Sadie eyed the river. “How often does it flood?”
“About once every three or four years.”
As they headed back, Irma’s words echoed in Sadie’s mind. She’d have to be vigilant. A flood would ruin her plans.
“Thanks for the walk,” she said when they returned to Infinity Cabin.
Irma squinted at her. “You’re too young to be cooped up inside, dear. Life is meant for living. Don’t forget that.” With a wave, she puttered off down the path.
For the rest of the afternoon, Sadie worked on editing the manuscript for Going Batty. Until her laptop died. Frowning, she pushed it aside and made a mental note to go into town the next day to charge the battery.
Supper was a generous chef salad with shredded Canadian cheddar and bacon bits. Seated on the sofa in front of the fireplace, she thought of Philip. He would have been appalled if she had made a salad for supper. He was a meat and potatoes man. Take-out was bad enough. And God forbid if they didn’t eat at the dining room table like normal people.
A mischievous grin crossed her face. “To hell with normal.”
Once the dishes were washed, she stretched out on the sofa and stared into the flames. It was hard to resist the impulse to dive right in. In one hand, she held her cell phone. In the other, a glass of rum and cola.
“You can do this. Just one drink tonight.”
First, she called her parents. They were concerned about her, naturally, but she assured them that she was taking a little holiday and getting lots of rest.
“Well, you sound okay,” her father said.
Strangely enough, she felt okay. In fact, her mind had never been clearer.
“I love you, Dad. Mom too.”
After a few words with her mother, she hung up and stared at the drink in her hand, swirling it leisurely.
“One more call,” she said, gulping back the last mouthful.
But she just couldn’t dial the number.
Half an hour later, she finished off her third glass, then made the call. After explaining to the man on the other end that her call was urgent—a family matter—she was put on hold while a guard located Philip and escorted him to the phone.
“Sadie? I was wondering when you’d—”
“I just wanted to tell you that you won’t be able to contact me for a while, Philip. I don’t have electricity.”
“What do you mean? Where are you?”
She took a long, thoughtful sip of her drink.
Where was she? Nowhere.
“Sadie, are you all right?”
She stared at Sam’s photo. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I heard you took my car.” His voice was tight, measured.
“How the heck—? You talked to Leah. Why?”
“It doesn’t matter why. Listen, Sadie. I left some important documents in the trunk. Do you think you can pack them up in a box and mail them to me right away?”
“Sure,” she said, miffed. “Next time I drive into town.”
“Damn, I almost forgot. There’s a problem with the starter.”
“The starter?”
“On the car. If it goes you’ll have to take it in to a shop.”
There was a long pause.
“Sadie, do you need—?”
“No. I don’t need anything. I have to go now.”
“Wait! Tell me where you—”
“My cell’s dying,” she lied. “Bye, Philip.”
She hung up on him, wondering why she had called him in the first place. Maybe so he wouldn’t file a missing person’s report or send someone after her. She was tempted to call Leah, give her a piece of her mind. But courage wasn’t her middle name.
In the end, she found comfort in another glass of rum.
No mix.
A bird screeched beyond the bedroom window, without a care for the occupant inside. As the raucous chatter found its way into Sadie’s restless dreams, she rolled onto her stomach and dragged the blanket over her head.
“Cawww!”
“Shut up!”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she moaned and scrunched her face. Her head throbbed, as if crushed in a vice. She threw back the blanket and when she opened her aching eyes, she was relieved to find that the bedroom was pitch black, except for a faint glow from the battery-operated clock on the nightstand. The double-backed curtains in the window were a godsend. But they didn’t muffle the bird’s incessant squawking.
She sat up on her elbows and glared at the clock.
“Two in the morning? You’ve got to be kidding.”
Another shriek brought her stumbling to her feet.
“Okay, enough already!”
She lit the lamp, then strode toward the window, intending to shoo the irksome pest away. Hooking a finger between the drapes, she inched them back and was startled by the darkness that loomed beyond. What freaked her out most were the two black eyes on the other side of the glass.
The crow—the same one from last night—stared at her.
“Get lost!” She knuckled the window, but the bird didn’t move. “Jesus! What’s with you?”
Another shriek from the crow. Then its beak struck the glass.
Tap! Tap!
She resisted the urge to strangle the damned thing. Barely.
“Don’t tempt me, you black-feathered minion.”
She was about to step away from the window when something shifted in the bushes near the back stairs.
“There is someone out there.”
Instantly, she was dead sober. She strode into the living room where she slipped into her jacket and boots. Then she tiptoed to the sliding door.
“Spy on me, will ya. I don’t think so.”
The door slid open unhindered and she stepped out onto the veranda, accompanied by a flashlight and an iron fire poker. She waited. Then she took a tentative step forward and the beam of light swept across an object near her foot.
A card-sized white envelope.
She picked it up and examined it. It was blank. No address, no stamp, nothing. Cautiously, she opened it, but it was empty.
She thought of the chocolate bar in the cooler.
“What the heck’s going on?”
Someone giggled nearby.
Sadie flicked off the flashlight. There was enough light from a slice of moon and its reflection off the river that she could see her way down the steps to the grass below. She crept around to the back door, sticking close to the side of the cabin. Her boots made quiet crunching sounds, and she held her breath, hoping that whoever was out there wouldn’t hear. Even in the crisp night air, her palms grew sweaty and it became difficult to hold the poker handle. She almost dropped it, twice.
She paused, listening.
There was a faint rustle of foliage not far from where she stood. Then a quicksilver flash of white whipped through the trees.
The ghost child from last night?
She moved onward with reckless persistence, one boot planted in front of the other. When the ground dipped, she lurched forward, her foot hovering for a second in midair. Thrown off balance, she hooked an arm around a tree trunk, spinning around it in a half-circle, like a square dancer at a barn dance.
Catching her breath, she squinted into the dark.
Where are you, damn it?
Then she saw the child—if that’s what it was—half hidden by a tree. Crouching low, Sadie waited until the white shape moved away before dashing toward the woods. She made it without mishap and leaned against a tree.
“This is crazy,” she scolded herself. “What are you doing?”
She covered her mouth, partly to muffle the sound but also to hide the mist her breath was making. Her heart thumped in her chest so loudly she was sure it could be heard.
The white shape was just ahead.
Guided by the moonlight, Sadie continued through the trees.