“Lucky for you, I’m not a murderer. You know they wanted me to get rid of Jessie too? I’d never do that. I just wanted her to be happy. I could see how she was suffering. Wouldn’t anyone want to help something they cared about feel better?”
She had so many questions for this man, but she’d have to save them for later, when she’d arrested his ass and put him in lockup. Still, it was good news that he didn’t consider himself a murderer. She could work with that.
She focused on noticing every detail of their surroundings as they made their way through the woods. A glimpse of sparkling ocean where the pines thinned out. Another trail that meandered to the east. A crushed-up soda can that someone had tossed aside. They were heading west, she decided after catching sight of the sun sinking toward the horizon straight ahead of them. If they were on the western side of the island, which she thought likely, then they weren’t far from Tamara Brown’s cottage.
Even though she’d helped to arrest Tamara earlier in the year, she doubted the old healer held it against her. She was too wise and forgiving for that. If she could get away from Seth, she’d try to find Tamara.
Would Jack be looking for her? His image swam into her mind, his wry smile, his clear gray eyes, and her heart trembled with longing. Was Jack okay? He probably had his hands full searching for Jessie. Had he tried to call her? Where was her phone? Her crossbody bag was gone, and the pockets of her jacket were empty. She didn’t even have her badge or any kind of ID on her.
But Tamara knew her. Maybe Tamara, with all her herbal wisdom, would know of a way to flush this shit from her system.
There, that was her plan. Escape and find Tamara.
Coming up with it had exhausted her. The next time Seth checked on her, she didn’t have to pretend to be vacant. That was how she felt.
“Looks like Night Light really works on you. You’re very lucky. I had to give Jessie a huge dosage before it did anything for her. I wonder if it’s connected to alcohol tolerance? I dated a Korean girl once and she’d get a rash after half a glass of wine. We’re still learning about Night Light so I need to take note of things like this.”
Her eyelids drooped and she swayed on her feet. He grabbed her hand to keep her from falling. “Don’t pass out yet. I don’t want to have to carry you.”
A wolf whistle sounded in the woods ahead of them.
“Shit. That’s my contact. Just…stay here. I’ll be right back.” He pushed her behind a tree and helped her lower herself to the ground. “Believe me, you don’t want those guys to catch you. You’re better off with me.”
She did believe him. But she had to know what was going on. She peered from behind the tree and watched Seth hurry down the path towards someone else coming toward him. She squinted at the newcomer but couldn’t make out much about him. No, them. Two men, or three? She couldn’t quite see, and the effort was making her dizzy.
Wait, was that…Yes. It was. A uniform. Not Harbortown PD, but something official.
And then the fog reached up and swallowed her. Her last thought was a frantic effort to cement that shadowy image into her memory.
38
Jack barely got Jessie out of the water taxi’s cabin before she vomited over the edge. Again, and again.
“Why do I always get the seasick ones?” Captain Sparrow grumbled as Jack carried his exhausted sister back inside. He settled her on the bench and tucked his jacket around her.
“Jessie doesn’t get seasick. This is good. Maybe her system is rejecting the drug.”
“Look, this ain’t a rehab. We’re about five minutes out from the west dock. What do you want me to do?”
He thought quickly. He wanted to get Jessie home, but he didn’t want the entire island seeing her get off the boat like this. Maybe Marigold could help them. “Let me make a call.”
He dialed Marigold’s number, but before she could answer, his phone was being plucked from his hand.
“No,” Jessie whispered. She turned his phone off. Her face was pale and clammy, droplets of sweat dotting her upper lip. But when she looked at Jack, he saw recognition in her eyes. She knew him, and she knew herself. “No time.”
He dropped next to her on the bench. “What do you mean, no time?”
“We have to stop them…”
“Stop who? From what?”
His urgent questions were too much for her; she closed her eyes. A frown formed on her forehead as she worked to focus. God, he’d give anything to help her, or to even know what she needed.
“Bunker,” she finally said in a voice maybe one decibel above a breath.
The old bunker was in the middle of the woods. The water taxi couldn’t exactly drop them off there.
The closest piece of shoreline to the bunker would be…the Clyde homestead. That was definitely the last place he intended to take Jessie. The only reason he’d go there would be to demand an antidote for this weird drug. But now that Jessie was coming out of it, he didn’t want to get anywhere near them.
