Dylan left the house at around nine twenty that night to meet Alice. His head was ablaze with what he’d just read in Lynn’s journals. How was he going to tell Alice? It was bad enough he had to tell her that it was a matter of hours or days before the FBI appeared to question them. Now, Dylan had even more damning information to give the investigators. He’d have to contact Jim Sheridan as soon as Alice was up at the castle with him. Lynn’s journals would definitely rattle some old bones in the Addie Durand kidnapping case . . . and Dylan finally grasped that elusive motive.
But Lynn’s journals’ effect on Alice was what worried him most.
By nine thirty-three, he was starting to get concerned when Alice didn’t show up at their assigned spot in the woods. She was usually very prompt. He’d heard the music emanating from the marina beach as soon as he walked out of the house, of course. It was the traditional beach party they held on the next to the last night of camp. It was usually a pretty crazy affair, so at first, he figured that was why Alice was late. More than likely, she was celebrating the victory of her Durand job offer with the others and had lost track of time.
By nine thirty-five, he wasn’t so convinced, however. He was worked up by the contents of Lynn’s journals and more than a little anxious. For only the second time since Alice had arrived at the camp, he stalked up to her cabin front door, heedless of the glowing lights in the empty common area that could easily reveal his identity to any onlooker. He knocked, the first time sedately.
The second and third times, not so politely. He was about to run down to the marina when someone spoke from behind him.
“Mr. Fall?”
He spun around at the male voice. He saw a tall dark-haired man that he’d seen hanging around Alice at castle events alongside Kuvi. They stood a few feet from the cabin stoop, the male’s arm looped around Kuvi’s waist. They both looked a little taken aback at seeing him there.
“Kuvi,” he said, glad to see someone close to Alice. “Where’s Alice? Is she still at the party?”
“I think so. I haven’t seen her for a bit, though. Have you, Dave?”
The tall man shook his head. “No, she’s not at the party. She’s up at the castle.”
“What?” Dylan asked, descending the three steps.
“Yeah, she got a note with a message,” Dave said, eyeing him uneasily. “From you, right? I overheard Mira on the phone taking part of the message while I was getting supplies in the kitchen earlier.”
“Tell me everything. What did the note say? Quickly,” Dylan emphasized when Dave just looked perplexed by his request.
“I didn’t read the note myself, but I gave it to Alice maybe twenty minutes ago, just before sunset. I heard enough of Mira’s phone conversation to know it was from you, and that Alice was supposed to go to the castle because there was a family emergency or something like that.”
“Is Sal Rigo still at the party?” Dylan asked, barely restraining his feet from taking off down the path.
Kuvi and Dave exchanged a dubious glance. “I don’t know, to be honest. It’s kind of a madhouse down there.”
“Go back to the beach and look for him.” Kuvi nodded. “If you find him, tell him I never called Mira and that the note was a trick. Tell him to get up to the castle. I’ll call Jim Sheridan on the way up.”
“But—”
“Just do it,” Dylan interrupted Dave.
“Mr. Fall? Is Alice all right?” Kuvi asked, her eyes wide with alarm as he moved past the couple.
“She’d better be. Just do what I asked, Kuvi. Now,” he insisted before he took off down the path to the castle.
*
SOMEONE was dragging her, his hands beneath her armpits hurting her. No, it wasn’t dragging. Her feet were moving—weren’t they? Her legs felt loose and heavy as rocks at once, as if they were attached to her body inexpertly and malfunctioning at their task. Just as she thought it, they failed. She felt herself drop several inches.
“Stand up, you stupid bitch.”
“Leave me . . . alone,” she mumbled between gritted teeth. The sharp tugging on her arms and a knifing pain in her head had to stop. It was unbearable. Opening her eyelids took a monumental effort. Darkness and dizziness assailed her.
She retched.
“Don’t you dare throw up on me,” someone snarled in disgust.