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He glanced at her. “What?”
“Phoebe’s necklace is sending a stronger signal. There’s still a lot of static, but the current is definitely more powerful.”
Luke contemplated the steel door in front of them. “We need to get inside the conservatory.”
“I think so,” Talia said. “But I gotta tell you, it gives me the creeps.”
“This whole damned island has that effect on me.”
The fierce edge on the words surprised her. “What, exactly, is your definition of a creepy vibe?”
He was silent for a moment, studying the distorted view of the interior of the conservatory. “There were times today when the energy here felt... familiar.”
That stopped her cold. She caught her breath.
“Well, shit,” she said softly.
“Yep.”
“Do you think you’ve been here before?” she asked. “Is this your Lucent Springs?”
“If this was the scene of my lost night, all I can tell you is that I have no clear memory of it.”
“But the energy feels familiar.”
“Sometimes.”
“What now?”
“We go back to your cabin,” Luke said. “I want to take a closer look at those papers I found in the file cabinet, and then we need some sleep.”
“All right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
It had probablybeen a mistake to tell Talia that the energy on Night Island had a familiar feel. The less she knew about his lost night, the better. The last thing he wanted to do was try to explain two dead bodies, the scalpel, and his status as a not-so-failed experiment. The problem was that it was getting too easy to talk to Talia. He needed to be more cautious.
The trek back through the gardens took them along a path that was different from the one they had used earlier in the day. The stepping stones wound through banks of massive, luminous ferns, past Marcella Earle’s cabin and the one that had been assigned to Oliver Skinner. Both were dark. No surprise. It wasn’t as if there was anything in the way of after-hours entertainment on Night Island.
Unless you were the Night Gardener.
They were about to pass behind cabin seven, the one that Luke was supposed to be using, when he sensed the shock that struck Talia. In the next second he heard her take in a quick, sharp breath. She stopped.
“Shit,” she whispered. “Shit, shit,shit. I hate when this happens.”
“What?” he asked, searching for the source of the threat.
Talia gazed at the wall of green that bordered the path.
“Pretty sure someone died behind those ferns,” she said.
Luke took out the penlight he had brought with him and eased aside some of the heavy fronds. He was getting to know Talia well, he realized, because he didn’t question her conclusion.
The dead man sprawled, facedown, on a bed of crushed ferns. He looked to be in his late thirties. He was dressed in gardener’s clothes. A leather belt studded with gardening implements was wrapped around his waist.
“This night just keeps getting more and more interesting,” Luke said. “Here, hold the flashlight for me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
