Page 55 of Strangers She Knows

“Kellen, let’s give it a little more time.” He leaned in, all big brown eyes and warm persuasion. “Let’s wait until we get a report that Mara’s coming for us.”

“What if we don’t get the report in time?”

“We have to trust that Diana will surface to send us a warning. We have to trust law enforcement. They have a lot at stake.”

“Not as much as we do!”

“Just a few more days,” Max pleaded. “Let Rae be an innocent a little longer.”

Kellen surrendered, not to the logic, but to the appeal. “When she finds out, she is going to be angry.”

“If everything goes as planned, she will never find out.”

20

Rae rode her bike as hard and as fast as she could, away from her father and mother and that creepy house where it was all boring with nothing to do and weird music played and a white lady came into her bedroom and no one believed her, and she had to escape like a prisoner whenever she wanted to go somewhere. Like there was even somewhere to go.

She pointed the bike at the Conkles’ house. It was five miles downhill all the way, so that was easy riding, and she conveniently forgot she’d have to ride uphill all the way back.

In this distance, Jamie Conkle’s greenhouse glinted in the sun, and as Rae got closer, she could see swathes of plants inside. The Di Lucas had installed a greenhouse at Yearning Sands Resort, but the gardener was strict about humidity and grow lights, and she wasn’t allowed inside. This place was unguarded, and the Di Lucas owned the island. They owned everything on the island, so surely she could go into the greenhouse. She parked her bike, set the kickstand. It fell over. She left it and opened the glass door, and tip-toed inside.

It was warm, sunny, really warm, really sunny. Long rows of raised beds boasted feathery carrot fronds and tall tomato plants loaded with red and yellow fruit. The greenhouse smelled of rose and thyme, basil and parsley. Rae loved plants. She loved vegetables. She loved this place. She crept along the rows, brushing her hands over the—the cucumber plants had prickly leaves. “Ow!”

“What are you doing in here?”

Rae jumped and spun.

Jamie Conkle advanced down the aisle toward Rae. She was tall and full-bosomed, with dark eyes and dark hair, and she glared like a witch on Halloween. She seemed not to care that Rae was a Di Luca and the Di Lucas owned the island. Jamie was mad, and she acted like she ownedeverything. “You can’t be in here.”

“I wanted to see… I like the plants and…”

“I don’t care. I don’t care! This is my place. My island. I keep it. I protect it. I made my man come here. I made him live here. He complains. He wants to go back to the life on the mainland, with those Californians and the bacon-eaters and the, the people who eat apples that have been sprayed with—” Jamie acted as if Rae’s life in Washington made her a pariah, some creature who carried disease to infect the greenhouse and the island.

Rae turned and ran. Up one aisle, down another aisle. She found a door, opened it and ran out into the fresh air. She was crying. She didn’t want to be crying. Everyone liked her. Why didn’t this lady?

She glanced back. Jamie was still after her, moving swiftly.

With seconds to spare, Rae grabbed her bike, mounted and rode as fast as she could down the road. Toward the beach. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jamie come out of the greenhouse and stare balefully after her.

She hated today. She hated everything about it. As soon as she was out of sight, she slowed down. Through that pile of boulders was a path down to a beach, and that’s where she wanted to be. There she could throw herself down, and cry and scream, and no one would care. Not like anyone cared anyway… She dropped her bike onto its side in the grass and ran through the boulders, down the cliff and onto the hot white sands. She stared at the waves.

Her lifesucked.

She was stuck on this island with herparents.

She had no friends.

She missed her grandma.

She had pimples on her nose.

She needed a bra.

She hated everyone.

“Hello.”

Rae jumped and turned to see a woman who was about her mom’s size, medium-tall, black hair and blue eyes, dressed in knee-length khaki shorts, sleeveless shirt and hiking boots. She looked fit: bare arms and legs tanned and well muscled. She held a clipboard and had a pencil behind her ear.

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