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“Move,” he ordered. “The lodge is going to blow.”
“I was thinking a chilled pasta-and-pesto salad,” she said.
No one paid any attention.
“You said we’ve got a boat to catch?” Phoebe called over her shoulder. “Were you able to signal one?”
“Yes,” Luke said. “That’s why I came back to the lodge when I did.”
They made their way down the rutted lane to the dock. Talia saw an expensive-looking yacht sailing toward Night Island.
“Wow, first class,” she said. “I like your style, Rand.”
There was a low rumble from the burning lodge at the top of the drive. She turned around. So did the others. They watched as the building exploded in a fireball. A hellish storm of debris rained down on the plants closest to the structure. A moment later the gardens burst into flames.
“I like your style, too, March,” Luke said, studying the conflagration with deep interest. “Never a dull moment around you, is there?”
She glared. “That fire is not my fault.”
“You were the one who forced Finch to aim the weed killer at the fireplace,” Luke pointed out. “I’m not criticizing, by the way. That was a very smart move, under the circumstances.”
“Why would the herbicide cause the fire to explode?” Phoebe said, unable to look away from the burning gardens.
“Who knows what chemicals were in that canister,” Luke said.
Octavia shook her head, stunned. “I don’t understand. I never thought those plants would burn so easily.”
“I think it’s the energy in the atmosphere on the island,” Talia said. “Octavia, you told us things have been escalating, getting more intense.”
“So?” Phoebe said.
“There is something in the logbook about fire being one of the elemental forces that can burn from the normal end of the spectrum all the way into the paranormal. As Luke said, the weed killer acted like gasoline on the fire.”
“Okay, that’s scary,” Phoebe said.
“I always knew there was some malignant force on this island,” Octavia said.
“I don’t know that it’s fair to say it’s malignant,” Talia said. “Energy is energy. It doesn’t have a moral compass. What matters is how it’s used.”
Octavia shook her head. “I’m telling you, it’s bad energy.”
“I agree with you,” Phoebe said. She shuddered. “Bad things happened on that island.”
“Listen up, people,” Luke said. “We don’t have time for a discussion of metaphysics. Our ride is almost here. Here is rule number one. There will be no mention of a mad scientist, paranormal energy, hidden underground labs, carnivorous plants, or anything else that will make all of us sound like we need a psych evaluation. Is that clear?”
“Clear,” Talia said.
Octavia grimaced. “Absolutely clear.”
“I’ve had enough of being locked up,” Phoebe said. “I don’t want to do time in a psychiatric hospital.”
“It’s settled, then,” Luke said. “Phoebe, Talia, and I were all guests at the lodge. Octavia was the cook.”
“Chef,” Talia said.
Octavia squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
“Chef,” Luke corrected. “Management and the other guests left on the ferry yesterday. We were expecting the ferry to return today. It didn’t. Probably a communications mix-up. We decided to flag down a passing vessel. Then came the fire. Got it?”
