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“Who’s that?” she asks.
I turn and look where she’s pointing. A long way down the road, dust is pluming up into the air. A car is approaching, coming at speed. “We due any visitors today?” she asks.
“Maybe George coming to check on us?”
“You think he’d drive all the way from college when he’s managed with video calling all summer?”
“I don’t know. Who else could it be?”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” I pick up the binoculars, peering through them. “It’s a car.”
Fleur rolls her eyes. “Well, that’s the mystery solved. Good work, Holmes. Thank God you’re here.”
I stick my tongue out at her. “It’s a limo, I think. Hard to tell with the dust.”
We both stand and watch as the car gets closer. I get a strange sense of unease passing through me but I shake it off. I’m guessing speaking to my father after so long has put me on edge.
The car stops by the tent. The dust drifts away on the wind long before the back door opens.
When it does, out steps the tallest man I’ve ever seen. He’s not just tall. He’s broad like a tree. I’m not even sure how he fitted in the car. At least six foot five, maybe more. Black stubble, cropped dark brown hair. He’s wearing a dark gray suit that looks designer. It’s the kind of thing my father wore but on this guy it looks so much better.
He looks my way and our eyes lock.
In that moment, something passes between us, something I don’t understand. I know that face. I’m sure I do. Where have I seen it before? Where have I seen him before?
“Anna Caruso,” he says. It’s a statement, not a question. His voice is deep, rumbling, and scares the shit out of me. He sounds furious, like I just ran over his cat or slapped his kids or something.
“Who’s asking?” Fleur replies on my behalf.
“Stay out of this,” he tells her, taking a step toward me. “Get in the car, Anna.”
I shake my head. “I’m all right here, thanks.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
There’s something about his tone that sends fear down deep into the pit of my stomach. “Who are you?” I ask.
“You sure you don’t remember me?”
I look at him closer, squinting, trying to take away the stubble and the wrinkles. “Leo? Is that you?”
“Get in the car, Anna.”
“Who is this?” Fleur asks. “What’s going on?”
“It’s all right,” I tell her, leaning close to whisper to her. “Shell Island.”
“What?”
“That’s where he’s taking me.”
“You’re not going with him,” she hisses back. “He looks like a psycho.”
“It’ll be all right.” It’s a lie but hopefully one that will keep her alive. I know what happens if I refuse to go with him. I’ve heard about him over the years. How he no longer has any mercy. Not since the crash. No pity. No soul. If he wants me in the car and I refuse, first thing he’ll do is shoot Fleur. I can’t let that happen.
She doesn’t look convinced. I force a smile on my face. “Find me,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “And look after Gorgo for me.”
“Please,” she says. “Don’t go with him, Anna. I’m getting a really bad feeling about this.”
