The Mysterious Stranger (Triple Trouble) (2 page)

* * *

Fallon made an early start the next morning. Along with her breakfast, she’d had room service deliver a box lunch and a couple of bottles of water. She put the food in an old canvas tote, along with sunscreen and a towel.

She pulled the door firmly shut behind her and checked to make sure it was locked. Then she headed out to the beach. It was barely after eight and the soft white sand was deserted except for a few diehard joggers at the water’s edge. Fallon didn’t feel any need to join them. If she made it to the house and back, she would have gone eight miles. That was enough exercise for anyone.

Waves rolled in to the shore. The rhythmic sound soothed her. She adjusted the wide-brimmed wicker hat she wore and smiled. No matter the outcome of her journey, she was glad she’d decided to make it. She’d spent the past several months in a classroom with twenty-eight bright, active ten-year-olds. She needed a break.

Three hours later Fallon’s easy stride had turned into a ragged stumble. Her thighs ached from the constant pull of the fine sand. She’d worn athletic shoes in case she had to climb over anything, but except for the twenty-foot sheer cliff on her right, there weren’t rocks on St. Alicia. There wasn’t anything but sun, sand and water. Endless sea that stretched out to eternity. And who knew the sun could be so hot?

Fallon pulled off her hat and waved it in front of her face. If the heat on her cheeks and shoulders was anything to go by, SPF 30 sunscreen hadn’t been enough to keep her pale skin from burning. In the past two hours she hadn’t seen another living soul, nor any signs that the area was indeed inhabited. If she hadn’t actually spent a couple of nights at a beautiful resort, she would have sworn she’d been dropped onto a deserted island by mistake.

“You would have made a lousy navy SEAL,” she told herself as she plopped down on the sand. She settled her hat back on her head and thought longingly of shade. Lovely, cool shade. There was plenty to be had…in the lush riot of vegetation she’d left behind at the hotel. Just none here.

“A lousy navy SEAL and not much of an adventuress,” she said, digging in her tote bag for a water bottle. She’d finished the first one and was halfway through a second. San Francisco winter hadn’t prepared her for the heat of the tropics. It might be December on the calendar, but no one had told the sun beating down on her.

She wiped her sweaty face on her towel, then opened her box lunch. There were few problems in life that couldn’t be aided by a sandwich or some cookies.

When she’d finished her meal, she spread out her map and wondered how far she’d come. Joshua had said the main house was only four miles. She must be close. If only Anna Jane had thought to draw the map to scale.

Fallon grinned at the thought, then sighed sleepily. It was the heat, she knew. She was feeling a little light-headed. Maybe she should just close her eyes for a minute.

She tucked the letter in her pocket, stretched out on the sand and used her hat to cover her face. Within seconds she was drifting off, almost asleep but faintly aware of the passage of time. Something soft and comforting cradled her, lifting her up, higher and higher. She drew in a deep breath—

And came up choking.

Fallon’s eyes popped open. Something was terribly wrong. Her mind took precious seconds to clear, and all the while she struggled to catch her breath, to clear her lungs, to breathe! She stared around in horror as she realized the tide had come in to the sheltered cove and she was at risk of drowning. The water was up to the cliff, covering the entire beach.

Stay calm, she told herself. She tried to relax, to let herself float. Everything was going to be fine. She could swim. It was just the tide. The cove wasn’t that big. If she had to, she would swim in the direction of the resort, and eventually she would come to the beach where she’d been walking and be able to make shore. It wasn’t that far.

When her panic faded to a manageable level, she rolled onto her stomach and started swimming back the way she’d come. She worked at an angle, heading close to the cliffs in hopes of being able to touch bottom. The water didn’t look as deep there.

Her long hair swirled around her face and she brushed it away. When her feet felt heavy, she kicked off her shoes. She’d nearly reached the cliff wall when the first cramp struck.

The pain shocked her and she doubled over in distress. As she gasped, she swallowed a mouthful of water and started to choke. With the second cramp, panic returned and Fallon started to cry. She coughed and held her side, all the while struggling to stay afloat in the warm sea.

A wave broke over her, pushing her toward the cliff. The rocky walls loomed closer. She kicked away from them and managed to draw a clean breath. Then her stomach convulsed again. The next wave pushed her nearer to the unforgiving stone. She held out her hand to brace herself but it wasn’t enough. The last thing she remembered was the searing impact of slamming into the rigid, vertical surface.

* * *

“Tell them the bid is final,” Jarrett Wilkenson said, turning his back on the spectacular view exposed by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows in his office. “Either they sign or we walk away. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied briskly. “Just two more items on the agenda.”

Jarrett pulled a sheet of paper toward him and crossed off the third-last line. These biweekly conference calls took a lot of time, but they were easier than flying back to the States and meeting with everyone in person.

“There is still the matter of the Riverbend hotel,” his caller said. “According to my sources…”

The door to Jarrett’s office flew open. Anna Jane dashed into the room. “Uncle Jarrett, come quick! There’s an emergency.”

He glanced at his niece. Her dark eyes were wide with fear.

“Hold on, Roberts,” he said, and pressed the Mute button. “What is it?” he asked the girl.

She skittered to a stop in front of his desk and pressed her hands tightly together. “There’s a lady on the beach,” she said quickly. “Frank said she probably got caught in the cove and washed ashore. She’s hurt. He says she needs a doctor.”

Jarrett nodded. He released the Mute button and spoke.

“We’ll pick this up later, Roberts. I have to take care of something here.” He hung up without waiting for a reply. By pressing two different buttons, he engaged his autodialer. When a woman answered the phone, he explained about the injured person on the beach and received confirmation the doctor would be sent right away.

He rosé to his feet and started for the door. A mysterious woman washing up on his beach. He grimaced. It was a good trick—original, if risky. But they were often willing to take incredible risks to get to him. Somehow he’d thought he would be safe here. For a while he had been.

He crossed the foyer of the large house and headed for the rear doors. From there it was a short walk to the beach.

The woman had probably made her way up from the resort. Had she known about the danger of high tide in the cove? Had she counted on it? Or hadn’t she noticed the watermarks on the stony cliffs?

It didn’t matter, he told himself. As soon as the doctor arrived, the woman could be transported back wherever she belonged. If he was smart, he wouldn’t even risk meeting her. Yet he couldn’t stay away. He had to see her face. He had to make sure she was alive.

“Uncle Jarrett?” The breathless call from behind him reminded him he’d left Anna Jane in his office. He slowed his long stride and waited for the girl to catch up. She trotted toward him and raised her small, stubborn chin until she could see his face. “Uncle Jarrett, I think I did a bad thing.”

Her lower lip trembled at the admission. At times he could see traces of his sister in Anna Jane’s face. Shadows of familiar expressions, words spoken in a certain tone or cadence that took him back to a nearly forgotten past. But other times, his niece was a stranger. Perhaps because he’d seen her only half a dozen times in her young life. Until he’d brought her here after her mother’s funeral a few weeks ago, they’d never been alone together.

A bad thing? What did that mean? What did he know of children and their faults? Tracy should have named someone else as the girl’s guardian. A friend with children of her own. Someone who knew what to do when faced with big eyes and a confession of wrongdoing.

“I see,” he said.

Anna Jane nodded. “I didn’t mean to. I was lonely and I wanted someone to play with so I wrote a letter.”

“That’s hardly bad,” he said, turning away and starting for the beach.

“There’s more.”

He paused and glanced back at her. The path angled down to the beach. Anna Jane stood at the crest of the rise, a small figure dwarfed by the large trees and the three-story house behind her. He heard her words for the first time. I was lonely.

Loneliness was a familiar companion in his world. He’d grown to accept it as one accepts a chronic pain or an annoying relative who has decided to move in. Yet he hadn’t thought about a child being lonely. Weren’t children always going and doing? Again he wondered what Tracy had been thinking when she’d written her will. Then he reminded himself his sister had not expected to die so young.

He stared at the forlorn little girl and wished he could do better for her.

“I asked whoever got the letter to come visit me,” Anna Jane continued. “I drew a map of the island and marked the house.”

“I don’t see what—”

“I put the letter in a bottle, then sent it out in the water,” she interrupted. “That’s why she came. She found my letter and now she’s going to die.”

Like Mommy. Anna Jane didn’t say the words, but Jarrett heard them. Loneliness and guilt. A pair of hounds that guarded the gates of hell. How would he explain that none of this was her fault?

“If you put your bottle in the ocean recently, it wouldn’t have had time to get to another island,” he said.

Her hands twisted together as she considered the information, then she smiled. “You’re right. I just sent the bottle yesterday.” She walked to his side and touched his arm. “Thanks, Uncle Jarrett.”

“No problem. Let’s go check on our mystery guest.”

He led the way down to the beach. Frank and Leona, the married couple who acted as housekeeper and head gardener for the estate, crouched beside a still figure on the sand.

“Stay here,” he told Anna Jane, then crossed the last twenty feet to the woman.

Leona stood as he approached. “Oh, Mr. Jarrett, Anna Jane told you about her. Poor thing.” She motioned to the woman. “She’s breathing, but she won’t wake up. Frank says there’s no way to tell what’s wrong. Did you call the doctor? Do you know who she is? One of the guests, perhaps. Or someone on a day sail. She could have fallen off her boat.”

Leona continued to list an assortment of possible fates, all of which ended badly. Jarrett knelt next to the woman and pressed his fingers against her neck. A faint pulse thudded steadily.

“You know her?” he asked his gardener, suspecting the answer in advance.

“No.”

Jarrett studied the still figure. Except for the dark bruise on the left side of her face, a gash on her forehead and the scratches on her arms and legs, she was pale. Long blond hair fanned out on the sand. She wore a one-piece swimsuit and shorts. No shoes. Mid-twenties, pretty. He’d never seen her before in his life.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” Frank said.

“Good.”

Giving in to the inevitable, Jarrett scooped the unconscious woman up in his arms and carried her back to the house. By the time he’d placed her in one of the guest bedrooms, Dr. John Reed had arrived. Leona showed him upstairs, and Jarrett met him in the doorway.

The two men shook hands. John had graduated from a prestigious medical school and gone into a high-volume, lucrative practice in New York. After fifteen years he’d been close to burning out. Jarrett had offered him tropical paradise, a waterfront home and enough money to enjoy his new life. The island had its first resident doctor and John Reed had avoided leaving medicine altogether.

“What’s going on?” the older man asked as he approached the woman lying on the bed.

Jarrett filled him in with what he knew. He sensed Leona, Frank and Anna Jane hovering in the doorway.

“She’s young,” John said. “Pretty, too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jarrett couldn’t have been less interested.

John examined her. “Nothing broken. Just scrapes. She probably swallowed a lot of water. I—”

A soft moan cut him off. Jarrett moved closer to the bed. The woman’s eyes fluttered, then opened. Her irises were the color of summer grass. Pure green. She blinked.

“What—” She broke off and coughed.

John sat on the bed next to her and smiled. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. You had a little accident in the ocean, but you’re okay now. I’m Dr. John Reed. Take a deep breath before you try to talk.”

The woman did as she was instructed. “I was in the ocean?” she asked. She glanced around the room. “Where am I?”

“In a private residence,” John said. “How do you feel?”

The woman shifted, then winced. “Sore, but okay.” She reached up and touched her face. “Did I hit something?”

“It looks that way.” John shone a penlight into her eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two,” the woman said. “I’m not dizzy, if that’s what you’re trying to find out. The room’s not spinning or anything. My stomach’s a little upset and I feel shaken, but not badly injured.”

“Good.” He glanced at Jarrett. “I’d like to keep her quiet for the next day or so before moving her, but I think she’s going to be fine.”

Jarrett swallowed his instinctive refusal. John knew enough about his past that he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t think it was important. “Fine,” he said between clenched teeth.

John turned his attention back to his patient. “I want you to stay in bed for the rest of the afternoon. You’ve been traumatized. Your body needs to recover.” He frowned. “I’ve been out in the sun too long,” he said. “I forgot to ask your name.”

The woman smiled. “You had a few other things on your mind. I’m…” She paused, her mouth open. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. The smile faded and her eyes widened slightly. Fingers fluttered as her hand reached out into air, grasping for something he couldn’t see.