Hastily she shut the door.
Holy smokes. How long had all that been in there?
She must have squeaked, because Max pulled his head out of the engine compartment. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She caught sight of a movement just inside the door.
Mara.
No. Not Mara.
Dylan Conkle, grinning guiltily.
“Dylan. What are you doing?” She rested her cool gaze on him. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him sneaking around to listen to their conversations.
“I, um, came up to mow the lawn and Ibrought the food basket.” He put it down in the corner and sidled farther into the garage. “What’re you doing? Trying to get the old truck running?”
Rae answered. “We’re not trying. We’re going to do it.”
“Right. Sure.” Dylan’s voice had that patronizing tone people got when talking to kids. “You’re daddy’s little helper, aren’t you?”
He got close enough to the truck that Max, who had been watching him, asked, “What have you been drinking? Have you been making your own liquor?”
Dylan reversed his path, backing slowly away. “Not really. I mean…yeah, maybe. It’s like a craft beer thing only with grains. Very respectable.”
“Don’t drink that stuff until after you’ve delivered the basket.” Max looked him right in the eyes. “You don’t have a tough job. You might want to keep it.”
Dylan’s smile faded. He turned and scurried away, and his departure left a profound silence in the garage.
Max grimaced. “He’s going to kill himself or get fired, and I don’t know which will come first.”
One thing Dylan’s sudden appearance had shown Kellen—although Mara had not been a continuous, sentient fear, her subconscious had been on the lookout all the time they’d been here. She looked at the refrigerator, then at the empty doorway where Dylan had stood. Picking up Ruby’s diary, she asked brightly, “Want me to continue with Ruby’s story?”
“Yes!” Rae said.
“Go for it,” Max said.
Kellen read, “‘My brother is dead.’”
“Oh, no. Poor Ruby!” Rae sounded sad for the woman she had never met.
“Poor brother,” Max said.
Kellen started again…
13
My brother is dead. With his bullying and his demands for perfection, Father drove Alexander away. Alexander joined the Navy and Father cut him off without a dime. He has been writing me and my dear Hermione has been gathering the letters before Father could confiscate them.
Kellen stopped reading.
Rae craned her neck around to look at her mother.
“What?” Max asked.
“Ruby didn’t like Hermione,” Rae told her father.
“Something must have happened.” Kellen hooked her finger in the diary. “We can be sure no one likes Mr. Morgade, so Hermione wouldn’t, either. Ruby sounds charming, and she and Hermione are close to the same age and the only young women on the island—”