The Island Read online

  She closed her eyes again, took a deep breath and opened them. She frowned. The guard was gone again. She leaned to look out the passenger window to see where he had gone.

  That was when someone loomed up in the driver’s window.

  BEN KNEW THEY SHOULD LEAVE, but he was really enjoying the evening. Amber was smiling and playful, almost like she had been when she was younger.

  She was a good kid, he reminded himself. Talented, driven. He was lucky.

  “Did you notice that yacht anchored on the other side of the Sea Witch?” Mark asked Ben.

  “Huh? Sorry…I was drifting, I guess,” Ben apologized.

  “It’s a night for that, isn’t it?” Mark said.

  “I don’t think I’ve noticed any new boats around,” Ben said.

  “She’s a real beauty. I’d love an invitation on to her!”

  “What is she?”

  “Motor yacht. Looks like she’s fitted for anything in the world you could think of doing out on the water,” Mark said.

  “Oh, yeah? Some guys out on Calliope over the weekend had a boat like that,” Ben said.

  “Were you on it?”

  “You bet. It really was fitted out for anything in the world.”

  “Well, if it’s the same guys and you know them, get me an invitation,” Mark said.

  Ben nodded. “There were three of them. A guy named Lee Gomez owns her. His friends were Keith Henson and Matt Albright.”

  “Yeah? What do they do for a living?”

  “Family money bought the boat.”

  “There you go. Can’t beat family money.”

  “Nope. Better to earn it yourself,” Ben protested.

  Mark laughed. “You see it your way, I’ll see it mine. Doesn’t matter—I don’t have any family money coming my way, so I guess I’ll have to go with that damn earning it thing. Well. I’m going to change and get out of here. If you see those guys, though, hang on to them and call me.”

  “Sure thing,” Ben said. He looked over at Amber. She had been lying on one of the nearby lounges, but now she was staring at him. She looked a little ashen, or maybe it was just the light.

  “You think it’s them?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Could be. I think somewhere along the line I said they were welcome here anytime. I thought you liked them.”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m going to shower and change, Dad. You about ready?”

  “Yup.” He rose and set an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

  She didn’t shake him off. She suddenly seemed glad of his arm.

  SOMEHOW BETH REFRAINED FROM screaming, then was glad she had.

  It was just Manny, tapping at her window.

  She turned the key in the ignition, then rolled down the power window. “Hey, Manny.”

  “Hi, gorgeous. I hear we’re having a salsa night at the Summer Sizzler.” He sounded pleased.

  “Yes, do you like the idea?”

  “Love it. Maria will be dancing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wonderful. Well, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He started to walk away, but before she rolled the window up, he turned back to her.

  “Did you go out to the beach and see Eduardo Shea?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  “What did you think?”

  She was startled by the question. “Um, he seemed to have a lot of love and respect for the Monocos, and he also seemed to like my idea. I think he likes the fact that most of our members can afford dance lessons if they like the taste they get at the Summer Sizzler.”

  Manny was studying her strangely, she thought.

  But everything that night had seemed strange. It was definitely her, she decided.

  Manny shrugged. “Sounds good.”

  “I hope so. Actually, some of our members have already taken lessons at the studio.”

  She was curious to see if he would ask her who—or if he would already know.

  “Oh, of course. The Masons dance.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m sure it will be a fantastic evening. Good night.”

  Nothing suspicious there, she told herself dryly. “Good night,” she returned.

  He walked away. She rolled up her window and, shaking her head, started out. The guard was in his booth as she drove past.

  A creepy feeling crawled up her neck, and she threw her car into Park at the entrance to the main road.

  She turned, almost dreading what she might find, and looked carefully into her back seat.

  There was nothing there.

  Her car was an SUV, with plenty of room in the back. She actually got out, circled to the rear and stared into the back, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was empty of everything other than her mask, fins and a towel.

  Feeling like a fool, she hopped into the driver’s seat and headed home.

  BEN OPENED HIS LOCKER and frowned. He wasn’t obsessive-compulsive in any way, but neither was he a slob, and something seemed…out of order, somehow.

  He looked over everything. His jacket was hanging on the hook. His shoes and suit pants were on the first shelf, his toiletries on the middle shelf. The things he kept on the upper shelf were there, just as they had been. Stuff he kept at the club that was only used at the club. His silly St. Patrick’s Day T-shirt, his Halloween glow sticks and vampire teeth were there, along with the plastic eggs that members put pennies in for the little kids to find at Easter. His schlocky vampire cape was folded over everything else.

  He couldn’t think of a thing that was missing.

  He checked for his wallet and found it right where it should have been, in the pocket of his trousers. His keys were there, as well. There was nothing missing.

  He still had the feeling someone had been in his locker.

  With a little oath of self-disgust, he got his clothing, slammed the door and headed for the showers.

  BETH LOVED HER HOUSE. It was a row house, right on Mary Street. Although it wasn’t really that old—no more than thirty or so years—it had been built in the old Spanish style. She had a little front yard to go with it, and a matching backyard. The entire diminutive community was enclosed by a high iron fence, with each house possessed of an individual gate for its front walk.

  Her yard boasted a palm and a lime tree, and in the little garden area, she had different kinds of flowers in a brick plant bed. Her porch area had a swing seat.

  It was no problem to leave her car overnight on the street, since pay parking ended at midnight and didn’t begin again until nine the next morning. The Grove was one of those places that wasn’t in a hurry to get up in the morning. Few places—other than banks—opened before ten o’clock, and lots of the shops didn’t open until eleven.

  She parked in front of her house, then opened her unlocked gate and headed for the door, only to discover that whatever paranoia had gripped her at the club had apparently followed her home. As she headed up the little walk, she was suddenly certain she saw a shadow on the street.

  A shadow that was there, then gone.

  The streets here—absolutely beloved by day—suddenly seemed eerie by night. Coconut Grove was famous for the lush foliage so many home owners encouraged, but by night, especially when there was a moon, there were shadows. And rustling leaves. Always. It was something she didn’t usually think about.

  But tonight…

  She hurried up the steps to her door. On her way, she dropped her keys. She bent to retrieve them and looked back toward the street, certain she’d heard footsteps.

  There was a huge oak just down the street.

  It seemed that—just as they had in the parking lot at the club—a smaller shadow suddenly merged with the larger one of the tree.

  As if someone had slipped behind the oak.

  She quickly retrieved the keys and cursed when her fingers shook.

  She got the key into the lock and twisted it. The door opened. She stepped inside, slammed it shut and leaned against it, qui
ckly turning off, then resetting, the alarm, and locking the door.

  The prickling of unease at her nape remained. She didn’t turn the lights on but eased around to the window, kneeling on the couch and just touching the drapes, determined to look out. Her eyes widened.

  She hadn’t imagined it.

  There had been two shadows.

  A man emerged from behind the tree.

  She could make out nothing about him, other than the fact that he was tall.

  And that he was watching her house.

  She sat back quickly in the dark, amazed and, oddly, not as terrified as she might have been.

  At least she wasn’t crazy.

  She looked out again quickly, realizing that she needed to watch him, needed to see where he went, what he did.

  But when she looked out again, he was already gone.

  It was then that fear set in.

  Had he already moved closer to the house? Was he trying to find a way in…?

  Was he out there, closer still, nearly breathing down her neck?

  What to do…call the police?

  And say what? There had been a man standing on a public street?

  She shook her head, got up and suddenly went into speedy motion, running around the downstairs first, checking every window, running through to the back, checking to see that both bolts were secure, then heading upstairs and assuring herself again that all her windows—and the glass doors to the upstairs balcony—were securely fastened.

  She was certain she was never going to be able to sleep that night.

  She dragged a pillow and blanket downstairs. In the living room, she set up a bed on the couch, then stood still in the middle of the room.

  She had lights on everywhere. That was probably stupid—in fact there was no “probably” about it.

  But she didn’t want to sit in the dark.

  At least she had heavy drapes. Coconut Grove was the kind of place where people walked all the time, where they took out their bicycles and ran with their dogs. She loved living where she did, but she also liked privacy, so her drapes kept her safe from the public eye.

  She turned on the television. If she was going to sleep tonight, it would be with the television on and every light blazing. Fine.

  As a last precaution, she dragged one of the heavy end chairs from the dining-room table and set it in front of the front door. Foolish? Maybe, but she couldn’t help remembering the skull jumping out at her from the computer, and the words that had been written there.

  I’ll be seeing you soon. In the dark. All alone.

  She knew she was being foolish. Amber had written the words. She had admitted it.

  Still…

  Someone had been out there, and there was nothing wrong with being careful.

  Finally satisfied, she lay down on the couch, and hit the channel changer until she got to Nickelodeon. There was little likelihood of anything coming on that might scare her into a further fit of unease.

  A vintage sitcom was playing, just as she had expected.

  She eased her head against the pillow, smiling a little wryly at herself. This was all absolutely ridiculous. No reason to be afraid.

  Then something thudded against the front door.

  Sharp, hard, startling.

  She bolted upright.

  “DOWEREALLYHAVETOGOBY Beth’s place now?” Ben asked, puzzled. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

  “I have something of hers, Dad,” Amber explained. “Something—personal.”

  He assumed his daughter had taken some of his sister’s female necessities and was in a panic to give them back.

  Whatever.

  It had been a great night, but he was tired.

  “Dad, she’s only two minutes away,” Amber said.

  He forced himself to grin at his daughter. “Liar,” he accused with fake ferocity. “It’s at least five minutes.”

  “Dad,” Amber groaned.

  “All right, all right, we’re going.”

  They turned onto Beth’s street, and he pulled his car up behind hers.

  He frowned. Something seemed to be lying on the porch. A dark…lump.

  “Um, Amber, stay in the car for a minute, huh?” he said.

  He opened the gate and hurried along the walkway. His heart sank. It was an animal. Bending down, he saw that it was a cat. A black cat, and one that had evidently been in an accident. Poor thing; it had probably crawled off the street and on to Beth’s porch. Maybe it had somehow known that a softie lived inside, a woman who would have rushed a strange animal right to the vet, no matter what the cost, if the creature had lived.

  He hesitated. He didn’t want his daughter or his sister seeing the badly mangled creature.

  Amber was starting to get out of the car.

  “Stay back!” he told her.

  He returned to the car himself and opened his trunk. He tended to keep extra supplies for the boat in the trunk. Paper towels, toilet paper, dish detergent and, luckily, trash bags.

  He went back for the cat.

  “Dad?” Amber called.

  He picked up the dead animal, deciding he would get rid of it without either woman knowing what had happened. “It’s all right, honey. Just a mess of foliage,” he called to his daughter.

  He bagged the cat and walked around to the trunk. As he dropped it in, Amber emerged from the car.

  With his daughter in his wake, he headed up the steps again and rang the bell. There was no answer. He rang again, then pounded on the door, which flew open.

  Somehow, instinct warned him, and he ducked—right before a burst of pepper spray could hit him in the eyes.

  “I’m calling the police, you pervert!” his sister swore, just before the door slammed shut.

  10

  THEY PULLED THE DINGHY UP to one of the club docks. Matt leaped out first, ready to secure the small boat.

  “Nice place,” Keith murmured, following behind him.

  Before Lee had even joined them, Keith heard a cry. “It is you!”

  Lithe and sleek as ever, Amanda Mason was sashaying down the dock. “How delightful.”

  “Amanda,” he murmured.

  She hugged and kissed all three of them, as if they were long-lost relatives.

  “I wondered when you all would make it in,” she said. She was in a sundress, the kind that showed off the perfection of her figure but also seemed fine for a casual night out.

  Her sandals were studded with rhinestones. Her toes were painted perfectly.

  “We decided we needed a little civilization,” Lee said.

  “Oh, honey, no one ever promised to be civil,” Amanda said. “Come on in. We were about to leave. Thank goodness we waited. Daddy is here, and both my cousins are here tonight, too. It will be just like old-home week on Calliope. Well, minus Sandy and Brad. And I think the Andersons all just went home, too. But come on, Daddy would love to buy you guys a drink.”

  “We should buy your father the drink—we’re invading his territory,” Keith said. He wanted to remain polite and friendly, even flirty. But it was difficult with Amanda. A bit too much encouragement and she would be all over a man. Under different circumstances, he might not have minded, but right now, he had business to see to. He had an address, and Lee had called ahead for a car. It should be arriving within the next half hour.

  “So, the Andersons just left, huh?” Lee said.

  Amanda pouted as if that was the saddest news in the world. “Just a little while ago. Come on.”

  She linked arms with Lee and Keith; Matt was left to trail behind.

  “Actually, you’re in luck. Do you know who’s here tonight?” she whispered.

  “Who?” Lee asked.

  “Maria Lopez, the award-winning dancer. If you stick around for our big event—the Summer Sizzler—you’ll get to see a real salsa queen in action.” She shrugged. “An aging queen, but the woman can dance. We’re in the dining room,” she said.

  She led them into the dining room, with
its teak trim, polished bar, sea-blue carpeting and white marble tiles.

  “There they are,” she said.

  The three men rose as Amanda returned. They had evidently just eaten. Waiters were clearing the table.

  Except…

  It didn’t look as if Roger had eaten after all. His spot was crumb free, there were no used plates, and the silver remained wrapped in a linen napkin.

  Apparently Roger had just arrived as well, Keith thought, though that didn’t have to mean a thing.

  As the plates were swept away, coffee was being served.

  “In from the sea at last,” Roger said. Tonight, the patriarch of the clan was in a white suit. He wore it well.

  Hank was more casual in a calypso shirt, and Gerald was wearing perfectly starched trousers and a tailored shirt, looking as if he had just shed his jacket and tie.

  “So how’s life been going out on Calliope Key?” Hank asked politely.

  “Fine,” Matt said. “What’s not to enjoy about beautiful days out on the water?”

  “Are you staying on the boat now, or still camping?” Roger asked.

  “Mainly on the boat,” Lee told him.

  “Diving, diving, diving, huh?” Roger said.

  “Nice life when you can get it,” Keith admitted.

  “Discovered anything out there?” Roger asked.

  “Clown fish, angels…rays—saw a huge ray yesterday,” Lee said.

  “No sign of any wrecks?” Roger asked.

  “No. Should we have seen something?” Lee asked.

  Roger shrugged. “It’s shipwreck city in these waters,” he said.

  “Did you see my girl out there?” Hank asked the newcomers. “The Southern Light has her berth here.”

  “We saw her,” Keith said, thanking the waiter who was bringing over more chairs. “She’s a beauty. Your club is great, too.”

  “I’ve actually been here before,” Lee said. “And it is great.”

  “So, are you vacationing in Miami for a while now?”

  “Taking a room anywhere?” Roger asked. “I can recommend some great places.”

  “Daddy, they could stay with us,” Amanda said.

  All three men in her group stared at her hard. Lee quickly said, “Thanks, but we’re going to stay out on the boat. It’s easy to get in and out.”