Three Weeks Last Spring (16 page)

When Debbie reached her office the following morning the first thing she did was
call
Skye.
She
listened to the phone ring o
ut at the other end of the line and
became increasingly uneasy.

"Damn it, Skye.
Please pick up the God-damned phone!"

This was totally out of character.
Even last year, when she'd been feeling so down after her return from Seattle, Skye had alwa
ys
answered
.

A cold shiver ran down Debbie's spine.
What if Skye had gone for a walk and fallen?
Or had suddenly taken ill?
She could be lying somewhere for days before anyone found her.
And why for God's sake,
had she chosen
such an isolated spot for an out-of season vacation?

She nursed a cold latte and thought about what to do next.
Abruptly the phone on her desk rang.
She snatched it up.

"Skye, is that you?"

"Sorry to disappoint you Debbie, but it's me, John."

"Oh John, hi.
Sorry
,
I forgot all the manners I have.
How are you?
It must be the early hours of the morning
in London
.
What are you doing up this late?"

"I'm fine thanks.
Over-worked, under paid—you know how it is when
work colleague
goes off on an extended
vacation.
W
hat's this about Skye?"

"I'm glad you've called.
I was thinking about e-mailing you.
I'm worried about
Skye
.
I haven't been able to reach her since yesterday afternoon.
We agreed that I'd call her last night, but there was no answer.
I don't know if she's had an accident, she's sick or what.
Did you
know
the cabin she's rented is way out in the boonies and her nearest
neighbor
is miles away?"

"Hey, stop worrying.
I'm sure nothing's wrong, after all she's on vacation. She probably went out for the evening and forgot about your arrangement."

"John, I called every hour up to midnight and then again this morning.
There's still no reply.
Don't you think that's odd?"

"I'll admit it's not like her to say one thing and do another.
But I still don't think it's a reason to call out the National Guard.
Have you two fallen out, by any chance?"

"No, we haven't.
At least, not since I went up for the weekend.
I mean, we did have a misunderstanding, but we've made up since then.
In fact, we had a long chat yesterday about… about men and stuff.
She finally agreed that she needed to talk about what happened with Michael, to get it off her chest once and for all.
But now that I can't reach her, I'm seriously scared."

"Hey, Carrot Top," John said, using his nickname for her.
"Calm down.
I'm sure everything is fine and there's a simple explanation.
Just give her some space
. Y
ou know how
uptight
she gets when you mention Michael's name.
If there’s one thing I've learned over the last twelve months it's not to push her on this.
If you do, she'll close up tighter than a duck's a
rse
.
She'll talk when she's good and ready and not before.
Stop worrying, I daresay she'll be in touch before the day is out."

"I hope you're right.
But I have a strange feeling that everything is not as it should be.
You don't suppose she got it into her head to go to Bremerton, do you?"

"What, back to that naval base?
Don't be ridiculous!
There is no way she would go there, credit her with some sense.
Besides, that bastard will have been redeployed by now.
I'm sure
she said
something about him waiting for orders before she flew out last
year."

"You're probably right, it's a stupid thought.
I'll leave it another twenty-four hours, but if I haven't heard from her by then, I'm flying up there."
The
n
she
realize
d
that John must have had his own reason
for calling
.
"So what's with the call?
Don't tell me you're reneging on our long-overdue date yet again."

John laughed heartily.
"You've rumbled me again, Carrot Top."
Ever since her first visit to England, Debbie had
tried
to corner him into going on a date with her.
So far he’d managed to wriggle out of it.
"Actually, I was ringing to ask you for the number of the cabin.
I've got a few problems with our latest project and I need Skye to look at the code for me.
I know she took her laptop with her, but she's not picked up any e-mail since she left the country."

"Y
ou don’t expect her to
work
when she is on
vacation
, surely?
I'm scared to death for the girl, but if she is all right you
realize
she'll hang me out to dry if
I give you her number, don't you?"

"Yeah, but under the circumstances I think it might be justified—then we can both try phoning."

"You're right, as usual.
Okay, here it is, but you have to do me a
favo
u
r
too?"

"Sure—"

"If you speak to her before me, be a sweetie and
tell her you used
your considerable charm to persuade me to give you the number?
That way, she can take her temper out on you rather than me."

"Thanks at lot
.
I'm sure I'll enjoy Skye chewing me out for interrupting what's left of her
vacation
.
But don't worry.
I'll make sure she knows I talked you into giving me the number."

John rep
laced the handset on its cradle. He
leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up on the desk.
There had to be a rational explanation for Skye's
behavior
and now that he thought about it she'd been in an odd mood of late.
He was just
beginn
ing to believe she
ha
d finally got Michael out of her system when she abruptly announced that she was taking a month's leave and
flying
to
Seattle
.
And as if that wasn't bad enough
,
she'd chosen to take a
vacation
at the precise moment their project was about to go live.
It didn't
add up
.

It would have made more sense if she'd chosen another destination, however she
was
adamant about visiting the San Juan Islands.
Why?
And he didn't buy
the
lame excuse that she couldn't put the past behind her until she'd been back there.
That was total bullshit
.
H
e should have tried harder to persuade her to stay at home, rather than agreeing to her going halfway round the world on a whim.
At least he could have kept an eye on her.
He
realize
d
that it was almost a year to the day since Skye had phoned unexpectedly from Heathrow and asked him to pick her up.
Could that have any bearing
on her apparent disappearance?

He'd never forget the sight that greeted him that chilly May morning.
Skye
was
sat
on her suitcase outside the terminal building waiting for him
as
he
pulled up
at the curb.
He'd been shocked by her appearance, for the happy, smiling young woman he'd left there a mere three weeks earlier had vanished,
to be
replaced by a gaunt,
disheveled
woman with dark circles under her eyes.
She
ha
d looked awful, John recalled,
and
when
he placed
his arm around her to
help her in
to the car, sh
e'd shrunk away from his touch.

Throughout the journey Skye sat hunched in her seat as far away from him as she could and not said a word.
When he
drew up
outside his house rather than hers she made no comment.
It was as if her mind had shut out everything
,
except the basic instinct of survival.
He remembered too, when he
led her through to the kitchen
and made her a pot of tea, she
just sat in t
he chair rocking back and forth,
staring at the wall.
Later, when he
suggested she go and rest, she
ha
d not argued, but like a small child, had allowed him to lead her to the spare room, undress her and put her to bed.

Skye stayed in her room for two days.
Then, on the third day he
arrived
home from
work
,
to find her
gone.
He
drove
like a
lunatic to her house, where he
found her in the garden acting as if nothing was wrong.
It was as if her
vacation
had never taken place, for she never mentioned it.
Not once.

Now, almost a year later,
he
was still trying to piece together the events of those fateful weeks.
Could Debbie be right?
Could Skye have decided to go to Bremerton in the hope of finding Michael?
Surely, n
ot
even she would be that stupid.

He would
phone the cabin and keep doing so until either Skye or, God forbid, Debbie answered.
He didn't care whether Skye
was
happy to hear his voice or not.
The only thing that mattered was that she was safe and he wouldn't rest until he knew she was.
His problems could wait; Skye's safety and wel
lbeing were far more important.

***

O
blivious to the commotion she'd stirred up on both sides of the Atlantic
, Skye
ate a late breakfast.
Although still tired, her headache had eased from a throb to a more acceptable dull ache and a couple of aspirins would finish it off.
After being cooped up in the cabin for three days it
felt
stuffy and
claustrophobic, but she
didn't have the energy for a long walk.
Instead, she picked up her book and the rug off the sofa, and threw open the French windows leading to the deck.
She sat down in
a wicker chair
and placed the rug over her knees
,
then
settled down to read.

It was a beautiful warm and sunny afternoon.
The woods were alive with chattering birds
,
their
song
mingling with the
sound of the
waves gently washing the shore.
It wasn't long before the warm spring sunshine made her feel drowsy.
Her book slipped out of her hands and on
to her knee as she fell asleep.

A
small fishing boat chug
ged
into the cove and drop
ped
anchor.
They
ha
d been paid well for their work and their only concern
was
disposing
of
the heavy containers
.
They
ha
d chosen th
e
cove because according to the charts, the water under the hull of their vessel was deep enough for their purpose, not that it particularly mattered to them.

But it should have d
one.

A simple miscalculation in their navigation meant that they were
dumping
their deadly cargo in far shallower water than intended.
Already the contents of the first
container
were seeping into the sea.
I
f they
ha
d
kept
watch on the cabin they
would
have noticed
a
woman taking a keen interest in the
vessel
and actions of its crew.

Skye jolted upright in her chair and stared as two men roll
ed
something off the deck of
a
small boat into the sea.
She was too far away to see exactly what
splashed
into the water,
or
the name of the vessel painted on the bow.
It was a real rust bucket, and similar in appearance to the many fishing boats she'd seen moored in Friday Harbor.
Abruptly, the engine pitch changed as the vessel pulled anch
or and steamed out of the cove.

What on earth were they up to?
During her three weeks at cabin
the only boat she had seen in the cove was
Walker’s and for this one to suddenly appear seemed unusual.
What could they have dump
ed
overboard—a sack of some kind or perhaps a body?
Or maybe it was just some fancy fishing gear.
Skye
gave the matter more thought and
wondered if what she'd seen
had been
a
barrel
of some sort.
But surely that was illegal?
She
must be mistaken.
If only
she had
fetch
ed
her binoculars, which were ly
ing inside on the bookcase, then
she
woul
d know for sure.
She dismissed the incident as nothing important, but made a mental note to mention it to Walker
when, and if, he called.

She picked up her book again, and had
started reading
, when the phone rang.
Positive it would be Walker
,
she hurried inside to answer it.

"Hello."

"Hi there, Sweet Pea.
Enjoying your
vacation
?"

"John!
How did you get this number?
Why are you calling?
Ever
ything is all right, isn't it?"

John thought carefully before he replied.
He didn’t want to spook her.
"I think I should be asking you those questions.
Do you know how worried you've had everyone?
Debbie and I have being trying to reach you for the last twen
ty-four hours.
Are you okay?"

"I'm fine.
I had a really bad migraine and crashed out.
I slept it off and can't have heard the phone ring.
I'll call Debbie later and put her mind at rest."

"Well, make sure you do—she's all set to call out the Washington State Militia if there is one or worse—fly up there to check on you personally."

Skye groaned.
"I'll
ring
her as soon as I put the phone down, promise.
So why are you calling?"

"You know I wouldn't bother you
unless it was
important.
I asked Debbie for this number, as you
weren’t
picking up
your
e-mail.
So don't chew her out, it's not her fault
."

"All right, but that doesn't answer my question.
You
’re
not calling because I didn't answer the phone, or because you're missing me, are you?"

"You've rumbled me.
There's a problem with the software.
There must be a bug in the code, only I can't find it.
It worked fine for a while and then failed abruptly.
I
’ve
looked at it until my eyes crossed and I can't
see
anything wrong.
I ran the usual diagnostics on the hardware and there's no problem there.
I
’ve
checked for viruses and the like and we're clean.
I know I'm asking a lot, but would you check to see if I've missed anything obvious?
And don't tell me you can't because I know yo
u
ha
ve your laptop with you."

"I knew bringing that damned thing was a mistake.
S
eeing as you
've asked nicely, I'll do it, bu
t you'll owe me."

"I knew there'd be a catch."

"If I find the bug, I get to add two days to my vacation for every day it takes me, do we have a deal?
If we don't, then my laptop stays firmly in its case and you'll have to wait till I get back."

"Just remember, that we give the presentation barely six weeks after you get home.
It doesn't leave us much time to get the gremlins sorted
out and the testing completed."

"Trust me, I hadn't forgotten.
Oh, and as I'm going to be working you can call Debbie and tell her that I'm still in the land of the living and under no circumstances is she to fly up here or disturb me."

John groaned.
"You drive a hard bargain, Sweet Pea.
Okay,
w
e've got a deal, but do I really have to call Debbie?
You know she only wants me for my body."

Skye laughed. "Yes you do, and you may as well accept that she'll wear you down eventually.
Why not give in and take her for dinner next time she's over?"

"I'll think about it…
and I'll call her, even though I know I'm getting the short straw in this deal."

"Really, I thought I was being quite fair
.
E-mail me the details and I'll contact you as soon as I find anything.
Talk to you soon, bye."

Damn it!
S
he didn't need Debbie mounting a search and rescue party just because she'd failed to answer the phone.
Why couldn't she learn to leave things alone?
It
served Debbie right for pushing her into remembering what Michae
l had done to her.
That was it.
That's what she and Debbie had been discussing.
It was all coming back now.
She
ha
d agreed to tell Debbie the reason why she'd left Seattle in such a hurry and the pain of her memories caused her to blackout.
Well, Debbie would have to wait—she
woul
d phone her once she and John had sorte
d out their technical problems.