The Voice inside My Head (18 page)

The first sob tears at my insides like shards of glass. I bury my head in Zach’s shoulder to hide the humiliation, but he takes it as some sort of sign and just hugs harder. I feel another arm on my back and then another, and I’m monkey in the middle of some insane group hug, which, like family dinners, is yet another thing we don’t do at home.

“Let it out, child,” says Reesie’s mom. “There be no shame in grief.”

“I need air,” I gasp.

“Of course we care,” croons Reesie’s mom, her voice muffled in the crush of bodies.

“I think he said ‘air’,” says Reesie, who sounds farther away.

“You need to get your hearin’ checked,” chides Nanny. “Why would he say ‘air’?”

“Because it’s a hundred degrees in here and you all are suffocating him.”

“Oh, dear,” says Reesie’s mom, and the tangle of bodies abruptly parts.

Light-headed, I lean over, putting my hands on my knees.

“You okay?” asks Zach.

I nod but don’t rise until the dizziness subsides. Zach takes my arm and nudges me back to my chair.

“Reesie, warm up his tea,” Nanny commands.

Reesie leans over and pours some fresh tea into my cup. For a split second, our eyes meet. She’s biting her lip, but I can see the smile tugging at the corner. Suddenly I feel light-headed again, and it has nothing to do with oxygen deprivation. I can’t help but wish that someday I might get a chance to explore this because I’ve never had this feeling about a girl before.

“Now what’s this about voodoo?” she asks, taking her seat.

I flush, remembering my tirade. It suddenly seems highly unlikely that Jamie had anything to do with Pat’s disappearance. I know I have to ask about the dolls, though. Their wall hanging is the first evidence I’ve found of someone knowing how to do a cross-stitch, though I suspect it’s not a rare skill around here.

I pull out the voodoo doll I took from under Tracy’s step. My own is still drying out in my room.

“I found this voodoo doll back at the Shark Center. There was a similar one under my step two days ago, and Tracy said there was one under Pat’s porch the day before she disappeared.”

“And you think I put it there?” asks Jamie incredulously.

“Well,” I say slowly, realizing how stupid it sounds. “Tracy thought you, or maybe Reesie, might be practicing voodoo.”

“Voodoo?” says Reesie, the warmth of moments before gone from her eyes. “Why would she be thinking we’re doing voodoo? Has she ever seen me slicing off chicken heads or dancing around in a trance?”

“No.”

“Then maybe she’s seen me hiding those dolls. Is that it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, she must have seen something. Maybe she saw me chanting or hexing people.”

“No, I think she would have mentioned that.”

“So she didn’t see me or my brother doing anything voodoo-like, but she thinks we’re the ones planting the dolls. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” I admit, knowing I’m not going to like what’s coming next.

“And you believed her?” Her voice is shaking. I can’t tell if she’s hurt or angry. I have a feeling it’s a bit of both, and that makes me feel worse than anything.

“No, not really.”

“But you asked Jamie if he was doing voodoo on your sister.”

“It was just an idea.” I can feel the sweat popping out on my forehead again.

“Tell me, Luke, do you think everyone on Utila is practicing voodoo?”

I knew this was coming.

“Leave the boy alone, Clarice Doreen,” says her mom. “Can’t you see you be embarrassin’ him?”

“Well, I sure hope so.” Reesie crosses her arms over her chest, but a look from her mom ends the interrogation.

I want to apologize but that seems like admitting guilt, and I never even believed in the voodoo crap, at least not much. I get to my feet.

“I think we’ve taken enough of your time tonight,” I say politely. “Thanks for the tea and dry clothes.”

“You be welcome here anytime,” says Reesie’s mom firmly. “My name’s Miss Hettie. You get yourself into any trouble, you tell someone to call Miss Hettie. I mean that. And don’t let Reesie be scarin’ you. She be all bark.”

“Ya come back for some more of my coconut bread,” adds Nanny.

Jamie walks us to the door. I’m surprised to see Reesie trailing behind. The two of them follow Zach and me out to the porch.

As we reach the steps, Jamie puts a light hand on my arm.
“Luke,” he begins, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what Trish might have been feeling the night she went missing.” He meets my eyes with a bleak look. “The fact is, her death is on me. She thought I was rejecting her. I know that. I went back later that night to tell her how sorry I was. It was such a stupid fight. Of course I wanted her to stay on, every bit as much as she wanted to stay. I just didn’t want her giving up everything to be with me. I know there’s nothing I can ever do to make it up to you and your family, but you have to know how sorry I am.” Jamie offers his hand and I take it, again noticing the firm, rough feel of it and the warmth.

“I do,” I say, and I mean it. I don’t think their fight caused my sister to drown herself, though. What Jamie doesn’t understand is that Pat and I grew up in a family where screaming matches were a daily occurrence. There’s no way a simple disagreement would push Pat over the edge. In fact, hearing about her plans and meeting this family only makes me more certain she would have fought hard to hang on to the life she was building here, which means someone else is responsible for her disappearance.

“Hey, do you know if my sister was mixed up in the drug runners that have been refueling at the airport at night?”

Jamie drops my hand and steps back.

“Drug runners?” He and Reesie exchange glances.

“Where’d you get a notion like that?” Reesie asks carefully.

“I ran into a guy who said Tricia might have been trying to make trouble for the drug runners.”

A faraway look crosses Jamie’s face. He seems so sad, I regret bringing it up.

“I told your sister to stay away from those people, but when she’s got a bee in her bonnet, not hell or high water could dislodge it.”

I nod sympathetically. “So do you think she could have done something to make them come after her?”

“You know, it never occurred to me. The plane that went down had Red Cross insignia on it, but that was just a cover-up. They found a Venezuelan flag underneath. The landings had been going on for months before the crash. Trish was already riled up, but when they dropped those drugs in the water, I’d never seen her so mad. She said she was going to go up there one night and confront them. I made her promise me she wouldn’t, but the night she disappeared … I was so sure she was upset about our fight. But now that you mention it —”

“Jamie,” interrupts Reesie. “It’s late. We should all be getting to bed. I’m sure we’ll all be thinking more clearly in the morning.”

I scowl at her. “Finish what you were saying, Jamie.”

“I did hear a plane that night, but that doesn’t mean it had anything to do with Trish. You let me look into it, Luke. These are dangerous people. There’s not much I can do for Trish anymore except keep her brother safe. Promise me you’ll leave this to me.”

“People are best minding their own business,” Reesie announces. I’m not sure which one of us she’s bossing around.

“You make all of the furniture in there?” I ask, deliberately changing the subject.

“Yeah.”

“You could make a bundle back home producing work like that.”

He gives a hint of a smile. “You’re not so different from your sister after all; she was always saying that. But what would I be doing chasing money a thousand miles away when there’s everything a person needs to be happy right here?”

I think about that for a minute. “I guess you must have won that argument.”

“Trish is gone.” Jamie’s grief is suddenly so palpable, I wonder how I could have ever doubted him. “I didn’t win anything.”

I start down the steps but look back when he continues.

“One thing you need to know, Luke. She didn’t choose me instead of you. She talked about you all the time, even talked about bringing you down here.”

I nod.

“I’m sure you’re right,” I say to Jamie.

“You’re welcome here anytime, Luke. I hope you know that.”

“Sure.” I’m striding toward the gate, my chest tight with everything I’m struggling not to feel — hurt, betrayal, anger, guilt. Even when I find my sister, this is something I’ll
never change my opinion about. She gave up on us, all of us.

I hear the door shut behind us. I think they’ve both gone back inside so I’m surprised to hear Reesie’s voice as we reach the gate. “You’re planning on going up there, aren’t you?”

I stop and turn. Zach, close on my heels, stops too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s talking about us investigating the drug dealers,” Zach hisses.

I sigh.

Reesie moves forward into the porch light, her hands on her hips. “You heard what Jamie said.”

“Who died and made him ruler of the planet?” says Zach, stepping behind me, so she doesn’t have a clear view of him.

“You know she can tell it’s you who’s talking, right?”

“Shh,” he whispers. “She’ll hear you.”

“So you and the brainchild are gonna go investigating drug runners?”

“We haven’t made any decisions about going up there,” I lie.

“You boys don’t have the first clue about investigating,” she says. “Have you even been to the police yet to ask them what happened?”

“We were going to do that tomorrow,” Zach blusters.

“Good,” says Reesie. “Then I’ll meet you out front of the Shark Center at twelve tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

“Show-off,” says Zach loudly — after Reesie’s gone inside.

“Good comeback, buddy.” I pretend I didn’t notice he’d waited till she was out of hearing range. We high-five and Zach smiles happily, before a frown crosses his face.

“We
are
going up to the airport tonight, right?”

“You bet.”

I
t’s around two in the morning by the time we’re squatting in some spindly bushes near the edge of the runway. Though the rain has stopped, the ground is squelchy underfoot and we’re both in flip-flops. I have only a vague notion of how this is going to go down.

First we need to confirm that there really are drug planes using the Utila runway on a regular basis. Then we have to find out if they had anything to do with my sister’s disappearance. I don’t know how I’m going to find that out, short of asking them directly. The drug runners clearly saw her as a threat. But if they did something to Pat, they’re not going to admit it. Our best option is probably to find out if there is drug running going on and then get the police involved. Getting jumped by Bobby’s guys proves that they had it in for her.

Just as I’m reaching this conclusion, there’s the unmistakable drone of a plane circling overhead. My heart starts thumping. The plane does a full circle above and is starting a second when a brilliant spotlight flips on, illuminating the runway. And us.

I hit the dirt, or more accurately mud, while Zach stands up and shades his eyes, peering into the light.

“Zach, get down!” I hiss.

“I’m trying to see who turned on the light.”

“They’ll see you. Get down!”

Zach drops to his knees, but we both realize it’s too late when we hear feet pounding the pavement, coming toward us. We can see the silhouettes of at least five guys, all carrying what look like automatic rifles. Despite my desire to interrogate them about my sister, running is the only sensible response.

“Run!” I shout.

I jump up and take off at top speed, crashing through bushes, covering more than a dozen yards in the other direction before I hit the sanctuary of the tree line. Only then do I realize Zach’s not behind me. I wildly look around for him, until I realize in horror what he’s done. He’s taken my instruction to run, but gone straight at the gunmen. Now he’s struggling with two guys, while two more point rifles at him and another raises his gun preparing to bring it crashing down on Zach’s head. In the chaos, everyone has forgotten the plane, which has already started its descent and is heading directly for them.

I’m frozen in indecision at the horror of Zach’s immediate danger and the shock of a plane about to plow into him. I race back toward Zach. Maybe I can hurl myself at him and knock him out of the hands of the drug runners and the path of the plane at the same time. But seconds after touching down on the tarmac, the pilot must have spotted the people on the ground because the plane veers sharply to one
side, careening off the runway. The drug runners drop Zach and turn to watch their own plane hurtling into the bushes. My heart explodes against my ribcage as I realize it’s now heading straight for me. I swerve just in time, only to be knocked over by the force of the wind it stirs up as it barrels past. A screeching clatter signals a wing being sheared off by a nearby tree. Finally, the plane lurches to a stop.