Her father turned bright red when he unfolded the papers. Evelyn’s body trembled. Christina began to cry, not because she understood any of what was happening but because she was emotionally raw and the only people in the world she had left were clearly in distress.
Her father didn’t do well with any of it. It had devastated him to learn of Amanda’s affair with the congressman. The custody ruling left him livid. And Evelyn knew that running off with Christina likely caused him to experience both those emotions all over again, and for that she was truly sorry. She hadn’t even given her dad a chance to say good-bye. And now, with the FBI surely keeping him under a microscope, she couldn’t risk sending him a message that they were all right. That was, by far, the worst part of all this.
Evelyn had no idea how long Christina would sleep in Clancy Flynn’s guest room, but eventually, she would wake up. And then what? Would Evelyn and the police chief play house, neither acknowledging that she was a wanted felon? Would she bolt before he returned home tonight? And go where?
She decided to call Hal. She sat at the dining room table, which put the guest room door directly in her line of vision. She would end this call at the first sign her niece was awake.
While the phone rang on Hal’s end, she glanced at the slew of family pictures on Clancy’s walls—this man’s normal life looked like other people’s vacation pictures. There was deep-sea fishing, beach bonfires, sailing, people tanned and fit and laughing, and an adorable photo of three kids under ten, sitting on the steps of a fabulous old mansion. She spotted Clancy right away. He was the one in the middle, the one who looked like he was up to no good. He had that same glint in his eye, even back then. She could see the man in the boy, just as she now saw the boy in the man.
“Christ, where the hell are you?” Hal said by way of greeting as soon as he picked up the call.
“Still on Bayberry Island.”
“You’re still at the motel?”
“We left early this morning.”
“I’ll make a quick cyber visit to the Sand Dollar and remove any record of your reservation.”
“Thanks.”
“So if you’re not there, where are you? Are you okay?”
“We’re safe for the moment.”
“Want to tell me how that is possible? Because I was just watching Headline News, and the FBI is spreading out on Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket, and Bayberry, searching for a tallish, athletic woman who looks a lot like Brigitte Nielsen. And Wahlman, that scum, is whoring himself out to any media outlet that will take him. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him make a guest appearance on Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo.”
“Please, Hal. Stop. I really don’t feel like—”
“I just wanted to hear you laugh. You must be worn to a frazzle.”
“I . . . I’m okay. At least right now.”
Hal remained quiet for a moment. “Something’s different with you. What’s going on? You sound sort of—I don’t know—calm, I guess, which is the last thing I expected. Where exactly are you on Bayberry? Where’s Chrissy?”
Evelyn sighed and propped her forehead in her hand. “I don’t really know what’s going on, but Chris is napping. We’re at Clancy Flynn’s place while he’s at work.”
Hal gasped. “What? Did you break in or something? What the hell?”
Now that made her laugh, and Hal had been right—it felt good. “We were invited.”
“All-right-tee then.”