The Water Keeper(67)

I continued with my story. “When I said that, her fingers spread and intertwined with mine.” I held up my hand, fingers spread. “This silly hand gesture started there. It became the fabric of us. Our thing. It was how we remembered the moment. We could be in a crowd of people, loud music, chatter, and all she had to do was touch my fingertip with hers, and immediately we were back in that water. Sitting on that beach. Her and me. Us against the world. Then it wasn’t so silly anymore.

“And that morning as the sun rose, we walked the beach. Hand in hand. Maybe the most perfect sunrise in the history of the sun rising. With the water foaming over our ankles, the sun hit the beach and shone on something at the water’s edge. I lifted it. A silver cross. Washed up by the same flood tide that had ripped her seven miles out to sea. It was hanging by a leather lace. I tied the lace in a square knot and hung it around her neck. It came to rest flat across her heart. She leaned against me, pressing her ear to my heart. Beneath the waves rolling gently next to us, she whispered, ‘If I ever find myself lost, will you come find me?’

“I nodded. ‘Always.’

“She wrapped her arms around me, kissed me—which almost made my heart stop—and said, ‘Promise?’

“‘I do.’”

When I turned around, Ellie was staring up at me. Summer sat beneath the T-top, wiping tears. Ellie tried to harden her voice, but my story had knocked the edges off of it. “Why’re you telling me this?”

“Because finding people is what I do.”

“Whatever happened to Marie?”

I was quiet a minute. Shook my head.

She pressed me. “What happened?”

“She died.”

Ellie swallowed. Summer held back a sob.

I tried to return us to the moment. “I know it’s hard and that I’m asking you to be older than you are, but I think I have some experience with Key West. I know that convent. Least I think I’ve seen it. Hang in there a few more days. I’ll take you there. We’ll go together.”

Disbelief drained down her face. “Why would you do that?”

“Whoever put that ring in this envelope is trying to send you a message—” Just then, my phone rang. Colorado. I answered, “Hey.”

“Your girl is awake. Asking for you.”

“Where’d they take her?”

“ICU. Same hospital.”

I was about to hang up when I looked at Ellie. I turned, speaking quietly. “Hey . . .”

“Yeah?”

I asked him, “Do you know something I don’t? Something about me?” He heard my question in the tone of my voice. I’d seldom used it with him.

“I know a lot you don’t.”

“I’m asking you something specific. If you knew it, it’d come to mind.”

“What I hear in my confessional stays there.”

“You’re gonna pull that with me? After all we’ve—”

“Doctors say she’s going to need a few months to recover, but she will. The Narcan you injected probably saved her life.”

Water lapped against the hull of the boat. For some reason, all I could think of in that moment was Angel. I could hear the clock ticking. “I’ll be in touch.”

I hung up and turned to Ellie. She was staring at the ring and shaking her head. “What message?”

I knew her world was crumbling and I didn’t know how to answer. “Stay. A few days. A week maybe. We’ll go together. Maybe we can figure it out. Then if you like, I’ll put you on a plane. Deal?”

She took her time considering this, finally nodding. Quietly, she folded the letter and sat on the back bench. Alone. Turning the ring on her finger. Staring at it with each turn. It occurred to me that it might be the first piece of real jewelry she ever owned.





Chapter 30


Gunner heard us coming and charged out of the hospital room, his nails scratching the polished floor. He tackled me in the hall. The strength of his excited licking and tail-wagging told me he desperately wanted out of that hospital. Clay was sitting up when I walked in. Whatever they’d given him had worked. He looked ten years younger. He stood up. “If you’re waiting on me, you’re backing up.”

I sat next to him. “How you feeling?”

“Better. I’m good. You?”

“I need a few minutes, but collect your stuff. We’ll be on the water in an hour.”

“I like the sound of that.” He cleared his throat. “I need to talk with you when you get a second.”

“Is it urgent?”

“It can wait.”

Summer and I exited the elevator on the ICU floor, and I showed my clergy credentials to the nurse. She read them and showed us to the girl’s room. A deputy stood guard. The doctor was leaving when we walked up. I told him who I was, and he briefed me on her condition, which was stable but still bad. She’d either ingested, injected, or been given some form of opioid and then a fatal dose of hallucinogenic drugs. He ended by saying, “Nobody takes that recipe or that amount unless they want to check out. Hence—” He glanced at the deputy. He rubbed his hands together. “Although there is a chance someone else gave it to her.”

The room was dim. Lit only by screens and little blue, green, and red lights. An IV had been inserted into each arm. Her pulse was slow but steady, and while low, her pressure was stable. Her eyes were heavy. When we came in, her head turned and her right hand flipped over, inviting mine.