Raquel Byrnes (25 page)

Simon stood at the door of the library, caught my gaze, and nodded for me to follow. I met him in the foyer.

“They don’t know what you’re talking about, do they?” he asked, his face tense.

“No. I don’t think they’re behind the other things.” My shoulders slumped. “Something isn’t right here.”

A knock at the front door interrupted Simon’s reply, and we let Sheriff Levine and a deputy in. Two paramedics with a stretcher followed after them.

“They’re in the library.” Simon pointed.

“This is a mess,” Levine said as he watched them go. He sighed, pulled out a notepad and pen, and looked at Simon from under furrowed brows. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“No.” Simon stared back at him, his face impassive. He put his arm around my shoulders. “Neither did Rosetta.”

“Well, Ms. Ryan, we’ll have to question you, regardless.” Levine nodded to the deputy at his side. “If you’ll go with my deputy here—”

“She’s not going anywhere without our lawyer,” Simon said, and his embrace held me still. “That goes for Tuttle and O’Shay as well.”

“Closing ranks again, are we, Simon?” Levine asked, and the steel in his voice startled me. “Still think the rules don’t apply to the Hale heir-apparent?”

His deputy shook his head, a derisive look on his face. “This isn’t familiar at
all
,” the deputy muttered.

“What did you say?” Simon snapped as he moved toward the deputy.

“That’s enough,” Levine broke in, his hand going between them. He turned to his deputy and nodded out the door. “Mike, go and secure the area, will you?”

The deputy glared at Simon for a second more before leaving.

“With the ferry out and the weather coming in strong, your lawyer won’t get here before tomorrow, Simon. As far as I’m concerned, Ms. Ryan here is just a witness. No harm in having her answer a few questions for me.” Levine looked at me. “If that’s OK with you.”

I stared after the deputy milling just outside the front door. What had he meant?

“It’s OK,” I said. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Simon glared at Levine but withdrew his arm. He turned to me, his expression softening as he hooked me under the chin. “You stop, whenever you want.”

“I will.” I rose up on tiptoes and pecked him on the chin. “I promise.”

“Well, then.” Levine gestured towards the kitchen door. I followed him, catching the look he gave the deputy.

We sat opposite each other at the table, his notepad in front of him. I told him about the noises and what I’d thought I’d seen that led me to ask Simon to investigate with me. He wrote as I recounted our finding Mrs. Tuttle with Tobias and her explanations to me about hiding the truth and inadvertently scaring me.

“And she denies having anything to do with the other…incidents?” Levine asked. “The braided hair and the other occult type things?”

“Yes. She seems to have no idea what I am talking about.” I wrung my hands, worried for Tobias. “Sheriff Levine, there’s no way this boy could attack someone in that state.”

“So it would seem, Ms. Ryan.”

“Then you don’t believe he murdered someone?”

“I’m not sure of anything at this point, Ms. Ryan.” Levine shut his notebook, shaking his head with a sigh. “The break-ins seemed more like someone searching for food. Clothing was taken, but no money, no valuables, so far, have been reported missing.”

“But a woman was killed…”

“She fell down the stairs of her house. Now, whether that is a result of being pushed or an accident, that is for the investigation to sort out.”

He made to leave, but I put my hands on his stopping him.

“Sheriff,” I began, my heart racing. “What did the deputy mean by his remarks?”

Levine sat back, gazed at me for a few seconds. “The last time we were called to this residence, Amanna’s body had just been discovered.”

“Oh.” I nodded. Of course, there were people on Noble who believed Simon had something to do with her death. “I see.”

“I don’t think you do. I noticed you seem to be on familiar terms with Simon or I wouldn’t say anything, but you ought to be careful.”

“What does that mean?” I stared at him, worried. “You ruled her death an accident, if I recall.”

“The investigation failed to turn up enough evidence to prove otherwise, but it didn’t acquit Simon of suspicion. Those are two very different things.”

“But—”

“Amanna’s body was badly broken when we found her. She went off the cliffs and most times, anything goes over at that spot, and it’ll go straight down to the sea, but Amanna, she…snagged on a rock outcropping.”

“I don’t think I want to hear this.” My stomach turned, and I wiped my brow with the back of my hand.

“Yes, you do,” Levine said, leaning forward. “She’d been dead a couple of days—”

“Wait, what?” I shook my head. “But Simon said she went missing the night of Lavender’s birthday.”

“Yes, but she wasn’t reported missing for two days,” he said, his gaze catching mine. “And all the breaks in her poor body were consistent with a fall like that except for one thing. Her nails.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Her nails were broken, torn, Ms. Ryan,” Levine whispered. “Like she was clawing at something.”

“Well, if she slipped—”

“No dirt,” Levine interrupted. “She didn’t have dirt under those nails. She had skin.”

The light scars on Simon’s arms flashed in my mind, and I held my breath, tried to keep from showing Levine a reaction.

“Whose skin was it?”

“That’s just the thing.” Levine shook his head and stood, shoving his notebook in his pocket. “By the time we got a court order, Simon was nowhere near this island.”

“W-where was he?”

“Don’t know,” Levine said. “And when we finally did locate him, back here, three days later, we no longer had any evidence to test against.”

“I…what?”

“A flood, Ms. Ryan,” Levine said, “
accidently
”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“destroyed the entire evidence room.”

“But surely you can’t believe that Simon caused it to rain.” I stood, my arms crossed.

“I never said anything about rain. The pipes—new, mind you—burst spontaneously one night. So you decide where you’re going to place your trust, Ms. Ryan. It may affect a great deal more than you realize.” With that, Levine turned and strode out of the kitchen.

All the doubt and fear I’d been keeping at bay welled up, and I took in a shuddering breath.

Simon came in, his beautiful face lined with concern. He reached for me, and I jumped.

“Rosetta, my love, what did he tell you?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly and took his offered hand. “I’m just…I’m just jumpy from all of this.”

He pulled me into a hug. His strong arms enveloped me, and I listened to the beat of his heart against my ear. How could this man, this loving father, be the monster everyone believed he was? Surely, I would know.

A plaintive voice echoed in my head.

You see what you want to see. Remember your wedding day.

31

Where there should have been light, darkness obscured the morning hours. I stood in the kitchen and stared out the window at the wind-whipped trees. Levine’s warnings blared in my head. Torn nails. Scratches. A sabotaged investigation. Tying knots into a lock of hair, I listened to the rain beat on the roof and cobbled drive. No thunder or lightning yet, but by the look of the black clouds sliding across the sky, it was coming.

“Rosetta.” Simon’s voice made me start, and I looked over my shoulder at him and Lavender. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat, forced a smile, and sat with them at the table.

“Why are the sheriffs here, Daddy?” Lavender asked.

“Remember Toby?” Simon scraped the remainder of her eggs into a pile. “Mrs. Tuttle’s son.”

“No.” She took a sip of milk, giving herself a mustache. “Are they taking him to jail?”

“No, sweets,” I answered. “He’s sick, and everyone is here to help him.”

“I don’t like people in our house, Daddy. Make them leave, OK?”

“They’ll go soon.” Simon sat back in his chair and sipped out of a mug. He gazed at me as a wave of golden hair fell into his eyes. He swept it back with a nod of his head. “Do you want to eat, Rosetta?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Noise from the foyer grew louder, and Phillip’s unmistakable voice boomed.

O’Shay poked his head in the kitchen. “Phillip brought Dr. Fliven,” he said. “He’s here to see your father.”

“I’ll be right there.” Simon scowled, putting his cup down and standing.

“Where are you going, Daddy?” Lavender’s face matched his, her small pink lips turned down in a scowl.

“I have to go and talk with the doctor and your grandfather,” Simon said. “You should come too, Rosetta.” He put his hand up as Lavender got up from her chair. “Not you, Lala. You stay and eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Lavender snapped and slammed her glass down. Milk flew all over her and the table. “I want to go sailing.”

“Lala,” I gasped and wiped at the mess. “What is the matter with you?”

“I want to go sailing,” she shouted again. Crossing her arms, she wouldn’t let me wipe her face.

“Simon,” O’Shay said from the door, “they’re waiting.”

“Lala, it’s raining. We can’t go sailing today.” Simon stroked her hair. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Not tomorrow.” She grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Today.”

“Listen, Lavender—”

“I’ll stay with her,” I said across his irritated voice, and he stopped.

“Thank you.” He gave me a grateful look before he pulled from her grasp and left.

“I hate the rain,” Lavender snarled and pushed her plate away.

I looked at her, taking in her sudden change from happy girl to angry child and wondered if the stress of all the deputies in her home reminded her of her mother’s death.

“Sweets, is there anything you want to talk to me about?”

She looked at me with tears filling her deep blue eyes and opened her mouth, but the door swung open again.

“Dr. Fliven is asking for you, Ms. Ryan,” O’Shay said.

“I’ll be there in a second.” I stood. “Lavender…” I started, but she ran around me, shoving past O’Shay before I had a chance to say anything more.

“He’s with Mr. Hale in the solarium.”

I sighed and nodded, clearing the plates. O’Shay left, and I rinsed the dishes in the sink worried about Lavender. All this must be too much for her. Maybe Simon should take her off the island after all. The thought of not hearing her sweet giggle or seeing her ringlets bounce through the roses made my heart ache.

“Are you hoping to erode the dishes clean?” Phillip said from the doorway, an amused smile on his face.

“I was just thinking.” I shut the water off.

“About?” He wandered into the kitchen, sniffed the carafe of coffee, and put it back down. “Sick of our crazy family yet?”

“No, I’m just a little out of sorts right now.”

“Trouble in paradise?” He grabbed a muffin from the basket on the counter and sat at the table. “What’s Simon done this time?”

I looked at him, wondering how much of the rivalry O’Shay told me about fueled the smirk on Phillip’s face.

“I’m just worried about Lavender. She’s taking all of this chaos so hard.”

“Probably brings back memories. Sheriff Levine and his cronies were here when her mother passed. He was just as bullish during those interviews, too.”

“Yeah.” I thought for a second. “Phillip, do you know anything about the practices of the gypsies here on Noble?”

“Like crystal balls?” He chuckled. “Those stereotypes are just that, Rosie, nothing more. I doubt old Yasmine could tell you the future any better than a fortune cookie.”

“No, not like that. I meant superstitions, like…I don’t know, like ghost lines.”

“What, now?” He raised a dark eyebrow, and I felt instantly lame.

“Never mind.”

“If you’re curious about their practices, you should talk to Josif,” Phillip said. “He believes in the old magic.”

“Old magic?”

“He would go with us sometimes, you know.” Phillip tossed the muffin wrapper on the table. “When Uncle Davenport took us on treks through dark places on the planet.”

“I saw a picture of Simon. He was on some sort of hunt or rite. Do you know what that was?”

“Oh yes.” Phillip laughed. “In the Congo. It was a rite of passage. There was an isolated people there, and we were there during their celebrations.”

“What was it that you did, exactly?”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” Phillip said. “I twisted my ankle on a hike a few days earlier, but Simon took part. I believe the rite was about hunting. Sort of a proving-by-providing sort of thing.”

“And Simon hunted, that’s all?”

“Yes, but”—Phillip made a face—“see it was to prove manhood so they ventured into the jungle to hunt the Okapi with spears like the elders.”

“You mean the half zebra looking thing?” I had trouble seeing the point of that.

“Simon got the first kill, if I recall,” Phillip said. “Even held the heart like the rest of the warriors. You should have heard the scream that came out of him. Like he had fire in his blood.”

“I had…I had no idea.” My stomach flopped. I’d known Simon possessed an undercurrent of something dangerous. What I worried about was how dark this part of him was. Killing with his bare hands somehow didn’t seem so out of the realm of possible now.

“Hey now.” Phillip chuckled. “That was ages ago on another continent. We were in the
jungle
, Rosetta, he’s obviously not—”

“I better go talk with Fliven,” I said and pushed through the door.

“Ages, Rosie,” Phillip called after me.

I wandered through the foyer. The front door remained open, and I caught sight of Mrs. Tuttle climbing into the back of the ambulance. The paramedic inside pulled the door shut, and they started up, the lights flashing frozen images of raindrops mid-motion.

O’Shay walked back in, closing the door on the sound and the storm.

I walked into the solarium, fighting back the feeling of dread pooling in my gut as I mulled over what Phillip said. Someone had moved lamps from the library into the solarium, and the glass room glowed despite the dust and dirt. Davenport stood talking with Dr. Fliven near the furniture.