Eric threw an arm over her shoulders. “You’re so busy with wedding preparations, two months will be gone before you know it. Now, walk fast, girl. It’s time for everyone to be back at the boat.”
Marissa stood still and said reluctantly, “Uh, Mr. In Charge, I don’t think anyone is at the boat. They said they’d meet us at what’s left of Lucian Gray’s estate.”
“What? Why?”
“They wanted to explore it because it’s weird and interesting and they’re curious.”
“It could be dangerous. No one said anything to me about stumbling around those ruins at night.”
“We’re keeping secrets from you. It’s a conspiracy,” Marissa said dramatically. Eric didn’t smile. “Okay. Gretchen knew you’d object. And obviously, you do.”
“I don’t like being lied to, Marissa.” Eric sounded quietly angry.
“We didn’t lie to you. We just didn’t tell you.” Marissa had expected him to be annoyed. She hadn’t expected him to be angry. “I didn’t even know the others planned to explore the ruins until we were getting off the boat. Gretchen wanted to see where the pipe organ sat before my grandfather donated it. She begged me not to tell you, and from the look on your face I can see why.” Eric continued to stare at her. “Okay, blow up at me if you want. I don’t see the harm—”
“She’s
my
sister.”
“Really? I didn’t know that. I guess that gives you the right to hover over her like she’s a child,” Marissa huffed. “This is absurd. The island is only a quarter mile long and the buildings are smack-dab in the middle of it. I think we can find our group with no trouble and then you can yell at Gretchen.”
“I don’t yell at my sister.”
“You just embarrass the hell out of her.”
“My parents didn’t want her to come tonight. I assured them if she could, I’d take care of her!”
“Does that mean holding her hand all night so she doesn’t wander off? Your parents have brainwashed you into thinking you are your sister’s keeper and you’ve become more like her jailor!”
Marissa slipped her feet into sandals and began flapping away, mad at Eric for acting so foolish about his sister and mad at Gretchen for asking Marissa to do something she knew would make Eric angry. What an end to a wonderful evening, Marissa fumed inwardly.
In a moment, Eric caught up to her, carrying the soft blanket on which they’d sat, talked, and cuddled less than half an hour ago. A silvery crescent moon shone in the warm night as they followed a path toward the church in silence.
Suddenly Eric said, “I shouldn’t have blamed you. It’s my fault for leaving Gretchen alone.”
“You didn’t. She’s with Tonya, Andrew, and Dillon. And before you tear into Dillon, I know you think your sister likes him too much and you don’t trust him.” Eric remained silent. “We couldn’t invite Andrew and not invite his brother, Dillon. Also, if Gretchen has the hots for Dillon, she’s never told me, and I’m her best friend.”
“Marissa, I am
not
the only person in town who thinks Dillon Archer is trouble, and she’s been with him a lot lately.”
“You’ve been in Philadelphia, Eric. Who’s your news source?”
“She dated Will Addison for months. What happened? Did he dump her?”
“No, Eric, Will did not
dump
her. In fact, I think she broke off things with him. Don’t ask me why, because she didn’t tell me. She’s not as open with me as she used to be. All I know is that lately she’s spent some time with Dillon Archer.”
“So she
is
in a relationship with Archer!”
Marissa stopped. “Oh, for God’s sake, Eric, you act like she’s twelve! You might not think she’s as worldly-wise as I am—and I’m not sure that was a compliment—but she’s certainly not a fool.”
“But she’s—”
“Gretchen. I know.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Eric looked at Marissa in frustration. “I was going to say she’s been acting different lately.” He paused. “She’s remote. Edgy.
Sad.
”
Marissa had her mouth open, ready to snap back that Gretchen seemed different because she was becoming a woman, not just Eric’s adoring little sister. His last three words drew her up short, though.
Remote. Edgy. Sad.
Marissa had to admit that she’d noticed Gretchen’s behavior seemed unusual the last few months. She hadn’t been eager to go places with Marissa and had let a couple of other friendships completely lapse. She no longer played the piano upon request, usually making an unconvincing excuse, and she’d often seemed distant, almost secretive.
A few weeks earlier, Marissa had asked Gretchen if anything was bothering her. Gretchen had said she had a lot of pressure on her because of the coming year’s concert circuit and she was nervous. In addition, her mother had been pressuring Gretchen to practice six hours a day and they’d been arguing over the impossible schedule. Marissa had easily accepted the explanations—she’d been too excited about her upcoming wedding for Gretchen’s distraction and occasional irritability to dampen her happiness.
“Well?” Eric asked. “Haven’t you noticed a difference in her?”
Marissa didn’t want to discuss Gretchen with Eric. She loved Eric, but Gretchen was her best friend and repeating their conversations to Gretchen’s brother seemed like a betrayal. What Gretchen wanted Eric to know Gretchen should be the one to tell him.
“What I’ve noticed is that our romantic evening has become all about your sister,” Marissa answered shortly.
They walked in silence until Eric finally grudgingly said, “I’m sorry.”
Marissa let a few seconds pass before she said, “Me, too. I’m sorry that we argued, not that I didn’t tell you about Gretchen seeing Dillon Archer. She’s old enough to make decisions without asking you.”
“I guess she is,” Eric said flatly.
As they entered what Marissa had always thought of as Lucian’s enclave, she felt as if a damp veil of misery lowered over her. She closed her eyes and could almost smell smoke lingering after the conflagration that had destroyed the house and slave quarters.
After a few seconds, Eric said, “I like the rest of the island, but not this place.”
“I don’t, either. Neither does Dad.”
“Then why doesn’t he sell the island?”
“He says no one has ever expressed an interest in buying it. Besides, the island is eroding. In a hundred years, it will be underwater.”
“I suppose the local historians consider that a loss,” Eric said.
“They do. I’m not certain how I feel.” Marissa took his hand, forgetting that she’d been exasperated with him five minutes ago. “Not much is left of Lucian’s house.”
They looked at the foundation stones of what had once supported a beautiful Greek Revival house. Grass and weeds now grew where exquisite rugs had once lain on gleaming wood floors. The foliage would have taken over the whole island if Marissa’s father had not hired a landscape team to keep the flora under control.
Marissa said, “I gave the key to the church to Andrew. I see light in there.”
They quickly crossed the ground to the tall white church with its steeple and spire pointing to the star-filled night. Marissa’s father kept the church maintained and always locked against vandals. Three steps led to the well-preserved interior with beautiful stained-glass windows depicting the Easter Cross, the Descending Dove, the Cross and Crown, and the Five-Pointed Star. An aisle separated eight rows of pews. The pulpit stood on a raised platform, and above the pulpit was a balcony.
The others had clearly prepared to light up the church, but even six powerful Maglite flashlights did a poor job of chasing away darkness in the church tall enough to house the organ on a balcony. Someone had either found or brought several candles whose flames sent shadows crawling up the walls to the balcony where the magnificent organ had sat…
And Gretchen stood barefoot atop the tall, narrow rail.
Marissa and Eric jerked to a stop and Marissa almost cried out before Eric’s hand quickly covered her mouth. “Don’t startle her,” he whispered.
Marissa nodded and Eric removed his hand. They heard Tonya’s voice edged with fear: “Gretchen, you’ve shown off enough for tonight. Please come down now.”
Someone on the balcony pointed a handheld flashlight at the slight, golden-haired girl holding out her arms for balance as if she walked a tightwire. She flinched and yelled, “Turn off the light!” The light blinked off.
“Eric, do something,” Marissa hissed, her heart pounding against her ribs.
He ignored her for a moment. She felt his entire being focus on his sister before he whispered, “We don’t want the flashlight glaring on her, but we can barely see her from down here. You go up to the balcony as quietly as you can. I’ll stay here and talk to her.”
Marissa nodded, slipped off her noisy sandals, and hurried to the stairs leading to the balcony. “I’m the king of the world!” Gretchen shouted.
“You’ve watched
Titanic
about twenty times,” Eric called back. “Don’t you know Leonardo DiCaprio is king of the world? Besides, you happen to be a girl. You can’t be
king
of anything.”
“Wonder what Mom and Dad would say if they saw me?”
“You’d give them the scare of their lives.” Marissa recognized Dillon Archer’s voice, which was deeper than his older brother Andrew’s. “You’re giving me the scare of
my
life.”
Gretchen giggled. “You wonder what’s gotten into this mousy little girl.”
“I know what’s gotten into you,” Dillon answered. “Too much beer.”
Gretchen laughed loudly. “Yes! And it feels
great
!”
Marissa reached the back of the balcony and stepped onto it next to Andrew Archer, who stood at an angle from Gretchen. “She just climbed up there before we realized what was happening,” he whispered to Marissa.
Gretchen turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Ah, do I hear my very, very, very best friend, Marissa? Are you telling secrets to her, Andrew?”
“No secrets, Gretchen,” Andrew said. “I don’t know any secrets.”
“
I
know secrets. Big, surprising secrets.” Gretchen had begun to slur. “Certain people should be v-verrry nice to me or I’ll tell.”
“Hey, Gretchen, we’re headed back for the boat,” Eric called casually. “If you don’t get down, we’re going to leave you behind.”
“Fat chance. You watch me like a h-hawk. Drives me crazy.” She paused, and then yelled furiously, “I’m not a lil’ girl, Eric!”
“I know,” he answered evenly. “Tonight Marissa gave me a lecture on that subject. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you grew up.”
“You n-noticed
she
grew up!”
Dillon walked softly beside Gretchen, staying parallel to her. “You’re gonna run out of railing, pretty girl. What’ll you do then?”
“I’ll turn round and walk back!”
Gretchen was two-thirds across the railing, her right side facing Eric. Tonya stood about three feet away from Dillon, facing Gretchen’s back. “Honey, we’re all tired and we all want to go home, so please come down,” Tonya said.
Gretchen took another unsteady step. “D’you believe you know everything ’bout your friends, Tonya? ’Cause if you do, you’re wrong. You might
think
you know—”
Gretchen began to sway and Marissa stepped ahead of Andrew, getting about four feet away from Gretchen’s back. If Dillon could reach up far enough to grab Gretchen around the thighs, he could pull her off the rail, Marissa thought frantically, her mouth dry, her palms wet.
She felt as if her thoughts had communicated themselves to Dillon when in the dim light on the balcony Marissa saw Dillon rise on his toes and slowly lift his hands upward and outward toward Gretchen. Thank God, Marissa thought, feeling as if she might faint from fear for her friend. He was going to seize Gretchen’s thighs and jerk her down onto the balcony. The way she was teetering, it was her only chance. Dillon is going to save Gretchen’s life, Marissa almost whispered. Dillon is going to save—
She couldn’t even scream as she saw Dillon’s raised left hand curve loosely around Gretchen’s upper thighs while his right hand shot swiftly between her denim-covered legs, flattened against her right thigh, and
pushed.
He stood still for just an instant and then leaned forward as if desperately trying to grasp the slender spun-sugar girl plunging off the balcony.
Gretchen landed with her back stretched across the old pulpit. Her small feet dangled from one side, and her head hung from the other with her face turned slightly, so her amber eyes stared blindly at her brother.
Chapter 1
Four and One-Half Years Later
1
Marissa Gray strapped her seat belt, turned the key in the ignition, and glared at the large, fluffy flakes of snow cascading on her windshield. “Oh, great,” she muttered angrily.
“What’s wrong?” Marissa looked at her beautiful older sister, Catherine, rapping insistently on the closed passenger’s window. “Are you too scared to drive?” Catherine called.
Marissa pushed the automatic opener and the window purred halfway down. “I’m not scared, Catherine; I’m pissed off. The snow is falling faster, I’m the reporter who was supposed to be at the Addison party ten minutes ago, and I haven’t even left home!”
“Oh, to heck with the Addisons.” Catherine’s long brown hair blew in the wind and her eyebrows pulled together above her light blue-green eyes. “Evelyn Addison wants you there early so she can name every single gourmet dish at the buffet and have that new photographer take her picture
alone
with the magnificent Christmas tree—no annoying guests trying to crowd into the shot. Of course, that’s if she hasn’t gotten too wide to entirely block the tree from the photo.”
Marissa laughed. “Shame on you! She’s our esteemed mayor’s wife. Where’s your respect?”
“It vanished when you said you were driving to the Addison house in your ridiculously small,
convertible
sports car.”
“I have enough sense to put up the car top, Catherine.”
“The tops of most convertibles aren’t as sturdy as those of hardtop cars and you know it. Besides, a blizzard is coming.”