I literally froze in my chair, trying to see past him. Was anyone else in the library—if anyone was left—paying attention? I hated the thought, but I wondered if he was here as friend or foe. And how had he known I was here? Why show up today when he’d been MIA for days?
And what of mine could he possibly have?
I knew all of these questions must’ve shown on my face. He looked … resigned. He took off his hat, shook the water off it, and moved into the room. He reached into his pocket, then extended his closed hand to me. “Here,” he said.
Wordlessly, I held my hand under his. He released my rock into my palm. The rock I’d dropped the night I’d followed Thea Coleman/Anna Wakeland to the trailer. I glanced at him, the question written in my eyes.
“She knew you were following her,” he said. “She told me you’d seen us all. I have to admit I didn’t believe her, but … I found your rock. It’s lovely. Does it mean something?”
I ran my fingers over the smooth orange stone. “Carnelian,” I said. “It’s good for peace and harmony. Cass gave it to me.”
Leopard Man nodded. “‘I feel within me a peace above all earthly dignities, a still and quiet conscience,’” he murmured.
I thought about that one. “Richard III?”
“Henry VIII,” he said.
I turned the stone over and over in my hand. “How on earth did you find this? I crawled around out there for a while. The next day.” I glanced up at him. “Everything was gone. Your trailer. Like it wasn’t even there at all.”
He didn’t answer; instead, he motioned toward JJ on the floor. “May I?”
I nodded, slipping the stone into my pocket. “Of course. He loves you.” I watched as JJ rolled over and squeaked at him, leaning into his hand for petting. “Thank you for bringing it to me. I’m sorry I spied on you. But that woman…” I trailed off. “How do you know Thea? Or is it Anna?” I held his gaze, a challenge.
He met it head on, in that quiet but steady way he had. “It’s Thea now,” he said. “Anna is long gone.” There was something in his eyes when he said it, something sad.
I leaned forward. “What do you mean, long gone?”
“Anna has been gone for thirty-plus years,” he said. “We shouldn’t talk about her. It’s Thea now.”
“Like Carl?” I asked, watching his face. “Although a lot of people seem to know you by that name.”
He didn’t ask how I knew or how I’d found out. He didn’t look particularly surprised or offended by my words, either. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he said, “I never wanted people in this life to know me from my last life.”
I frowned. “What life?”
He smiled a little. “I moved here in 1977. I had a whole other gig before … this.” He did a Vanna White motion at his long coat.
So three years before I was born, Leopard Man had started a new life on our island. I had so many questions—about him, Carl, Thea Coleman. I’d been waiting days for a chance to talk to him. Now that he was in front of me, I was not even sure where to start. “Why?” I asked finally. “Why did you come here?”
“Well,” he said. “It’s a bit of a story. Perhaps I should introduce myself first.” He extended a hand across the small space between us. I reached out and accepted it, noticing how smooth his skin was, how cool his hand was to the touch.
“My name is Carl Torrence,” he said.