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Odell and Henri were headed back to the dock for the rest of the load.
“See you next week then.” Bull seemed to hesitate. “I guess Gator told you that if anything happens that you decide you don’t want to stay here, you can get Carlos, you know the old fisherman who lives in the boathouse, to take you to the mainland if you are in trouble. He’s okay.”
She wanted to ask him more, like what kind of “trouble” he might be referring to, and if Carlos was “okay,” was Odell not? But Henri and Odell had returned to pick up the supply boxes. “Thanks” was all she said to Bull. At least there was a way off the island in a hurry if she needed it. And for some reason, both Bull and Gator seemed to think she might need it.
Feeling uneasy, she watched Bull take off in the boat. Both men seemed worried about her—and neither even knew just how much trouble she was in. Within seconds the boat disappeared into the line of green mangrove islands and was gone.
Henri and Odell came back down to the dock to help with the rest of the supply boxes. Both were talking as if they were old friends. Maybe they were, Willa thought. Maybe nothing was as it seemed. Was Odell writing a book about Cape Diablo and what had happened here? If so, why didn’t he just say so? She watched Henri and Odell, both lost in conversation, pick up the remainder of their items from the dock and leave. Willa waited as she saw Goth Girl coming back down. The girl looked surlier than before, if that was possible.
“Hi, I’m Willie,” Willa said, catching herself before she blurted out her real name. She held out her hand.
The girl just stared at it, but mumbled the word “Blossom.” Goth Girl had one of those young faces that made it hard to gauge her age. The eyes had an old look, as if the girl had seen way too much during her short lifetime, Willa thought. Willa’s heart went out to her. She knew firsthand what it was like to age almost overnight after witnessing something horrendous.
“Blossom. That’s a unique name,” Willa said, trying to be friendly and at the same time wondering what the girl was doing here. Blossom obviously wasn’t pleased to be here.
“Blossom is my stage name,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of me.”
Willa wouldn’t dare. She understood stage names. Like Cara was hers.
“You’ve never heard of me,” Blossom accused with obvious contempt. “I’ve only like done a ton of films, plays and commercials. Are you one of those freaks who doesn’t watch TV?”
“I’ve been too busy to watch much TV,” Willa said, deciding befriending this girl had been a mistake. “So what brings you to Cape Diablo?”
Blossom made a face. “My agent, the bitch. She thinks I need a break. She just can’t stand the idea of me having any fun. I’m just supposed to make money for her and my parents. They’re in on it, too, the parasites. They all think my friends are dragging me down.” The girl looked even younger as tears welled in her eyes. “A week. I have to spend a frigging week here. It’s blackmail. I should have them arrested. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to dump them all.”
Still feeling the effects of the headache she’d awakened with, Willa couldn’t think of a thing to say as the girl spun around, picked up her supply box and headed for the villa.
After a moment, Willa picked up her own supply box from the dock again and followed. Avoiding the sour girl wouldn’t be difficult and now that Odell had Henri to talk to, Willa wouldn’t have anyone to bother her. She hurried back to her apartment, anxious to have some breakfast and start painting.
As she climbed the stairs, she could hear Henri’s and Odell’s voices in the apartment below her but couldn’t make out the words. Blossom disappeared into a small apartment at the end under Willa’s bedroom. Willa realized there were two small studios under her larger apartment. She’d been lucky to get the rental, it appeared.
After unpacking her food supplies, she made herself breakfast and went right to work painting. It surprised her sometimes how the paintings came to her. She worked furiously caught up in the process, hardly paying any attention to what began to appear on the canvas.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she heard voices in the courtyard. She stepped back from the easel to stare at what she’d painted. The villa, the walls cloaked in what appeared to be a bright red spray of bougainvillea. She stared at the painting, disturbed by the feeling it g
ave her.
Leaving the painting and the uneasy feeling it gave her, her thoughts returned to what Bull had said about Cape Diablo being cursed—and Odell writing a book about it. Unconsciously she massaged the bruises on her wrist.
She could still hear Odell downstairs with Henri. Glancing out the window, she saw that he’d left his door open. She could see a small desk with a typewriter right by the door. This might be her only chance.
Shocked by what she was about to do, Willa slipped out of her apartment and sneaked down the stairs and across the courtyard. She didn’t look into the depths of the pool as she passed it. Nor did she turn to glance back until she reached the pool house and Odell’s apartment.
The blinds in Henri’s apartment were drawn. Willa could hear Henri laughing, as if she found Odell highly amusing. Which made Willa suspicious. But then she was suspicious of everyone, wasn’t she?
Taking another quick look back at Henri’s apartment to make sure no one had come out or was watching through the blinds, Willa stepped through Odell’s open doorway.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust in the cool darkness inside the apartment. She moved to the desk. Next to the old-fashioned manual typewriter was a ream of white paper that had yet to be opened. On the other side was a stack of newspapers.
Her heart jumped as she saw the newspapers. Some were yellowed with age and felt brittle in her fingers. She read the headline on the top one. Entire Family Disappears From Cape Diablo.
So Bull had been right apparently.
As she set the newspaper gingerly back down, she saw a more recent headline on a paper below it.
All breath rushed from her. She lifted the older newspaper and pulled out the more recent one and gasped.
Next to the headline, Key Witness Missing In Murder Of Undercover Cop: Hunt On Following Safe House Attack, was her photo.
