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by Katherine Applegate; Michael Grant


  “You talked to him?”

  “Just now. Look, I don’t know how much longer he’ll be here, so you need to hurry.”

  Summer fell silent again. “I don’t have any way to get over to Crab Claw,” she said at last. “I’ll call Marquez. Maybe she—”

  “No,” Diana interrupted. “You can’t tell Marquez.”

  “Can’t tell her?” Summer’s voice rose in indignation. “What gives you the right—”

  “I promised Diver, Summer. I told him I wouldn’t tell Marquez, and he trusts me.”

  “That was his first mistake,” Summer said bitterly.

  “Listen, I had real doubts about calling you, but my gut tells me maybe you can get through to Diver.” Diana drew in a deep breath. “I’ll pick you up. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Summer hesitated. “Okay, then.” She gave Diana directions. “I’ll be ready. Diana?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s your brother, Summer. You’ll have to decide that for yourself.”

  When Diana pulled into the wide drive, Summer was already waiting. A woman dressed in white was with her and a guy in a wheelchair. At least, Diana assumed it was a guy. It was hard to tell, with all the bandages.

  Diana parked next to a large van. The side door was open, revealing a wheelchair lift.

  Summer met her eyes warily. She had on a T-shirt and a pair of cutoffs, no makeup. Her hair was damp and a little tangled. Still, she looked beautiful. She was clearly Diver’s sister.

  And Seth’s love.

  “All set?” Diana asked. Her voice was off, shaking just slightly.

  “Diana, this is Jared and his nurse, Juanita.”

  Diana nodded. “Nice to meet you. Summer, we need to hurry.”

  To Diana’s surprise, Jared moved his wheelchair close to her window. He fixed his dark, intense gaze at her. “Hi, Diana,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Hi,” she said, feeling strangely uneasy.

  “We should get going too,” the nurse said. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Jared has a doctor’s appointment at nine.”

  “I’ll probably be back before you, Jared,” Summer said as she climbed into Diana’s car.

  “See you,” Jared said softly. Even as she pulled out of the driveway, Diana couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her.

  “Poor guy,” she said. “How was he hurt?”

  “Car accident.” Summer sat beside her rigidly, one hand gripping the door handle as if she might bolt at any moment. “He was in Germany when it happened. He went over an embankment, like a two-hundred-foot drop. He nearly died.”

  “Where’s his family?”

  “In New England. They never visit. They just, you know, pay the bills.”

  The conversation ground to a halt. Diana drove faster than was strictly necessary. The warm wind ripped through the windows. She wondered whose job it was to break the awful silence.

  They were almost to Mallory’s before Diana finally spoke again. “I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing.”

  “It must be hard to know, what with not having a conscience.”

  Diana let it go. “The thing is, I think Diver needs to tell someone what’s going on, and you’re probably the only one he’ll talk to. He feels so bad about himself. About hurting Marquez and you. But something’s really tearing him up.”

  “He didn’t say why he ran off?”

  “No. He didn’t say much of anything.” Diana turned down her mother’s street. “Except that he didn’t have any excuse for what he’d done. And that he’d lost you and Marquez for good.”

  Diana paused. She felt the words working their way to the surface. She could almost taste them, bitter and unwelcome as tears.

  “That’s…” She pulled into the driveway. “That’s sort of how I feel.”

  Summer opened the door. Her face was blank. There was nothing there—no forgiveness, not even any anger.

  “Thank you for calling me about Diver,” she said. She closed the door.

  Diana watched her run across the green, still-dewy lawn. She put the car in reverse, then hesitated. After a moment she turned off the car and went inside the house to wait, although she wasn’t quite sure for what.

  16

  Did He or Didn’t He? Only His Sister Knows for Sure….

  The front door of the stilt house was ajar. The smell of mildew and ocean and mothballs made Summer instantly nostalgic. This had been her first home away from home. While living here, she’d met Marquez and Seth and Adam.

  And Diver.

  Diver, who by some amazing convergence of fate and circumstance and the alignment of the planets and the Quick Pick lottery numbers, had turned out to be her brother.

  He was in the bathroom, splashing water on his face. When he saw her reflection in the mirror, he seemed more resigned than surprised.

  “Diana works fast,” he said. “I knew I shouldn’t have come back here. I don’t know why I did.”

  “I do,” Summer said. “It’s home.”

  “You shouldn’t have bothered coming. I was just about to leave.”

  Summer followed Diver onto the porch. Frank flapped over to join them as they sat on the sun-warmed planks.

  “Where are you going?” Summer asked.

  “North somewhere.”

  “That would be ironic, since you ran screaming from Minnesota like a bat out of hell.”

  “Not that far north.”

  Summer leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes to the sun’s heat. “So what is it you’re running from this time, Diver? Or should I say who? Last time it was Mom and Dad and me. So who is it this time? Marquez?”

  “I love Marquez,” he whispered.

  “Well, you sure have an interesting way of showing it. How could you do this to her when she’s so fragile?” She opened her eyes. Her brother sat beside her, head bent low, his long golden hair half obscuring his face. “How could you?” she demanded in a voice choked by rage.

  Diver’s shoulders jerked convulsively. His soft sobs were almost drowned by the steady rush and retreat of the waves.

  Summer stared at him without pity. He was an illusion, not a real flesh-and-blood human being. Like a movie star, she realized. A blank, beautiful slate, an image without substance. He came into people’s lives and let them believe and then, when they needed him most, he vanished. He’d done it to Summer, to her parents, to Marquez.

  “She believed in you, Diver,” Summer said.

  Long minutes passed before Diver raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot. His face was damp with tears.

  “I’m going to tell you something,” he said. “Because I want you to explain it to Marquez. So she understands. So she knows I love her. I did something, something really bad, a long time ago. Back when I was with my other dad, the one who kidnapped me. I was just a kid. I mean, it was a long time ago, okay?”

  Summer nodded. “Okay.”

  “And this…this bad thing finally caught up with me. So I had to leave.”

  “And that’s it? That’s supposed to make Marquez feel better?”

  “I know,” Diver said hopelessly. He went to the railing and gazed down at the water. “Forget it. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “I have a brilliant idea. How about fighting back? How about confronting whatever this thing is? How about trusting that Marquez and I would stick by you?”

  Diver looked at her doubtfully. “Would you? I wonder.”

  “Maybe if you told me what it was, maybe then—”

  “I killed someone, Summer.”

  The waves kept coming, the sun kept shining, the breeze kept teasing the palms. But Summer was pretty sure that the world as she’d known it was suddenly forever changed.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me,” Diver said sharply. “I killed—”

  “I heard you.”

  “Do you still want to tell Marquez? Are you still planning on holding my hand, sticking
by me? You’d look nice in court, the loyal sister.”

  Summer stood. She held on to the wooden railing. It was warm from the sun, smooth and shiny from years of exposure to the wild storms that spun out of the ocean. That’s how it was, here in the Keys. One hour it would be calm, a little too calm, and then suddenly the sky would open up and you’d wonder how the world could survive such a beating.

  She turned to face him. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe it. It’s true. I even have a witness.”

  Summer crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t. I’ve already told you too much.”

  “You’re leaving, anyway. What do you care? It’s not like I’m going to turn you in, Diver.”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t tell me the details, I won’t have any way to make it okay with Marquez. If you do…well, I don’t have to tell her everything, but I’ll be able to sell your story. You know, to make her feel like it’s not her fault you left.”

  Diver pursed his lips. His brow was creased, his blue eyes so dark, they could have been black. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Who’s going to hear us? Frank?”

  Diver managed a grim smile. “He’s never been able to keep a secret. Besides, he’s always thought highly of me. I’d hate to disillusion him.”

  “Why not Frank? You’ve done it to everyone else.”

  They went back inside. Diver shut the door, and they sat at the wobbly Formica table.

  “So?” Summer prompted.

  Diver sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll tell you the whole story. But you can’t tell the details to Marquez. I don’t want her thinking about me this way. Just…just tell her I got into some trouble. Deal?”

  “All right.”

  “There was a fire,” Diver said softly, almost as if he were reciting a story he knew by heart. “My mom had died of cancer, and it was just my dad and me then. He wasn’t such a great dad.”

  “Well, duh, Diver. He kidnapped you, for starters,” Summer said, almost exasperated. “Sometimes you act as if your growing up was normal.”

  “It was, to me. I didn’t know anything else, Summer. And it wasn’t all bad.” He shrugged. “So, anyway, he beat me up sometimes. Well, a lot, actually. And one night I just got so sick of it that I burned down the house and he died and then I ran away.” He said it casually, as if he were reciting what he’d had for dinner last night. “I was on the streets for a long time. Living here and there, and then I found this place”—he waved his arm—“which was like a palace to me. And then you came. Which was like…like waking up from a nightmare, in a way.”

  Summer fingered a plastic place mat on the table. “Are you sure he died?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I saw the papers. They were after me for arson and murder.”

  “But assuming you did it—”

  “I did do it.”

  “Assuming you did it,” Summer persisted, “you were just a kid, Diver. It was self-defense.”

  “It was premeditated,” Diver said calmly. “I wanted him dead.”

  Summer got a glass out of the cupboard. The water in the faucet was warm and tinny tasting. She drank slowly, considering. “So how did you burn down the house, exactly?”

  “I don’t remember. It was a long time ago. Mostly I just remember it in dreams. I think I blacked out at some point. I remember coming to on the lawn. It was dark, the grass was wet. The fire engines were coming. I could hear my dad…screaming.”

  “But you don’t know how you started the fire.”

  Diver was staring at his hands, as if they held the answer. “No. But Caroline said they found—” He stopped cold.

  “I had a feeling she was involved in this somehow.”

  “She was my next-door neighbor. She recognized me right away, that night Marquez was in the hospital and I ran into her. I denied it, but there was no point. She knew. She knew all the details. She said they found flammable liquid at the site. She knew the cops were after me. She knew everything.”

  “And?”

  Diver sighed. “There was some insurance money, I guess. She said if I went back and claimed it, she’d make up this story about how she saw me try to save my dad. How she’d been just a kid, too freaked out by the whole thing to tell the police at the time.”

  “Let me guess. In return Caroline gets a piece of the insurance money?”

  “Something like that.” Diver gave a harsh laugh. “She really believes people would buy her story about how I was a big hero, not a murderer. How I’d tried to save my dad, even though he beat the crap out of me almost every day of my life.”

  Summer put her glass in the sink. She didn’t need this to be happening. Her life was plenty complicated already. She didn’t need Diver’s problems.

  Truth was, she wasn’t even sure she needed Diver. He’d disappointed her so many times. She didn’t owe him.

  She turned. Diver was looking out the window at Frank, smiling wistfully at the ugly pelican. Sometimes when he smiled that way, she could imagine Diver as a child, desperate and alone and yet still, against all logic, hopeful. Hoping that his life really was normal. That his parents really did love him.

  She joined him at the window.

  “I want you to promise me something, Diver. And I want you to mean it. This can’t be like all your other promises. This can’t just be something you say to make me go away.”

  Diver looked at her, waiting. Hoping.

  “I want you to promise me that you’ll stay put for two more days. Right here. No questions. I’ll be sure you have some food. You just need to lie low and give me a chance to figure things out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out, Summer. It’s like I told Diana—it’s hopeless.”

  “Do you promise or not?” she demanded. “Yes or no?”

  Diver gave a small nod. “I promise. Just don’t…get yourself in any trouble because of me, okay? You don’t owe me anything.”

  “You read my mind.”

  He stared back out the window. “It’s funny. I have those dreams again and again, but I never let myself see the worst part. I see myself leaving my dad. I see him burning alive, for God’s sake. But I never let myself see the”—he cleared his throat—“the…you know. The lighting of the match. I can’t bear to know that’s inside me, I guess. I wonder why that is?”

  Summer went to the door. When she opened it, the clean, white light was blinding. “I’ll tell you why,” she said softly. “It’s because you didn’t do it, Diver.”

  17

  The Plot Thickens…

  “That was quick,” Diana said as she opened the door. “I take it that it didn’t go well with Diver?”

  Summer almost smiled. Not unless having your brother confess to murder was good news.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said, stepping into the wide marble foyer.

  Diana led her into the white-on-white living room, with its leather furniture and thick fake polar bear rugs. A spray of lilies graced the grand piano in the corner. Even when she was away, Summer’s aunt insisted on having fresh flowers in the house.

  Summer sat on the edge of a white leather podlike thing that only vaguely resembled a chair. Diana leaned against the piano, her hands on her hips. Her dark beauty was even more pronounced in the wintry living room. It was impossible to look at her without imagining Seth in her arms. Summer could almost understand it. Diana was exotic and difficult and elusive. She must have seemed like the ultimate challenge.

  “Diver’s in serious trouble, isn’t he?” Diana asked.

  Summer cleared her throat. She didn’t trust Diana for a moment. Still, it wasn’t like she had any choice in the matter. Diver was hiding out here, and Diana knew about it. And for what it was worth, Diana was the one who had called her about Diver.

  “Diver needs to stay in the stilt house for a couple of days, maybe longer,” Summer said carefully.


  “He can stay as long as he wants.”

  “I’ll need to bring him some food and blankets—”

  “Done, This…trouble he’s in. What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Try to find a way to set things right.” Summer forced herself to meet Diana’s eyes. “Diana, no one can know about this. Not even Marquez. No one.”

  “Diver’s been a good friend. You can trust me.” Diana gave a short laugh. “I know what you’re thinking. Let me revise that. On this, at least, you can trust me.”

  “I don’t have any choice, I guess.”

  “This is different. With Seth…” Diana shrugged. “I guess when I’m in love, I’m capable of doing just about anything to get what I want.”

  “Including lying about Austin and me? Setting me up and using my own engagement ring to do it? Flying all the way to California just to be with Seth and destroy what was left of our relationship?”

  “Fine. Yes. I’m a witch, okay? But I was right about you and Austin. At least I’m a perceptive witch.”

  “Maybe they can put that on your tombstone. Loving daughter, caring friend, perceptive witch.” Summer stood. “Look, I don’t want to talk about Seth.”

  “What you don’t want,” Diana said, “is to believe that Seth might have felt something for me and I might have felt something for Seth. What you don’t want, Summer, is to have to believe that you and I are alike.”

  “Alike! Please.” Summer started for the door, but Diana moved to block her path.

  “You wanted Austin enough to risk everything, even Seth,” Diana said. “And I wanted Seth enough to risk everything. Even”—her voice cracked—“even my own cousin.”

  “I have to go, Diana.”

  “I guess it’s too much to ever expect you’ll forgive me,” Diana pressed on. “But you expected Seth to forgive you for all your little indiscretions with Austin.”

  “I ended it with Austin—” Summer began, but Diana’s dubious look gave her pause. She took a deep breath. “I have to go, Diana. There’s no point in discussing this. If you want to talk about your—your relationship—with Seth, why don’t you give him a call?”

 

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