But first, we stand and face that huge hearth.
Four in a row. Like ducks in a shooting gallery. At least, that’s how I feel.
Raju goes first.
Based on his mathematical mapping, he’s found “anomalies” in the sand. “Many of these anomalies occur in the same location where the non-native dune grass is dying.”
He keeps going, rattling off more facts. Only Raju makes it all sound like those horrible SAT word problems: The ocean waves measure twenty-two inches from trough to crest. They wash toward a beach at seven point three miles per hour during high tide. How many high tides does it take to affect the growth pattern of non-native sea grass?
My eyes glaze over.
“So you see a definite connection,” Brogan says to Raju, “between topographic anomalies and the dying grass?”
“Yes. Definite connection.”
“Excellent work, Raju. How are you and Tex getting along as partners?”
“Very well.” Raju glances at Tex. “Don’t you think?”
“Stellar,” Tex drawls.
“Glad to hear it,” Brogan says. “How about Lanette and Raleigh?”
Lanette goes for it, relaying the news about her stinking sauerkrautery. She’s polished and organized. Brogan begins pacing, his movements growing more excited. I lift my gaze to that old map above the fireplace. That coastline was drawn when explorers set sail from places like Spain and England and Portugal, even though people feared the world was flat. Courage. They followed a hunch. With the courage to die for it.
“Good work,” Brogan tells Lanette. “You’ve written down all this information?”
“Naturally.”
“Naturally.” He chuckles. “Type up your findings and get them to my secretary.”
“Your secretary?”
“Luis!” Brogan calls out.
Luis appears at the edge of the living room. He’s wearing another Hawaiian shirt and his dark hands grip what looks like a travel book, spine folded back to reveal color photographs of some exotic place I’ll never see in person.
“Luis, make sure Lanette’s notes reach the state biologist. I want him to take a look at her research. It’s excellent.”
Luis bows. Exits the room.
But there’s a shift in the atmosphere. Lanette just leaped into first place. I can feel it. Brogan seems to sense the change in the pecking order.
“With or without winning this contest, Lanette’s discovered something significant. That’s crucial. She worked diligently, with perseverance.” He looks at her with those intense blue eyes. “I heard you even interviewed Captain Wright.”
Lanette nods, pushes at her little wire glasses.
“Quite a character. Isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“But he knows more about Ocracoke than anyone else. Good choice for an interview.”
Oh, great. Lanette gets another compliment.
Right before the billionaire turns to me.
“Raleigh.” His blue eyes focus on me. “Are you investigating the brotozoan with Lanette or pursuing something on your own?”
Silence.
Very bad silence.
“Uh, something of my own.”
“Let’s hear it.”
I glance at Lanette. Her dark eyes are without suspicion or competition or anything cruel. She truly believes my work has merit.
“I talked to the geologist at your Parks building.”
Brogan raises an eyebrow. “My Parks building?”
“I mean, you helped fund the building . . . according to the geologist who works there.”
“Who’s that?”
“Dorothee Fulbright.”
“Red hair?”
I nod.
His face shows no emotion. “Let’s focus on your findings.”
My skin flushes. Part of me—the bad part—was hoping he’d offer praise. Like what Lanette got for interviewing Ahab. I clear my throat. “Ocracoke’s sand contains heavy concentrations of corundum.”
“But not the corundum that creates rubies and sapphires.”
My face burns. He knows which gemstones come from corundum? Great. Tell him something he doesn’t know.
Sweat prickles my back. “Corundum’s mined near Franklin, North Carolina. Most of what we see on beaches is quartz. Which is a relatively light mineral, in terms of weight and density. So it floats to the top of the sand. But corundum is densely-formed and heavy. I found no corundum in the surface sand, only about eighteen inches below. Where it formed a nearly black layer about two inches thick.”
Tex raises his hand. “Hang on. You’re saying dark sand’s heavier than beige sand?”
“On this beach, yes.”
“Cool. I always thought the sand got darker just because it was wet. And no sun bleaching it. But you’re saying it’s completely different sand?”
“Not always completely different. But in most cases, the heavier grains will sift down to the lower layers. The sifting is a constant process, partly guided by gravity.”
Talking to Tex, something inside my chest releases. I take in a breath. “But I found something odd. Nearby, there was more dark sand, but it was totally different in terms of mineralogy. That’s unusual.”
Brogan steps forward.
But Tex doesn’t give him a chance to speak. “What kinda different?” he asks.
Brogan stands there, watching us. Waiting. So I keep going.
“The second dark sand was full of beryllium.” I look at Brogan. His laser gaze is burning into me. Please don’t let him already know this. “Beryllium is sometimes gemstone quality. Emeralds, for instance. But these grains weren’t that high quality.” I glance over at Tex. He looks back, interested in what I’m saying. “I found this sand on the east side of the island. Near the lighthouse. But the local geologist said beryllium sand is only found on the western side of the island. So that’s odd, and, well . . .”
I stop, glance at Brogan. His face reveals nothing. I hesitate, unsure if I should continue.
But he says, “Keep going, Raleigh.”
So I take a deep breath.
“This sand was what Cady was buried in.”
Brogan frowns. Tilts his head. My face sends up another flush so powerful the blood pounds in my ears.
“I—I just thought it would be helpful. If I looked at that sand.”
“Helpful.” Brogan lowers his chin, the laser eyes trained on me. “Helpful, to whom?”
“Well, the police, for one.”
“So you told the police about this sand?”
“No . . .”
“No.” He paces. “Perhaps you think the police can’t take care of this matter on their own. You’re entitled to your opinion.” He stops and glares at me. “But, Raleigh, by taking that sand, you tampered with evidence.”
My hands go cold.
“Evidence that’s part of a criminal investigation.”
I can’t feel my arms.
“I don’t expect you to know this at your age, but tampering with evidence is a crime. A very serious crime.”
Code of Virginia, Title 18.2. Really bad punishment. And North Carolina’s punishment won’t be any nicer. At my side, my arms hang numb, dead. Brogan waits for me to say something. But it’s time for me to shut up and stop incriminating myself.
“Raleigh.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have any information that pertains to this competition? To the dying dune grass.”
I glance at Lanette. “Not really.”
Brogan freezes the room with an unnatural silence.
“But it’s still fascinating,” Tex says.
Brogan pivots, slow and deliberate, and lets his unnatural silence continue.
“I think she should keep looking,” Tex looks at me instead of Brogan. “You never know. She might figure out something. And the cops here should appreciate the help.”
Lanette raises her hand.
Brogan’s voice booms out. “Lanette?”
“Raju said ‘non-native.’ ”
Brogan leans forward. “Non-native—what?”
“The dune grass. Raju described it as non-native. Does he mean that this dune grass is not indigenous to Ocracoke?”
Brogan turns to Raju, eyebrows raised in delight.
And Raju beams right back, the glory boy. “That is correct. This particular dune grass was brought in by the conservation corps during the Great Depression. Wind storms were eroding the beaches. The grass was planted to hold the sand and grow dunes.” Raju turns to me. His eyes are black ice. “She’s your partner, you didn’t tell her?”
Everyone looks at me.
My face is on fire. “Tell her what?”
“That the grass is non-native.”
“How would I know that?”
“The librarian said you took the best reference manual on the flora of Ocracoke.” His dark eyes glisten with delight. “But you didn’t tell your partner?”
The silence.
It has a sound.
The sound of a noose tightening around my neck.
Tex says, “Raleigh didn’t get a chance to read it.” He turns to Brogan. “I found it on a table at Blackbeard’s Inn. And took it.” He turns toward me. “Sorry, I didn’t know who it belonged to. I’ll give it back.”
I stand there, unable to speak or even nod my head.
“Alright,” Brogan says. “This has been a fascinating meeting. I’m heartened to hear about your efforts. Most of them. If you’re not getting work done, change that. You only have another twenty-four hours.”
Brogan says something else. About how hard work is the essence of success. About the need to conduct ourselves the right way on this island. His tone sounds firm, just this side of harsh. And I should be listening. But my focus drifts.
I pretend to look out the big glass window that faces the ocean. Fishing poles and nets are on the deck that stick out like ship’s prow. But when I shift my gaze, I see Tex, staring right at me. I want to look away. But there’s an expression in his eyes. It holds me. And then a smile slides across his lips and opens his face, and suddenly all the astute words of Bill Brogan, his praise for Raju and Lanette, all of it fades into the background.
Inside my ribcage, a feeling grows. And grows. It feel wide, so wide and without boundaries that it seems like the ocean could fit inside my heart.
I look away.
“You’re all excused,” Brogan says. “Except for you, Tex. I’d like to have a word with you. Alone.”