The Island of Dangerous Dreams

by Joan Lowery Nixon

“Whose room is this?” I asked. “Where’s Kurt?”

  Madelyn was the first to recover. She got to her feet and said, “Something has happened, Andrea.”

  “What?”

  Benita stepped forward, like a kid wanting to tell a secret first. “We found Kurt’s shoes and shirt on the dock. He told us earlier he was going to try to swim to the nearest inhabited island. So that’s what he’s done! We’re sure of it!”

  “He can’t do that!”

  “But he did.”

  I just stared at them for a moment as I tried to absorb the information. Then I remembered what they’d been doing. “I don’t understand why you’re searching his room,” I said.

  Madelyn said, “Be realistic, Andrea. You saw the artifact. It’s priceless. We can’t leave the island without it, so we must hunt until we find it.”

  “You searched my room, too, didn’t you?”

  Benita had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but Aldo said, “We are all under suspicion.”

  “Then why don’t we search your room?” I demanded.

  “We did,” Madelyn said.

  “What did you find?”

  “Nothing.”

  I remembered what Pete had told me about Kurt’s real identity. Had they discovered that yet? I glanced at the top of the chest and saw a set of car keys, a pocket comb, and a wrinkled handkerchief. “Where’s his wallet?” I asked.

  “We didn’t find a wallet,” Benita said. She looked indignant. “You don’t understand. We’re looking for the artifact only. We aren’t prying into people’s wallets, for goodness sakes!”

  “Just into cameras.”

  “What are you talking about?” Madelyn asked.

  “My film,” I grumbled. “Someone opened the back of my camera and exposed the whole roll. All the pictures Kurt and I took have been ruined.”

  “Kurt didn’t know how to use your camera. He said so,” Madelyn explained. “Maybe while he was trying to figure out how it worked he accidentally opened the back plate.”

  An accident again? How often would that excuse be used? I kept my thoughts to myself and didn’t answer.

  Aldo swept the room with his gaze. “We’re through in here,” he said. “I suppose the next step will be a thorough search of the downstairs rooms.”

  “Come with us, Andrea,” Madelyn said. “We need all the help we can get.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Hasn’t it occurred to any of you that if someone finds the artifact, he—or she—isn’t likely to let on? We could hunt all day, while the finder had it in his pocket.”

  It didn’t rattle them. “We’ve made a pact,” Benita said. “We’re going to share the proceeds from the artifact.”

  “But that topaz isn’t yours!” I said. “It wasn’t the judge’s property either.”

  Aldo looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. Whose property is it?”

  “It belongs to the country of Peru,” I said. “It was smuggled out, and that’s illegal.”

  He relaxed and even smiled.

  “Oh, good heavens,” Benita grumbled. “Is that all you’re talking about.” She walked into the hall, and the others followed.

  I took the opportunity to pick up Kurt’s pillow and examine it. No tear, no rip, no feathers falling through. He had lied to me, taking the chance that I wouldn’t call him on it. Why? I dropped the pillow back on the bed and tried to think, but nothing added up.

  “Are you coming, Andrea?” Madelyn called.

  I went with them. I’d go through the motions of hunting for the artifact. It would give me time to think, and here was certainly another question to wonder about. Was I the only one who was puzzled about Kurt’s missing wallet?

  I assumed those were his clothes left rumpled on the floor, and Madelyn had said he had left his shoes on the beach. His wristwatch was probably waterproof. Not seeing a wristwatch in the room didn’t bother me. But his wallet? A swimmer would never carry a wallet with him. What was Kurt up to? I didn’t understand this at all. I badly needed to talk this over with someone. Not Aunt Madelyn. Not anyone in this house. The only person on this island I could talk to would be Pete.

  Ellison served ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch. He’d made too many, so as the others left the dining room I wrapped up a couple of sandwiches in a paper napkin and managed to slip through the kitchen and out the back door without anybody noticing me.

  I didn’t go down to the beach. I’d be too visible. I followed the shoreline as I traveled through the woods, trying to find the spot at which we’d cut across to the other side of the island.

  I made a couple of wrong guesses before I found a path that looked familiar. Confident now, I followed it over a rise and emerged at the little cove. Pete was bent over the boat’s rudder.

  “Hi,” I said.

  He started so violently that he almost tumbled overboard. He managed to straighten and said, “I didn’t hear you coming.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Didn’t you? When we first meet you threaten me with a stick. Then you tell me about a couple of murders and a murderer loose on the island. And you don’t mean to scare me?”

  I laughed and held up my package. “I brought you something to eat.”

  “Great. Food is always welcome.”

  As we sat on deck and he demolished the sandwiches, I told him about Kurt.

  “That guy wouldn’t be self-sacrificing enough to try to swim for help. And he’s no dummy. He knows the odds. He’d never make it. If he didn’t sink from exhaustion, he’d probably get attacked by a shark.” Pete licked his fingers and shook his head. “Nice lunch. Thanks for thinking about me.”

  Before I could answer he leaned over and kissed me softly, warmly on the lips.

  I scrambled up quickly and walked a few steps away from him. I had liked his kiss, and that bothered me, because it made me feel disloyal to Rick. Go away, I wanted to yell at Pete. I’ve got enough problems to worry about!

  Pete just leaned back on his elbows, as though the kiss hadn’t happened, and said, “As I see it, the big question to answer is, who’s got the artifact?”

  “Why? I thought we were talking about Kurt.”

  “We can talk about anybody we want to, but we’ve got to get down to the most important issue. I think your aunt is right that the judge wasn’t murdered for the artifact. It would have been easy for someone to get it away from him without killing him. And that other guy who was murdered—if it was murder—I doubt if that would have been for the artifact either.”

  I gasped aloud as I remembered. “It was murder.”

  “I thought you said no one was sure.”

  “I know what I said, because I didn’t remember then, but I do now. I walked down the veranda with Benita, and we stood outside Norton’s—Mr. Granakee’s—room, and we heard his door to the hallway open and close.”

  “Maybe it was before he was murdered.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m sure of what happened. He must have been smothered. That’s when Benita heard what she thought was a cough. He must have fought back, because his fingernails tore the pillow casing. The murderer probably put the room back in order again—or even took time to search it before we got there. We heard him leaving the room.”

  “Whew!” Pete said. “I don’t like that. If you’re right, things aren’t going to get any better. They’re going to get worse.”

  “What do you mean?” I sat on the bench across from him and leaned forward intently. Wavelets rocked the boat in a rhythmic motion, and the sun was warm on my back, but I couldn’t relax.

  “Because time is running out. The boat will come back tomorrow afternoon. The artifact has to be found by then, and one of those people at the house is going to want it badly enough to do anything to get hold of it. Whoever knows where it’s hidden is probably in a lot more danger than that person suspects.”

  “That person is me,” I said in a small voice. I was as surprised at telling him my sec
ret as he was at hearing it.

  He opened his mouth a couple of times before anything came out. “Why?”

  “Because I have to return it to Peru,” I said, and proceeded to tell him what Dr. Sammy Kirschman had told us about how wrong it was to steal a country’s artifacts and how strongly I agreed with him.

  When I’d finished he rubbed his chin and said, “That thing could be worth an awful lot of money. I mean, what do you want? College? A Porsche? College and a Porsche?”

  “Don’t joke about it. All I want is to make sure it gets back where it belongs.”

  He studied me a minute, head tilted. “This is an interesting side to your character, which, so far during the years we have known each other, has never emerged. Andy Ryan, girl crusader.”

  I began to tense, wishing I hadn’t told him. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Oh, no, Andy.” Pete crossed to sit next to me and took my hands in his. “I kid around with people I like, that’s all. And I like you very much. I was trying to be funny. I didn’t mean anything else, honest.”

  I sighed with relief. I couldn’t help it.

  “And I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added. “I guess now we’re both scared. I don’t like to think about you being the one in the tight spot.”

  “I’ll be all right,” I said. “They don’t know I have the artifact.”

  “You shouldn’t have it on your person. It’s too dangerous. I tell you what, give it to me, and I’ll hide it here on the boat for you.”

  “I’m not wearing it,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I hope you really hid it good, because, from what you told me, they’re likely to take the house apart looking for it. It is at the house, isn’t it?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  “It matters to me,” he said. “Andy, we’re dealing with a murderer.” His voice became softer as he moved a little closer and added, “I want you to trust me.”

  Nervously, I squirmed back a couple of inches. I pulled my hands from his.

  Pete didn’t act as I expected him to. He folded his arms across his chest and said, “This is not a very good beginning for a friendship. Someday we’ll laugh about this, but right now we keep scaring each other.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You’re giving a good imitation. Hey, it’s my fault. I probably got too intense about wanting to protect you. Believe me, Andy, I was just trying to help, that’s all.”

  “That college and Porsche bit,” I said. “You sounded as though you could go for that too.”

  “Me? Those are the very things I’m temporarily trying to escape.” He smiled and added, “Money doesn’t mean anything to me. Just ask my dad. In fact, those were the exact words he used during our last argument.”

  I couldn’t leave it alone. “It must take money to travel the way you’re doing it.”

  He nodded. “I’m living on a very small amount I took from a generous trust fund my grandfather left for me. I wish he hadn’t. He earned it, and I wish he’d spent it all on himself.” He looked away from me for a moment and said, “You probably think of me as a spoiled beach bum. You’re in good company. That’s how my father sees me too.”

  “Oh, no,” I mumbled, but Pete shrugged and tried to smile.

  “I just wanted a year to myself,” he said, “before I got onto the treadmill of college and law school and joining my father’s firm.”

  For the first time since I’d met him, his eyes were serious. I’d hurt him, and it made me feel terrible. “I’m sorry, Pete.” I stood, and Pete stood, too, facing me. “It’s hard for me to trust,” I told him, “because—well, there is—was—a guy I trusted, but we had an argument and broke up. He’s—uh—temporarily dating someone else.”

  “If he broke up with you to date someone else, even temporarily, then he’s an idiot,” Pete said. His arms slid from my shoulders to wrap tightly around me, and his kiss, as warm as the sunlight, tasted of salt water.

  To make amends for all that I’d said, naturally I kissed him in return, and my knees were a little shaky when I finally pulled away and murmured, “I’ll try to bring you some dinner this evening.”

  “Don’t take any chances,” he said. “I’ve got plenty of cold canned beans and Twinkies. At the last grocery store I visited I got a really good buy on Twinkies.”

  “I’ll see you later,” I said.

  Pete waved to me when I turned, just before I entered the grove of trees, and as I walked along the path I smiled, thinking about the funny things he had said. Pete was so different from Rick.

  I wished I hadn’t thought about Rick, because a smidgen of guilt came back, just enough to make me uncomfortable. Pete was a guy I’d see tomorrow, then never see again. Rick was real. He had been a big part of my life, and I couldn’t believe it was over. I’d made promises to Rick, and he’d made promises to me. Surely those promises couldn’t be broken so easily. “Grow up,” he had told me, because he didn’t understand. Maybe it was all my fault. Maybe I was the one who couldn’t understand. Never mind what had happened. When I was home and could talk to him, we’d solve our problems. No matter what Mom had said, Rick would be part of my life again.

  The trailing end of a vine slapped my face, and I ducked, pushing it aside. I hadn’t been paying attention to where I’d been going, and now where was I? It certainly wasn’t the path to the north beach.

  Ahead of me was another clearing, so I worked my way through. I wouldn’t let myself think about being lost on this island because then I’d be afraid. I held my imagination in tightly, as though it were on a chain. Not a call of a bird, not the splash of the sea. The silence moved in, smothering me.

  I raced along the cleared path as fast as I could manage without tripping and falling flat on my face. I scratched my arms against branches and the rough trunks of palms, and beat back waving tendrils of vines. I lost all sense of direction. I kept telling myself that the island wasn’t that large, that Pete’s cove was close enough to the house to begin with. I couldn’t be too far from it, but once again I was on the verge of panic.

  Suddenly the clearing widened, and at the edge of it was a row of palms, facing the sea. I ran ahead, grasping one of the rough trunks for support, and gaped at the cove that lay below me. Anchored in the cove was a good-sized powerboat!

  It was smaller than the judge’s powerboat, Croesus, not big enough to need a crew, but it looked as though it could easily carry five or six people I couldn’t believe such good luck! Was the owner of this boat someone like Pete who had wandered in, looking for a place to anchor?

  The slope was gentle, so I scrambled down easily to the beach. I wasn’t quiet. I didn’t want to startle anyone. In feet, I hoped that someone would come up from the cabin.

  “Anybody here?” I called as I waded out into the water. “Hello? Anyone around?”

  A ladder hung over the side. I gripped it and hoisted myself up on the deck just as the door to the cabin opened, and someone came up the stairs.

  “Well, well. Andrea,” Kurt Cameron said. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

  CHAPTER

  10

  For the second or two I must have gone blank, because I suddenly became aware that Kurt was gripping my shoulders and gently shaking me. “Snap out of it, Andrea!” he said. “Don’t do something stupid like fainting.”

  I opened my eyes. “I won’t. Stop shaking me.”

  He looked concerned. “You’d better sit down.” He propelled me against the padded bench on deck. When the back of my legs hit it he let go, and I flopped.

  For a few moments we just looked at each other. I wondered what I was supposed to say. I couldn’t think of anything clever that would get me out of this mess, so I blurted out, “So—there were no boats on the island. And you’re supposed to be taking a five-mile swim to get help.”

  “Is that what they believe?”

  “That’s what you led them to believe.”

  He leaned fo
rward, resting his elbows on his knees, and said, “Andrea, two men have been murdered.”

  I interrupted. “I thought we didn’t know for sure.”

  “I do know. I’m sure. I saw the same evidence that you saw.”

  “This is making me angry!” I said. “All this sneaking and hiding and pretending and—”

  “Listen to me,” Kurt said. “I’m not Judge Arlington-Hughes’s secretary. I’m a private investigator.”

  My mouth opened and shut and opened again like those big-eyed fish in an aquarium. Nothing came out. Pete was right. And Kurt had actually told me.

  “I had to get away from the others to think things out. It’s up to me to investigate this case.”

  I held out my hands toward the boat. “Why didn’t you use this to go for help?”

  “And leave somebody else to get murdered?” He shook his head. “No way.”

  “Aunt Madelyn said that the judge and Mr. Granakee weren’t killed for the artifact.”

  He shrugged. “We don’t really know why they were murdered. But it’s a sure thing that the killer wants to get hold of the artifact before that boat comes tomorrow afternoon.”

  “They told me they were going to share it,” I said.

  He raised one eyebrow questioningly. “Do you trust them?”

  “I trust my aunt.”

  “Do you?” I shivered. “Do you have a radio on the boat? Could we call out for help?”

  “No radio,” he said. “The boat isn’t big enough to need one.”

  “Then teach me how to use this boat. You can stay here and protect everyone while I go for help.”

  “No. You don’t know these islands or the way to Freeport.”

  “You could teach me that too.”

  “It’s too much to learn in too short a time.”

  “If someone …” I almost told him about Pete, but a dark shiver at the back of my mind stopped me. Kurt was waiting for what I’d say next, so I babbled, “Does someone else, like Ellison, know about this boat?”

  “He knows about the boat, but he doesn’t know it’s on the island.”

  “Whose boat is it?”

  “The judge’s.”