report.

Her mother had taught her how to shoot a gun on this very island, and she recognized the sound. But where the shot came from, she couldn’t tell. The two men still struggled, one mass of rage in the storm.

Crushed by sound and wind, by a white bolt of terror that shot right through her, she didn’t know what to think or do. She found herself obeying the only instinct she had: get to her child. She gathered her strength and started to run as best as she could for the guesthouse.

chapter twenty-seven

I
n all his life, Dean Freeman had wanted only one thing: to not be the worthless piece of crap his father always thought he was. But that desire seemed a distant memory, a dream he’d had and couldn’t quite remember. He felt tired now, and so cold. Brad loomed over him like some kind of ghoul, panting and staring down at him. A long time ago, they’d been friends. Not that Brad hadn’t always been a cold-hearted bastard. But Dean remembered liking the guy once. This was not how he’d thought things would go between them when they used to drink beer under the palm trees on Clearwater Beach, hiding the case under a blanket so the cops wouldn’t see.

The pain in his center was so intense that there was no sound he could make. It seemed to spread from his middle and down his legs like some kind of silent scream. With every breath he took, he felt more blood gush from his side. It was thick and warm against his hand. He wasn’t afraid. Maybe he should be, but he found he wasn’t.
I’m sorry, Emily
.

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