Page 19 of The Pretender

Up on tiptoes, she crept through the bedroom to the patio doors. The move put her out of the sight line from the living room area. Before she pressed on the handle, she slipped into the bathroom and turned on the light. Came back out but left the light on. In terms of subterfuge it wasn’t perfect but at least seeing the light on might make Harris think she was in there, if he woke up too early.

She opened the outside door just far enough to sneak out. The wind smacked into her the second she stepped onto the patio. She fought to catch her breath and pushed through.

Her uncle had taken the shovel she’d brought to the island. As if she couldn’t grab another one. A quick visit with Kramer today provided the solution. The man had a tool for every project and a few she’d never seen before.

She turned the corner of the guesthouse and dropped down to balance on the balls of her feet. Digging through the bushes, she spotted Kramer’s rusty shovel just where she dropped it earlier. Only the constant worry of being seen this afternoon prolonged this errand. Now she had the quiet and the shovel. She’d hit the switch that turned off the motion sensor lights out here, which let her move around in the dark, hopefully unnoticed.

A glance back at the guesthouse confirmed that everything remained quiet there. No lights. No movements. No Harris.

Moving faster now, she walked over to the rock retaining wall that separated this part of the property from the small hill that led up to the gazebo then over to the boathouse. Plants and flowers lined the area. Bursts of purple and white dotted the carpet of green.

She didn’t need to dig it all up, didn’t even have to disturb the plants. The middle section of the retaining wall was her target. Slipping in between the branches of the low-lying bushes, she stepped around the flowers and slid her palm over the uneven rock wall.

She’d skipped the flashlight, which now seemed like a terrible idea. Straining to see by the faint nightlight from the boathouse in the distance, she squinted and felt her way around, searching for loose grout.

She was half sitting in the bush now with one knee in the dirt. She clawed against the stone and jammed the edge of the shovel into one of the cracks. The clunking sounded so loud in her ears, but she knew it barely amounted to scraping.

When the wall didn’t give under the pressure, she pushed harder. Whacked the stone as hard as she could. A chunk of stone plopped into the dirt. She slipped her fingers into the opening. This was the space she remembered, a malformed square of about three-by-three inches.

She patted her hand on the cold stone. Touched every surface. When she didn’t feel anything, she figured she needed to go deeper into the stone. She shoved the sharp end of the shovel in the hole and moved it around. Still nothing.

She fell back on her butt. The cold ground seeped through her thin sweats but she didn’t move. She couldn’t feel anything.

The papers were gone. The map. Everything.

Explanations whirled in her mind. Maybe she was at the wrong place. Maybe someone else found them... but why? If the investigators had found something, she’d know by now. There was no reason for anyone to dig in a random spot behind a bush on an isolated island.

Thoughts tumbled through her until she hit on the most obvious one—someone had the documents she’d tried so hard to hide.

She scrambled to her knees. The gagging started a second later. She fought it back. Inhaled deeply as she tried to trick her body into calming down.

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that. The shivering snapped her out of her lethargy. The cold had soaked into her, from the air and the ground.

Forcing her muscles to work, she pushed up. She stood there, half swaying as her brain misfired. She needed to come up with a next step, a new place to search, but nothing came to her. Strategy, plans... She’d gone completely blank.

Somehow she stumbled back to the patio and stepped inside the guesthouse again. Stripping as she walked across the bedroom, she fell across the bed, turning her head just in time so she could stare at the pale gray wall. Her focus blurred but her heart rate refused to slow down. The beat pounded in her chest.

She had no idea what to do next.

Harris opened his eyes the second he heard the near soundless thump of the door closing behind Gabby twenty minutes ago. He’d been sneaking in and out of houses long enough to recognize the signs. He could analyze every noise without opening his eyes.

Watching her move around out there hadn’t provided any insight. She dug and grew more frantic as her hands moved faster in the dirt and rocks. Finally, she’d slumped over. At one point he thought she’d throw up, but she pulled herself together.

Now she lay on the bed fifteen feet away. Her heavy breaths—almost pants—filled the guesthouse. He doubted she even knew she’d made a sound. But all that scrambling... He had no idea what that was about. She’d clearly expected to find something out there and didn’t.

For the first time since he heard her cries fourteen months ago, he doubted her. Her anxiety hadn’t died down. It nearly choked the air out of the room. But this woman carried deep secrets.

He lifted his head and stared into the dark bedroom. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light while he slunk around the house spying on her wanderings outside. Even with his back plastered against the wall, he’d been able to peek out the window and follow her movements. She was still now. She hadn’t moved since she’d flopped down.

He should drift off to sleep and worry about this tomorrow. She thought she’d pulled off her big covert mission. It was tempting to let her believe that.

That was the right answer... “Gabby?”

He saw her body stiffen. She didn’t lift her head or make a sound.

He said the only words in his mind. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

Almost two minutes passed without a response. He lay back down and put a hand underneath his pillow. Regret punched into him. He should have shut up and kept up the ruse that she’d conned him. He’d pushed this one too far.

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