Virals(82)

The rest of the entry had washed away.

"Bald eagle." Ben pumped his fist. "Told you."

"Cole Island?" Shelton's face scrunched in thought. "There aren't any bald eagles on Cole Island. Hell, there aren't any trees on Cole, much less eagles. The only thing out there is a factory."

"This was written in 1969," Hi reminded him. "Things have changed since then. Some moron probably clear-cut the trees."

Data bytes connected in my brain.

"Oh no." My hands flew to my mouth. "Oh damn!"

"What's wrong?" Hi asked.

Ben and Shelton just stared.

"Don't you guys see?" It all made sense. Brutal, tragic sense.

"See what?" Ben asked.

"I know why Katherine Heaton was killed."

You could have heard the proverbial pin drop.

For a moment I was overwhelmed by the terrible truth I'd discovered. I couldn't speak.

"Well?" Hi crossed his arms. "Enlighten us, Agent Scully."

"Katherine found an endangered species on Cole Island," I said. "And not just any species. She found bald freaking eagles! The symbol of America."

"So?" All three at once.

"Heaton's discovery would've been a big deal," I said. "It was the hippie sixties. Everyone was suddenly into saving the Earth. Protecting habitats was a hot topic."

"But that's a good thing." Shelton was clearly perplexed. "I don't follow."

I paced, thinking out loud. "Maybe someone was unhappy to learn that an endangered species was living on Cole Island."

"An eagle colony would cause problems if the owners wanted to develop the land," Ben said. "Displacing or killing the birds would cause mucho bad press."

"Or maybe the birds were being raised illegally," Shelton suggested. "It's against the law to own or sell a bald eagle without a permit."

"And killing an eagle is a crime," I said. "The law even protects their nests."

"Guys," Hi interrupted. "I found more writing. Last page. There's an entry at the top, then some chicken scratch at the bottom."

I tapped Hi's shoulder. He screwed his mouth sideways, but stepped back. I moved to the table and read to the group: Only two more places to survey. Maybe I'll find more eagles? That'd be groovy! But then I'm done. Some guy has been showing up everywhere I go. I've never seen him before. He gives me the creeps. Maybe I've spent too much time on remote beaches! Kiawah Island, then the Morris Light. Then, sayonara!





"Oh, Lord." Hi looked sick. "Oh, God. That's awful."

"She was being followed," I whispered, overwhelmed by sadness. "Why didn't she go straight home?"

"What about the last part?" Ben asked. "At the bottom?"

"It's harder to make out." I repositioned the lamp. "Looks like the same hand, but shakier."

I read the short entry to myself. Read it again.

This time I couldn't stop them. Tears overran my lower lids and rolled down my cheeks.

"And?" Hi asked.

I didn't reply.

"Tory?" Shelton's hand found my shoulder. "What does it say?"

I stepped aside. The others watched me, confused. Then Shelton moved to the table and read aloud: I think someone is below. I don't know who it is, but I'm afraid. No one should be out here but me. I'm going to stash my journal just in case. Maybe I can hide.





My mind went numb with grief. I closed my eyes. No good. I kept seeing those final words written by that trembling hand.

I heard Ben punch the wall. Hi shift his feet. Shelton lift a hand to his earlobe. I was aware of these things, but apart. Adrift.

I imagined Katherine's final moments as she scribbled that last terrified entry. I saw her rush to hide the journal, then turn to face her stalker. I felt her despair as she realized she was trapped high atop a deserted lighthouse. Alone. With no way out.

Katherine Heaton was murdered in the loneliest place on earth.

I palmed tears from my face, devastated, revolted. The scene in my head was so real, it seemed I was there.

I didn't want to cry. I wanted to cry forever.

Then, I got angry. White-hot furious.

Okay. Go with it. Rage will work better than grief.

I despised whoever had done this. A soulless monster walked the streets free, thinking he'd gotten away with it. Callous. Smug. Untroubled by guilt.

I renewed my vow to Katherine. To myself. I will catch this killer. Expose him. Bring him to justice.

Make him pay.





CHAPTER 60


I woke early the next morning, on fire with an idea.

First things first.

Cooper.

A ten-minute hike brought me to Morris Island's western shore. I checked my bearings, located the ladder bunker, and climbed inside.

Coop yelped when he saw me, tail wagging out of control. Popping up on his back paws, he tried to lick my face.

I snuggled his head, drank in his warm puppy smell. Then I grabbed his rope and challenged him to a tug o' war. He accepted with vigor.

For a few minutes, my problems receded. Coop was bigger now, strong enough to roam free. Thankfully, he restricted himself to the uninhabited western side of the island. No one in our neighborhood had reported sighting a stray wolfdog. Yet. Coop needed a permanent home, pronto.