‘I have no idea.’
I swore under my breath. ‘She’s too drunk to drive. And she doesn’t know this island, or these roads.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Fiona said. ‘I should have tried harder to stop her.’
‘Hey,’ I reassured her. ‘This isn’t your fault.’
‘What do we do now?’ she asked. ‘We can’t just let her drive drunk. She might hurt herself.’
I looked around at the crowd of people that were still gathered on the green. ‘Discreetly spread the word to anyone you think might be able to help. I’ll get my truck and take the south road out of town, if someone else can cover the others.’
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’ Fiona asked. ‘She might get mad if half the town are out combing the island for her.’
‘Better she’s mad than dead,’ I told her.
‘Or hurts someone else,’ Taylor added.
Fiona nodded. ‘You’re right.’
Taylor touched my hand. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No, it’s OK. This isn’t your mess.’
She put her chin up, defiant, her eyes flashing. ‘Don’t tell me in one breath that you’re falling in love with me and then in the next try and push me away.’
I sighed. ‘Is there any point in me arguing?’
She shook her head.
‘Well can I at least drive?’ I asked.
39
TAYLOR
‘We have to find her,’ I said, my eyes peeled on the windscreen in front. Jack’s headlights were on full, illuminating the road in front of us, sweeping around the bends, briefly illuminating the trees on the sides of the road.
‘We will.’
‘Where?’ I tried hard not to sound as anxious as I felt, although if my voice didn’t give it away, my jiggling knee would.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘But she can’t have gone far.’
‘What if she’s heading back to the mainland?’
‘We’ll find her before she does.’ His phone pinged with a message. Without taking his eyes off the road, he dug into his pocket and passed it over to me. ‘Pin is zero, zero, zero, zero.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘What?’
‘It’s not exactly a difficult one to hack, is it,’ I said, tapping it into the screen. ‘I mean, I probably could have guessed that in about four tries.’
‘If anyone wants to hack into my phone good luck to them,’ he said, shrugging. ‘A few sunset photos, some messages from my mother reminding me to call my grandmother for her birthday, and a golfing game I downloaded once when I was bored and haven’t played for about two years.’
‘How old is your grandmother turning?’
‘Eighty-six. Focus. Who was the message from?’
