Page 73 of Strangers She Knows

Kellen interrupted him. “Rae is right. A search needs to be done.”

“And Mommy needs my help.”

Max looked between his wife and his daughter, and Kellen could see it; he badly wanted to say they couldn’t go.

She put her hand over his mouth to stop any unwise exclamations. “I don’t want to leave Rae here by herself to fret and worry. We’ll stick together, and for protection, we’ll keep Luna with us.”

“Luna’s paws—” he said.

“I’m going to put socks on her feet.” Kellen was determined. “She isn’t going to like it, but we need her with us.”

For the first time since the morning, Rae giggled. “Poor Luna.” She hugged her dog, then sobered. “Poor Jamie. I’m so afraid of what we’re going to find.”

Sometimes, the child was ten years old going on a hundred.

“Me, too,” Kellen told her. “Me, too.”

30

Kellen and Rae—and Luna, clad in four of Rae’s socks—stood in the yard and watched the helicopter rise off the ground. It hovered for a moment.

They waved.

Max waved back.

Then he flew a low zigzag pattern over the island and around the coast.

“What’s Daddy doing?” Rae sounded far too anxious.

“He’s searching.”

In a small voice, Rae said, “Oh. For Jamie.”

“Right. For Jamie.” Kellen stroked Rae’s head.

And for Mara. Before he left them alone on the island, he wanted to be sure Mara was nowhere to be found.

At last, after making a complete circuit, he roared toward the mainland.

“I guess he didn’t see her,” Rae said.

“No.” Not Jamie, and most definitely not the cold-hearted bitch who haunted their nightmares. He wouldn’t have left if he’d seen evidence of Mara. The tight knot in Kellen’s stomach eased ever so slightly. “Let’s go.”

They started for the garage and Kellen’s bike.

Luna ran clumsily, stopping to shake a foot occasionally, trying to get the socks off. But in the chest of drawers in Mrs. Morgade’s room, Kellen had found the garters early-twentieth-century women had used to secure their silk stockings. She secured Rae’s socks with those garters, and now, despite the trauma Rae had suffered, she had to laugh at her puzzled, overdressed dog. She pushed her bike, and stopped occasionally to pet and comfort Luna.

Poor dog. But this was the price she paid for sensitive paws, and for wanting to come with them—which she did. Now, especially, after the encounter with Dylan, Luna took her job as their protector very seriously.

“I thought we’d start at the Conkles’ home. That seems the likeliest place to find Jamie.” Kellen glanced at Rae.

The sunshine and fresh air worked to revive her; she had color in her cheeks, but she stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

“After that, if we’re unsuccessful, we’ll check the beaches on the south end of the island.” Kellen didn’t believe there would be anafter that, but she wanted to speak, to keep Rae distracted from sorrow.

Rae proved she was listening. “Yes. He might have put her there for the waves to wash away.” Her voice contained a sharp, bitter note. “What made him do that?”

Kellen reminded herself that Dylan’s problems started long before they arrived, and said, “Daddy and I think he poisoned himself with his homemade liquors. Maybe he ate a poisonous mushroom, or smoked bad weed.”

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