Until the Day I Die(85)

The then is simple: Sabine and Arch need to get Mom out of the way.

I can’t even think about the else, it’s too upsetting. But I can’t help feeling that there’s something more. Some piece of the puzzle I’m still missing. That last bit of information I can’t put my finger on. I keep mentally reaching out, trying to clear my head and balance the equation. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to until I put some distance between me and my grandfather.

And something is niggling at me. I pick up my phone and stare at it. Strange that I just now got this message from some dude I’ve never seen in my life. A coincidence that happens once in a while—bots request connections—but Jax is pretty on top of that kind of thing. Our programs usually weed out the spam. But you know what they say about coincidences. They’re all part of an improbable whole.

I grab the phone and tap on Lach Erdman’s message request. Hit “Approve” and read it once, then again, my heart hammering against my chest and my mouth going dry.

Shorie, it’s Mom. Someone is trying to kill me. This is not a joke. Call the police. Not Saint Lucia police, the FBI. Hurry.

I stare and stare, waiting for the words to shift and reconfigure themselves into something that makes more sense. But they don’t. Nothing changes. Just those same horrible words, over and over again.

So I was right. It is the worst case, after all—someone is trying to kill my mom. And somehow, thank God, she must’ve gotten this guy Lachlan Erdman’s phone and used his Jax to contact me.

With shaking fingers, I type back: Where are you? But there’s no answer. I chew on my thumbnail, thinking, then type one more line. Mom, I’m here, on Ile St. Sigo. Just tell me where you are, I’ll get help.

I dial 911 and wait for the connection.

“What’s your emergency?” a woman finally says on the other end.

“Shorie?”

Arch is standing at the table, and I disconnect the call. He slides his phone into his pocket and sits. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

I stare at him, my throat constricting even further.

“I called the woman who runs Hidden Sands. The spa where your mother’s been. It seems she left a couple of days ago.”

“She left?”

He nods. “Yes. Apparently, she took the ferry back to Saint Lucia, and no one’s heard from her since.”

I shake my head dumbly. “She went back to Saint Lucia? I don’t understand.”

“The director of the resort didn’t know, exactly. She just said your mom seemed to be happy, complying with all the rules of the rehab, and then a couple of days ago, she didn’t show up for breakfast.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Shorie, your mom is a very troubled woman, I think. I’m sure she was upset about us sending her away, but instead of handling it in a responsible, adult way, she ran. I’m so sorry. I would do anything to spare you this disappointment. But I’m afraid we’ve got to accept that your mother isn’t the person she used to be.”

“You think she didn’t just leave Hidden Sands. You think she left us?”

He laces his fingers together and looks down at them. “I don’t know.”

His face is so grave, so full of sympathy, that I think I’m going to vomit. It is a lie. He’s lying to me. Mom is here on this island, and she needs my help.

And he knows it.

“I suggest we head back to the ferry, go back to Saint Lucia, and see if we can get a return flight back home.”

“Okay,” I say faintly. I feel like I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m going to pass out. “I have to use the bathroom.” I rise unsteadily.

“Shorie.” He nods at my computer bag. “I’ll watch that for you.”

I pull the strap over my head and drop the bag on my chair. He catches my wrist and pulls me to him, kissing my clenched fist.

“Love you, June bug.”

I smile and pull away. I walk toward the back of the restaurant, into the kitchen, and out the back door.





48

ERIN

The path angles up steeply, slowing Lach and me down. We push through the underbrush and along twisting paths until I’m out of breath and bathed in sweat. Every tree and bush and rock looks the same, and I’m so unbelievably hot. I’m also starting to feel woozy, like I may pass out. I stop, swaying a little against a tree. Lach turns back with a frown.

“It’s been two days, and I’ve barely had anything to eat.” My hand falls against my pocket, covering the phone. It feels like it’s as big as a concrete block. “And may I point out, if I die from thirst, then you’ve got nothing left to bargain with.”

Lach tosses me his water bottle. I drink half, then he takes it back. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Can I just say, I think taking me to the volcano is a bad move. You’re basically telling Antonia that you expect her to give in to your demands.”

He doesn’t answer.

“You’re not playing this smart, Lach. You’re saying you think she’s going to cave, agree to find your son, and that you’re ready to kill me, like she wants you to. You’re insulting her and she’s going to lose respect for you.”

He shakes his head, like he’s shaking off a swarm of pesky bees.