She took her phone out of her bag and turned it back on in case her mom called about Guinness. She’d missed six angry texts from Tenley, and two more from Emerson. She deleted them all in quick succession. Then she got to work, letting the familiar process lull her. She still needed a hometown photo for her application, something that would blow the judges away. This roll she’d taken on Art Walk was one of her last chances.
Soon she was in the zone, the rest of the world fading into a soft blur. Her thoughts meandered back to her trip to Gerry Hackensack’s house. The craziness of last night had pushed the questions she’d been obsessing over since Thursday out of her mind. But in the quiet peacefulness of the darkroom, they were resurrected, coming at her from every side.
What did the image prove? Was Kyla’s death really not an accident? And if so… what could have made that crater? Sydney had spent hours Thursday night researching explosives online, but it hadn’t gotten her any closer to an answer. And now it seemed as if the only person with some insight was on his way to rehab.
She was so focused on her thoughts that it took her a minute to register the sound of her phone beeping.
She froze, wrist-deep in a bin of developer. If it was Abby, if she was texting to taunt Sydney about Guinness… Sydney shuddered. She wasn’t sure what she’d do.
But she couldn’t just ignore it. It could be news about Guinness. She cleaned off her hands and grabbed her phone. She was both disappointed and relieved when she saw the name on the screen. Calum.
What are you up to? Football = Barbaric. Want to boycott the game with me?
Sydney’s lips twisted up as she stared down at her phone. The prospect of doing something away from Winslow and homecoming and the darer actually sounded amazing. Def, she wrote back. What r u thinking?
Why don’t you come over? Got house to myself today. Can hang out in the yard!
Sydney laughed as she shot him back a yes. By yard, she knew he meant private island. She quickly packed up her stuff. She suddenly couldn’t wait to get to Calum’s. Neddles Island was so isolated, it almost felt as if she’d be leaving Echo Bay.
Before long Sydney pulled up to the bridge to Neddles Island. It was tiny, one of those narrow wooden bridges that could fit only one car at a time. The ocean stretched out on either side, silvery blue and rippling, catching ribbons of sunlight like stained glass. Behind a tall iron fence sat the Bauers’ property. The house stood in the center, lifted on stilts and checkered with more windows than walls. A broad yard wrapped around it, sloping down to the ocean on every side. Sydney paused in front of the fence, taking it all in. She’d been to Neddles before to drop off Calum, but the pure grandness of it took her breath away every time.
There were a steel keypad and video screen attached to the locked gate. According to the text Calum sent her on her way over, the video system was down, so he’d texted her the password. Cassandra, she typed in. She was pretty sure it was his mom’s name, which surprised her. Considering how little Calum liked to talk about his family history, she had to imagine it was his dad who’d chosen it. Sydney’s eyes flitted to the cliffs in the distance as she drove down the long, winding driveway. Echo Bay’s Dead Man’s Falls bordered the left half of the island, cutting tall and rocky across the sky.
Calum stepped onto the porch as Sydney parked her car. He was in jeans and his favorite Superman T-shirt. He must have gotten out of the shower recently, because his usually wild curls were damp and flattened against his head. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he called out.
“There is nothing humble about this place,” she retorted. She followed him inside. “Unless, of course, you’re comparing it to Buckingham Palace.” She looked around the soaring entryway. Between the marble floors, the three-tiered chandelier, and the gilded oil paintings, she might as well have been in a palace.
“Personally, I like to think of it as the antifootball headquarters,” Calum said.
“Where computers are the real sport,” Sydney quipped.
“I do have thirteen hundred different video games, if you’re interested,” Calum offered.
Sydney raised her eyebrows. “What did you do? Rob a Best Buy?”
“Just wait until you see my dad’s office. Then you can ask that. Speaking of which, before we head outside, would you like the official tour?”
“Yes!” Sydney clasped her hands together in exaggerated excitement. “I’ve never been in a real, live palace before!”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Calum stuck his tongue out at her.
Sydney’s sarcasm quickly faded as Calum led her from a gorgeous living room to a formal dining room to an even more formal second dining room to a state-of-the-art kitchen that could have held her entire apartment. “I think I might lose count of the rooms soon,” she said. Her voice sounded as awed as she felt.
Calum grinned. “Then on to the second floor, m’lady.” He started toward the spiral staircase, gesturing for her to follow.
“There’s more? I don’t think I’m in good enough shape for this house tour.” She admired the large watercolors of beaches adorning the walls as she followed Calum upstairs. Above them, a huge skylight let in a blast of sunshine, warming her shoulders. “I love how open this place is,” Sydney said. “It’s almost like you’re still outside.”
“You’ll be a fan of my room, then.” Calum embarked onto the second floor. “It has the best view in the house. But first, the rest of the living quarters.” He led her down the hallway. “On your left you will find the Bauers’ linen closet,” he announced, “filled with a thrilling variety of sheets and pillowcases, none with a thread count lower than five thousand, of course.”
“Of course,” Sydney said solemnly.
“And to your right is a guest bedroom,” Calum continued, waving Vanna White–style at a half-open door. Sydney could see a flowery, pastel-colored room behind it. “One of twelve in the house, in case you’re curious. Or if you and your eleven closest family members ever need a place to bunk.”
Sydney laughed. “I don’t think I even have eleven family members.”
He pushed open a door at the end of the hall. “And this is the office,” he announced with a flourish.
“Whoa. That’s a lot of computer equipment.” A flock of computer screens lined the room. Seven in all, Sydney counted, each one larger than the last. Their screen savers flashed photographs of Echo Bay. A printer the size of a small car stood in the middle of the room, flanked by two smaller ones.
“No theft involved,” Calum swore. “My dad’s in the tech business.” Sydney knew that was an understatement. From what she’d heard, Sam Bauer was the tech business. He’d built Bauer Industries when he was just twenty-one and had done work for everyone from Target to the president’s Secret Service.
“I think you might actually have more computer equipment than I have photography equipment,” she joked. “Though it’s probably a close race. I do have about a thousand memory cards.”
She blinked as the joke brought a memory back to her. “Actually, that reminds me. I completely trashed one of my cards at the beach the other night. Clobbered it with wet sand.” She fished around in her purse until she found it at the bottom, right where she’d abandoned it Monday night. “Any chance you could use some of your genius-enhanced computer magic to salvage it?” She smiled prettily and batted her eyelashes in her best damsel-in-distress imitation.
“How could I say no to such a fetching look? Besides”—Calum rubbed his hands together eagerly—“I never turn down a computer challenge.”
Snatching the memory card out of her hands, he took a seat in front of the largest computer screen in the room. “This is going to be fuuun,” he sang out.
“I think we have different definitions of fun,” Sydney said dryly as she sat down next to him.
“I don’t know,” he countered. “That party you threw last night seemed plenty fun to me. I bet you have homecoming queen in the bag now.”
“Ha.” Sydney snorted. “I doubt that.”
“Seriously,” Calum said as he turned the computer on. “That party was crazier than the theory of quantum entanglement.” Sydney didn’t bother asking what that was; she could only imagine it would involve a mind-numbingly boring scientific explanation. “Though, I’ve got to ask you.” Calum pressed several buttons on a keyboard before turning to look at her. “Wasn’t it… kind of expensive?”
Sydney looked down, pretending to be fascinated by the green shoelaces on her Keds. “It was an early birthday gift from my grandfather.” It was a terrible lie—her mom’s dad was in a nursing home in Florida and barely coherent, and her dad’s dad was dead—but it just came right out. “He worries I don’t have enough fun,” she continued. The lie kept on building, as if it had a life of its own. “So I guess he thought what better gift than a party the night before homecoming? He set it all up before I could tell him I’m not exactly a party girl.” She snapped her mouth shut before she could ramble her way any deeper into the lie. She was sure the whole thing was completely transparent, but Calum just nodded.