Not Quite Enough(44)

Jack hung up and offered Jessie a wan smile. “He still doesn’t know anything. He’s at the clinic where Monica was supposed to report to yesterday.”
“He’s not looking for her?” How can the people she knows here not be out searching?
“The authorities have been notified.”
That wasn’t good enough. She was about to voice her protest when a man approached them.
Jason shook the man’s hand with a familiar greeting. “Reynard. Please tell me you have something.”
Reynard glanced around the room, his eyes devoid of hope. “Let’s sit. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Jack pulled out a chair she had no desire to sit in and took one beside her.
Jason introduced Reynard as a friend of Trent’s and someone who was helping organize the relief organization and transportation on the island.
“My wife and I, our home was destroyed after the first quake. Trent asked us to bring our family to his home. He said he was going to leave the island in a few days. Kiki and I arrived yesterday, before noon. Your sister,” he said nodding to Jessie. “She was with Trent in his house. They said she would return to work last night. Trent informed me he would come home after.”
Jessie sat forward. “What happened?”
“Nothing. We’ve not seen or heard from them. They left with a lunch and a few things.”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “They went on a picnic?”
“Perhaps. My wife and I, we thought maybe we interrupted them…” His voice trailed off as he exchanged glances with the men.
Jack sighed and took Jessie’s hand. “I told you she was flustered around him.”
“OK, fine. I get it, they hooked up. Where would he take her to… hook up?” she asked Reynard.
“That’s just it, Mrs. Morrison, there is nowhere. The hotels are not accepting guests. Trent may have taken her to a lovers’ spot, but that could be anywhere.”
“It can’t be anywhere. It would have to be private. It would have to be close enough for her to return to the clinic by her shift.” Jessie started wringing her hands together.
“Where has the search initiated from?” Jack asked.
Reynard looked between the men. “We’ve traveled the road to the clinic several times and then to the hospital.”
“And?” That can’t be all they’ve done.
“Everyone is searching for others on the island, Mrs. Morrison—”
Jason slapped a hand on the table. “Are you saying that there is no search party?”
Reynard’s eyes grew wide. “Trent’s friends are searching.”
Jessie turned to her husband, her eyes pleading.


“You’ll fall and break your neck.” Damn foolish man and his idea to climb the wall. The cave wall without footholds or roots to hold on to or anything.
“I have to try.”
“So what, we can both be unable to walk? What will that accomplish, Barefoot?” Without the ability to strike an indignant pose, Monica settled for a superior tone. Deep down she was scared to death that he’d attempt to reach the top of the cave only to fall and break his damn neck. “You need a good dose of my fear of heights and you’d understand the risk.”
Trent was searching the walls of the cave, managed to get his toe into a crack or two only to have no other place to climb. All Monica could do was watch him pace the cavern like a caged lion and search for a way up.
The sun had come up to remind them the cave didn’t hold a lost passageway that either of them could crawl through. It held a pool of water two feet deep and five feet wide that both of them had needed to drink. It tasted like dirt, probably because it was nothing more than runoff from whatever foliage sat above them. It drained somewhere beneath the sand, evident when there had been a downfall of rain shortly after the sun rose and the pool splashed about but didn’t overfill.
“I can’t just sit here,” he said as he tried yet another wall.
“Oh, rub it in.”
He sent her a glare worthy of a father to a teenage daughter trying to leave the house with a miniskirt and a biker boyfriend.
Instead of saying anything, he took a running jump to try to grasp an outcropping of rocks that was several feet above his reach. On the third jump, he managed to grab hold and hang above the ground. Monica didn’t see any possible place for him to make his next move. Trent noticed something and reached for it only to lose his grip and fall to the ground with a thud.
Monica winced but he bounced back up to try again.
“I get it,” she yelled at him. “You want to be the hero. But dead heroes aren’t a lot of fun.” Her insides crawled with every jump.
Why couldn’t he see it was useless? Even if he managed to make it up ten, fifteen feet, there was nothing to grab ahold of at that point. Nothing.
If he fell…
Monica pushed herself up against the wall, using her back to inch into a standing position. The movement spread hot pain up her leg and made her head swim. For a brief moment, she thought she’d be sick to her stomach. She hoped to hell that was because of the pain and not because the water they were forced to drink was bad.
Trent hadn’t noticed her stand and was still trying to climb a vertical wall without a rope.
She hopped on her good leg, using the wall for support. Monica needed to prove his foolishness to him. Damn testosterone brain. With one hand on the wall and the other gripping her scrub pants to hold her injured leg, she closed her eyes and tried to hop again.
“Crap!” she yelled when the movement made that white pain turn molten.