“Not for even a second.”
“Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts after the incident?”
“If I knew the chick’s name and number, I’d give it to you. Her first name was Bambi. Can’t be too many of them on the list.”
Marc ran his gaze over the manifest. “Try again. There was no Bambi aboard.”
“Maybe it was a fake name. Look, I have to go. If you have anything else to say, you can talk to my attorney.”
Marc heaved a sigh. How did he go about finding this Bambi? He’d bet a hundred bucks this guy wasn’t as innocent as he claimed.
SEVENTEEN
The seat cushion was hard under her thighs, a comforting sensation that proved she was Elin, not Laura. She was here aboard the boat with Sara and Marc. The vision or whatever it was when she’d smelled the cologne and had a surge of Laura’s memories wasn’t real. This was real. Sitting here under the stars with the boat rocking in the waves.
Marc ended his phone call. “The guy is hiding something.”
“Like what?” Sara asked.
Marc’s gaze went to Elin, and she felt the intensity of it. He must have disliked that Theo because his hazel eyes were blazing. “The name Bambi mean anything to you?”
She started to shake her head, then stopped. An image of a woman floated in her memory. “I–I don’t know. Maybe. Theo was kissing a woman with big blond hair. Obviously dyed and the ends were tipped with hot pink. I think that might be her name.”
Sara lifted a brow. “Fake name?”
He shrugged. “Got to be.”
“I think her real name was Barbara. She was older than Theo. Maybe forty.” Where were all these details coming from? Elin couldn’t consciously recall them. What if they were made up by her desire to get answers? But no, she could swear she’d actually seen the woman.
Marc leaned over his computer and perused the list again. “Seven Barbaras. I’ll get some records pulled so we can check the birth dates. Maybe we can find the right one. She might have seen Theo go off to confront Laura.”
Had there been a confrontation? Elin couldn’t remember, but it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t remember ever speaking with this Bambi either. Maybe it was all a dead end.
Sara put her arm around her. “I think we’d better get her home. She still looks like she might keel over any minute.”
“Yeah.” Marc swiveled back around and started the engine. The boat putted slowly toward the boathouse in the harbor.
“I need some air.” Elin rose and went toward the door to the deck. When Sara started to follow her, Elin shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I want a minute by myself. Maybe something else will come to me.”
Sara sank back onto the cushions, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. Marc glanced at Elin with a lifted brow but then nodded. She escaped into the damp night air. The waves lapped against the bow of the boat, and the stars twinkled down as if it were any other night. And maybe it was. Most people would look up into the sky and revel in the gorgeous sight. But this night was just like the one when Laura gasped her last, and Elin felt the young woman’s presence keenly in this moment.
Was she here, inside her? Or just her memories? Elin didn’t even know if Laura had been a Christian, though she hoped so. It might be comforting to know for sure of her final destination. One thing she knew for sure—what she felt wasn’t a spirit. Wherever Laura had gone, the journey was a permanent one, just like the Bible said.
The chugging of the engine lulled her thoughts for a few minutes. The shore drew nearer, and she could make out the outline of the house in the moonlight.
A shadow flitted by the front porch, and she put her hand to her throat and leaned in closer to see. Someone was out there. Abby? Maybe her mother had slipped outside without being seen? But something about the figure seemed to be male, and Elin remembered the other night when she thought she’d seen someone walking along the beach.
Her throat tightened, and she wanted to call out a warning as the man paused in front of the large front window. The light filtering through the curtains revealed his shape a bit better, and something in the slant of his neck terrified her.
It’s him!
She pressed down the fear as illogical, but her terror only escalated. What if he was watching Abby and Josie, trying to decide how to break in and harm them? She whirled and ran for the wheelhouse to tell Marc to hurry. As she reached the door, she looked behind for one last glimpse. No one was there. Only a tree moving in the stiff wind.
Had that been all she’d seen? Or was there more?
Every nerve was strung tight enough to twang. Marc strode the grounds looking for a possible intruder, even though Elin hadn’t been certain of what she’d seen. The night breeze blew the scent of the sea into his nostrils, and the recent rain left the ground mushy under his Nike flip-flops.
He swept the beam of his flashlight over the flower bed by the front window. It revealed no one lurking in the shadows, just the small tree with its branches moving in the wind. His high alert status began to ebb a bit. Maybe no one had been here.
“See anything?” Elin exited the front door and came down the steps to join him by the plantings. She wore a white robe over green pajamas and was barefoot.
He gestured. “It might have been that tree.”
“Oh, I pray so!”
The delicate scent of her perfume teased his nose, and he shifted to take in the sweetness a bit better. Though the vastness of the landscape surrounded them, it felt very intimate to be out here alone with her with the stars overhead and the sound of the surf in the background.
“Everyone else in bed?” He trained his flashlight on the ground again before moving on to the end of the house.
She followed closely. “I put Josie in my bed. I just couldn’t face the thought of having her alone in a room in case someone is out here.”
“And your mom and Abby?” As long as she continued to follow him around, he could ask questions all night. What did that say about his level of attraction?
Elin grabbed his arm. “Marc, look at that.”
He saw where she was pointing. Footprints. He focused the beam of light on the outline. “Looks like a man’s sandal. Size twelve or thirteen. Big guy. And it’s fresh.” He knelt beside it. “Look here. No insect tracks through it, no collection of dew. The guy was past here in the last hour.”
“I did see someone then.”
He rose and stared down at her. “You sound relieved.”
“Not relieved, exactly, but at least I know I’m not crazy. I–I was beginning to wonder. So many things have been happening to me.”
He took her by the shoulders. “Elin, you are not crazy. I admit I had my doubts about cell memory, but you know details there’s no other way to know.”
The moonlight illuminated her face, and the relief there made his heart clench. She must have been worried about this more than he’d realized. He hadn’t stopped to think of the stress she was under. How would he feel if he was experiencing things that had happened to another man? It would be hard to live with.
Her gaze, lit with vulnerability, searched his. “Do I seem different to you, Marc?”
What would she say if he told her he found her immensely appealing? Being around her was messing with his peace of mind. He could conquer it, though, with a little willpower.
“Those are Laura’s memories, not yours. Things will settle down once we have that guy behind bars.” He forced himself to let go of her and sweep his flashlight over the ground again. “Looks like he went this way. Go on back inside and call the sheriff in Hope Beach. We probably ought to have him take a look out here since it’s clear someone was trespassing.”
“I think you should come back inside too. You don’t have backup, and the guy could get the jump on you.”
“I’ll just poke around a little, then come in. I’ll be careful.”
She nodded, then retreated to the front door. “I’ll be back out in a minute.”
&
nbsp; He watched her through the large window as she went to the portable phone and dialed. Her hair glimmered in the overhead light as she twirled a long curl of it around her finger and paced the floor while she spoke to the sheriff. Her translucent skin held a flush of color, and it sounded as though she had raised her voice.
If he didn’t move, she would come back out and find him gawking. He pointed his flashlight into the darkness and moved around the side of the house toward the back. His light illuminated the back deck and the fire pit in the yard. A small animal dashed across the grass and he flinched, then relaxed.
Then something pierced his arm, and sharp pain radiated up to his shoulder. He dropped to his knees—an arrow was in the fleshy part of his forearm. A warm trickle ran down his arm. He touched the sticky fluid. Blood. Someone had shot him with an arrow. His fingers closed around the arrow, but he didn’t pull it out. Might cause more bleeding.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he peered into the darkness near the edge of the tree line. The shadows made it too dark to see. Where was the guy? Adrenaline surged through him, and he breathed hard and fast through his mouth. He lifted his head, but there was no renewed attack.
An engine roared, and he staggered to his feet and looked toward the water. The lights of a small boat exited the small cove just down the beach, and the craft zoomed away.
The front door slammed, and Elin joined him a few seconds later.
“Did you hear the boat?” She inhaled sharply. “Marc, you’re hurt.”
“Yeah. The guy shot me with an arrow.” The pain had ramped up, and he felt a little dizzy. “I think I’d better sit down.”
She grabbed his arm and guided him to a chair on the deck near the porch light. She knelt and looked at his arm. “Sara, come quick!”
The back door banged, and his cousin came flying out of the house. Her eyes went to his arm. “Oh my gosh, is that an arrow?”
“Yeah,” he said through gritted teeth. “I think I’m blacking out.” That was all he knew as darkness rose to claim him.
When he came to, Elin was kneeling on one side of him and Sara on the other. Both women had wet cheeks. His gaze fastened on Elin, and he reached up to touch the tears on her face. “Don’t cry.” His voice sounded so weak, he closed his eyes a moment and tried to muster more strength.
“Don’t talk.” Sara put a blood pressure cuff on his arm. “I think you’re in shock.”
His vision swam and he tried to focus. Something white attached to the arrow fluttered in the breeze. “There’s a paper attached to the arrow.”
Elin leaned in close and studied the paper. “It’s a note.”
Her cologne wafted up his nose, and he struggled to speak. “A note? Can you read it?”
Her face was stricken when she raised her gaze to meet his. “It says, ‘She’s mine. And you’re a dead man.’ ”
EIGHTEEN
Sheriff Tom Bourne looked harried when Elin opened the door about ten that night. Her call had interrupted his investigation of a break-in at the school. “Thanks for coming out so quickly.”
“Attempted murder is more serious than a little graffiti on a school fence.” A big man, Tom’s dark brown hair showed a few strands of gray at the temples. “Where is the arrow?” He carried a duffel bag in one hand and a flashlight in the other.
“This way.” She led the sheriff to the living room, where Marc lay on the sofa.
Sara had managed to extricate the arrow and stop the bleeding. It had barely missed an artery. He would have some pain for a few days, but it could have been so much worse.
Marc’s head lolled toward them. “Glad you could join the party, Sheriff.” Pain strained his voice.
The sheriff walked a few feet and stared at the arrow on the coffee table in a plastic bag. “You use a latex glove to remove that?”
“I did,” Sara said.
“Tell me what happened.”
Elin shivered as she listened to Marc relay the events of the attack.
“There’s a note here.” Bourne peered closer. “‘She’s mine. And you’re a dead man.’” The sheriff shook his head. “Sounds like an irate boyfriend, Ms. Summerall. You have a messy breakup recently?”
She tensed. “Not at all. I’m a widow, and I haven’t dated in five years.” Was Marc remembering their one and only “date” when Josie was conceived?
Tom’s brow furrowed. “Any recent admirers ask you out maybe?”
She started to shake her head, then remembered Isaac. Biting her lip, she tried to decide if she should mention him. It seemed a shame to pull him into something so messy.
“There is?” Tom probed.
She sighed and nodded. “There’s a coworker who has asked me out a few times, but I’ve never dated him.” She told him Isaac’s name. “He’s harmless though. Really, this is connected to Laura, not me. I’m just getting the fallout from whoever was after her. Maybe he’s after me because he thinks part of Laura is in me, and he wants to eradicate everything about her.”
Bourne didn’t react for a moment, then he took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “Sounds right. So we should look into anyone Laura threw over. See if she had a disgruntled boyfriend.”
“There’s another wrinkle too.” Marc told the sheriff about Lacy’s death and how she was dressed.
Bourne’s frown deepened the more he listened. “It sounds like the guy is really fixated on you, Ms. Summerall. I’m not so sure this is about Laura. If he was focused on her, wouldn’t he have dressed Lacy up to resemble her, not you? I think we need to keep an open mind about it and look at all the different angles.”
He picked up the plastic bag containing the arrow and note. “I’ll send this to the state boys and have them go over it. It might take some time for them to check for fingerprints and DNA. One of the disadvantages of living on an island with little resources.”
“You might alert the police about this,” Marc said. “It’s probably tied in with their murder investigation of Lacy’s death.”
“I’d planned to do just that.” Tom’s tone implied his displeasure at being told how to do his job. He went down the steps into the yard with his bright flashlight. “I’ll make a cast of the footprints. Can you show me where they are?”
Elin took a step toward the kitchen door. “Of course.”
Marc held out a hand toward her. “You’re looking a little stressed, Elin. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months. That virus, a heart transplant, and then the constant worry of a killer after you. You should get to bed. Sara can show the sheriff the crime scene.”
His concern warmed her. “I’m no shrinking violet, Marc. If he’s watching me, I don’t want him to think he’s terrorizing me. I won’t let that happen.”
He struggled to sit up, his face contorted with the pain. “You don’t have to be a pit bull all the time. There’s no shame in getting some rest.”
She tilted up her chin. “I’ll rest later. Sara, watch him. I’ll show the sheriff around.”
She led the sheriff out the back door, although everything in her didn’t want to venture into the darkness. An owl hooted in the woods, and a few moments later something shrieked.
“An owl got something, I think,” Bourne said.
His impersonal tone made her shiver. Predator and prey, was that what the world was all about? Sometimes it seemed that way, but she was determined to get back to waking up every morning with anticipation for whatever blessing God might bring her way. She was tired of flinching at every shadow. In fact, she refused to let the stress affect her. If Marc had noticed, Josie probably had too.
Shouldn’t every day be lived with anticipation? That maniac might succeed in taking her life someday, but he had no right to steal her joy. She’d let him until now, but no more.
Her head high, she marched around the side of the house. Only when the sheriff left did she head for bed, a place she was reluctant to go. The nightmares would be sure to come tonight, so she reached for Georgina’s di
ary.
It just might keep the nightmares at bay. For a while.
AUGUST 21, 1907
Georgina ran her hands over her swollen stomach. This baby kicked so much that sometimes she didn’t get a wink of sleep. A smile curved her lips. But she didn’t mind. Another week or two and she would hold this little one in her arms. She fanned her face. The heat and humidity had grown unbearable in this past month, even though the servants opened every window.
She packed the last of Joshua’s trunk and turned to find him staring at her. “What’s wrong?”
He wore his captain’s uniform and looked the picture of the handsome officer who had swept her off her feet a year ago. He planned to make a trip to Hope Beach to check on his ship. It would sail in another three weeks. They’d both prayed their baby would arrive before he had to leave.
He took a step closer to her. “Someone was outside last night.”
Her gaze darted to the window, and she put her hand to her throat. “Someone was watching us?”
“Maybe. I was gone all evening.” His eyes narrowed. “Did you have a visitor?”
She stared back at him, refusing to show any sign of guilt. “Of course not. I would have told you.” She started to turn, but he caught at her arm and swung her around. “Let go of me. You’re hurting my arm.” She tore her arm from his grasp and rubbed it. “Your jealousy is ridiculous, Joshua.”
“Oh, so now I’m ridiculous?” He raised his hand as if to strike her.
She tipped her chin up and stared him down. “You would dare lift your hand to me, your pregnant wife? Do not think I will cower inside and hide any bruises. The day you strike me is the day I leave. My father will welcome me back at a moment’s notice.”
He lowered his hand. “You have no money to leave.”
She struggled to keep her tone level. “He would send me money as soon as I asked. I’m not your slave, Joshua.”
He sank to the edge of the bed. “It maddens me to think of you with another man.”
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