14

A welcome breeze came through the open windows of the back bedroom as Gavin gently pried a walnut board away from the stud, using a hammer and small crowbar. Once he’d created a small space between the shiplap and stud, he slid the crowbar into his tool belt and grabbed the thin, but sturdy, pry bar. He eased it between the two pieces of wood and tapped the hammer against it. Splitting the shiplap would ruin it, and he needed every square inch to meet his quota.

He tried to stay focused and keep his hands steady, but he longed to nap for a bit. The king-size mattress upstairs was a moldy mess from the storm that took off the roof last spring, but the twin-size mattress on the floor in the living room called to him. That’s where he’d slept of late, but it would probably be midnight before he gave in to the desire. His two twenty-four-hour shifts had allowed for little sleep this week. It seemed as though every time the EMTs and firemen returned to the station to sleep, another call came in, which was fairly typical during tourist season. What wasn’t usual was his working every free second on dismantling a house. When the work wasn’t so painstaking, he’d ask his buddies to help him.

“Knock, knock.” His mom’s voice echoed through the empty house.

“In the back bedroom.”

His mom stopped in the doorway. “Hey.” She had a lunch tote in hand, hopefully with lots of food for him.

“Hi.” He angled the pry bar slightly and tapped it more. Once he created enough space between the stud and shiplap, he’d slide a pair of metal shears between them and cut the nail. He’d discovered that was the best way to free the shiplap from the stud without splitting it. “Did you find what you were looking for last night?”

“Was I looking for something?” His mom’s brows furrowed.

“I think so. When you came by to drop off dinner—which was quite tasty, so thank you—you or one of the girls went into Sapphira’s painting room.”

Before Sapphira passed, she’d been very clear that the painting room was to be left untouched for as long as possible, giving Siobhan to the last minute to come home and claim everything inside that room. Of course Saffy had no idea they would dismantle her beautiful home and sell it off bit by bit. She had, however, expected them to move into it or sell it. But removing the home was the only way they could divide the property in half and sell each part to a builder.

“None of us girls went in there, Gavin. We were inside this house for less than sixty seconds before driving to Brunswick to shop for a new lantern for tomorrow night’s annual celebration on the marsh.”

Gavin withheld a sigh. His mamas and their annual reciting of the poem in period clothing seemed really out there to him, but he held his tongue.

“That aside”—his mom fluttered her hands—“it reminds me of why I’m here. You need to watch your reclaimed goods closer. Get them off the driveway.”

“A man is coming in about three hours, and we’ll load all the shiplap onto his truck, so no need to worry about that.”

“Good, because there was a thief hiding out in our garden last night. We scared her off.”

“Oh, good gravy, Mom. No one likes vegetables enough to hide out in a hot garden and steal them. You sure it wasn’t a bunny?” He put the pry bar and hammer in his tool belt and slid the metal shears in place.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You think I’m full of nonsense all the time. But I know what I saw, and after you chased a vanishing woman down the beach last week, I’d hoped you’d have a bit more respect for what people see. There is no proof you saw anyone, but you did.”

“True.” He squeezed the shears, trying to put enough pressure to cut the nail without adding stress to the antique walnut plank. “But your creature was a little bitty scared rabbit who happened to startle you.” He grimaced, hoping all pressure was being applied to the right spot.

She pulled a piece of material out of her purse. “You think a bunny was wearing this?”

Gavin’s heart lurched, and he clenched the nail cutters. The nail popped. He studied the plank, and thankfully his sudden movement hadn’t caused it to split.

It looked like the scarf the woman was wearing yesterday, the one who’d grabbed his attention and then disappeared. What was it about her that intrigued him? He was a nose-to-the-grindstone kind of guy, and any female close to his age was nothing but trouble. He’d learned that by the ripe age of twelve. He’d been overweight, and the girls at school and church had made him a target, taking out their angst and insecurity on him.

“Mom, there were three wrinkled and damp dollar bills on the counter last night.”

“Were they my tip?”

He studied her. Like an unsuspecting wave crashing in, he suddenly realized what was going on. The woman who’d disappeared on the beach. A woman with a similar build beside his truck yesterday. The opened door to Sapphira’s room. The scarf. The missing food. The three dollars. The wet pavement and footprints near the outdoor shower.

He closed the gap between them. “So you’re in cahoots with the firemen on this one, huh?” He took the scarf from her and shoved it into his shorts pocket. “I’ll keep this. Someone will want it, and I’m not giving it back without a payoff of some type. But I’m proud of you, Mom.”

She seemed confused. “I’m in cahoots with no one…except the girls in trying to get a better shop and you concerning Sapphira’s house so the debtors don’t take our home. Okay, fine, I’m in cahoots plenty, but not with the firemen. You think the guys put that woman up to hiding in our garden?”

“It’s sounding that way.”

She set the lunch tote on the floor. “Two of your favorite sandwiches.”

“Thanks.”

“We set a trap in the garden, and it’s attached to an air horn, so if you hear it go off, call the police.”

“So they can arrest a terrified bunny? Or maybe it’ll be the woman the firemen hired to pull a prank.”

“Gavin, I’m serious. It was a real woman, not a rabbit, and even if your pals hired her, which I seriously doubt, she had no right to steal our food. That garden is our contribution to the needy—from selling the food and donating the money, to giving fresh produce, to canning it—and we work hard for the yield.”

“Ah, now I get it. You’re going gangbusters to keep anyone from taking produce because you intend to win the annual competition of whose garden has the largest harvest for the needy.”

She huffed. “Maybe.” She angled her head. “We did the gardening work, and we get to use its produce however we choose, not some thieving misfit who is hungry because she smoked too much pot.”

Whatever else he thought of his mom’s little speech, he was convinced she wasn’t in on the prank his firehouse buddies were pulling. “Fine. If I hear an air horn, I’ll rush over there and set the intruder straight.” He chuckled. “So where are you off to all gussied up in gardening clothes?”

She appeared to be freshly showered, hair done, and makeup on, but she had on her clean but stained and slightly worn work clothes.

“The Keenagers are collecting produce, washing it, and divvying it up into pecks to sell at the farmer’s market early tomorrow morning. All proceeds go to the needy.”

“I thought the whole idea of the Keenager group was to have fun—keen old-timers reliving their youth.”

“It’s not the whole idea, no. Even the church teens work to give back to the community.”

“As long as it’s not to a hungry thief, right?”

His mom rolled her eyes. “What if she’s out to destroy our garden just because she can? But we’ve fixed that. Thieves take because they can, but she’ll be in for a huge surprise if she comes back.”

Gavin paused. “What did you—”

“Julep?” Dell rushed inside. “There you are.” She grabbed her hand. “We’re late.” She waved at Gavin. “Hey, handsome. I’d love to chat, but bye.” She threw him a kiss without so much as a pause.

Gavin set his tools aside and ate a few bites of a sandwich before returning to his work. Dusk fell, and his muscles ached, but there wasn’t time to take a break. He’d promised Roy Ashe ten thousand square feet of shiplap by nightfall, and it would take every minute to make that happen.

Dusk eased into the room, stealing his light. He attached three clamp work lights to various studs and angled them at the wall he was dismantling.

A blasting horn pierced the air, and someone screamed.

Seriously?

“Not funny, guys,” he mumbled. “I’ve got too much work to do.” While slipping the hammer and pry bar into his tool belt, he went through the house. Soon he was crossing the backyard. The air horn finally shut off. He pulled out his tactical flashlight and swept its beam across the thick foliage of the garden. He saw what appeared to be white skin or maybe clothing. “Get caught, did ya?” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed Lieutenant Jimmy.

“Hey, Gavin.” The man sounded pleased to hear from him. “What’s up?”

“I don’t have time for this.” He plowed through the rows of corn.

“Okay.” Jimmy laughed. “You need a hand with something?”

Gavin stepped out of the cornfield and paused the light on a woman in the middle of the sugar peas, fighting to get free of barbwire. “My mamas, the four of them, set a trap for your hired help. I imagine, since they used barbwire, that she may need medical assistance. I like a prank as well as the next person, but this needs to stop.”

The woman tried to back away from him, and she yelped in pain. Gavin shined the light in her face, and that one glimpse changed his tone. She had terror on her face, and if she was acting, she needed to be in Hollywood, not on this island.

“So is she real this time, man?” Jimmy asked.

Gavin realized he still had the phone to his ear. “I’ll need to call you later.” He ended the call and put the cell in his pocket. He shoved the flashlight vertically in his tool belt so it gave light without being intrusive. “It’s okay, ma’am. I’m here to help.”

She shook her head and tried to move away from him. “They called the police. The woman holding the gun said they would.”

A gun? Did the Glynn Girls pull a gun on this woman? Well, whatever was going on, she definitely wasn’t a rabbit, and he was beginning to think she wasn’t hired to pull a prank either. He saw a shiny liquid running down the woman’s arm, and he’d seen that same thing under the light of the moon too many times not to recognize it. She was bleeding.

“My name is Gavin, and I’m an EMT. I want to help you, okay?”

“You chased me down the beach…in a uniform.”

“Ah, that was you. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in my fireman’s uniform.” There was no way he could get close to her with metal cutters until she trusted him. “I told you my name. It’s Gavin. What’s your name?”

Her breathing was short and shallow, and he wanted to free her before she passed out. If she went limp right now, she’d be punctured with a dozen barbs. What were his mom and the girls thinking to do this?

“Mary.”

Okay, so maybe this was part of an acting skit. Was that real blood and real barbs or not? He ran a finger across a nearby piece of wire. Yep, it was real. But he’d bet money that wasn’t her name. It would be too big a coincidence, even for such a common name.

“Okay. I’m going to step closer, and I want you to remain in place. Can you do that?”

She gave a slight nod.

“Look.” He held up the metal cutters. “Five to seven snips with this, and you’ll be free. Okay?”

Again she nodded.

“Good. Very good.” He moved in closer, half expecting floodlights to come on and his buddies to start applauding and laughing, calling him gullible. But on the chance she could be for real, he continued onward. “Are you hungry? Is that why you’re here?”

“I lost my phone, cash, and credit cards at the beach yesterday when the tide came in.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. The tides catch a lot of people off guard.” He removed the flashlight from his belt and lowered the beam. “I just need to look in your eyes and check your pulse before we cut you free from the barbwire. Okay?”

“Why?”

“I need to know if I should call for an ambulance.”

“No!” She jerked one way and then another, trying to get free. “I’m not crazy. I…I’m waiting for my brothers.”

Why would she use the word crazy? Had the word been used against her, or was her thinking so addled she felt that way?

“That’s good about your brothers. Very good.” He kept his voice on soothe mode. “I’ll help you find them, but they would want you to get medical help if need be.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Then let’s prove that together. Okay?”

She scowled at him. “Fine.”

“Good decision. You’re doing well. Just take a few deep breaths.” Usually he’d call people by name when he was helping them through an ordeal. It was soothing and reassuring to them, but he didn’t believe Mary was her name. He stepped close enough to touch her. “I’m going to use the flashlight and look in your eyes.” He did as he’d said and realized her pupils were large, as if she was on a narcotic, and one pupil was more dilated than the other, which often meant a concussion. But each pupil responded to the light. He caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a suture. He turned the light to it. “You’ve recently been hurt, haven’t you?”

She nodded. “Surgery.”

Her hair had been shaved an inch wide, and the cut and sutures were clearly done by a surgeon. “Yes, I can see that. What medication are you taking?”

“Vico…something.”

“Vicodin. It’s powerful.” It could disorient and confuse her as well as make her overwhelmingly sleepy, dizzy, and have poor judgment. “Is it helping with the pain?”

She nodded. “You don’t need to call for help.”

He was sure she needed to be seen, but it wasn’t an emergency situation. “I agree.”

She relaxed at his words, and her knees almost buckled.

He cupped his hand under her elbow and steadied her. Whatever else was going on, she was terrified of an authority uncovering her secrets. “It’s just us.” He flashed the light at her feet. “You balanced.”

“Yeah.”

He studied her. She was about his age and absolutely beautiful.

Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Where are the mountains?”

An ache for her made his heart shiver. “The mountains are at home, I imagine. And my guess is someone is missing you. But we’ll figure all of that out. I promise.” He passed her the flashlight. “I’m going to get my metal cutters out of my tool belt. Are we good?”

“Yeah.”

“You hold the light on the spots while I cut, okay?”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

A surreal feeling seemed to float from the far reaches of the planet and settle around him, as though for a moment he’d connected with the real woman hiding underneath the odd behavior and confusion.

“Not a problem.” He snipped here and there, cutting out sections of barbwire and tossing them to the side. How did the Glynn Girls intend to get back into the garden with this much barbwire everywhere? And how much damage had they done to their plants in the process? “Do you remember how you got to St. Simons Island?”

“By plane.”

“Do you know when you arrived?”

“Last week, maybe Tuesday.”

“And today is Tuesday again, so seven days ago.”

“Yeah, my phone said about that before it drowned.”

“Your phone told you when you arrived?”

“I keep losing track of time, and the calendar had notes of when my plane arrived, and it highlights each new day.”

“It’s good that you’re clearheaded enough to know you were losing time and how to center yourself. That says good things about you.”

She wiped her forehead, looking a bit agitated, but she didn’t say anything.

“Problem?”

“I don’t need you to assure me I’m worthy of breathing air. Okay?”

Somehow standing under the silvery moon while inside a garden felt like déjà vu, but that made no sense.

“Okay.” He cut another section of barbwire. “Your head injury— Did that happen before or after you arrived?”

“Before.”

Things were already making a little sense, but he wouldn’t ask for her name again. It would make him sound as if he didn’t trust her, which he didn’t, but sounding that way put people on the defensive, and an EMT’s goal was to calm victims and win their trust.

“Okay, just a few more snips. I’m on your side. You know that. So could you do me a favor and come inside? I need to tend to the cuts and scrapes.” He also needed to get enough information to reach out to her family. “My mom has a good first aid kit.” He gestured toward his house.

The young woman’s eyes grew large, and she backed away as far as the remaining barb would allow. “One of the women who live here is your mom?”

Disappointment with his mom twisted inside him. He needed to talk to her about this, about how to treat people even in the face of fear. “No one’s home right now. It’ll be just you and me, but when Mom realizes what she’s done, she’ll be so very sorry. I’m a pretty good cook. I could fix you a plate of food, maybe some French toast, bacon, and a nice glass of cold milk. Do you like milk?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He removed the last barbwire.

She glanced at the house and then behind her, and he feared she would bolt.

“It’s safe. I promise. I won’t let anyone threaten, chase, or yell at you.”

She aimed the flashlight at his face. He clenched his eyes shut before trying to open them, hoping to look as nonthreatening as he knew how.

He gestured for them to start walking toward the house. “How did you get hurt?”

“I got them out. I called and ran and ran, and I got them out before the tree fell.”

He was sure that made sense inside her head, but he wasn’t able to put too much together from it. “A limb of a falling tree injured your head?”

She nodded.

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the keys to his mom’s house. He unlocked the door, flipped on the light inside the kitchen, and waited on the young woman to go inside first.

“Who did you get out?” He went to the medicine cabinet and got the first aid kit.

“My brothers.” She nodded her head, reminding him of a bobblehead doll. She looked as if she was caught in a conversation inside herself. “I did. I got them out. They’re all I have.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Everything. All of it. There is nothing else. And I…I got them out.”

He’d seen a lot in his years as an EMT. Knowing people and trauma as he did now, he wasn’t sure she had gotten them out.

“You can sit right here.” He pulled out a tall barstool.

She sat. “I was out for an early-morning run while they slept, and a storm came out of nowhere.” Her eyes reflected confusion. “I reached them. I did. I reached them.” She kept mumbling that same phrase while Gavin cleaned out the cuts on her arms, dabbed ointment on them, and covered them with Band-Aids.

Several car doors slammed.

The young woman stood, fear radiating from her eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. They’ll apologize to you, every one of them.” Gavin motioned for her to sit, but she backed farther away.

She pointed at his face. “No.” She glanced toward the garage door and then glanced at the side door, evidently plotting her escape. “Thank you.” She touched her arm near one of her puncture wounds. “I…I owe you.”

“You’re confused and hungry. We can help.”

“We did it.” His mom’s voice was clear, coming from the driveway and heading their way. “We won again.”

The young woman bolted out the side door. Gavin followed her.

She turned and held up her hand. “No!”

He stopped, although he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he thought a second encounter with the Glynn Girls would be more traumatizing than her spending another night on her own in the balmy night air. She disappeared into the darkness.

“Gavin?” His mom came out of the house. “What are you doing here?”

“You caught someone in your trap, and I had to cut her loose, literally. Really showed her who’s the boss, Mom, and even inflicted more pain on an already injured woman.”

Mom looked toward the area where the girl had disappeared. “I’m sorry, but she was stealing.”

“She was hungry.” He went back inside.

“Then why not knock on the door and tell us that?” Sue Beth asked.

“Yeah.” Mom followed behind him.

“More injuries?” Dell asked.

“She’s recently had a head injury and surgery. I saw the sutures.” He put the first-aid items back into the kit. “Someone somewhere is missing her. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can find out.” He closed the kit. “If you see her again, try being less fearful and mean.”

“We’re not scared.” Mom scowled and put her hands on her hips. “And we’re never, ever mean.”

“You used barbwire to booby-trap someone who was hungry, someone who left what seems to be her last three dollars on the counter at Sapphira’s to pay for the tomato, cheese, and two slices of bread she ate.”

“If she’s so innocent, why did she run?”

“Uh, last time you saw her, you ran at her and yelled at her. Did one of you actually brandish a gun?”

“Not a real gun,” Dell said. “It was that wooden one your dad made for you and painted black when you were little. I guess in the dark it looked real.”

“That aside, it’s illegal to set a booby trap. Maybe you should call the police on yourselves.”

“Illegal?” Sue Beth gasped. “Then what Luella said earlier tonight was true.”

He looked at Luella. She held up her hands. “When your mom screamed for help, I ran outside banging pots and yelling to scare off whoever had frightened her, but I wasn’t a part of setting the trap. We came back here to disassemble it.”

“She’s right,” Mom said. “When Luella told us it was illegal to set a trap, we left what we were doing and came here. Still, there should be some way to keep no-count people out of our garden.”

“No account?” Gavin could hardly believe his ears. Had she not heard him describe the young woman as traumatized and injured? His mom had struggled emotionally since his dad died, but in this moment he hardly recognized her. This wasn’t a matter of her gut saying a particular someone may not be trustworthy. This was her judging everyone who was in a bad situation as less worthy than herself. “Mom, are you proud of me being a fireman?”

“Very much so, but what’s your point?”

“If firemen thought the way you just expressed, we’d need proof of someone’s worthiness before being willing to put our lives on the line. It’s wise to be cautious, Mom, but you crossed over into thinking you’re better than someone in need.”

“It sounds like she’ll return. If not here, then to Sapphira’s place,” Luella said. “We’ll get some fresh produce and put it in baskets for her. Maybe clothing too?”

He nodded. “She seems to have only what’s on her back.”

“Oh, the poor thing.” Dell dug through her purse and pulled out her phone. “What size is she? I’ll buy her a couple of shirts and shorts and underwear.”

“That’s just asking for trouble,” Sue Beth said.

Dell rolled her eyes slightly. “Gavin, any idea what size?”

“No, but I’d guess she’s about five feet, five inches, a hundred and fifteen pounds.”

Dell typed the info into her phone. “We’ll go out immediately and get some things for her. Right, girls?”

“Yeah,” Julep said.

“I’m in too, I guess.” Sue Beth nodded. “Seems like I’ve been too busy sounding like my grandma did about her garden.”

Luella glanced at the clock. “The only clothing store I know of that’s still open is the boutique on Market Street, and it closes in thirty minutes. We better move it.” She held open the door, and the four of them hurried back to the car.

Gavin needed to get back to work. Before he left his mom’s house, a loud beeping sound echoed in the quiet. It dawned on him that it was a work truck of some type backing up. Hadn’t he heard that same sound about thirty minutes ago? He’d been so focused on the woman that he hadn’t realized he’d heard it until now. The buyer! Oh no, no, no. He stormed out of the house and across the backyard of his mom’s house to Sapphira’s property.

The dim light of the carport reflected against the flat blue tarp where shiplap used to be. He lifted the tarp. All the shiplap was gone. He went to the mailbox to see if the man had left the check there. He hadn’t. Gavin hurried inside, half hoping to find a check but expecting to find the wood was gone.

He was relieved to discover the stacks of shiplap inside the house were still there. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the buyer. He got a voice mail.

“Mr. Ashe, this is Gavin Burnside. The shiplap has been picked up. We need to discuss payment ASAP.” But Gavin knew that tracking the man down and actually getting paid wasn’t likely. He wouldn’t give up easily. There had to be people in the neighborhood with surveillance cameras.

He looked up, staring at the water-stained ceiling. “I needed this sale.”

“I…I got them out. I did.” The whispery voice echoed through the room.

Gavin eased across the floor, searching for “Mary.” He spotted her sitting on his mattress, holding her knees and rocking back and forth.

“I called. I reached them. I got them out in time.” She looked up at him. “I did.”

Great. Just what he wanted, absolutely no place to rest while he stayed here all night to keep watch over what was left of the shiplap. He sighed. “Yeah, I heard that same thing.” He motioned at the mattress. “Go on. Lie down. You need sleep.”

She raked her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face. “Why are you in my house?”

“What?”

Her eyelids opened slowly, looking heavy. “We’ve met.” She gestured at his tool belt. “You’re here to fix my roof, aren’t you?”

“Uh, maybe.” What was he supposed to say? “But why I’m here aside, one of us needs to sleep. I volunteer you.”

She drew a breath, shaking her head as if trying to ward off the sleepiness. A moment later her eyes searched his. “We need to talk about your work. You’re taking too much of my house apart. I don’t understand.”

“I’m sure you don’t. It might make more sense in the morning.” But only if her thinking cleared, and he doubted that one night’s sleep would make that much difference.

“I didn’t let that man take any shiplap from inside. He tried. Wanted the wood. I said no. You had no right to sell any shiplap.”

“You saw the man?”

“Yeah. Brusk, mean man.” She rubbed her arm near where the barbwire had cut her.

Gavin’s mind raced with hope that she could help. “Could you pick him out of a lineup?”

She stood quickly, stumbling before she grabbed Gavin’s shirt. “No police.” She balled her fists around his shirt and tugged. “Please, Gavin. Please.”

He needed to file a report, but he could keep her out of it. “I need to file a report.”

“No.” Her voice was husky. “I…I can’t make heads or tails of anything. But they’ll take me somewhere, and I’ll never find my brothers.”

He hesitated, and her eyes darted from one door to another, and as much as he just wanted to be left alone, he didn’t want her to run off, not like this. “They could help locate your brothers.”

“No. You don’t understand. If the authorities find out, they’ll take them from me. I’m just eighteen.”

What? He knew she’d passed eighteen about a decade ago. Still, if she was this confused, it made no sense to include anything about her being able to identify the man in the police report. He’d go to the station to file the report and leave her out of the report altogether.

He led her back to the mattress on the floor. “No police. I agree. Now get some rest.”

She sat on the mattress, her brows knitting slightly. “What did you do with my bed?”

He forced a smile, but he was more than ready to end all conversations. “Let’s stop talking now. You need rest.” And he needed time to think and gather his wits and pray about the stolen shiplap before he exploded with frustrations.

“You don’t want to answer my question about the bed?”

“Like I said, you need rest. Just do us both a favor and lie down and close your eyes.”

“You just want me to stop talking.”

She was astute, even when too confused to know where she was. He didn’t answer, and she lay down. A moment later her eyes were closed and her breathing was even.

What a royal mess. He needed a way to get his shiplap back or be paid for it. He needed more time to meet his financial obligations. What he didn’t need was a stranger thwarting what needed to be done while thinking this was her house.