Chapter 24

I left my apartment, windows open for Peter’s recovery, and ran across the lawn to Chris’s house. There were no cars in the driveway. The Mortons were out, as were Chris and the boys. The house was quiet as I opened the kitchen door and went straight to his workspace. On the counter were the floor plans Chris had shown many of the guests after my dinner party. They were of the house he’d been constructing, where the owners had gone bankrupt halfway through the project and had halted work.

The address was 39 Cross Road.

I realized that by now all of my suspects had seen these plans and had likely heard that the house was abandoned. A remote and empty house was a great place to hide a kidnapped victim. It was even better than the house I’d seen John Pierre use, since no one would be able to hear a scream.

The first floor outlined a kitchen, living room, dining room, bathrooms. The plan suggested a large home, definitely the type that seasonal residents liked to build for their summers, with porch space and sketches for a pool. I noticed a plan for a semidetached garage.

I flipped to another page below, which showed the second floor to the house.

Then, I turned to the last page, at the bottom of the pile, which outlined the basement of the house, finished with a media room, a wine cellar, a rec space, a laundry room, and a workout room. The wine storage area was as big as my apartment. It looked amazing.

I still hated to abandon Peter, but I headed to my car. I called Millie’s cell phone. It rang. No answer. I left a message. I texted her. Then I stared at my phone screen, but there was still no response. Instead, I got a text from Andy with a simple question mark. It was now after five, and I knew he’d arrived to my store without seeing a purple candle.

Only a couple of hours ago, I thought I might be close to letting Andy in on my mission. With my mother held hostage, I now knew I couldn’t. I felt in my bag for Agent Hill’s gun. I took it and shoved it into my sash. Then I thought of one more weapon I had at my disposal. I dashed into my house one more time and grabbed one of Peter’s handmade candles. I wasn’t a trained spy like Agent Hill, but I had a gun and a sleep-inducing candle in my sash, and a vial of liquid worth my mother’s life stuck into my bra.

Game on.

I jumped into the car and headed to 39 Cross Road. I needed one more bit of help—Siri. She gave me directions to the place. It was all the way out toward Sciasconset, a small outpost of a town at the other end of the island.

I decided to park at a distance from the house and find a place to hide until I got my bearings. I knew I should have been terrified, but I felt like a warrior. I’d been casting around for answers for the last two days, and I was ready to go head-to-head with this villain.

When I reached the Milestone Road that led to Sciasconset, I was careful not to exceed the speed limit, but it was hard. I was toying with picking up my speed when I saw a police car coming toward me from the other direction. I kept my eyes straight ahead and hoped that the fog was strong enough to hide my license plate: CNDLADY.

We passed. The driver did not flash his lights in greeting. I exhaled, and took it as a good sign.

About a mile later, however, I heard a funny noise in my car.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said to my steering wheel.

I pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the car. Sure enough, I’d gotten a flat tire. I pulled at the cape my mom had given me for warmth, and considered my next steps.

In the distance, I spied the Old Sconset Golf Course, known to those of us who have been on Nantucket a while as Skinner’s. I’m not a golfer, but the few times I’ve played, I’ve come to this public course. I realized that if I cut across the course by foot, I might be able to shorten the remaining distance to the house. I’d hoped to park closer to my destination in case Millie needed assistance escaping, but given the circumstances, this seemed like a good substitution to my plan.

From my car, I grabbed Millie’s sweater, and put it on under my red cape for extra warmth. Securing the gun and candle in my beautiful, flowery sash, I locked my car door and headed to the golf course, grateful I’d never changed out of my sneakers.

Unfortunately, Skinner’s has no golf carts, which would have been the ideal mode of transportation, and, I’ll admit it, I know how to jump-start a golf cart. When we were seniors in high school, our senior cut day had ended at the island’s fanciest golf club where we’d all “borrowed” the carts to play golf cart tag on the course. Let’s just say that the entire budget for senior brunch covered a couple of dents the carts encountered. Now, without a cart to speed my journey, I decided that I should try to find a map of the course to make sure I took no wrong turns in the growing darkness.

The small clubhouse was straight ahead. In the front of the building, which overlooks the sixth hole, was a porch. The rocking chairs that invite visitors for a relaxing drink from the bar after a long game, were stored inside for the night. Thinking someone might have dropped a map on the deck, I stopped there first.

The porch was completely tidied, not a map or a piece of trash anywhere. I risked Laruam tracking me for a moment, and put on my phone’s flashlight as I rounded the clubhouse and passed the putting green. Like everything else, the flags were down for the day. Stuck into a bench by the putting green, I noticed something that could pass for a folded map of the course or a scorecard that had not been worth keeping. I powered down my phone, and, with the dimmest light of the sky now leading me, I ran across the green.

Halfway across the field, I took a leap, but when I landed my body dipped farther than I expected. My foot immediately sank into the earth. I pulled, but found I was immobilized. My foot was in a hole. Stepping backwards, I got my foot out with ease, but my sneaker was jammed. As I leaned down to pull it out, I saw the beam of a flashlight coming toward Skinner’s.

I looked around for a spot to hide. The bench I’d been heading toward was the only coverage near me, so I abandoned my shoe and scurried to safety. Halfway there, I heard a familiar voice.

“Stella?” said Andy, his flashlight beaming directly on me so that there was no chance of escaping.

“Hi,” I said, covering my eyes from his blinding light.

Andy headed toward me.

“What happened to meeting me at five o’clock?”

“Andy,” I said. “I’m sorry I left you stranded, but there are things I cannot tell you. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“Stella,” he said. “You’ve either lost your mind or you’re really caught up in something. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope you’re caught up in something. And it’s time to let me in on things.”

“You know I would if I could, right?” I said.

“My car’s down the road,” he said. “Come on, let’s go. Don’t you have some birthday plans, by the way?”

“You know about my birthday night too?” I said.

“No,” said Andy. He said the word too slowly.

Even in the dark, I could tell he was lying.

“You like Peter, right?” I said.

“Sure,” he said, but his image was obscured in the darkness, and I couldn’t entirely read his expression.

“Sure? That’s it?” I said.

“Come on,” he said. “Your birthday will be over before you know it, and you’ll have spent it with me on this golf course.”

We should have moved, but the sound of the crickets and the rolling fog made time stand still for a moment.

“I can’t go with you,” I said.

I pointed across the putting green.

“I lost my sneaker.”

Andy walked toward the hole and pulled out my sneaker.

“Thanks,” I said. “The thing is, I think I sprained my ankle. Any chance you can drive your car up here? I’d rather not walk down the path.”

I sat on the bench and noticed that the map I’d hoped to find was no more than a leaf. As I dropped it to the ground, I noticed a whoosh of light across the black sky, and realized it was coming from the Sankaty Head Lighthouse, which was in the vicinity of Cross Road. I knew if I followed the direction of the beam of light, I’d reach the location of the house.

“Don’t move,” said Andy, as he turned his flashlight back on and headed down the path.

“Where would I go?” I said.

In the dark, I silently puffed my cheeks out to keep from exploding. The minute he left, I put on my sneaker.

I hated to ruin Millie’s beautiful gift, but the bright red of my cape would surely catch Andy’s eye. I ran about twenty yards in the opposite direction of the path I planned to take across the course and threw my cape on the ground.

I turned and ran back toward the putting green. I found a few stray golf balls sitting at the bottom of a bucket, neon balls which the kids loved during clinics. I grabbed two and continued toward the first hole. About fifty paces down the path, I heard Andy’s car pull up to the clubhouse, but I stopped for nothing. Behind me, I heard him shut his car door and then call my name. I knew he’d be worried about me, but I couldn’t stop or explain.

I kept running, as fast as my feet could carry me.