I look back and see her leaning against the wall like she needs it for support.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “The police…do I really have to talk to them?”

  “You might, if they suspect Ethan of killing Dallas.”

  “I can’t really talk to them, Jake. They might…I might…I might get in trouble if I do.”

  “You mean—” I decide not to ask. She must have a warrant out on her for something. The last thing I need is to learn more about my fellow tenants. We’re already knee-deep in one another’s lives.

  Alaina’s staring at the concrete walkway. It’s painted turquoise. Like the bottom of a swimming pool. The paint is chipped and peeling. She looks so young I could just as easily be standing face-to-face with one of Mackenzie’s friends. I suspect she’s lived a very different life than the kids Mackenzie grew up with.

  “Thanks for the car,” she says with a hint of sadness in her voice. “No one’s ever done anything like that for me. And I acted like a shitheel when you gave me the keys.”

  “You’re welcome. But like I said, I wish I hadn’t. I should’ve thought about it more—I knew the causeway was in shit shape—but I didn’t. And I had no idea you were so freaked out by Ethan.”

  “You couldn’t have known. You were trying to be nice. Sometimes I’m shitty when people are nice.” She’s still not looking at me. She kicks at the chipped floor. “Like Dallas. I was always shitty to him. And now…”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Alaina. You were scared. We all were…. Can we go now?”

  I want to drag her to Lloyd’s, but I know I can’t. Her lack of urgency makes me anxious.

  “Alaina?”

  “It wasn’t just Ethan and the meeting…. I was also rushing because of the guy I saw downstairs. He freaked me out when I was leaving.”

  I freeze in place. The wind picks up a little, causes me to shiver. “What guy, Alaina?”

  Alaina finally raises her eyes to mine. “Just some dude. Some random creep. He was poking around in the garage, looking at the cars. He asked me if I knew who was still in the building. I figured he was one of the squatters from the other buildings. Remember how they used to hang around here? I tried to call the police when I got in the car, but there was no signal. Of course.”

  I point toward her apartment. “It wasn’t Tyler?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Even with the blood all over his face, I can tell it wasn’t him. It was just some rando, Jake.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t know…dark jacket…kind of clean-cut for a squatter. He’d shaved, no facial hair. His clothes looked clean too. That’s all I’ve got.”

  “And he didn’t say anything else?”

  “No, he just acted all entitled. Like it wasn’t weird at all that he was nosing around the garage.”

  “Shit.”

  “Who do you think he is?”

  “I don’t know, but this is not good. Come on. Let’s go to Lloyd’s.”

  Sixty-One

  The apartment grows chaotic after I walk in with Alaina—back from the dead and walking among us.

  Everyone asks her questions all at once, and Alaina takes her time giving them a play-by-play of her escape. She’s treated like an astronaut returning from a dangerous voyage to the moon. As she should be. I’m still astonished she made it out alive. She must be made of iron underneath her tiny frame.

  “Can I ask you something, dear?” Hazel says.

  “What’s that?”

  “Didn’t you tell me that you have Native American ancestry? From these parts? Was it your father? Or was it someone else?”

  “My grandfather. Why do you ask?”

  “That’s why you made it out alive, dear. The island protected you. The Native spirits.”

  Alaina looks like she wants to roll her eyes, but she doesn’t.

  Ethan stays back, but he hangs on Alaina’s every word, watches her every move.

  When everyone returns to the hallway—joined by Alaina—I slip back to the living room to catch Lloyd alone. He’s at his post by Catalina’s bedside, holding her hand, and looks up when I come in, offering his flat-mouthed version of a smile.

  “That’s a nice miracle to see,” he says.

  “It is.” I pull up a chair next to him. His eyebrows rise. He knows I want to talk. “But there’s something else at play.”

  Lloyd remains quiet. Waiting for me to go on.

  I catch him up: Tyler’s battered body. Alaina’s story about someone helping her get undressed. Stanley AWOL, maybe making a try for the dinghy.

  “The storm is letting up,” I say. “We’re going to be in the eye soon. Which means someone could potentially cross the water and get help. Or at least get some of us off this island and away from danger.”

  “How many do you think could fit in the dinghy?”

  “I’d guess just two or three. Probably has an outboard motor. It will be a rough ride, but a person who knows how to control a boat like that could make it.”

  “You clearly have someone in mind.”

  My eyes move to the hallway, where the low murmur of conversation continues. I turn back to Lloyd. “Jordan could do it. Hell, Mackenzie could too. Jordan’s parents live on a lake in Ohio. They’ve both spent a lot of time there—Jordan since she was a kid. They can do it.”

  Lloyd’s eyebrows go up again. “You want to send your wife and daughter out in a dinghy on the Intracoastal? During a hurricane? Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m going with them.”

  The eyebrows rise higher, which I didn’t think was possible.

  “Look, Lloyd….” I let out a sigh so loud and long it sounds for a moment like we’re sitting in a wind tunnel. “I think we’re in real trouble here. The building is—well, it’s not that sturdy….”

  Lloyd glances at the ceiling. “It’s definitely on its last legs. It’s used up eight and a half lives.” He lowers his head, stares right into my eyes. “Maybe eight and three-quarters.”

  “I agree. Plus, someone—and I’m not sure who—is running around hurting people. They got Dallas. They attacked Ethan. They killed Tyler.”

  “It’s Stanley.”

  “Could be. But Alaina says she saw another man downstairs. Not Stanley, not Tyler.” Lloyd doesn’t argue. “We’re fighting a war on two fronts. Maybe three.”

  “When the eye reaches us, you’ll only have about forty-five minutes or so. You want to strike while the iron’s hot.”

  “If we can get over to the mainland, the police might be able to send someone before the storm kicks into gear again. Maybe a boat big enough to evacuate all of us. Maybe someone to protect us. And find the killer.”

  Lloyd turns his head to Catalina. “I’ll be right here.” He leans down and kisses her on the cheek. “But some of the others may object to your plan. They may not want you to leave without them.”

  “If someone else wants to step up…”

  “No, it should be you.” He nods toward the hallway. “I’m not sure I trust anyone else.”

  “Plus, Stanley’s out there. Or whoever else.”

  “Is it possible he already took the dinghy?”

  “Unlikely. The weather’s been too bad. But the window’s almost open. We need to move.”

  “I told you he was a snake in the grass.”

  Catalina manages to lift her hand enough to give Lloyd a gentle slap on the arm.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’m not sure about that myself. We’ll have to see.”

  When I stand up, Lloyd says my name like it’s an order: “Jake.” His hand reaches around toward his back. “If you’re going out there, you don’t know what you’re walking into….”

  “No, thanks, Lloyd. I’m willing to take my chances.”

  Sixty-Two

  The group in the hallway carries on a conversation somewhere between an argument and a dorm room bull session.

  The air in the apartment has become repulsive. It’s worse than a locker room. It’s a garbage dump. Everyone wears a sheen of sweat. Everyone smells.

  “Were you going to share this with us, Jake?” Sawyer has a tight grip on his cane. He looks put out. “About Stanley disappearing and Tyler being dead?”

  “Murdered,” Kiara says, voice low.

  “Right. Murdered. Were you going to share that with us?”

  “Of course. But it seems like you found out on your own.”

  “Everyone deserves to know,” Alaina says.

  “I agree. But we can’t overreact. We don’t know what Stanley’s involvement is in any of this. Alaina must have told you she saw another man downstairs, one who wasn’t Stanley or Tyler.”

  “No, she didn’t tell us that,” Nina says.

  “I hadn’t gotten to it yet,” Alaina says.

  “Well, she did. And I saw a man earlier—it might be the same guy. So we really don’t know what we’re dealing with. Stanley could be in trouble himself.”

  Sawyer taps his cane against the floor. “Or he’s on his way to the mainland. If he is, he’ll be long gone before we can tell anyone what he’s done.”

  “I doubt he’s doing that. The water’s been too rough…until now.”

  “But why run off?” Sawyer asks. “Doesn’t that look like a guilty man?”

  It’s a very good question, and I don’t have an answer. So I tell them about my plan to take advantage of the eye by using the dinghy to get to the mainland.

  Mackenzie’s mouth falls open. She looks at Jordan, who appears only slightly less thrilled.

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Kiara asks.

  “It is. But it’s hard to tell which is more dangerous—staying here and doing nothing or trying to get help.”

  “You’re more daring than I thought, Jacob,” Hazel says. “Or maybe you’re dense.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hazel. But I’m willing to take my chances.”

  “If the boat is still there,” Ethan says, “and if the eye lasts long enough.”

  “That’s right,” I say. “But, in a way, it’s not really my decision to make. I think Jordan should be the one to drive the dinghy.”

  Every head in the hallway swings from me to Jordan. She doesn’t flinch from the sudden attention. She smirks, as if she knew all along I was leading up to this. She probably did. Neither Mackenzie nor I have ever been able to get anything past her.

  “Why Jordan?” Alaina asks.

  “Mom knows how to handle a boat better than anybody. She grew up on a lake, fishing with her dad. I’ve seen her take a fishing boat into the tightest coves. She’s better at it than Grandpa.”

  “That’s right,” I say. “Unless someone else thinks they can handle the boat better than Jordan. I’m not opposed to that.”

  Each person in that hallway looks around, searching one another’s faces for another volunteer. The building groans again. A sick cry from a dying beast.

  “And that’s why we need to move quickly,” I say. “Does anybody else want to steer the boat? Or is it Jordan?”

  No one speaks up except Sawyer. “I used to be able to do that. When I fished. But I don’t think I could get in a boat now. I struggle to get into a car.”

  “Don’t look at us,” Nina says, grabbing Kiara’s hand.

  The other heads shake.

  Ethan says, “I could maybe do it—I mean, I’ve handled a boat before. But with the hurricane…and after what I’ve just been through…my anxiety is through the roof.”

  “If there is a roof,” Sawyer says, but no one laughs.

  A quiet moment draws out, and then Alaina says, “I’d like to go.” I catch her sneaking a look at Ethan. “I have friends in town. They might be able to help. And a meeting would help. How many can fit in the boat?”

  “Three,” I say. “Maybe four if two people are small. Like you and Kenzie.”

  “Wait a minute,” Ethan says. “You’re leaving, Jake? You can’t. We’ll be sitting ducks with a killer running around outside. Maybe more than one killer.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  A voice comes from behind me. It’s Lloyd’s. He holds the Glock in front of his chest like an assassin. The sight of him makes me shudder a little, even though I knew all along he had the gun.

  “No one’s getting through that door,” he says. “No one’s getting at Cat if I have anything to say about it. If Jake takes the dinghy, which I think he should, we’ll lock things up tight and wait.”

  No one says anything after that. I’m not sure there is anything that could be said. Lloyd’s statement feels like the end of something. A period at the end of this sentence.

  Sixty-Three

  5:15 a.m.

  I’m impatient, checking the weather dozens of times in the next couple of hours.

  Finally, I stick my head out Lloyd’s door and see the rain is no longer falling in sheets. An enormous weight settles inside my chest, a heavy pressure not unlike the storm hovering overhead.

  It’s time for us to go.

  When I close the door, Lloyd’s watching me. He can tell. He walks over to me, his hand extended. “Good luck, boss. I’ll keep an eye on things here as best I can.”

  “I’m sure you can handle it.”

  “I guess it’s pointless to offer you the gun again. You’ll just say no, right?”

  “You know me well by now.”

  “I’m only trying to be generous. I really want to keep it for myself.”

  “It’s yours.”

  We shake.

  Catalina’s bell rings. Lloyd starts for her, but she manages to lift her hand, beckoning me closer.

  When I get to her side, she points in the direction of her head. It takes me a moment to figure out that she wants me to reach under her pillow.

  I find a rosary there. The off-white beads appear to be carved from either ivory or bone. The crucifix shows a writhing Christ in tarnished silver. It looks ancient and valuable.

  “I can’t take this.”

  She makes a shooing gesture toward me.

  “Lloyd?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve never won an argument with her. You won’t either.”

  I say to her, “What if this ends up on the bottom of the Intracoastal? It’s yours.”

  She makes the shooing gesture again. “I know…not your beliefs…but I believe…”

  A small amount of relief settles over me, an easing of the heavy weight that accumulated in my chest when the rain slowed. I gather the rosary into my hand, close it in my fist. The smooth beads feel good against my skin.

  “Okay, I’ll keep it. I was actually raised Catholic. I just kind of gave up on it.”

  Catalina nods.

  I bend down, kiss her on the cheek. “I hope Lloyd doesn’t mind.”

  I place the rosary in the pocket of my jeans and get Alaina, Jordan, and Mackenzie from the hall. They each hold a flashlight. They’re ready. Eyes wide.

  “It looks like we have our window.”

  Even though the storm has slowed, the building lets out a long, low creaking sound above us. Like a giant door swinging open on rusty hinges.

  We all look up.

  “The water might be safer than this place,” Alaina says.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Alaina? After what you just went through? Maybe it’s best—”

  “Why are you asking me this now, Jake?”

  “No one has to go. Not if you don’t want to.” I look at all of them, especially Mackenzie and Jordan. “If you want to call this off…”

  Jordan shakes her head. “Someone has to go for help.” She lowers her voice so only the four of us can hear. “I’m not so sure about this building either.” She grabs my hand, squeezes it. “We can’t afford not to try.”

  Mackenzie leans forward. “You and Mom always tell me to do the right thing, Dad. I mean, like, over and over again. Maybe we should put that into practice when we have the chance.”

  But how do we know this is the right thing?

  “Yeah, okay.”

  I have my doubts about Alaina. Does she really not remember all of what happened? Is there something she’s not telling us?

  “Alaina,” I say, “are you sure you’re okay going on the water again?”

  “I’m fine, Jake. What are you trying to say?” Her eyes bore into mine. For someone so young, she sure can summon a lot of intensity.

  “No, it’s fine. Let’s get going.”

  We say good-bye to the others. I promise to send help as soon as we can. An unsettled feeling hovers in the air. No one is quite sure what to say or do. My flashlight catches Hazel’s face. Her eyes are full of tears. She wipes at them with both hands. Seeing her this way nearly kills me. It almost makes me want to stay. Almost.

  “Hazel, we’ll be okay.”

  Her sniffles are long and loud. “That gift—it’s just going to go to waste. After all my work.”

  I’m not sure whether to laugh or to be angry. I remind myself she’s an old lady. An old lady who’s losing her mind. “Hazel, I’ll get the gift when I come back.”

  “If you come back…if any of us are here…”

  “Hazel, please.” I stop myself from losing my temper. “We’ll see you all later.”

  I turn to my little band of travelers, and we all head for the door, the rosary beads in my pocket offering me surprising comfort.

  Sixty-Four

  Before we take a single step, the door to Lloyd’s apartment snaps shut behind us. It sounds like a gunshot. A final statement.

  The rain has lessened even more. It comes down steadily but not heavily. The wind blows, but for the first time in a day, it doesn’t knock me off-balance when I step outside. The sky doesn’t seem nearly as oppressive and black either.