It took less explaining than Plum expected. Perhaps that was given their unusual circumstances. Maybe they were all burned out on shock and horror.
“We wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t be surprised or fooled by her if she appeared suddenly,” Plum concluded.
“The good news is Sean’s still dead.” Sofia winced. “And I did not mean that the way it sounded.”
“Where are the others?” Warix asked.
Marlowe explained about them deciding to still move Sean’s body, and that they still needed to stick together. “Nothing’s changed,” she concluded. “We’re still trapped here. There’s still someone—”
“Or someones,” Cici interjected.
Marlowe nodded. “Or someones trapping us here, and we need to stay safe and try to get off this damn island.”
“Got it,” Warix said.
His eyes narrowed as he looked over the three friends’ heads, staring back at the villa.
“Quick question, does the new plan involve setting the villa on fire?”
Plum whirled around. Thick white smoke was pouring out of a small window several yards away from the doors to the conservatory.
“Where is that?” Marlowe yelled as they started running toward it.
“It must be the kitchen!” Sofia yelled back.
Henrietta was letting out a fusillade of squawks as she bounced in Sofia’s arms. Even Peach and Cici were keeping up as they raced back the path to the villa.
“Where’s the closest door?” Shelley yelled.
“There’s two,” Warix called back. He skidded to a stop at the stone-paved walkway that led past the conservatory and down toward the window and the corner of the villa. “It’s around the same direction both ways,” he continued. He jabbed a finger at the conservatory. “Two of you go in there, open the butler’s pantry, and make sure they can get out that way.”
“We got it!” Cici yelled. She was already joining hands with Shelley. The two girls ran back to the French doors.
“I’ll go with them!” Peach called, running in mincing steps after the two other girls.
“Around the corner is the kitchen-garden area. There’s a door.” Warix started running in that direction.
Plum slowed just a bit, eyeing the smoke billowing forth from the small window.
“What?” Marlowe asked, slowing slightly to match Plum. They followed Warix, leaving the pluming window behind.
“It doesn’t smell like a fire,” Plum explained.
They rounded the corner. The small kitchen garden was just an array of weed-choked pots filled with rocks, sandy soil, and not much else.
Warix pounded on the door.
“This way!” he yelled to whoever might be trapped, unable to see through the smoke inside.
“It’s locked?” Marlowe asked in dismay.
Plum turned and picked up a small statue of a cherub. “Move!” she yelled.
Warix darted to one side. Plum heaved the cherub through the window in the door. In her mind’s eye, the stone winged cherub looked back at her, grateful to be gifted with flight, even just once.
The window smashed. Glass shattered inward.
Warix pulled his sleeve over his fist and knocked out the remaining shards of glass, then reached in and opened the door from the inside. They could hear furious coughing.
When the door opened, a large cloud of white smoke fumed up and out. Jude stumbled into the doorway.
“I got you.” Warix looped Jude’s arm over his shoulders, helping him out and onto the garden grounds.
“Where are the others?” Marlowe asked.
“What happened?” Warix asked.
Jude tried to talk but couldn’t stop coughing.
“Just yes-or-no questions!” Plum said.
“Is it a fire?” Warix asked.
Jude shook his head.
“Did the others get out?” Marlowe asked.
Jude shook his head.
Plum and Warix spun on their heels and headed back to the kitchen door. The smoke had dissipated almost completely. They moved through the kitchen door into a sort of mudroom.
“Dude!” Warix yelled.
The chemical-sweet scent of the smoke still hung in the air.
They edged past the hallway and into the kitchen itself. The large stainless steel door to the walk-in refrigerator hung open, meeting the freestanding butcher block island and acting as a sort of temporary wall.
On the exterior wall of the villa to her left, Plum saw the baker’s rack piled with copper-bottomed pots and pans, and above it the high, narrow window, which was partially open, allowing some of the smoke to pour outside and alert them. Plum tried to reach the window to open it wider. Even though she was tall, she still had to climb on the bottom shelf of the rack. Pots and pans shivered, rattling with her slightest move.
The window was open as wide as it could go. Plum turned and knocked a saucepan off the shelf. It landed on the tiled floor with an impressively loud clatter. Plum gasped at the noise. What if the killer was still in the kitchen and knew exactly where she was now?
Plum scrambled off the rack. From the window above, she heard shouts. She saw first Peach’s platform espadrilles, then Cici’s platform sandals and Shelley’s Birkenstocks, the two girls half supporting, half dragging a man, his black sneakers stumbling between them.
“We have Dude!” Cici’s scream carried into the kitchen.
“We have Jude!” Sofia called back.
“Does anyone see Jalen?” Plum yelled.
“No!” Warix yelled back. “Maybe he went through the villa!”
Plum nodded. She followed Warix back outside.
Peach led the way with Cici and Shelley following her and dragging Dude around the corner, stumbling down the slope into the kitchen garden. They dropped more than lowered Dude onto the scrub grass near Jude. Then again, Dude was twice Cici’s size, and practically twice Shelley’s size as well. Dude lay on the grass, panting and coughing as hard as Jude had.
“Dude!” Jude croaked. The boy leaned over and wrapped an arm around the older man’s shoulder.
Dude tried to reply but was seized with further coughing.
“What happened?” Shelley asked.
“We broke into the door.” Warix gestured behind them.
“Jude said they were still inside,” Plum continued. “Did Jalen come your way? Through the villa?”
“We were already out here, maybe?” Shelley suggested.
“Oh my God,” Peach interrupted, eyes wide. She was bouncing a little on her toes, full of adrenaline. “That was sick. Smoke everywhere, we went in, you know, to help, and we couldn’t see, but then this big guy was just there, and they grabbed him and we got out!” Her tone was triumphant.
Peach swiped at her phone, then held it out, putting up a peace sign as she captured a selfie with the two smoke-inhalation victims lying on the stubbled grass behind her.
Dude redoubled his coughing as he flapped a hand at the kitchen door. “Jalen didn’t get out.”