The Marsh Madness

Silence.

I said, “Because if we’re caught here, I don’t want to have to worry about you. I’ll meet you at the van.”

“Guess you’re right.”

With that I fell onto the bed and into a deep sleep, even though Uncle Kev was building a spectacular blaze in the huge stone fireplace.





CHAPTER NINETEEN





I DIDN’T WANT it to be a dream, because I was so happy to meet Roderick Alleyn. He was every bit as charming as I’d imagined him on the page without any of the elitist characteristics I’d ascribed to him.

I offered him everything I could think of from the fridge in the cabin. He declined, citing legal reasons. Oh well. Before he faded from my mind, he did take the time to offer me what he called a word in my ear. “Look to the stage.”

“You would say that,” I answered.

Alleyn was smiling enigmatically and twiddling his silk tie when my eyes popped open. I lay in the dark, listening to Kev’s gentle rhythmic snore from the next room. All the Kellys snored. I’d always liked the sound; it made me feel safe and happy. Of course, I was far from happy and not in the least bit safe. And there was a lot to think about. There would be a bonanza of Kelly DNA in this cabin after we left, but the police wouldn’t be doing much DNA work even if they did show up. Smiley had always said that forensic resources were tight in the Harrison Falls police budget, and I figured cabin break-ins weren’t top priority.

The fire was glowing nicely. The rain had stopped. The sky was clear. The funky old alarm clock must have been for decoration. It had failed to ring. It was now the middle of the night, We’d need to get going soon. Not that I expected any owners to arrive before dawn but I had the idea that people who loved cabins in the woods also loved arriving at them as the sun was coming up. Even so, I knew better than to wake up Kev too early. He’s bad enough with a full night’s sleep.

I made myself a cup of cranberry-orange tea, picked up the two quilts from “my” bedroom and headed for one of the recliners I’d spotted in the sunroom earlier. Right at that moment, it should have been called the moon room. With its sloped glass roof and glassed sides, it was a magical place, reflecting a black but twinkling universe.

This quiet, deserted and illegal hideout had to be good for something besides keeping the rain off our heads and giving us a place to sleep.

Without the buzz of phones and the presence of real police, I could actually think.

As my life and the lives of people around me were spinning out of control, I needed to be calm and to reflect. Job one: Figure out what was happening to us and why.

The million twinkling stars reminded me of my tiny role in this universe. I don’t know how long I sat there, watching. The night sky reminded me that life goes on, and sometimes we need a little distance to make sense of things.

For the first time since we’d heard of Chadwick’s death, I felt a bit of pleasure. The stars can give you perspective. Perspective was something I’d totally lost. It had been replaced by fear, anxiety and panic. Yet here, I could feel peaceful.

From the time I was a little girl I’d adored the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper too. I’d particularly loved how the stars made such vivid pictures in the sky.