CHAPTER FOUR
The first sign of trouble was the darkness. When we finally reached the library in the brutal, pelting rain, the lights were off and the entire parking lot was empty. Had we been away that long? Or had the power gone out and they’d closed up early? A sinking feeling made my chest tight.
Behind me, I heard Devon curse and he darted forward to pull at the library door. Of course it didn’t budge. He swirled to face me and his eyes were huge. “You!” he said, shouting over the rain and wind. “This is all your fault. We’re locked out!”
“Me? I’m not the one who jumped out the window.”
“I never would have left the library if you hadn’t goaded me into it.”
“You could have said no. It was just a stupid dare.”
“Well, you were the one who—”
We were interrupted by a gust of wind so strong, it blew the library’s metal trash cans over with a loud crash. They rolled across the lawn and banged into a lamppost.
“Come on,” I said. “We better walk to my friend Ana’s place before the storm gets any worse.”
Ana’s apartment wasn’t far, but my feet hurt from sliding around in Kitty’s too-big flats. Blisters were forming on my heels. We trudged past the Clam Shack, the town hall, and the post office before reaching the small houses at the end of Main Street.
I wasn’t too worried yet; I could always count on Ana.
Except, I didn’t see Ana’s truck in the driveway. She and Mrs. Wallace shared a duplex. I banged on Ana’s door as Devon hunched beside me. No answer. Even though it was August, the temperature had dropped and I couldn’t stop shivering.
I knocked again, louder this time. Still no response.
“She’s probably next door with Mrs. Wallace,” I offered, but even as I said those words, I knew that if Ana were there, I’d see her truck.
Devon was already knocking, yelling, “Hello!” and “Open up!” But Mrs. Wallace was almost completely deaf, and if Ana were there, she’d have answered.
“Now what?” Devon asked. “Try another house?”
The downpour showed no sign of easing up. I chewed my bottom lip, shading my face. “We could try some of the other homes on Main Street, but I know the Jackmans evacuated to their daughter’s place inland and the Reeds have gone for the season. I’m sure the Adamses are around—they own the Clam Shack—but they live nearly a mile away.”
“Have I mentioned this is all your fault?” Devon asked.
I ignored him. “Our best bet is to go straight to the police station. We’ll explain everything and Josh can bring us home in his truck. Simple.”
Then why was my pulse racing? I had to take three deep breaths to get my breathing back to normal.
“There’s nothing simple about being stranded outside in the middle of nowhere during a hurricane,” Devon snapped.
“We aren’t in the middle of nowhere. We’re in Whickett Harbor. A thriving, mini-metropolis.”
My words might have been more convincing if every building in sight hadn’t been boarded up or abandoned. There weren’t even any vehicles on the road.
My shoulders slumped. “Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later we reached the police station, but the door was locked. The rain beat relentlessly against my skin and the wind made a noise that could have come from a slasher movie. A sign was posted in the window that read: ALL UNITS OUT ON CALL.
“All units out on call?” Devon said. “But there’s a hurricane! What if someone needs them?”
I glared. “That’s why they’re out on call, Einstein.” I didn’t mention that we only had two units—Officer Josh Tate and Officer Deb Cote.
“Now what?” Devon squeaked. “We’re going to die out here! We’re going to get brain damage from a falling tree limb or we’ll be washed away in a flash flood or die of hypothermia.”
He said something in Welsh that was either a prayer or a curse. I took him by the shoulders and shook him hard.
“Get ahold of yourself. We’re not going to die. We’re going to . . .” What the heck were we going to do? “We’ll go back to the library and wait for someone to find us. We’ll climb back in the same way we went out.”
“You want to climb a tree in this wind? Are you insane?!” Devon waved to indicate the pine trees on both sides of the road that were bent low, their branches stretched taut against the gale. Suddenly, with a spine-tingling crack, one of the tallest pines split down the middle, crashing across the street. The top branches landed within spitting distance from us, and I screamed so loud, my throat got sore. I’d never been so scared in my entire life.
“Run!” I hollered.
We sprinted toward the library, my blisters burning, only to find that someone had shut the attic window and propped a board against the inside. I could see the wood behind the glass.
“I’m too young to die,” Devon moaned.
I shook my head. There was only one thing to do. I picked up the largest rock I could find, feeling its cold weight in my hand, and walked straight up to the front door.
I, Jane Brannen, was about to become a vandal of the very worst sort. A library vandal. But this was a matter of life and death. I hurled the rock through the bottom square of glass and squeezed my eyes shut as the pane shattered.
I heard Devon’s startled yelp beside me. “You’re out of your mind. I’ve been stranded with a crazy girl. You’re probably related to Stephen King, aren’t you?”
“Be. Quiet. Give me your sweater vest.”
“Why?” Devon’s eyes looked even huger than before, but he peeled it off his soaking body and handed it to me. I wrapped it around my hand and forearm as I reached through the jagged glass to unlock the door.
Finally, the lock snicked open and I freed my arm. Devon and I dashed inside, then pulled the door closed behind us. We stood in place, dripping on the floor mat, breathing hard.
“You’re welcome,” I said at last.
“We could still die of hypothermia,” Devon said.
I threw my hands up. Impossible boy!
“I’m going to look down here for something dry to change into. You can look through the costumes in the attic.” I debated withholding my additional knowledge, but decided to share if only to stop his whining. “And there are cookies and grape juice in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure no one ever died while eating cookies and drinking grape juice.”
This time Devon said nothing. I found a flashlight in the kitchen and gave it to him, then watched as his beam of light bounced up the attic steps. I stumbled back into the dark kitchen and sorted through the clothes hanging behind the door. There were two coats, a leftover winter scarf no one had ever claimed, and as I’d expected, one of Granny V’s dresses that she kept there in case of emergency spills and splatters. Every inch of me was sopping wet and freezing cold. I needed to get dry.
I took the dress into the library bathroom and stripped off all my wet clothes. There was one crocheted hand towel next to the sink, and I used it to dry off, then pulled the dress over my head. Granny V is a large woman with a huge bosom, so the dress sagged straight down to my toes. I looked like I was wearing a floor-length purple bag.
My one saving grace was that when I stepped out of the bathroom, Devon came down the stairs from the attic dressed as a scarecrow, straight down to the faux straw collar. I couldn’t help it. I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Oh, and you think you look good?” Devon snapped. “You look like a giant purple marshmallow after it’s been held over the fire and started to melt.”
“Whatever.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “Let’s get something to eat.”
Turns out there was more than just cookies and grape juice in the library. All of the food from the cocktail party had been left on the table. My guess was that when the power went out, they’d decided to leave everything, close up early, and deal with the leftovers the next day. That was excellent for me, because I was starving. My stomach growled loudly.
I grabbed a handful of mini hot dogs wrapped in crescent rolls and started eating. When those were gone, I helped myself to a tiny quiche.
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, sampling the quiche. Then I spit it into a napkin. “Bleh. Spinach.”
Devon’s mouth hung open. “You have the manners of a barbarian.”
“Oh? And I ought to be polite for your sake?” Locking eyes with him, I grabbed a canister of fake cheese spray and squirted some into my open mouth.
Devon’s face was a mask of horror.
“It’s good,” I said, smacking my lips. “You should try it before you judge.”
“Never.”
“Just try it.” I grabbed his hand and aimed the nozzle so I could squirt the cheese onto his finger, but he jerked back and the bright yellow goop ended up all over the front of his scarecrow costume. Devon didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed the nacho-flavored canister and squirted it into my hair.
“Jerk!” I hollered. I grabbed a handful of Jell-O mold and lobbed it at him.
“Brat!”
A fistful of crumbled Ritz crackers rained over my head.
“Animal!”
I stuck a mini meatball down Devon’s collar.
“Spanner!”
He upended an entire bowl of potato chips down Granny V’s dress.
“Snob!”
I grabbed a deviled egg and smooshed it into his face.
We might have gone through the entire table of finger foods if the library door hadn’t flung open at that exact moment. A flashlight beam illuminated the scene, and I froze with my hand in midair, still clutching a squishy white egg cup.
“Jane Sylvia Brannen!”
You know you’re in trouble when you hear your full name. But you’re beyond trouble when you hear your full name growled by the town sheriff. Usually, Joshua Tate was a cuddly bear who picked me up and twirled me in circles, but not today.
“What on earth are you kids doing? Half the town is out looking for you! We’ve all been worried sick, and you’re in here—” He gestured to the mess we’d made.
“I can explain,” I started, but Josh cut me off. He brought his walkie-talkie to his mouth, pressed the button, and spoke into it. “Emmett? Ana? I found ’em. They’re at the library.”
My father’s voice crackled over the speaker. “But we already checked the library.”
“Ayuh. Must have doubled back.”
“Ten-four,” Ana said. “I’ll tell the others.” She paused. “Emmett, I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
Ana always had my back, no matter what, but looking around at the mess we’d made, I couldn’t say her faith in me was justified this time. Beside me, Devon shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
“I better return to Mrs. Wallace. She’ll be clenched tighter than a clam at high tide,” Ana’s voice said over the speaker.
“I’ll wait here until you arrive, Emmett,” Josh said, “and then I’ll take the boy home. His family is frantic. It was all I could do to keep his mom from driving around in her sports car to look for him.”
“Ten-four.”
Josh hooked the walkie-talkie back on his belt and opened his mouth to say something, but Devon beat him to it.
“Was my mother really going to look for me?”
“Of course,” Josh said. “I told her she’d get herself killed driving around in that silly little car in a hurricane, but she still fought me.” He took a deep breath. “Now, what in tarnation happened?”
Both Devon and I started talking at once, until finally Josh shook his head. “All right, all right. I’ve heard enough. Why don’t you two clean up the mess you’ve made while we’re waiting for Emmett?”
Devon wiped deviled egg off his cheek. I finger-combed crackers out of my hair. Then we both set to work picking up food and depositing it in the trash can. Josh watched us for a moment, and then he cleared his throat.
“You should know, Jane, that your mother called in the midst of all this. Right before the phone lines went down. She wanted to check up on you and make sure you were safe, but we got cut off right after I told her that you were missing, and now there’s no way to reach her until service is restored.”
My stomach plummeted. Without saying as much, Josh was letting me know that I’d done something far worse than mess up the library carpet. He’d been Dad’s best friend since their school days, and he was my godfather, so he knew that for the past few months, Mom had been making noises about me needing to expand my horizons. Lately every conversation with her was laced with things like “You need to see the world, Jane,” and “You’re getting older now. Don’t you think it’s time you got out of Whickett Harbor?”
Mom said “Whickett Harbor” like it was a curse word.
I pursed my lips and wouldn’t let myself cry. Not in front of Devon. We both worked steadily, throwing away the left-over food and getting down on our knees to wash the carpet with wet paper towels. Neither of us made eye contact and Josh didn’t say another word.
I was so busy cleaning, I didn’t hear when my father arrived. Before I knew it, I was in his arms, scooped off the floor, and he was squeezing me so tight, I couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Dad said.
Josh came over and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll take the boy home now that you’re here.”
Dad nodded. He looked me up and down, frowning. “I don’t even want to know what you’re wearing. Where’s Kitty’s dress?”
“In the kitchen. I’ll get it,” I said.
When I came back, dress in hand, Dad said, “Let’s go. You can explain yourself later.”
Devon retrieved his wet clothes, then followed Josh out of the library. The wind was so strong, it nearly blew them sideways. Josh motioned for us to follow, and when we did, I was hit by a gust that would have knocked me off my feet if Dad didn’t have hold of my arm. The four of us pressed against the gale force winds to reach the two trucks in the parking lot.
Even if I’d wanted to say goodbye, I couldn’t have. The wind roared like a banshee. Dad pushed me into the cab and slammed the door shut. I watched as Josh’s headlights lit up the deep gray sheets of rain and his truck pulled out and drove away.
I wondered if I’d ever see that annoying boy again.
Dad hadn’t said a word, but I recognized the hard set of his jaw. He backed his truck out and kept his eyes fixed on the road as he drove, swerving as branches blew in our path and clutching the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles turned white. I knew that underneath his concentration, something else was lurking.
My father was afraid, and it wasn’t entirely because of the storm.