Page 114 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

“Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Cole rose to his feet. “We have to get to Windjammer Bank. We have to report this to the authorities.”

“And we will. But tonight, there’s nothing we can do, so there’s no point in getting worked up. Stress ages you.”

How could Bella stay so calm? Soeerilycalm?

“A man is in danger if he’s not already dead.”

“What do you suggest we do? Swim there?”

They couldn’t. It was twice as far as the island they’d been abandoned on, and if they tried to swim north, the current would push them to the west. Plus they hadn’t eaten well enough to attempt a ten-mile swim. Mangoes and coconuts and the occasional sea cucumber would keep them alive until help came—assuming Frankie was able to roust the coastguard—but they wouldn’t be running any marathons. Maybe he could try catching something more substantial in the morning? One of the old-timers had shown him how to fish for octopus with a stick. Or perhaps they could use a length of the paracord and Bella’s dive knife to make a spear?

“I hate feeling helpless,” he told Bella.

“Me too. But help will be here sooner than you think. Let’s go inside and get some sleep.”

Sleep? How could he sleep?

But he let Bella lead him into the barracks, where they picked out the least musty room available. He’d be of no use to anybody if he didn’t keep up his strength.

CHAPTER 40

JEZEBEL

Fuck Demelza, fuck this island, fuck Witt and Clint and Jon.

Fuck this cast.

Fuck these stupid feelings that kept sucking me deeper and deeper into Cole’s orbit.

I climbed—carefully—onto the pile of nightstands and hoisted myself onto the barracks’ roof, then set about changing “HELP” to “BEAR.” If Echo thought I’d drawn a lion, she and Tulsa would have a good laugh and leave me here for some “alone time” before they sent a boat.

Changing the H to a B was easy enough, but changing the L to an A? Not so straightforward. When I tried to erase the line at the bottom of the L, the stones all mixed together into a greyish mess. And I couldn’t stand up properly in case Cole saw me messing around where I wasn’t supposed to be.

He’d gone down to the beach to catch dinner, so he said, but I hadn’t seen anything tasty in the water there yesterday. Which meant more slippery, bland sea cucumber. At least it was a source of protein. Cole planned to make a spear and try for fish, and if he lost mydive knife, I’d be a little irritated. That was an understatement.

I waved at the sky in case Echo was watching—I had no idea which time zone she was in, but she barely slept so there was a slim chance she’d see me—and carried on scraping at the stones. If Cole came up to the roof again for any reason, I’d have some explaining to do, but?—

Wait.

Had Echo seen the bear?

I heard the buzz of an engine in the distance, and it was getting closer. Not a merchant ship, but something smaller and faster, like one of the RIBs we used occasionally on operations. Definitely not theCrosswind—the sound was higher in pitch. If this was the Choir, I’d kiss Echo.

No, I wouldn’t. She’d hate that.

But I would fly to Paris and buy her a family-sized box of macarons.

Right after I came up with a cover story for Cole. Maybe we could say they were influencers on a scouting expedition? The girls would go along with it, of course they would, but he wasn’t stupid. The chances of success also depended on who came with the boat. If Dusk, Dice, or Tulsa showed up, the story wouldn’t wash because he’d seen them at the Sunrise Diner.

The engine noise grew louder, and there was no doubt the vessel was heading in the direction of Skeleton Cay. I looked east, standing on tiptoe, and caught sight of a small white sport-fishing boat skipping over the waves. Not a government visit, then. I tried to see who was on board, but the sun glinting off the water blinded me.

Perhaps they were just in the area to fish? Or poach? If that was the issue, we needed to lie low until they were gone. Alone, I might have been tempted to borrow their boat, but Cole would probably frown upon my methods.

I was about to jump off the roof and hop-skip-jog to theharbour when he started jumping around like a cricket on crack and yelling for help.

Fuck my damn life.

---