Page 89 of Trick of Light
“Bitter and out for revenge?”
“And the treasure. I think he believes that would be the ultimate revenge on the entire island, to walk off with the treasure everyone’s been talking about forever.”
Barnaby made another attempt to sit up, and this time, he managed it. He really needed to get himself together here. Tamara was in the hands of a bitter vengeful lunatic.
“So that’s why he brought you out here? To find the treasure?”
“Yes, but he was wrong. Tamara and I came up with a theory about where it’s buried, and that’s where he took her. I think it’s near her house, but we’re stuck here on this rock with zero cell service and no way to communicate.”
He gestured for her to help him get to his feet. Once he was upright, he gingerly tested his right leg. It hurt to put weight on it, but not the bone-deep hurt of a fracture, which he’d experienced before. “There should be a radio in the lighthouse. Let’s go look around.”
“I’ll look. You stay here. Just tell me what to look for.”
“Woman, I’m fine,” he grumbled as he limped across the grass. “If he has Tamara, you can fucking amputate my leg and I’m still going after him. That bastard was trying to frame her for all those poisonings. As soon as he finds that treasure he’ll kill her, I have no doubt. He blames her for Fiona’s?—”
“Abortion, I know. You must have run into Fiona, then? I was hoping she’d notify Luke that we’re out here.”
They stepped through the lighthouse door. He blinked to adjust to the relative dimness.
Barnaby had already thought about that. “I texted Luke that I was headed here in the Sea Siren. I’m sure he’ll get here soon.”
“Soon enough? Tamara’s all alone with that madman.”
Good point. He gazed around the empty lower floor of the lighthouse. All the control mechanisms must be up the spiral staircase that led to an upper floor. He didn’t look forward to that climb, but it had to be done. “We have to find the radio.”
He set out for the staircase, clenching his teeth against the pain. She hurried to join him, hovering just behind him as he gripped the railing. “What if there isn’t a radio?”
“There will be.” There had to be. There was probably some kind of Coast Guard regulation about that.
“Maybe there’s a way to interrupt the beam. Like throw something in front of the light source.”
“You mean, climb all the way to the lantern room?” At the bottom of the staircase, he craned his neck to look up at all the steps they’d have to take to reach the door that led to the outside maintenance walkway.
“Consider it a Plan B.”
He grunted in pain as he took the first step. “Radio first. If we can’t find one, we’ll consider your creative Plan B. It’d be a great podcast moment.”
“So we finally won you over to the podcast side,” she teased.
Bigger question…had he won her over? His words of love were still hanging out there. Alone on a ledge.
38
Gabby knew Barnaby was in pain. She felt every limp and wince as if it was her own body. But she also saw the way he blocked it out and focused on what needed to be done.
Side by side, with him leaning on her, they climbed the stairs to the second floor, where computer monitors and an array of instruments blinked at them. Barnaby zeroed in on a small radio marked with a piece of masking tape—Channel 65. “That’s the local emergency band. All the fishermen monitor it, and so does the Coast Guard,” he told her. “I used to listen to it and dream about joining up.”
“You’re a rescuer at heart, aren’t you?”
“I am,” he admitted with a grin. “I’d be happy as a paramedic or a firefighter. Instead I’m stuck managing Carmichael Inc.”
“You don’t have to be stuck,” she said as they limped toward the radio. “Why don’t you just hire someone to do all that?”
He gazed down at her with a one-sided smile that managed to be both rueful and accepting of his fate. “I’ve thought about it from all angles. Right now, it has to be me. I owe it to my siblings, even the felonious ones. Someone has to steer the ship in the right direction. It might not be my first choice of occupation, but on the bright side, I can shape the Carmichael legacy in a better way. I can make sure no one gives up on the Sea Smoke Island Fund. I can make sure we stay accountable. If someone else wants to take over some day, I’ll happily step down. In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about joining the island volunteer fire department. I can do that part time and feed my soul.”
She felt a wide smile come across her own face as her heart melted into a puddle. Maturity—the acceptance of his responsibility—combined with a way to channel his rescuer spirit was a powerful combination. “You’re an impressive man, Barnaby Carmichael.”
“Just hoping to keep up with you.” He pressed the button on the radio. “Testing, testing. We have an emergency situation here at the Lightkeeper Bay lighthouse. Two people stranded, one who requires medical attention. Mayday, mayday.”
