Island of Lost Girls - Jennifer McMahon [37]
Her father was still in love with Aggie. He was secretly married to her. Maybe, just maybe, her mother and father werent really married at all. There were no wedding photos. No proof. And if her parents werent really married, what were they? And where did that leave her?
Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Had her father followed her to explain, to make up some lie that was supposed to make her feel better when shed just seen the truth with her own eyes?
Go away, she said, not looking up.
What happened? The voice was not her fathers. It was Peters.
Rhonda kept her face against the ground, wondering what to tell him.
You tore out of there like someone was trying to kill you, he said.
Rhonda sat up, still not daring to look at Peter. If she looked, he might be able to see it in her face; hed somehow know what shed seen.
Ronnie, talk to me, he said.
But what could she say?I just saw your mom making out with my dad? The very thought of it made her feel guilty, like it was her fault somehow.
Rhonda cleared her throat. I wonder how she died.
What? Who?
Hattie, Rhonda said, running her fingers over the name on the marker. She was seven years old.
I dont know, Peter said. It could have been anything, I guess. Back then, you died if you, like, stubbed yourtoe .
Its just really sad, Rhonda said, and she began to cry again. Peter turned her to face him and held her, stroking her hair.
Shhh. Its okay. You know what I think? he asked. I think I shouldnt have given you that rum punch. It made things all topsy-turvy.
I guess, Rhonda said.
Come here, he said, lifting her chin. And then he kissed her. A gentle, dry kiss on the forehead. Then another, just as gentle, on her lips.
You know youre my girl, right? he asked quietly. She nodded. She hadnt known that she knewbut she knew. She felt very still inside. She reached up and touched the crown of leaves he was still wearing. And then, over his shoulder, she saw it: Lizzy crouched behind a tombstone, watching them. Feeling suddenly guilty and caught, Rhonda pulled away from Peter and said theyd better get back to the party.
JUNE 14 & 15, 2006
THE WROUGHT-IRON FENCEthat surrounded Martin Cemetery was rusted and leaning. The front gate hung open and was guarded on either side by two gnarled hydrangea bushes still covered with the crispy brown bunches of last years flowers. Out-of-control lilacs lined the front of the cemetery. Rhonda drove her car up into the little pull-off in front of the gate and looked at the drawing in Warrens hand.Rabbit Island.
This is it! Im sure of it. Look at the neat rows of stones. The way the black fence goes all the way around. And its the perfect place to bring a kid. Its isolated, but not far from the school. No one ever comes by here. And even if they did, you cant see through the bushes. Rhonda bounded out of the car and through the gate, Warren behind her, clutching the drawing like a treasure map.
The air was thick with the sweet, heady scent of lilacs. Crickets sang. The grass needed to be cut and was full of red clover. Bees flew drunkenly from flower to flower, filling the cemetery with the sound of their low, droning buzz.
Damn, he said. Youre right. Look at these hills in the background. And that row of pines there. This is definitely the place! So what now?
We look around, I guess.
For what?
A clue. Evidence. I dont know, something to go to Crowley with.
Warren headed off across the cemetery, Ernies drawing in hand. Rhonda stood for a minute, scanning the landscape, squinting, trying to imagine she was a little girl whod just landed her sub on Rabbit Island.
The stones were