Never Ever (6 page)

“The mainland?” Joshua asked.

“Otherwise known as the United States of America. Or New York City. It's the closest city to us. Around these parts we call it the mainland, so if you're sticking around, you might want to get used to that.”

“We're not sticking around,” Joshua replied. Wylie tried not to go to pieces every time Joshua mentioned leaving. At some point along the tour, she had started falling in love with the island. They'd already missed Joshua's court date. What was the harm in staying for a few more days? She hated her brother's recent tendency to speak for all of them, but didn't want to fight with him in front of Tinka.

Just as they were leaving the boutique, one of the girls behind the sewing machine pulled a long pale blue maxi dress off a rack and placed it next to Wylie.

“This is exactly your size. You should wear it to dinner tonight,” the girl gushed. “You'll look porcelain in it. We'll make sure it's waiting for you in the guest bungalow.” Wylie didn't know what she meant by “porcelain” but hoped it was a compliment. She smiled and thanked her. The girl threw a smug smile in Tinka's direction, and Wylie could swear that on their way out, she caught Tinka flipping the girl off.

“That's it. You've seen everything,” Tinka announced.

“
Everything?
You're entirely positive about that?” Wylie asked.

“That's what I just said,” Tinka replied, irritated.

“What about that part of the island that's fenced off? What's behind there?”

“Ah, yes,” Tinka said. She drew a line on the map from
the Clearing and marked it in large capital letters with the words THE FORBIDDEN SIDE.

“Why is it forbidden?” Joshua questioned.

“That information is classified,” Tinka replied.

“Who's Hopper? Or is that classified, too?” Wylie asked.

“He's a homicidal maniac.” Tinka said it matter-of-factly, then let out a laugh. “Look, you're
visitors,
” she went on. “I'm not going to answer all your questions. I've shown you where we sleep, where we eat, where we drink, how we get clothes and medicine. I've gone above and beyond.”

“What about the fact that as far as I can tell, there are no phones here or computers, no Internet or television? Do you guys have some sort of weird law against technology?” Joshua pressed on.

It wasn't until Joshua asked the question that Wylie realized aside from some kitchen appliances, the medical equipment, and the sewing machines, there was a serious lack of electronics on the island.

“We don't have any of that crap. Phinn believes, and so do the rest of us, that being plugged in all the time takes away from human interaction. Phones don't work out here. We don't have the Internet either. We don't want it, and we don't need it.”

“Then how do you find out what's going on in the world?” Wylie asked.

“
This
is our world. As long as we know about what's happening here, that's all that matters. But don't sweat it if you need to run back to New York to—what do you call it?—update your statuses.”

Micah stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his head as he looked in Tinka's direction, still too shy to look at her directly.

“I think it's really cool that you guys don't let technology consume you,” he said.

So much for being on her side, Wylie thought. Of all the Dalton kids, Micah was the one who was glued to his iPhone at all times. She was surprised he hadn't broken out into hives by now, considering he hadn't been able to use it all day.

“So, what are we supposed to do until this dinner we're invited to?” Joshua asked.

Tinka was clearly done answering questions. She just shook her head and gestured to them to follow her. They stopped at a bungalow and waited for Tinka to fish a set of keys out of her pocket and unlock the door. The bungalow had three beds, with a towel laid out on top of each one. There was a large carafe of water on a table, and a giant spread of fresh fruit and crudités. The maxi dress Wylie had been presented with was already hanging outside the closet door, along with two pairs of linen pants and soft cotton T-shirts for Micah and Joshua. Tinka pointed to the snacks.

“In case you get hungry before dinner. There's a bathroom next door. I'll come get you when dinner's ready.”

Tinka grabbed a couple slices of fruit and pranced out of their bungalow without so much as a good-bye.

“What do we do now?” Joshua asked them.

Wylie stuck a mango wedge in her mouth. “I need a nap and a shower,” she answered.

“Well, don't get too comfortable. We're not staying here.”

“That's not for you to decide, Joshua,” Wylie snapped. “If you want to go home, you can go home. But that doesn't mean I'm coming with you.”

It felt good to stop bowing down to him. Wylie was almost an adult. She didn't need anyone telling her what to do anymore. She grabbed a towel from the bed and let the bungalow door slam behind her.

the inner circle

gregory
Dalton couldn't wait any longer. He got up from his seat and paced across the lobby of the police station. Pacing was something he'd become an expert at lately. Walking back and forth. Thinking. Putting his hands on his waist. Eyeing the receptionist at the precinct as if to say
I'm a very important person, and you need to deal with me right now
.

Maura was sitting three seats away from where he'd stood up. So this is what had become of them: two people who were once so madly in love, they spent endless hours together. Now they couldn't even sit next to each other.

What was taking these people so long? In what universe did three missing kids not constitute an emergency? The night before, when he and Maura discovered the kids had snuck out, they both felt an initial sense of relief. Neither of them had been looking forward to spending an entire dinner together. Gregory wanted to celebrate his
daughter's birthday and have one last night with his son before Joshua was moved into a juvenile detention center, but since they'd broken the news of the divorce, his kids looked at him like he was the sole reason their family was no longer functioning. They were young; there was a lot they didn't understand.

After the kids gave them the silent brush-off, Gregory had decided to go back to his hotel room and throw himself into his work. He told Maura he would meet her at the courthouse in the morning. It wasn't the first time their children had left without their permission and returned in the middle of the night.
It's what happens when you raise kids in the city,
he always told himself.
They think they're more mature than their age suggests. They're too independent. Transportation comes too easily for them. They don't feel trapped like those kids in the suburbs, who only go where their parents are willing to drive them
.

Maura and Gregory were so accustomed to the kids coming and going as they pleased, they didn't even worry anymore when they snuck out of the brownstone. Maura had stopped waiting up for them a long time ago. That night, they figured, like most nights, the kids would climb back up the fire escape way past their curfew (which was midnight), but they'd be safe and present at the breakfast table by morning. And maybe it was understandable that they wanted to spend this particular night without their parents. Gregory took great pride in the fact that his children loved each other as much as they did, though he refused to take any of the credit for it. He hadn't grown up with siblings, but he still knew that the kind of bond his kids had was rare.

It wasn't until he was stepping out of the shower at seven the following morning that Maura called him in a state of panic.

“The kids did not come home. The kids did not come home!” she'd cried.

No matter how often they snuck out, they always returned. And today of all days, with Joshua's court date, they knew it was vital for them to look well rested and presentable.

“I've tried all their phones,” Maura had said frantically. “They all went straight to voice mail. And they haven't responded to any of my texts.”

Gregory could feel his blood pressure rise. Straight to voice mail? Texts unreturned? Something was terribly wrong. His kids were glued to their phones. Despite his own fears, Gregory was able to get Maura to calm down. He told her the kids had probably spent the night at a friend's and would meet them at the courthouse. He would be at the brownstone in twenty minutes in a town car to pick her up.

Once at the courthouse, they were met by Joshua's team of lawyers. The parents of the girl in the coma were sitting across the aisle from them, but Gregory couldn't bring himself to look at them. They waited for their kids to arrive for close to an hour before the judge declared Joshua a no-show. What was his son thinking? He had already ruined his life, and now he was going to make things even worse.

Gregory couldn't control himself. He insisted to the judge that it didn't make sense. His son was a very responsible kid (apart from the time he drove drunk and put a girl in
a coma). Something must have happened to him. The judge told him to sit down, or else he'd be in contempt of court. Out of the corner of his eye, Gregory could see the girl's parents shaking their heads at him.
No wonder his son nearly killed our daughter,
they must have been thinking.
His own parents can't even keep track of him
. The lawyers followed Gregory and Maura to the local police precinct, and they'd been sitting there waiting in the lobby ever since.

The cops would put an APB out for Joshua, since he was technically on the lam, but that had no impact on the fact that their oldest and youngest were missing along with him. Finally, after Gregory had paced the room a hundred times, he and Maura were taken into the police chief's office. The chief was a gruff, middle-aged man. His gut was protruding and his hairline was receding. He was either nursing a sunburn or his complexion was always a leathery red. He took a sip of his coffee as he faced the Daltons.

“When did you last see your children, Mr. and Mrs. Dalton?” he asked them.

“Yesterday evening, around six-thirty.” Gregory answered. “It was Wylie's birthday, and I went to her room to give her a birthday gift. We spoke for a few minutes, and then I went back downstairs so she could get ready for dinner.”

“Did any of them leave a note?”

“When was the last time a kid left a note for her parents after sneaking out?” he responded. Maura shot him a look. “No,” he said. “They did not leave a note.”

“Is it unusual for them to sneak out?”

Maura and Gregory looked at each other. What was the
right way to answer that question without sounding like deadbeat parents? She spoke up first.

“No. They do it all the time, but it's very unusual for them to not come home or answer their phones. I keep calling, and it keeps going to voice mail every time. They could be hurt. Someone could have taken them.”

“Let's not jump to conclusions,” the police chief said. “Do they have credit cards or debit cards in their names they might use as a means to spend money?”

“They all have debit cards,” Maura responded.

“Wylie, our daughter, has a credit card as well,” Gregory interrupted. Maura looked at him, confused. “I gave her one in her name to use when she sees fit. The bills come to my office.” Maura shook her head. He knew what she was thinking—that he was trying to buy their daughter's love.

“Look, we have an APB out on your son,” said the police chief. “If he contacts you, you need to tell us. He's in a lot of trouble. The other two, well, technically we can't report them missing until it's been twenty-four hours. I don't mean to pry, but is it true that you're in the process of getting divorced?”

Gregory and Maura nodded, not sure what the state of their marriage had to do with their kids disappearing.

“We'll do everything to find your kids, but when we consider your son's criminal history and the fact that he was being sentenced today, and the current family situation, it's highly unlikely we're dealing with a kidnapping or a child-endangerment scenario.”

“What are you implying, officer?” Gregory asked, his anger bubbling just below the surface.

“Our working theory right now is that your children ran away from home.”

Gregory and Maura let this sink in.

“In the meantime, if there's no sign of them after twenty-four hours, we'll start investigating. I'll need their computers, passwords to their social networking accounts if you have them, anything else that could help us.”

Maura shuddered.

“I understand why you think they left home of their own accord, but I can't shake the feeling that someone
took
them,” she said.

“Well, we're going to investigate all possibilities. Do either of you have any enemies? If you know of anyone who might want to hurt you, now would be a good time to let us know.”

Maura and Gregory shook their heads. The only enemies they had at this point were each other.

THE GIRL AT THE BOUTIQUE WAS RIGHT: THE DRESS fit Wylie perfectly. It hung off her curves and lengthened her legs. She felt glamorous in it, but also light and natural. Aside from the lip gloss she had brought with her, she had no makeup on. It had felt good to take a shower even if the water pressure left much to be desired. For the first time today, she smelled good. Her stomach was starting to growl, but the vegetable platter helped tide her over until dinner. Micah rationed what alcohol was left in his flask, while Joshua seemed slightly less on edge now. He lay down on
the bed and tapped his finger on the wooden headboard.

It was hard to believe that just this morning they'd woken up on Phinn's boat.

Her brothers had changed out of their clothes into the linen pants and cotton T-shirts that had been left in the room for them. With their styles suddenly indistinguishable, Wylie realized how much they looked alike and how hardened Micah had become from wearing black every day. It was nice to see him in lighter colors for a change, even if he was visibly uncomfortable.

“Guys.”

Wylie turned to see Joshua now sitting up on the bed.

“I feel like an idiot even bringing this up, because it sort of pales in comparison to everything that's happening right now, but if I don't get it off my chest, I'll go nuts.” He looked down at his hands, clearly not wanting his siblings to see that he was close to tears. Wylie immediately sat next to him and put her arm around him.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Abigail broke up with me last night,” he answered, his voice breaking.

“I'm sure it was just a fight,” Micah jumped in. “She had too much to drink. She's probably sent you a million apology texts by now.”

“Well, then she's gonna be even more pissed that I'm not responding to any of them. And maybe she was drunk, but alcohol just makes everyone more honest. She told me last night she didn't want to wait for me. I never asked her to. I never thought I had to—she just always said she would.”

Abigail and Wylie had grown to be good friends, but
Abigail had never mentioned wanting to end things with Joshua. Then again, Wylie was his sister. She wasn't exactly the ideal person to confide in about that topic.

“Abigail loves you,” she told her brother. “She just needs time, that's all.”

Tinka entered the room without knocking, bringing their conversation to a halt. She now sported a form-fitting camouflage-print dress and wore her short hair slicked back. Micah practically had to wipe the drool from his mouth.

“It's time for dinner. Follow me.”

The dining room was only a short walk away from the bungalow, but Tinka took the scenic route: back down the stairs and past the lagoon. Kerosene lamps, paper lanterns, and tealight candles lit up the grounds. The stars were magnificent. They seemed to cover every inch of the black sky above them. The ones they'd flown below in Manhattan looked dull in comparison. The dining room was filled with kids cleaning their plates, but Tinka took them to a private room off to the side of the common area, which was currently quiet and empty.

The table was decorated with small centerpieces filled with burro's tail and dandelions. The fish Lola had been preparing was now grilled and laid out on a large platter. The seasoning and marinade gave it a lavender finish, a hue none of the Daltons had ever associated with seafood. The fish was surrounded by sautéed vegetables, some of which Wylie couldn't identify. On both ends of the table, oysters on the half shell rested on ice. Each place setting also had its very own shrimp cocktail with a thick green dipping sauce. Wylie thought about how she could hone her cooking skills
by helping Lola out in the kitchen, but even if that never happened and they left for home tomorrow, she knew this meal alone would make their journey worth it.

Eight empty chairs surrounded the table. Tinka pointed out their seats. Wylie and Joshua sat across from each other, both next to the head of the table. Wylie assumed the seat at the head was reserved for Phinn. Micah took the seat next to Wylie, and Tinka sat across from him.