A Change of Plans (23 page)

Elle slapped her temple. “Mrs. Hathaway gave me a bag for you. I forgot all about it.” She moved to the door. “I’ll go get it.”

I leaned back in the chair. I hadn’t lost my treasures. While Aislinn worked on my hair again, I tapped my foot and watched the door.

When Elle finally returned with my woven bag, I bounded out of my chair, leaving a few strands of hair in Aislinn’s hands.

“Show us what you have in there,” Aislinn suggested, her voice quiet.

As Aislinn and Elle combed the rats and tangles out of my hair, I talked about the items Braedon had carved for me and the stories behind them. It surprised me how good it felt to speak of him.

Elle ran her brush through my hair one last time. “You need to get your hair cut. It’s not healthy.” She held up the frizzy ends. “I can totally believe you washed it with lye.”

The phone rang, and I jumped at the unexpected sound. Aislinn answered, said something I couldn’t hear, and hung up. She exchanged glances with Elle and then turned to me. “The Coast Guard found the Scout group.” Aislinn’s eyes glistened. “But not Braedon or the two boys.”

I took her hand. “But they’ll keep looking, right?”

“The catamaran was large enough to justify a lengthy search. A homemade outrigger ....”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s my fault,” I whispered. “They weren’t going to take us. Moli wanted to send someone back for us. It’s my fault they were in that storm with an inexperienced passenger.”

Elle took both my shoulders and gave me a shake. “Lyn, you’re not making sense.
You
were an inexperienced passenger, and you made it. It was just bad luck.”

I blinked rapidly to keep from crying again. “Do you have any idea when they’ll be here?”

“Tomorrow, we hope.” Aislinn indicated the television she had turned on but muted. “I think you should see this.”

It was one of the morning news shows ... and I was the
opening story. Aislinn unmuted it. They were reviewing the old kidnapping news. There was even a flash of Elle, Jori, and the others in our group. Then the screen filled with a picture of Braedon and me. It had to be one of Elle’s from the cruise.

Aislinn turned off the TV. “You needed to know. The press wants to talk to you.”

“No.” I slammed my hand on the table. “This is our loss, not theirs. I can’t stomach the thought of people watching the story while they eat dinner and then go on with their lives, while we’re ....” My voice cracked.

Elle squeezed my arm. “We agree.”

D’
ARCY AND
Mal arrived a while later and set up a laptop for the video call to Marc. I sat in front of the screen and waited impatiently for the call to connect. Finally, a picture of my little brother came into focus.

“Thank God, Lyn!” Marc shouted, his eyes watering. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you. I wish I was there and could give you a huge hug.”

Marc looked older than he should have, crow’s feet spreading from his eyes. The burden of so many losses had left its mark on him. I blinked rapidly. “Wow, little brother, you’re all grown up!”

He rolled his eyes. “To be honest, you look like you could do with a few extra meals.” Marc leaned forward, trying to see me better, his voice soft. “Was it very bad?”

I picked at my battered fingernails, trying to decide what to say. I looked up and attempted a smile. “The accommodations stank, but the company was great.”

“Is there any news?”

Trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I shook my head. Time for a change of topic. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Marc talked for a while about his decision to join the Marines and the girl he had left in Georgia. There was an awkward pause as we stared at each other. I wanted to ask about our parents, but the words wouldn’t come.

My brother’s face crumbled. The sob I had been trying to hold back broke loose. A man’s hand appeared on-screen, squeezing Marc’s shoulder, and Aislinn and Elle each grabbed one of my hands.

Marc wiped his face impatiently. “I’m sorry. This should be a happy time. You’re
alive
.” He hiccupped and his face went crimson. Marc snorted, and I laughed. It was a little hysterical, but the constricting knot in my throat eased. “We’ll talk about them later.”

I nodded and raised my hand in the sign language symbol for ‘I love you’ that our family had always used. He returned it and cut the connection.

O
N THE
fourth day, Elle arrived early in the morning, tapping on the door before using her key card. I stared at her where I sat frozen in front of the television.

She stopped, grimacing at the screen still showing the Coast Guard spokesman.

I clenched the couch cushion against my chest. “How can they call off the search?”

Elle came over and sat beside me. “Mal’s talking to them now.”

The pressure on my chest increased. Closing my eyes, I
forced slow breaths. Elle squeezed my hand, and I focused on the movement of my chest, willing it to calm.

There was a tap on the door, and Elle went to open it. Mal came in, and the slight shake of his head told me all I needed to know. I stood on shaky legs and went to the window, opening it a sliver to stare at the reporters huddling against the increasing wind. Last night, the storm that had halted the search had finally broken, bringing a spark of hope.

“I’m sorry, Lyn.” Mal’s reflection in the glass grew.

The dark, roiling clouds sucked away the light. The first heavy splatters of rain, followed quickly by a tropical deluge, washed away the little flame of hope I had been clinging to. My vision went blurry, and I closed my eyes. “What do we do now?”

Elle’s voice came out as a tight whisper. “The police said we can leave whenever we want.”

I looked at Elle’s image where she had joined her husband behind me, her head resting on his shoulder. “Is this what happened before?”

She nodded, her eyes shining even in the dim reflection.

I turned to face them, my arms folded tightly against my body. “We were still alive. They could be too.”

Elle buried her face in Mal’s shoulder, and he murmured something softly to her before looking at me. “It’s been in the news. Boaters will keep a lookout, and the Coast Guard will notify us if they find anything.”

Find
anything?
My head pounded. “I have to talk to Moli and Isaac.”

I
PACED THE
hotel room, wishing I could go outside or to the
hotel’s gym to release some tension. Even after the hotel had banned the press, a few still had found a way inside.

At a knock, I jumped and approached the door with some trepidation, concerned about a repeat of the night before. I had just been about to leave my room with Aislinn and D’Arcy when he had pushed me back inside reporters trying to press in behind him. We had been stuck until the hotel’s security had arrived.

“It’s Vin.” Elle gave the code phrase. In a different time and place, the ridiculousness of it would have made us laugh.

Mal followed her in, carrying a package with a change of clothes. He handed it to me.

As I accepted it, I said to Mal, “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for a total stranger.”

He flopped on the couch, automatically putting his arm around Elle when she sat next to him. “You’re hardly a stranger, Lyn. Elle has told me so much about you in the last two years that I felt like I knew you even before we met.”

“How’d you two meet?” I asked.

“During the first search. Aislinn and Elle became close, and I got pulled in.” He looked at Elle with soft eyes. “It just kind of happened.”

I smiled as she returned his adoring gaze. “How long have you been married?”

“Two years,” Elle replied, her eyes on Mal.

“Me too,” I whispered. I took the package and went to the bathroom to change.

With the help of some of the hotel staff, we snuck past the press. Mal and D’Arcy, dressed in bright-colored shirts, shorts, and large straw hats, drove to the hotel’s loading dock in a rental car with darkened windows to pick us up.

E
LLE HAD
braided my hair and forced it under a baseball cap. I wore simple jeans and a bright shirt. The uncomfortable clothes and sandals set my mood.

We drove to meet Moli and Isaac in a little hole-in-the-wall diner full of people. I went in alone. Once my eyes adjusted to the darker interior, I saw the two men seated in a booth with tall seat backs near the rear.

Hesitating only a moment, I joined them, sliding onto the cracked vinyl bench across from them. Their eyes were dark with grief, and I recalled the vivid, laughing faces of their sons. I had worked very hard all day not to cry, but I lost it then.

“I’m so sorry,” I wept, grabbing a napkin and wiping my nose. In my selfishness, I had stolen Lua and Etano from their families.

Moli frowned, leaning forward as if to hear better. “Mrs. Armstrong told me you feel responsible for what happened. You’re wrong.” His voice was stern. “Don’t take credit for other people’s choices. Our sons wanted to do this. It was their choice.”

Isaac asked, his bereaved face kind, “Do you think you brought on the storm? Are you so powerful as that?”

I shook my head, but I wasn’t convinced.

Moli watched me with discerning eyes. “I’m a spiritual man. I’ve lost my eldest son, but I believe he’s joined our ancestors. I’ll see him again. Your husband was a strong man, and even though I didn’t know him long, I liked him and thought I understood him. He’d want you to be strong too.”

I stared down at my hands, but Moli reached across the table and forced me to look at him. “You have many people
who love you, Lyn, including your husband’s family. You’re their only connection to him now. They thought you were dead, and now they have the joy of your return.”

Moli and Isaac rose from the booth, each shaking my hand. They left without another word.

I sat in the booth, thinking about what they had said. The logical part of me knew they were right, but the emotional part of me continued to feel guilty. Of course I had wanted the boys on our side, but I hadn’t had to convince them. Was Moli right? Was I doing them an injustice by taking credit for their choice?