The Selkie Spell (Seal Island Trilogy) (30 page)

Padraig came back out of the kitchen, leading Dominic by the elbow.

Cory pulled the folded picture Dominic had given him earlier out of his pocket.  “You told me you would tell me when, and
if
, this turned into police business.”

“Uncuff me.”

“Not a chance.”

“
Un
cuff me.”

Cory shoved the picture at Dominic.  “What does
this
man have to do with your girlfriend?”

“He’s her husband,” Sam said, stepping into the room.

“Who the hell are you?” Cory demanded, taking in the tall, blond American man striding into the room like he had every right to be there.

“I’m the person he hired to find her.”

Dominic’s eyes cut to Sam’s face.  Every muscle in his body clenched in cold, hard fury.  “
Un
cuff me!”

“Dominic,” Glenna asked, following Sam into the room.  “
Where
is Tara?”

Chief Walsh turned to face her.  “That’s what we’d like to know.”

“She’s not here?”

Dominic shook his head, his eyes never leaving Sam’s face.

Sam scanned the room, counting the officers.  “Are the rest of your men still stationed at the pier?”

“Excuse me?” Chief Walsh snapped.

“The rest of your men?  Are there any left at the pier?”

The chief caught the panicked look on Glenna’s face.  “They went after the woman.”

“So there’s no one watching for Philip?”

“No.”

***

Tara threaded her way through the mass of people swarming over the pier.  She scanned the boats, searching for Donal’s.

“Are we going on the ferry?” Kelsey asked, running to keep up with her.

“No.”

“Are we going out on a boat?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s boat?”

Donal’s, Tara thought. 
I hope.

“Are we coming back for the fireworks tonight?”

Tara pulled her past a family and their three dogs.  “I don’t think so.”

“Is dad going to come with us?”

“No.”

“Does he know where we’re going?”

“Not yet.”  Tara slipped through a hole in the crush of people, pulling Kelsey along.  “But he will.”

“Shouldn’t we tell him now?  Before we go?”

“As soon as we get there, I’ll call him.”  Tara felt a wave of relief rush through her when she spotted Donal’s boat tied to the end of the pier and the keys still dangling in the ignition.  “I promise.”

A group of teenagers ran past them, laughing and roughhousing, forcing them apart.

Tara reached for Kelsey’s hand, but another wave of tourists clambered down from the ferry, separating them even further.

“Kelsey!” Tara called out, shouting over the deafening roar of the ferry’s engine.

“Tara?”

Tara searched the growing crowd for Kelsey, fighting against the surge pushing her back toward the edge.

Something sharp and painful cut into her side and she jerked, gasping when cold fingers closed around her wrist.  “Going somewhere, Sydney?”

The familiar voice so close to her ear had her blood running cold.  She opened her mouth to scream, but the knife point cut into her side, and no sound came out.

“Tara?” Kelsey called out, her small voice snatched up by the wind.

Tara heard Kelsey’s frightened voice, even further away now, as another swell of people slammed into them and the man holding the knife to her back pulled her away from the crowd, shoving her into a small powerboat.

“Drive,” Philip seethed, pushing her behind the wheel.  “And don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Kelsey pushed through the crush of people, all heading in the other direction.  “Tara?” she called out, trying to see through the sea of legs to the end of the pier.  The dark waters churned, knocking the smaller boats against the pilings.  Her hands reached blindly for the line mooring the ferry to the pier and she followed it, end over end, to the edge of the pier.  Hips and backpacks jostled her, but she clutched the wet rope, searching the faces for Tara’s.

“Kelsey?” the ferry captain shouted down from the bow of the boat.  “Is that you?”

Kelsey squinted up at the captain and nodded.  “It’s me.”

“What are you doing down here?  Where’s your father?”

“I’m looking for Tara!”

The captain scanned the thinning crowd and then looked back at Kelsey.  “I haven’t seen her.”

“But she was just here!”

“Maybe she went for a swim,” the captain joked, but his smile faded as Kelsey raced to the edge of the pier and peered down into the water.  “I was just kidding, love.”

“I don’t understand!”  Kelsey’s eyes combed the surface of the harbor.  Powerboats zipped in and out of the channel, but she couldn’t make out Tara in any of them.  “Where did she go?”

“Do you want me to walk you up to the pub?” Finn asked, worried now.

“I can’t go back there!”

“Why not?”

“Because!”  Kelsey felt for her necklace, for the pendant dangling from the chain around her neck. 
‘I want you to stay by my side this weekend, but if by some chance we get separated, I want you to blow on this as hard as you can so I can find you.’

Lifting the whistle to her lips, Kelsey started to blow.

***

“I expected more from you, Sydney,” Philip said.  “You’ve never been very bright, but I expected more from you than this.”

“What do you mean?” 
Keep him talking.  If she could keep him talking maybe she could drive far enough toward something. A spit of land.  A boat full of fishermen.

“A waitress?”  He dragged the tip of the knife down her arm.  “On a rundown island in the middle of the north Atlantic?”

The boat bounced over the choppy surface of the ocean.  “Chef.”  The wind whipped at her hair, slapping like wet ropes into her eyes.  “I was working as a chef.”

“Really?”  The blade stopped moving.  “I never knew you liked cooking.”

It was so wide, so vast—the cold sapphire water spreading out in every direction around them.  “I didn’t either.”

“Are you any good at it?”

“No.”

Philip laughed quietly.  “You were never very good at much, were you?”

She edged the wheel, just the slightest twitch to the right. 
If she could distract him—keep him focused on her and away from the water for long enough—maybe she could get to the Skelligs.  There were always fishermen trolling the north side of the Skelligs.
  “I was good at being your wife.”

“You were never very good at that either, I’m afraid.”

“No?”  Another slight twitch, almost imperceptibly, to the right.

Philip shook his head, sadly.  “I tried to teach you.  To help you learn.  But you weren’t a quick study.  It always took you a while to catch on.  To
get
it.”

“I tried, though.”  Tara kept her eyes on the ocean, kept her gaze focused on that single spot on the horizon where the rocks were starting to form.  “I tried to learn.”

“Not hard enough, Sydney.”

Tara felt the tip of the knife prick her skin, and she tightened her hands on the wheel.  “Then why did you keep me around for so long?”

Philip’s voice hardened.  “Because you are my wife.”

“You could have divorced me.  You could have found someone better.”

“Divorce?”  His eyes went dark.  “I don’t believe in divorce.”

“But if—”

“
You
are my wife. 
You
bound yourself to me—until death do us part—on our wedding day.”

She had pushed it too far.  She had taken it one step over the line.  Just like she always did.  He was right.  She never learned.
  “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant,” Philip said softly, his voice cold as ice.  “You didn’t miss me, did you?”  The tip of the blade curved over the neckline of her shirt.

The boat lurched, pounding faster over the churning surf.  She flinched when the knife trailed over her exposed skin and he smiled, enjoying her fear.

“Tell me you missed me, Sydney.”

Her knuckles went white on the wheel when his hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back, exposing her throat to the blade.

“Tell me.”

Tara jerked the wheel and he flew back, his head banging against the side of the boat.  She spun the boat around, pushing the throttle up as fast it as it would go, racing back toward the island.  She watched the village come into view, praying he’d stay under so she could get back to the harbor, so she could call for help.  When he started to stir, she yanked the wheel again.  But he came up in a crouch, shoving off the side of the boat where his skin had broken and blood dripped over the white fiberglass.  “That wasn’t very nice of you, Sydney.”

“I didn’t miss you,” she breathed.  “I would rather die than be with you.”

His eyes narrowed to slits as he crossed the middle line of the boat.

Her eyes cut to her cottage, to the sliver of beach underneath.  They were close enough to swim.  Close enough to get to the beach.  She jerked the wheel, pointing the bow straight at a jagged outcropping of rocks.

***

“Kelsey!”  Caitlin ran onto the pier, racing to the end where Kelsey stood, blowing as hard as she could into the whistle.  “Kelsey, what’s the matter?”  She grabbed the whistle, pulling it out of her mouth.  “What are you doing out here?  You’re supposed to be in the pub with your father!”

“I can’t find Tara!”

“What are you talking about?  She’s in the pub.”

“No she’s not!  She told me to stay where I was and blow on my whistle if we got separated.  That’s what I’m doing!”  She reached for the whistle again but Caitlin closed her hand over it, stopping her.

“Kelsey’s right,” the ferry captain said, his gravelly voice edged with worry as he climbed back out of the cabin.  “I just called up there and she’s not in the pub.”  He looked hard at Caitlin.  “The police are looking for her.”

“
What?
”

“We ran away together,” Kelsey cried.  “And then she disappeared!”

Caitlin felt the knot of cold dread form in the pit of her stomach.  “What do you mean she
disappeared
?”

“We were right here!” Kelsey pointed to the spot where they were standing.  “We were going to take a boat ride somewhere.  But she wouldn’t tell me where.”

“Why?” Caitlin grabbed her small shoulders.  “Why were you going to take a boat ride?”

“I don’t know.”  Kelsey shook her head, her curls bouncing from side to side.  “We were upstairs in my room and we heard this loud noise downstairs and she went to see what it was.”

“Caitlin,” the captain called down.  “We need to talk.”

“In a minute,” Caitlin answered, looking back at Kelsey’s frightened face.  “Keep going.”

“She came back into my room and we crawled out the window.  She said we needed to leave and I needed to trust her and then we came here.”  Her eyes searched the pier, scanning the faces of the tourists wandering the shoreline along the harbor.  “And then she just disappeared.”

“Come on.”  Caitlin scooped her up.  “We need to find your father.”

“Caitlin,” the captain barked.

“What?”

“Something’s happened.  With Dominic.”

“What?  What’s happened?”

“He’s been arrested.”

“Arrested?” Caitlin cried.

The captain nodded.  “Just a few minutes ago.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know.  Do you know why the police are looking for Tara?”

“Yes,” Caitlin cried, shifting Kelsey onto her hip and starting to run.  “But they’re looking for the wrong person!”

Kelsey’s fingers bit into Caitlin’s shoulders as she clung to her.  “Are they going to take my dad away from me?”

“No.”  Caitlin raced up the hill, weaving in and out of the families and shop-cart vendors.  “I won’t let them.”

“They took my mom away.”

“I know.  But that was different.  This is all a big mistake.”

Tears stung Kelsey’s eyes as they made their way to the pub.  “I didn’t mean to run away!”

“I know.”  Caitlin grabbed the door, wrenched it open.  “None of this is your fault.  We’ll settle this ridiculous situation with your father.  And then we’ll find Tara.  Cory Walsh,” she shouted, striding into the room.  “What the
hell
do you think you’re doing?”

“Dad?” Kelsey cried when Caitlin set her down.  She raced over to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“It’s okay,” Dominic said, dropping to his knees and wrapping his recently freed arms around his daughter.  “Shhh,” he soothed even though every muscle in his body was coiled with tension.  “Everything’s going to be fine.”