“And you think she’s going to give us a happy ending?”
I smirked at the unintended double entendre. “I think the overblown sex fests in the mud pits are on purpose. I think the island stuff is on purpose. She knew I’d remember.”
“I’m not going to give her the chance to separate us.” Landon was firm as he tightened his grip on my hand, squeezing so hard he almost cut off my circulation. “It’s not going to happen.”
I opened my mouth, an attempt to soothe on the tip of my tongue. As if on cue, a scream ripped through the air and drew everyone’s attention to the waterfall in the distance. It wasn’t overly high, but given the flat surfaces around us it looked huge on the horizon.
I gasped when I realized there was a figure falling from a high cliff into the churning waters below. “Holy … .”
“Did you see that?” Thistle stepped up beside me. “Someone fell over that waterfall. I mean … they freaking fell! That can’t be right. That never happened on a soap, did it?”
“I think it’s happened a few times.” I turned back to Landon to suggest we see if we could find the person who fell, but the spot where he stood moments before was empty. I turned in every direction, even though I knew it was a waste of time, and then faced Clove and Thistle. They were equally resigned, because Sam and Marcus were missing, too.
“I knew this would happen,” I groused. “I knew she’d do this.”
“She warned us,” Thistle noted. “You were right about that. The island was a warning.”
“And what about the ducks?” I quirked an eyebrow as I turned back to Mrs. Gunderson and plucked one of the plastic floaters from the water. I flipped it over and read the message out loud. “You’ll find him when your heart is ready to give up the search.”
“That’s a little on the nose, huh?” Thistle made a disgusted face. “I’m seriously going to strangle that old lady.”
“I’m seriously going to help you.”
If you were coming back from the dead, is the first thing you’d want to do is attend a wedding? I mean … I get it. If you’re married to one of the people involved in the second wedding, you probably want to stop them from being a bigamist. If they moved on that quickly, though, I would totally want them arrested.
– Twila’s take on marital bliss
Twelve
“Queenie!”
One of the guys in a mud pit – one who had another woman wrapped around him only seconds before – hopped to his feet and screamed as he looked toward the waterfall. I was so lost in thought I didn’t think to look away before my retinas risked being seared by the power of his nakedness. Thankfully the dude wore a Speedo, so I didn’t see anything that might scar me for life.
“Who is Queenie?” Clove asked.
“My wife.” The man was beside himself. “Didn’t you just see her? She went over the waterfall.”
“But … how do you know it was your wife?” I was honestly interested in his answer. “That waterfall is way off in the distance. All we saw was what looked like a woman going over the falls. How can you possibly know it was your wife?”
“Hutch, aren’t you coming back?” The woman the man left behind in the mud pit fixed him with a pointed and pouty look. “I’m getting cold without you to keep me warm.”
“Hutch?” Thistle made a face. “Why would someone name their son Hutch?”
“I don’t know, Thistle.” I fought the urge to smirk. “The mysteries of naming children are lost on me. Of course, your name is Thistle … something you keep forgetting.”
“Oh, like Bay is better.”
“Bay is much better than Thistle.”
“Barely.”
“Hey, we need to focus on the woman who went over the falls and the fact that we’ve lost our boyfriends,” Clove interjected. “Besides, we all know that Bay and Thistle are stupid names. Clove, on the other hand, is a brilliant name.”
“Don’t make me force you into that mud pit,” I threatened. “I’ll bet that mud is really gross after they’ve been fornicating in it for hours. I’ll still make you eat it.”
Clove made an exaggerated face. “That is the grossest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“And I stand by it.”
“Will you people stop talking about inane things like names?” Hutch exploded. “My wife just fell over the falls.”
“What do you care?” Thistle challenged. “You were making time with the hot chick in the mud pit. You obviously didn’t care about your wife.”
“I’m dead.”
“Are you really?” I wasn’t convinced. “You look fine to me. You’re well enough to get frisky in a mud pit. I’ve never seen a ghost do that before.”
“It’s therapeutic,” Hutch snapped. “It opens up your pores and … other stuff.”
“Oh, yeah? What were you trying to open up with that chick crawling all over you?”
“I know!” Clove shot her hand in the air. “I know what he was trying to open with her.”
“We’re not playing a game of perverted Mad Libs here,” Thistle supplied. “We all know what he was trying to open up with the chick.”
“Hey, I don’t need this abuse.” The mud-covered woman scorched Thistle with a dark look. “I’m a good person.”
“Yeah, we can tell.” Thistle rolled her eyes. “Why are we still here? We should be moving to another location to find the guys. That’s our primary concern. I say we head back toward that area behind the games and look for an exit.”
“I don’t think we can move to another location,” I admitted. “I don’t think we’re finished here.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “Because a woman fell over the falls right before the guys disappeared. I’ll bet they’re out there searching for her. Aunt Tillie won’t keep us apart for long – just long enough to torture us. She’ll want us together for whatever else she has planned.”
“But how do you know that we’re going to meet back up here?” Clove challenged. “What if we’re supposed to go to another location?”
“We would have a clue pointing us in that direction if that were the case. She’s been very clear with the clues. We’re not meant to leave just yet.”
“So where do we go?”
I pointed toward the falls. “That way … and I think we’re supposed to take this dude with us.” I turned to find Hutch making out with the woman from the mud pit. She was halfway out and perched on her elbows to make it easier for her to touch tongues with what could only be described as the grossest guy in the universe.
“Hey!” I snapped my fingers near Hutch’s ear to get his attention.
“What?” Hutch’s expression was sour. “What do you want? You’ve done nothing but yammer for the past five minutes and, quite frankly, I’m sick of it.”
“That’s rich coming from a guy who just watched his wife go over the falls.”
Hutch blanched. “She was my true heart and soul.”
“Yeah, you’re doing an admirable job of mourning her,” I drawled. “I’m truly astounded by the depths of your love. In fact … you’re an inspiration to us all.”
Hutch bobbed his head. “Thank you.”
“Wow. Apparently sarcasm isn’t recognizable in the soap world,” Thistle complained. “We need to escape … and fast.”
“Then let’s head toward the waterfall.”
“But what if the guys aren’t there?” Clove’s tone bordered on whiny. “I mean … what if they head in this direction?”
“Landon said he was going to sit in the center of the island and wait for you,” Thistle pointed out. “He sounded serious to me.”
“He was frustrated that the disco ball didn’t lead to dance fever.”
Thistle snorted. “He’s not the only one. Marcus never complains, but I thought he was going to melt down.”
“It doesn’t matter what Landon says,” I supplied. “It matters what he’ll do. I’m sure he’s complaining bitterly right now.”
“I’m sure that’s putting it mildly.”
“He won’t sit down and do nothing, though,” I pressed. “He’ll look for me. He’ll want to find me. He won’t just sit back and let me do all the work.”