“Dude, your boy’s on the prowl,” Fisher said, tilting his head toward the side of the house.
Joaquin walked around to see better, and I automatically went with him. Jack Lancet, one of Joaquin’s more evil charges, was pacing outside one of the east-facing windows, looking through the panes with a creepy smile on. The man had been executed after murdering three helpless children.
“Sonofa—”
Joaquin stormed right over to him, grabbed him by the back of his coat, and flung him away. Lancet hit his knees, muddying the front of his pants, and looked up at Joaquin with pink shame painted across his cheeks.
For a split second, I felt sorry for him. He looked sad, almost disgusted with himself, as he cowered in the rain. Part of me wanted to go help him up, offer him a kind word. But then my logical side kicked in.
The guy is sick, Rory. Sick. He hurt—killed—little kids.
It was that one word that wedged itself inside my chest, though, and stuck, like something jagged and raw. Sick. Who was to say what made people do the things they did? Was it nature? Nurture? Their own logic? Their needs and their longings? What had made me kill Steven Nell that day? Why was it my instinct to lash out and take his life rather than to turn the other cheek?
This horrible ache settled deep inside me, and I longed for my mother and the comfort of her words in a way I hadn’t in a long time. At the same moment, I wished like hell that Tristan had made good on his promise to be there for me, to be trustworthy, to teach me everything I needed to know. He’d been doing this for so long that I was sure he had the answers to my deep, dark questions.
What if he’d been telling the truth in that note? What if there was still a chance…?
Suddenly Jack Lancet looked me in the eye and laughed. I felt my face harden, my jaw clench. It was as if he’d read my mind and was laughing at my naive hope.
Tristan was evil. I wouldn’t give him the chance to fool me again.
“Get the hell out of here,” Joaquin growled at Lancet. “We don’t want any trouble from you.”
Lancet pulled his lapels up around his chin and scurried off in a zigzag line, his laughter carrying back to us on the wind. I peeked through the window and saw two boys playing video games, a few little girls—including Darcy’s charge—busy with a tea party, and a handful of others reading books and stacking blocks. Krista’s makeshift playroom. Suddenly I went dizzy.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I said, touching a hand to my head.
Joaquin gently took my hand. “It’s okay. They’re safe. For now, anyway.”
Still, I made sure to watch Jack Lancet until he was finally down the hill and out of sight. When we rejoined our friends on the patio, Krista was lifting a cardboard box onto the table.
“Before you go in, everyone, take on
e of these.” She was very authoritative suddenly, very in-charge, and I remembered my mom once saying that in times of crisis, we find out what we’re really made of.
My mom. I shuddered as I heard her voice again, warning me to stop on the bridge. Had I really just imagined it? Or had she somehow been there?
“Rory? Here.”
I blinked. Krista held out a compact black walkie-talkie to me. It had red buttons on the side, and a short, rubber-encased antenna. Beeps and static sounded out as my friends fiddled with their new toys.
“Everyone, make sure you’re set to channel one,” Krista told us, holding up her walkie and pressing one of the side buttons to show us how to change it. “These have a really good range, so we should be able to stay in touch no matter where we are on the island.”
“And modern technology finally gets its hold on Juniper Landing,” Kevin said with a grin.
I wasn’t even going to touch the irony of that.
Suddenly the back door opened and a few of our new visitors streamed out, including Myra Schwartz, who offered me a wave and a smile, which I happily returned. She was looking stronger, the cut on her forehead covered by a gauze bandage.
“Hurricane watch!” she said. “Can you believe it?”
I had no clue what she was talking about, so I shrugged in response. Luckily, she kept walking and headed across the bluff and down the hill with the others.
“Hurricane watch?” Fisher said under his breath.
“That’s what the mayor’s come up with to explain the lack of cell service. Big storm moving up the coast, taking out power lines and cell towers.” Krista rolled her eyes.
“Not bad,” Bea said with a thoughtful frown. “Explains the weather, too.”