“But what makes you think he’ll go to the falls?” Thistle asked. “How can you be sure?”
“Because he’s an FBI agent. It’s in his nature to investigate. While he won’t be happy – and I’m sure Marcus and Sam want to throttle him right about now because his complaints are bound to be loud and vigorous – he’ll go for the waterfall because that’s the last thing we all saw before being separated. That’s the one clue we have to go on.”
Thistle looked as if she wanted to argue, but she ultimately kept her mouth shut.
“Let’s go.” Clove held out her hand. “I hope you’re right about this.”
“I hope so, too.”
IT SHOULD’VE TAKEN US HOURS to hike to the waterfall. I wasn’t great when it came to geography or distances – Landon often said I had a negative sense of direction – but the fact that we were standing in front of the majestic water display within twenty minutes didn’t sit well with me.
“Did we find a wormhole to travel through when I wasn’t looking?”
“Why are you complaining?” Clove wiped the back of her hand over her brow to swipe away the sweat. “I’m glad we don’t have to keep walking.”
“That’s because you’re a kvetch,” Thistle said, turning her attention to the raging waters at the bottom of the waterfall. “Well, we’re here. I don’t see Marcus, Sam or Landon.”
She didn’t go out of her way to sound argumentative, but I felt the sting of the unsaid accusation all the same. “They’re close.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I feel it.”
Thistle tilted her head to the side. It was odd seeing her with muted hair – it reminded me of when we were kids and her mother banned her from the hair dye aisle at Target after an unfortunate shoplifting incident – and for some reason it made her look younger. She looked almost vulnerable.
“Marcus is fine,” I said. “Aunt Tillie would never let anything happen to him.”
“I know he’s fine,” Thistle muttered. “I just don’t want to spend time with you two when I could be with him.”
Of course, even when she looked vulnerable she was often a pain in the butt. “They’re close. We’ll find them soon.”
“You’d better be right.” Thistle moved to the edge of the water and dropped to her knees to study something embedded in the soft mud. “There’s a footprint here.”
I looked over her shoulder. “It looks like a smaller foot.”
“A woman,” Thistle said. “Maybe it’s Hutch’s beloved wife.”
“I miss her so much.” Hutch’s eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, even though he hadn’t shed a tear during the walk. “I’ll never get over her loss.”
“How many times have you been married?” I asked.
“Eight. Each one was a treasure and gift.”
“I figured.” I rolled my neck until it cracked. “I’m sorry for your loss, but there’s a very real chance that your wife survived the fall and walked off that way.” I pointed toward what looked to be a small mountain. “Hey, I don’t remember the island having a mountain. When we landed, it was as flat as … well, Thistle’s personality when she has a hangover.”
“You’ll pay for that when we get home.” Thistle dusted off her hands on her jeans as she stood. “I guess we need to follow the footprints to find our next scene.”
“Does anyone else think we should just hang out here?” Clove asked, splashing the cool water on her face. “It’s nice and pretty. I just know wherever we’re going next won’t be nice and pretty.”
“It sounds like an intriguing option, but we need to work through the scenes to get out of here,” I reminded her. “We can’t sit around and wait.”
“You’re very smart,” Hutch intoned, leaning closer. His eyes were clear and he had a flirtatious smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you how smart you are?”
I shifted away from him, lobbing a glare as I increased the distance between us. “Don’t invade my personal space.”
“That’s not what I was doing.” Hutch was all innocence and light. “I was merely talking about your intelligence.”
“Well … stay over there when you wax poetic about what a genius I am.”
“Sure. Sure.” Hutch bobbed his head. “Did I mention that intelligent women turn me on? Also … I love blondes.”
He made my stomach twist. “What color was your wife’s hair?”
“Who can remember things like that?”
“Ugh, you’re a complete and total tool.” I ground my molars. “Let’s go. We need to follow the footprints. Landon is probably going crazy.”
“He’s not the only one,” Thistle said. “I kind of want to punch someone.”
“I suggest Hutch.”
“You read my mind.”
WE WALKED ANOTHER ten minutes before the sound of voices assailed our ears. I hurried over a hill, pulling up short when I caught sight of a woman with long red hair standing in the middle of a small clearing. Behind her, a cabin materialized, making me think we’d arrived in the woods rather than remained on an island.
“Queenie?” Hutch asked, confused.
The woman turned, her eyes latching onto mine. I might not have recognized the hair – it was ridiculously red, after all – but I did recognize the face. “Lila?”
“Oh, you just knew we weren’t going to make it out of here without seeing her,” Thistle seethed. “Someone punch her before she gets a chance to open her mouth.”
I considered arguing with the sentiment, but even a fake Lila was an annoying Lila … and punching her in the face always held at least minimal appeal.
“Queenie, I can’t believe it’s you.” Hutch took a hesitant step forward, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. “I thought you were dead.”
“And he was really torn up about it, too,” Thistle deadpanned. “For a second there we thought he might throw a party or something.”
Lila didn’t look nearly as happy to see Hutch as he did to see her. “I can’t believe you found me. Are you stalking me? Are you trying to force me to do the one thing I don’t want to do … again?”
“I would never force you to do what you don’t want to do,” Hutch protested. “I love you.”
“Well, I don’t love you,” Lila shot back. “I’ve found someone else. I’ve found my true love.”
Hutch planted his hands on his hips. “And who is this rogue?”
“His name is Jericho Steele … and he’s twice the man you’ll ever be.”
I should’ve seen that coming. “Jericho? Is he here?”
“He’s close,” Lila replied. “He’s waiting for me in there.” She gestured toward the cabin. “We’re going to run away together and start a new life.”
“But you’re pregnant with my baby,” Hutch challenged.
Lila balked. “How do you know that?”
“Because I replaced your birth control pills with sugar tablets.” Hutch turned aggressive. He was no longer the amiable tool hanging around a therapeutic mud pit with a woman he barely knew. He wasn’t even the annoying sniffle monster who followed us to the waterfall while moaning about his probably dead wife. Now he was something else entirely. “I knew you were running around on me. I knew you were cheating. I had to stop you.”
“And getting me pregnant when it was the exact opposite of what I wanted was your plan?” Lila was beside herself. “You’re a fiend!”
“Oh, geez.” Thistle pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I may be a fiend,” Hutch shot back. “But I’m a fiend who gets what he wants, and I want you.”
“Since when?” Thistle’s irritation was on full display. “You had your tongue down some other woman’s throat an hour ago.”
“That is a lie!” Hutch roared. “I love only my wife.”
I rolled my eyes. “I so don’t want to be part of this conversation. Lila, where is Landon?”
Lila was confused. “Who is Landon?”
“Who is Lila?” Hutch asked.
I sucked in a breath and regrouped. “Queenie, where is Jericho?”
“I told you, he’s in the cabin,” Lila replied. “He’s waiting for me.”
I had doubts Landon would ever wait for Lila, but I was eager to be reunited with him so I moved past Lila and left her to argue to her heart’s content with Hutch. Their issues were not my issues. At least I hoped they weren’t my issues.
“Landon?” I waited for him to answer, but when nothing happened I tried again. “Landon?”