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They continued down the path, the full moon so silver bright it felt like it was about to burst through the trees at any moment. Another sixty paces in and they came upon the shack. It was small, maybe twelve by fifteen feet, with a silvered wood exterior, a canted roof, and a gravel path that led to a single door.
“Is that it?” Drayton asked in a low whisper.
“I think so,” Theodosia said. “It matches the description Holly gave me.”
“But it appears uninhabited. And completely dark. Perhaps Booker’s not hiding out here after all.”
Theodosia studied the cracks around a tar-paper window. “I think there’s a light on inside.”
“It would have to be from a kerosene lamp, then,” Drayton said. “Because I don’t see any power lines.”
Theodosia tiptoed up to the cabin, drew a deep breath, and knocked on the rough wooden door. When nothing happened, when Booker didn’t fling open the door and appear, she knocked again. When there was still no answer, not even a faint stir from inside, she turned to Drayton and said, “Any ideas?”
“We could leave.”
“Other than that.”
“Then I think maybe you should shout out Booker’s name,” Drayton urged. “There’s a chance he’s asleep or...” He glanced with trepidation into the swampy woods. “Or he’s wandering around out there?”
Drayton’s twitchiness and apprehension was beginning to wear off on Theodosia. Fact was, she was starting to get cold feet. What had seemed like a dandy idea two hours ago now felt like a wild goose chase. Or even worse, an encounter tinged with danger.
“If I call out Booker’s name and he answers me, what should I say?” she asked. “Something like, ‘Hello, we’ve been worried about you?’ Or ‘We were in the neighborhood and decided to drop in?’ Whatever I say is going to sound kind of silly.”
“Well,” Drayton said. “This isn’t exactly a social call because we are out here on this godforsaken island. So... better just shout his name and take your chances?”
“Booker?” Theodosia called out. “Booker?” This second time her voice was louder and more demanding.
“Still nothing,” Drayton said. “He must not be here.”
Theodosia squared her shoulders, stepped up to the door again, and gave it a shove. Unexpectedly, the door swung inward on hinges that creaked like a rusty coffin.
“Booker?” Theodosia said. “It’s Theodosia. And Drayton.”
Drayton made a sound in the back of his throat. “The man doesn’t know me from Adam.”
A shiver ran down Theodosia’s spine. What was going on? Had Booker heard them coming? Was he lying in wait for them?
She pulled Drayton’s pistol out of her pocket, pressed the tip of it against the door, and pushed the door open a few more inches. Which yielded more creaking noises and a partial reveal of the dark interior of Booker’s cabin. She peered in and saw the edge of an old iron bed frame along with a battered wooden dresser.
“Booker?” Theodosia said again.
Drayton crept up behind Theodosia and said, “Are you in there?” in a tremulous voice.
Still no response.
Drayton’s shoulders relaxed. “No answer is an answer. Booker’s clearly not in residence.”
“Weird,” Theodosia said. “Because I still see a tiny sliver of light.” She drew a shaky breath and took a step inside. The air that assaulted her smelled of dampness and mildew and kerosene oil. Still feeling apprehensive, not sure what she might find, Theodosia took another step inside. The interior of the cabin was shrouded in darkness except for a dancing flame in an old-fashioned lantern. Now the scent of oil paint filled her nostrils. And something else, too.
But what?
25
Fresh blood.
Booker lay sprawled on the floor of his cabin like a giant that had been felled. He’d landed on his back with his arms splayed out wide as if he’d been making some kind of final grand gesture. He didn’t seem to be breathing; there wasn’t a single twitch.
“Holy cats,” Theodosia breathed as the dancing light from the lantern’s flame suddenly revealed a small black hole in the center of Booker’s forehead. Feeling panicked, her heart practically beating out of her chest, she backpedaled out of the cabin so fast her heels crunched down hard on Drayton’s toes.
