Author: Christina Dodd
Category: Thriller
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/christina-dodd/page,10,485077-strangers_she_knows.html
“I’m not saying anything.” Olympia changed her attention to Max. “Men are notorious for thinking they can barge in and grab anything they want.”
Max’s expression didn’t change—which showed a lot of control on his part.
“I assure you, I sleep with Max and he does not get up in the middle of the night and disappear to eat cake.” Kellen’s tone was gentle; her expression was as forbidding as Olympia’s.
“Of course not. I meant that Dylan person. He has the keys to the house. He always smells as if he’s been smoking marijuana.” Olympia pronounced each syllable. “And the list of goods Mrs. Conkle compiles never matches what’s in the basket. I assume he’s been eating all the way up here. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a raw chicken gone someday.”
It was sort of funny, but not.
Rae was paying attention now, watching the scene with her brow furrowed.
Max said, “We’re not in any position to change locks out here.”
“Send to the mainland,” Olympia said.
“I told you when we came here we wouldn’t be making contact except in the matter of life and death.” Which was not strictly true, considering Max’s weekly radio call to get a report on Mara, but Olympia didn’t know that and Max sounded implacable. “I’ll look for a bicycle lock in the garage. If I find one, I’ll attach it to the pantry door. In the meantime, why don’t you secret anything attractive like cake or cookies in a cupboard known only to you?”
“Humph!” Olympia banged her way back into the kitchen.
Kellen looked at Max and mouthed, “What a bitch.”
He said, “It’s not easy getting someone on short notice to cook and do light cleaning on a deserted island with none of the usual amenities.”
Kellen noted Max hadn’t disagreed.
“What’s happening?” Rae asked.
“Someone ate the cake last night from the pantry,” Max told her.
Rae wrinkled her nose. “It had coconut. I didn’t like it. Hey, would you tell Olympia to stop playing her music at night? It creeps me out.”
“She does have retro taste in music,” Kellen said.
Max looked at them both.
“I went to Rae’s room to check up on her after the fireworks. I thought she might…” Kellen gave Max the look that meant, have nightmares. “Music was wafting up the stairs. Old songs from years ago.”
“Like Ruby would have played!” Rae said.
Kellen hadn’t thought about that. “That’s exactly right.”
Rae slid off her chair. “Can I be excused? Can Luna and I go for a bike ride?”
“May I?” Kellen corrected her, then thought, Geez, I’m channeling my aunt. “Yes, you may be excused. And yes, you and Luna may go for a bike ride. First brush your teeth. Put on your sunscreen. Don’t take Luna too far and when you turn back, check her pads for thorns. We don’t want her limping again.”
“I’ll be careful!” Rae tore out of the dining room.
Max and Kellen looked at each other.
“Getting away has been good for her,” Max marveled.
“I was thinking the same thing. She’s strong and I’d swear she’s grown at least an inch while we’ve been here.” Kellen took a breath. “Except…I wonder if Rae is sleepwalking.”
“What? Why?”
“Olympia wouldn’t lie about stuff disappearing from the kitchen.”
“Rae wouldn’t lie, either. Or steal!”
“She tells the occasional fib.” Kellen lifted one finger to stop his protest. “We all do. Not the point. We tore her from all that was familiar and dragged her halfway across the world. She’s still suffering from nightmares. With all those hormones raging through her, sleepwalking is a possibility.”
“And sleep-eating?”
“Yes. Unless it’s me and you’re not telling me.”
“You think you’re sleepwalking?”
“No, I think I still have a brain that’s healing and I could be blacking out. How would I know?” She said that as if she was calm about the possibility.
She wasn’t. Of all the conditions that her medical team had told her could happen, the possibility of blackouts terrified her most.
“I’d tell you. I’d take a chance with Mara and return you to the mainland for treatment.” Max scooted his chair close to hers and kissed her, soft and comforting, with a warm undercurrent of passion that tugged at Kellen’s senses. “Trust me. Ask me next time. Don’t wonder and worry.”
“I do trust you.” She kissed him, too, and looked into his eyes. “I love you.”
“I know,” he said smugly. “This wasn’t what I intended for our honeymoon. It’s a couple of years late. I planned a sailing trip on the Mediterranean. I thought the sun would shine all day and the moon would shine all night and we’d make love wherever and whenever we wanted.”
“This is a great honeymoon.” She had never meant anything so much.
“Except for the wherever and whenever part.”
She giggled. “I like making love as fast as we can while hushing each other so Rae doesn’t hear.”
He laughed, too. “Yes, it’s great. Just great.” He drew back. “I do wish the police would intercept Mara so we could get off this island. I thought they’d have her by now.”
“Do they have any idea…?”
“Where she is? Not the last time I talked to them. But I’m keeping contact to the bare minimum. I’m not taking any chances.”
Kellen nodded, then turned her head to listen. “What’s Luna barking about?”
Olympia walked in. “That dog is scratching at the back door. It’s going to ruin the paint!”
Max and Kellen got to their feet and hurried into the kitchen.
Kellen opened the door.
Luna jumped at her, barking, then ran outside and to the foot of the stairs. She turned and barked again. Come on!
Kellen leaped off the porch and sprinted across the yard.
Max raced ahead.
Luna outpaced them both.
They met Rae pushing her bike, dust-covered, limping and crying.
Luna circled her until Max and Kellen got there.
Max gently took the bike from her.
“Mommy…” Rae’s lip trembled and her eyes welled. “I hurt myself.”
“I see that, sweetheart.” Kellen slid her arm around Rae to support her. “Broken bones?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?” Max asked.
Kellen shot him a look. “She’d know.”
“But would she tell us?”
“Of course I would,” Rae snarled. “I’m not stupid!”
Max looked startled.
Kellen had been assessing her as they walked. “You’ve got contusions on your cheek and forehead.”
Rae held out her hands.
“On your palms.” Bits of dirt and rock were embedded in the skin. “I’ll bet that hurts.”
Rae nodded, and the tears started again.
“Your left knee and calf are ripped up and it looks like you scraped off a toenail. Nothing serious, but nothing fun. What were you doing?” She really expected to hear something about riding fast downhill.
“I just… I was trying to…”
“Trying to what?” Kellen asked.
“I built a jump.”
Max made a noise deep in his throat.
Kellen looked back at him in bewilderment.
Proudly, he tapped his chest and mouthed, My kid.
Kellen turned back to Rae. “You built a jump? For your bike?”
“Out of the boards in the garage.” Rae sounded less sniffy and more enthusiastic. “It was working great!” She sagged. “Then one of them broke.”
Max held the screen door for them. “Those boards are so old, hone
y, they’re rotten.”
“You’re telling me!”
Kellen helped Rae inside. “Let’s get you in a bathtub, clean you up and see what exactly we’re dealing with.”
Max slammed the screen and said, “I’ll see if I can find something to make a jump out of that won’t break.” He didn’t even notice the blistering glare Kellen gave his retreating back.
15
“You know, Owen, if you’d been smart, you might have entertained doubts as to why I wanted to learn how to handle your yacht.” Mara Philippi glanced at Owen Kenoyer, seated at the back of the…at the stern, strapped in and trolling for some game fish to mount and stick on his wall. “But you thought it was cute that a beautiful, saucy woman wanted to handle such a massive vessel. I made you feel indulgent.” She shot a grin at the back of his head. “Like most men, you’re easily led with the stroke of a finger. So to speak.” She checked the rudder to make sure it was cranked to the left, allowing the yacht to make lazy circles in the water. “Probably all this knowledge I’ve gained will be useless in the future, unless I decide to buy my own yacht, and if I do, I promise never, ever to take on a young lover I pick up in church. When your wife finds out, what will she say?”
Predictably, Owen didn’t answer.
“Probably nothing, or maybe she’ll want to thank me. I imagine she’s used to your philandering, and with the money you’ve got and the nasty little fetishes you enjoy, she’ll be relieved to have you out of her hair.” Mara laughed. “So to speak again… Have you noticed when you talk about sex, almost everything you say becomes a metaphor, and humorous? Stay there, I’ve got to go below to open the bilge pumps.” When she returned, she leaned on the rail and gazed at the faint smudge on the horizon that was Isla Paraíso. “It’s sort of a shame to scuttle this vessel when I was really getting the hang of it. I could get used to living like this.” She looked around affectionately.
This beast must have cost two hundred thousand or more.
She focused on Isla Paraíso again. Her humor faded, and she began to breathe deeply, like a woman on the verge of orgasm. “I hate to leave you here, but I have an appointment with Kellen Adams and her family. Her husband, Maximilian. Her darling little girl, Rae. I think in the past few years, while I was in prison, Kellen has grown quite fond of them. The best part is—they’re afraid that I’m coming. They think they’ve outsmarted me…and they did for a while. I followed them to Italy before I realized I was on a wild goose chase. That I was being followed. That was a mistake. The woman they hired was tough, but not as tough as me. Burns are such painful wounds, the little pieces of agony that make up successful torture. When I was done with her, she told me where they had gone. I removed her hands—my signature, as you now have discovered—and left her to die.” She swallowed in chagrin. “I should have known. I should have known. I went to Morocco and almost got killed before I found out she hadn’t known where they were!”
She thought she heard a whisper on the wind, whipped her head around and glared at Owen. “I can hear you laughing. Don’t think I can’t. Don’t think this doesn’t add another hour to Kellen’s torment. I’ll see to it myself.”
The yacht was riding low in the water now, starting to flounder.
She loaded her supplies and weapons into the dinghy. “I wondered—where will they end up? Where will they think themselves safe? Somewhere in the States, of course, on one of the Di Luca family properties. Someplace safe. That narrowed it down considerably. They weren’t going to a busy winery where every guest is welcome. No. It had to be isolated, easily guarded. I admit, Isla Paraíso wasn’t my first guess. I didn’t even know they owned an island off California. I mean, who does that? The family’s got money, I’ll say. After I got it narrowed down, all I had to do was check their spreadsheets.” She turned to face Owen. “Did I mention I spent the time in prison learning how to read? I demanded they teach me to overcome my dyslexia, and they had to. A judge made them, and I didn’t even have to sleep with her. I was condemned to life in prison, and the government still had to give me a chance for employment. God, these laws! You know what I mean. I hear you carrying on about exactly this. So wasteful!”
The yacht shuddered and tilted toward the port bow.
She stumbled and clutched the railing. “I’d better be careful. I’d hate to end up floating on a door in freezing water.”
Again he didn’t reply.
“It’s a scene from Titanic, Owen. You don’t know a thing about historical pop cinema, do you?”
Nothing.
“I watched a lot of movies in prison. I’m a film expert now. An expert in a lot of things… Anyway, once I had the rudiments of reading, I researched the really good parts of computer hacking. It was all part of my evil plan.” She performed a good approximation of Maleficent’s laugh then, pleased with herself, she said, “I admit, I’m not good enough to do a lot of harm, but I am good at breaking and entering without leaving a trace, and hacking a specific computer, and reading a spreadsheet and seeing a single glitch in the shipments to Isla Paraíso. That was it. Once I checked the contents, I knew. A few extra pounds of meat, a few extra vegetables, enough miscellaneous cooking supplies…and three bicycles.” Mara put her hand over her pounding heart. “Three bicycles. Whatever could that mean?”
Owen still didn’t answer.
Mara glanced over. “Honey, look at that. You’ve got your fish.” She pointed. “It’s on your line. It’s leaping. A giant swordfish. How cool is that?” She pulled the long-bladed knife from her belt and used it to cut the line. She turned to Owen. “Sorry. You probably didn’t want to see me use that knife again. It slipped so easily between your ribs.”
Owen sat, his head bowed over his bloody chest, his hands severed and resting in his lap.
“The yacht’s really sinking now. You don’t mind me leaving you here, do you?” Mara was amusing herself now, reciting all her cleverness. “I’m headed for Isla Paraíso. It is isolated, all right, it’s just not easily guarded. All that coastline! What were they thinking?” She tapped her lips, swollen from Owen’s bites. “Probably that they didn’t want to alarm the child. If that was the idea, good plan. Better for me if she hasn’t been warned.” She watched the Pacific Ocean swells swamp the yacht. “This looks like a deep spot to sink a vessel. I doubt if anyone ever recovers it, Owen, or you. So sleep in peace. Sorry to take you by surprise like that. But at least your last moments were strapped in a fishing stool getting your rocks off and never suspecting you’d been a fool. So you died happy.” Mara lowered the dinghy into the water and climbed over the rail and aboard. She started the engine and when it was running smoothly, she pulled away. “Goodbye, Owen. Goodbye!” Mara directed the dinghy toward the island and pushed the engine to its full speed.
She smiled.
She had been looking forward to this for a long, long time.
16
With scabs forming on her knees and her hands wrapped in gauze, Rae was miserable. She didn’t want to read. She didn’t want to watch movies. She wanted to mope, and she was doing a fine job of it until Kellen suggested they read more of Ruby’s diary.
Rae brightened. “Yes! Let’s go to the attic. I love Ruby. I feel closer to her there. She’s so smart and brave and her father is so mean!”
Today, the commander of the island fortifications came to the house. Father invited him to dinner; I think he had illusions that General Tempe would make me a good suitor. At the table, Mother asked him if he was married. He said he had been. His wife had left him to become an actress and their three young sons lived with her parents. He looked at me sideways as if he knew what Father wanted. I asked him if he would like more candied oranges. We grow oranges in a protected orchard and they are very tasty. I also asked about a party for his men. I said I thought the boys of my age would appreciate a chance to drink, dance, talk about their homes and families. The general looked at me differently th
en. He understood me very well.
When he had gone, Father shouted at me. He said these days, no man of power would have a half-Jap girl, regardless of her father’s influence, and I had better learn to beg for scraps. I told him I didn’t want an old man like him who cared only for power and nothing for love, a man who everyone loathed.
He hit me. He knocked me down. Mother cried out. Hermione dragged me away before he could trample me under his feet.
I didn’t know he cared whether I insulted him, told him that he is an ogre and that we all hate him. But apparently he does. So I succeeded in some small way to hurt that giant cruel ego, and I’m glad. I’m glad, and I wear my bruises proudly.
Father was gone by morning.
We’ll have our party.
His name is Patrick. Patrick Sullivan. And he’s white, he’s white, he’s white! Not Father’s kind of white, nor even Beaufort’s. Poor white. Irish Catholic white. Father would call him trash. He’s 19. His parents immigrated from Ireland. He graduated from high school, the first in his family. The day after, he left home and traveled hundreds of miles on a bus to go to trade school to learn to be a printer. He joined the Navy the day after Pearl Harbor, and the Navy sent him to school to learn mechanics. Now he’s here because he can fix machinery and he can write reports. See, he really wanted to be a reporter, but he spells funny. He puts the letters backward. He admitted he writes stories, too, but he was ashamed to show me until I promised not to laugh. As if I would.
The story was wonderful! Yes, he needs help with his grammar and spelling, but it was about preparing for war: unpolished, rough, full of the contrasts of terror and courage, homesickness and purpose. He doesn’t know it, but I typed up the story, corrected the errors, and sent it to the Armed Forces Magazine.
Now I wait to see if they accept it, and while I wait, I see him every day.
Mother knows. She says nothing.
Hermione knows. She packs us a lunch.
Dear diary, I’m in love.
Patrick sold his story! I told him and he didn’t believe it until I showed him the acceptance letter and the check. Then he still didn’t believe it. He tried to say my father had done it as a favor. I laughed until I cried. Then Patrick asked about my father, and I told everything. His father is hard-working, loud-laughing, loving, so Patrick didn’t believe me at first. Then he realized I was telling the truth, and he held me while I cried. I didn’t even realize I wanted to cry. It was very freeing, like a burden had been lifted I didn’t know I carried. We were out in the redwood grove; there we could be private. He kissed me, so sweet and gentle. He told me he loves me, and I admitted I love him, too. I went home, my feet barely touching the earth. I’ve done a good thing. I’ve given a man confidence in himself. He returned the favor by offering his love. I don’t think I’ve truly ever been loved before.