Moving With The Sun

by Nicki Huntsman Smith

  “They’re going to try. They have to find a boat that’s large enough to carry all of us and that they can operate. I know they’re talented people, but I’m not sure captaining watercraft in a storm is among any of their skill sets.”

  “Are we in big trouble?”

  “Oh, yes. Me more than you. I’m the grown-up. I should have known better.”

  Harold’s smile was back. He didn’t seem to mind being in trouble as long as he could be with Ingrid.

  “What if they don’t let you back in?”

  “To Cthor-Vangt? I think that’s a distinct possibility. I suppose it wouldn’t be as awful as it might have been before.”

  “Because of Ingrid?”

  His grin widened. She had never seen him so happy, which was saying a lot because Harold was a happy guy already.

  A knock at the front door startled them both. Harold reached for the revolver he had laid on a marble-top table in the foyer. He opened the cylinder part that held the bullets, saw that there was one in every hole, then unlocked the door.

  A drenched Kenny was standing on the porch, grinning like a maniac.

  “You gonna let me in, homey? I’m as wet as a beaver’s pocket.”

  “How did you get here?” Jessie was pleased to see the teenager whom she had liked since their first meeting at the golf course. He was very intelligent and perhaps as special as she was herself, but in different ways.

  “I jacked a sailboat.”

  “You sailed here? In this weather? Incredible.”

  Kenny snorted, then mimicked Harold’s British accent when he replied, “I did indeed, old chap. I know a thing or two about yachting from my days at Oxford.”

  Jessie giggled. The boy sounded just like Harold.

  “Clearly Oxford is not where you learned about sailing – we have specialized schools for that – but I am impressed, nevertheless.”

  “My friend Tyler taught me. He knew everything about boats and fishing. I miss him. He’s out on the Atlantic somewhere with a smoking hot, crazy bi...uh, crazy woman. Maybe he’ll come back someday if that chick doesn’t kill him.”

  “Are you here to rescue us?”

  “Oh, hell no. I barely made it here alive. I ain’t going back out on that water.”

  “Then why risk it just to get yourself trapped here?” Harold asked.

  “I’m finishing what the two of you started. If all this insanity is true, those big kahunas who live underground won’t want me to die. I’m the smartest person on the planet. That Asian guy was blown away by my test results. He has an excellent poker face, but I’m an excellent poker player. That’s how I put myself through law school. Okay, that last part was a lie, but the other parts are true.”

  “You’re hoping the Cthor will divert the hurricane to save you instead of Jessie?”

  “That’s what I’m banking on since they don’t have my DNA yet. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Oh dear. I can only imagine how distraught Tung will be. Does he know you’re here?”

  “Nope, but you’re about to tell him with that Vulcan mind meld thing you guys do. Better hurry up, Prince Charles. The wind is blowing like a hooker on her period.”

  Jessie didn’t know what that meant, but Kenny was right. The storm was getting worse by the minute. She was shivering again and wondered what was taking Ingrid so long bringing the dry clothes.

  Chapter 48 – Ingrid

  “I wish I had more time to enjoy this moment, but with your new friends downstairs, I’m forced to exhibit restraint.”

  Charlotte had lost all trace of her southern accent. The voice whispering into Ingrid’s ear was cultivated and elegant.

  “So you’re the killer. I should have seen it.”

  “How could you have seen it? My performance as a backwoods hick was perfection. I had plenty of examples to study growing up.”

  “Did you knock those missing teeth out just to complete the façade?” Ingrid said, then drew in a sharp breath as Charlotte’s knife pressed more forcefully against her carotid artery.

  “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “You killed Hector.”

  “I did. The opportunity presented itself, which I interpreted as a divine message. The services of the Angel of Death were called upon.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Perhaps. I have fun, though.”

  “So you plan to murder me?”

  “I’m afraid so. Wait a minute. That part was a lie. I’m not afraid of killing you at all. I’m quite relishing the notion.”

  The longer she stalled, the better the chance that Harold would come up those stairs with her revolver.

  She hoped his hands didn’t shake like hers.

  “What have I ever done to you? For that matter, what did Rosemary ever do to you?”

  “Oh, you found her, did you? By the way, I know what you’re doing. You’re stalling for time. I’ll indulge you by supplying the short version of my motivations. You’re a snooty rich bitch and Rosemary was an uppity nigger.” During the last sentence, Charlotte had regressed back to her Kentucky accent. Ingrid didn’t know if that was intentional or not.

  “Those are terrible reasons for taking a life. I don’t blame you for poisoning Howard, though. The man was insufferable.”

  A ghoulish snicker wheezed out of the gape-toothed mouth.

  “Indeed. He was special, though. He was my first human kill. In a way, I owe him my gratitude. He helped make me what I am today.”

  “A murderess? That’s nothing to be grateful for.”

  “On the contrary. I’m thankful for his help in my metamorphosis.”

  “Hmmph. If you say so.”

  She felt the outer layer of skin give way to the knife’s edge. Harold wasn’t going to arrive in time.

  “I think we’ve drawn this out long enough.”

  Ingrid closed her eyes, so didn’t see from which direction the bullet came that knocked Charlotte backward onto the four-poster bed. By the time she opened her eyes, there was blood all over her pristine white duvet. A perfect hole had appeared in the killer’s forehead.

  “Crazy broad,” Lucas said from the balcony doorway.

  “You’re getting water all over my bedroom floor,” Ingrid said. Then her knees buckled.

  ***

  “After you told me about Rose, I went to Charlotte’s house and found the cat tooth. I had intended to go there anyway, after you mentioned your gumbo dream. That should make you feel better, Ingrid.” Lucas looked diminished, somehow. He still exuded the authority of a former New Orleans homicide detective, but his fire was gone. Ingrid wondered if it would ever return.

  He continued, “I also found a Zip-lock bag with some hair in it. I’m sure it was Howard’s. Serial killers like to keep trophies. Then I went to the Love Shack.” The handsome face was a mask of anguish. He swallowed hard. “I found a kayak hidden nearby filled with food and water. I assume that was how she planned to escape after she cut loose the other boats. Then my gut instinct told me to come here. I heard her voice through the balcony window.”

  They were downstairs in Ingrid’s living room now with Harold, Jessie, and Kenny, whom Ingrid was delighted to see. He hadn’t been coming around as much since Tyler had mysteriously sailed away with Zoey.

  Too many unexplained events had been happening lately. It vexed her, but at that moment, as the hurricane bore down on them, she experienced two minor epiphanies: she should not always strive to control everything in her world, and she did not need to know everyone’s secrets. Some things were best left as mysteries.

  “So we have one kayak to transport more than fifty people off the island,” Ingrid said.

  Lucas rolled his eyes. “Nobody is going anywhere. It’s too dangerous. I think the best thing is to hunker down and wait out the storm.”

  “You’ve never believed there was anything to my dreams.”

  “I just told you about the gumbo thing, Ingrid. I’m not saying I don’t believe any of it
, but I don’t believe all of it. Sorry.”

  She bit her tongue. The man had just saved her life.

  “Will you excuse me a moment?” Harold said suddenly.

  She nodded and watched him walk down the marbled hallway to the powder room.

  She sighed. How tragic that she and her dream man may only share a few hours together before being washed into the sea.

  “We should gather everyone here,” she said. Now that Rosemary was gone, she supposed it was acceptable for Lucas to take charge. That made more sense than a snooty old rich bitch calling the shots. “My house was built to withstand the very worst storms. It won’t save us from flooding, but it will hold up against flying debris.”

  “I’ll get the word out if the weather gets worse,” Lucas said, standing. “I need to go take care of a few things. She’s still there...at the Love Shack. Can you handle getting the body out of your bedroom?”

  “Yes, of course. Do you need help with...?”

  Lucas shook his head, then was gone the next moment.

  “That dude ain’t so bad,” Kenny said. He perched on a bar stool in a corner of the room. His position on the tall seat and the amused, keenly interested expression on his face, made Ingrid think of a friendly gargoyle.

  “I agree.” She noticed Jessie sitting on the sofa, her owl eyes traveling back and forth as she listened to the conversation. The child couldn’t be more than ten years old. Ingrid wondered about the horrors she must have endured during the past two years.

  “Jessie, I know for a fact that Kenny loves chocolate, and something tells me a certain little girl does too. Do you like to read? My grand-nieces left some books about horses.”

  At the mention of the books, the child’s face transformed into something that took Ingrid’s breath away.

  Chapter 49 – Amelia

  ~~~

  Harold: You’re going to hate me more than you already do.

  Tung: Just tell me, Harold. What now?”

  Harold: Kenny is here on the island. He found a sailboat and managed to get himself across the river in this raging storm. I know you realize how smart he is, but he is much more.

  Tung: This day just gets better and better. We haven’t located a suitable vessel yet for a rescue. I have no idea where Kenny found one.

  Harold: As I said, the boy is exceptional. Perhaps to the same degree as Jessie. And the Cthor do not have his DNA.

  Tung: Ahhh, more extortion. Amelia has subverted you as well, I see.

  Amelia: Not directly.

  Harold: You tested him, Tung. His intellect is just the tip of the iceberg. I can guarantee his...value. They won’t want to lose him.

  Tung: You people will be the death of me. Or at least, the expulsion of me. I like the notion of living for millennia even if you don’t.

  Amelia: Tung, please...

  ~~~

  The connection was severed. Tung scowled at her now as they stood under a covered porch attached to a palatial house on the bank of the Intracoastal Waterway. Fergus stood next to her, not offering any verbal assistance. His proximity was all she wanted.

  Amelia didn’t need anyone to fight her battles for her.

  “Give me some privacy, please,” Tung said.

  She ushered Fergus over to some patio furniture next to a wall of windows, not the best place to be in a hurricane. Tung better hurry.

  “What do you think will happen?” Fergus said, gazing out at the pouring rain and turbulent river.

  “I don’t know. I regret just about everything except the decision to liberate my beloved from a metal box, even though he apparently didn’t need my help. The stench in there must have been something.” She sniffed.

  “Sorry about that. I’ve had no opportunity to bathe yet.”

  Sometimes the tide of emotion she felt for this man threatened to pull her under, extinguishing the spark that was hers alone. Ferocity in all things – but particularly in matters of the heart – could topple mountains as handily as it could scale them. That unbridled dedication to getting what she wanted, despite the danger in which she placed herself and others, was what had gotten her ejected from Cthor-Vangt. It was also what made her who she was. She was too old to change now, but perhaps some modifications were in order.

  Or perhaps not.

  “If they won’t do it, Jessie may perish. Are you prepared for that?”

  “No. I would lament it for the rest of my life. Oh, Fergus. I’m so worried.”

  “I know you are, love.”

  Minutes passed, each one slipping into a parallel dimension and stretching to a hundred times the length of those in her world.

  Tung’s communication with the Cthor was taking forever.

  Finally, he walked back toward her and Fergus, exuding exhaustion from every inch of his face and body. There were new frown lines between his brows, and the almond-shaped eyes no longer looked upon her with affection.

  “They are profoundly disappointed in us all, but as long as I deliver Kenny to them, I still have a place in Cthor-Vangt. Amelia, you are never to ask for my help again. Fergus, you are on probation. The Cthor will mitigate the hurricane so that Kenny, Jessie, and Harold will be safe. I am to gather them up and convey them to the Cthor right away.”

  Amelia rushed to him and kissed him on the mouth.

  “I’m still angry with you.”

  “I know. And I promise I will never ask for your help with anything ever again.”

  “Good. That way I won’t have to say no.” He didn’t smile. “They want you to leave immediately,” he said to Fergus. “On your way back to Cthor-Vangt, you are to stop at the settlement in Tennessee and evaluate its members. That was supposed to be my job until I allowed all this nonsense to derail me.”

  He turned his back on them and walked away.

  Fergus frowned as he gathered Amelia’s face in his hands and gazed into her eyes.

  “It seems our tête-à-tête has come to an end. For now. Go back to your island, my love, and bask in heaven on earth until I can return to you.”

  Amelia blinked away her tears. She had been expecting this moment for weeks now. She was grateful that he had stayed as long as he had, and she would relive every moment they had shared until he returned. If he returned.

  In the meantime, she had plans for the Colony...her home. Like the unrelenting surge of sea water in a tempest, the joy of contemplating all she would accomplish there began filling the sad recesses of her heart. Amelia would find happiness no matter where she lived or with whom she spent what remained of her life. There was no other way to live.

  But it didn’t hurt if she could spend those years in paradise.

  Chapter 50 – Ingrid

  “I don’t understand any of this. How can you ask me to just accept that Kenny and Jessie are leaving with this stranger?”

  Ingrid was furious. She had become attached to the little girl in a very short time, and she had always adored the brilliant teenager and his caustic wit.

  She scowled at the Asian man standing in her open doorway, framed by a cloudless, cerulean backdrop. If she were honest with herself, that flawless blue sky also made her angry, as convoluted as that was. How could her prophetic dream prove so inaccurate? Lucas would never let her live it down. She supposed she should be grateful that she was still around to be ridiculed. She was also elated to have a few years – maybe even a decade or two, if her seventy-year-old body held out – with her dream man.

  “Darling, you will just have to trust me on this,” Harold said. “There are mysteries in life that we are not meant to understand.” He gave her that irresistible grin.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to come with us, Harold?”

  “He said he’s staying here,” Ingrid snapped.

  She watched the almond-shaped eyes crinkle at the corners. Was this impertinent newcomer amused?

  “I’m quite sure, Tung. Thank you. Perhaps we shall meet again someday.”

  “Perhaps. It has been a pleasure.
You will be missed. Kenny, Jessie, it’s time.”

  Kenny pecked her cheek as he darted out the front door. Jessie approached wearing the pink backpack Ingrid had given her. It was stuffed with horse books. The child wouldn’t let them out of her sight.

  “Thank you, Ingrid. I hope you and Harold are very happy together.”

  For years to come, Ingrid would picture that face – those huge sea-green eyes and the stunning smile – and wonder about the woman the little girl had grown into.

  When the door closed, the sudden quiet might have felt lonely and oppressive if not for the man standing beside her.

  “I have so many questions,” she began, then forgot what they were the next moment when he kissed her for the first time.

  Ingrid was no prude. Despite never having married, she had enjoyed a healthy sex life with a variety of attractive and charming men for years before her romance with Hector. Those men, and the kisses she shared with them, were a sputtering match compared to the raging bonfire kiss of her dream man.

  There would be many more kisses to follow, and more happiness in those remaining years than she had experienced throughout her entire lifetime.

  Chapter 51 – Tyler

  “That must be La Palma. Do you see it?” Zoey shielded her eyes from the intense glare of the sun reflecting off the ocean.

  The water this far from land was the cobalt blue of a Mexican margarita glass. The thought evoked a squirt of saliva in his mouth; a frozen marg would hit the spot after weeks of being at sea. Not that Tyler had minded the journey to the Canary Islands. He loved to sail, and after riding out a nasty squall off the Florida coast, the weather had been perfect.

  The best part was how quickly Zoey had adjusted to her predicament. Like a nuisance bear in an Alaskan suburb, she had been tranquilized and was now being relocated to a place where she couldn’t do harm to others.

  Zoey was more dangerous than any grizzly, though. Tyler would never forget that.

  “It’s spectacular. I didn’t know there would be mountains.”