“We found the eggs. And my sister is turning into a bird. We’re going to talk to Peter. I think he might have been the last person to see her before whatever happened to her in the barn.”
Vira took this news in stride.
She looked past me to where Prue and Harrison waited in the rowboat. “Is that your ride?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s a little slow, but it’s all we have.”
Vira put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the pouring water. She scanned the island, left to right, and then smiled.
“She’s almost back. Just give me a second.”
She went into the house and emerged a moment later in a bright-yellow raincoat covered in cheery cartoon ducks. She fit a matching hat on her head.
“Wow. I’ve never loved you this much,” I said.
“And you’re about to love me even more.” She pointed over my shoulder. “Behold, our new ride.”
I turned around to see Julia Montgomery pulling up to the second-floor railing of the building behind the wheel of a squat little red tugboat. Julia threw the lines to her daughter, and Vira tied the boat up. Julia stepped onto the landing.
“Georgina, it’s so nice to see you,” Julia said, and although her voice was a little strained, I thought she mostly meant it.
“Can we take the tug out? Errands,” Vira said.
“Do I want to know what kind of errands?” Julia asked.
“We’re going to clear my name,” I offered. “And Mary’s, while we’re at it.”
Julia considered for just a moment, and then she dropped the keys to the tugboat into Vira’s waiting hands.
“Why does your mother own a tugboat?” I asked Vira as the four of us ditched the rowboat for our upgraded ride.
“Tugboats are really useful,” Vira said, as if it were obvious, and then she pointed her chin at Prue and winked at me approximately eight hundred times.
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” I said.
She took her place as the captain of the tugboat, and it was like the universe shifted just a little bit back into place, as if to say,Yes, of course this is where Elvira Montgomery belongs: behind the wheel of a tugboat wearing a matching raincoat and rainhat.
Then she called, “I recommend life jackets! It’s been a while since I’ve actually driven this thing,” and that feeling shattered just a tiny bit. Harrison, Prue, and I dutifully slid into our bright-orange life vests (I helped Vira put hers on) and with a slightly worrying lurch, we were off.
We made our way to the Elmhursts’ farm through water that was growing more and more unruly. The tugboat had been a lifesaver; there was no way we could have rowed ourselves through waves this high and choppy. Prue turned green and gripped the railing, keeping her head over the side of the boat, staring into the dark waterlike she might, at any given moment, hurl.
The rain had become a thing alive and dangerous, pouring down around us in buckets. It was impossible to see more than five or ten feet in front of the boat. Vira took it slow, and I stood at the bow with an actual lantern, feeling very 1800s-whale-hunting-expedition, yelling back to her if we came too close to buildings or trees sticking up out of the water. We found the Elmhursts’ barn almost by accident, after weaving back and forth with no real idea of where we were.
The barn doors were open—the yellow police tape gone—and the water poured in and out of the entrance freely. Together with Harrison I guided the boat carefully through the doors. The lights were off—I wondered if the power outage had affected the whole island—but I held the lantern up and Harrison took his flashlight out again and pointed it around. The beam landed on Peter, sitting on the loft with his legs dangling over the side. The water was so high that the bottom of his sneakers skimmed the surface every time they kicked back and forth.
He had a strange expression on his face. I felt like I had stumbled upon him in a too-intimate moment.
Vira killed the engine of the tugboat.
Prue finally vomited.
Harrison rubbed her back.
The three of them presently occupied, I turned to Peter.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey, Georgie,” he replied.
