Sometimes, Charlie thought it a blessing that his Ginny hadn’t lived to see what happened to Amanda—and now Evelyn. It would have been too much for her to bear.
Charlie flipped on the light and crossed the old wood floors to sit on the double bed. Amanda had always been a free spirit, such a bright and creative young woman. The colors in her bedroom reflected her personality perfectly—yellows and oranges and reds everywhere he looked.
The room was just as she had left it. Framed photographs and books and pillows scattered about. The comforter still held her scent. Amanda’s computer was on her desk, covered in a thin layer of dust. Wonder of wonders—the FBI hadn’t stolen all her personal things the way they had Evelyn’s. Maybe search warrants only applied to the living.
Charlie sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, soaking in the presence of his younger child. He missed Amanda down to his bones. He missed Jellybean and Cricket inside every cell of his body. What was he to do with his life now that everyone he loved had gone? It was like all the color had been sucked out of his world.
Charlie didn’t fight the waterworks. But eventually he opened his eyes and decided he would keep on somehow. There were animals to feed and water. Maybe now was the time to get another dog for company. Maybe even a border collie like Jordi.
Through his tears, Charlie noticed a small corner of bright blue paper sticking from beneath Amanda’s computer keyboard. He found it curious, maybe because it didn’t match the rest of the room. He pushed himself from the bed and yanked it loose.
It was a vacation brochure for Bayberry Island’s Mermaid Festival. Tucked in its pages was a piece of white memo paper from Amanda’s job. In her handwriting he saw this: “9 months from now. Pop-Pop’s 70th b-day, same hotel??? Same rooms? Check ferry schedule, block out vacation, remind Evie. Festival 3rd wk Aug.”
Charlie froze where he stood, the pieces falling into place in his mind. Evie had, in fact, planned to take vacation this week, the third week of August. Today was his seventieth birthday. He and Ginny had taken the girls to the festival once. . . . What was it, almost twenty years ago now? Had Amanda planned to re-create that happy time for his birthday?
He felt a huge smile break out across his face. So that’s how Evie had done it—she had used plans made by Amanda nine months before for her escape. Evie and Chrissy were on Bayberry Island, at least they had been, at one point. Surely, Charlie would have heard if agents had found them, if not a personal phone call, then at least from the news.
No. Evie had likely left before the FBI came looking for them. She was so smart. All that running had made her focused and strong, and Charlie knew if anyone could get through this, it would be his Evelyn.
He suddenly knew in his heart that his girls would be all right. He thanked God for their mystery helper, whoever it might be.
The kitchen phone rang. For fifty years now, Charlie had resisted getting a phone upstairs, but he was too old to keep running up and down the steps like this. Maybe it was time to get with the times.
“Hold yah horses! I’m comin’!”
* * *
Evie and Christina spent the later part of the morning on the beach with the dogs. Mr. T and Earl never left their side, even when they waded into the gentle surf and swam around. The dogs paddled out with them, sometimes barking, then swimming away only to come back and bark some more. It felt to Evie as if they had been assigned bodyguard duty, and she appreciated their service.
“Silly dogs!” Christina reached out to touch Mr. T’s big head. “Look! He’s a seal!”
Evelyn thought back to the events of that morning. Christina had woken up smiling, and her first question of the day was “Where’s Sir Clancy?” Evie had sat on the edge of the guest bed and explained that he’d had to go to work at the police station and he would be home later.