Dust and Obey Page 6

  Hesitantly, I scooted closer to Riley. This couldn’t possibly be really happening. But when I felt Riley’s arm brush mine, the electricity that shot through me proved this was all too real.

  This was an ex-fiancée’s nightmare.

  I turned toward Riley, again avoiding eye contact. Awkwardly, I put my arms around his waist, feeling my cheeks heat at the action.

  In return, Riley’s hands went to my waist.

  At once, memories flashed into my mind. Memories of our first kiss. Memories of my yearning to spend forever by his side. Memories of the plans I’d once had for the rest of my life.

  My sentimental side needed to die a quick death.

  “Now I want the male to lie back against the couch. The female should flow with his leadership and lie back with him,” Lilsa continued with a flourish of her arms. “Be sure to keep your arms around each other.”

  I was as stiff as a statue as Riley leaned back. My arms felt like cement. I hardly wanted to breathe. My neck might as well have a brace on it.

  Even if we were married, going through this exercise in public would feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t much for public displays of affection.

  “Now, you two.” Lilsa peered above us, her hands on her hips and shaking her head with adorable disapproval. “You’re both adults and you’re married. You belong to each other. Don’t act like strangers.”

  I let out a shallow laugh and attempted to relax. It didn’t work. “I’m out of my comfort zone here.”

  “Everyone needs to encourage this couple,” Lilsa said, reprimand on her face.

  I glanced at the other couples. They all looked awkward, expect for Jim and Ginger, who actually looked like they were enjoying this. In fact, Ginger had a rather seductive look on her face and seemed lost in her husband’s gaze.

  “What are your names?” Lilsa continued, her high-pitched, baby-like voice grating on my nerves.

  “Riley and Gabby,” Riley said.

  Why did he have to look at ease? He should be uncomfortable, just like me.

  “Okay, everyone should encourage Riley and Gabby to be freer in expressing their affection for each other. I’m sure Dr. Turner will work with them as well. What do we want to say to them?”

  “Marriage is good,” everyone chanted around us. “Relationships are work. Our partners are worth it.”

  I cringed, feeling like I’d walked into a couples therapy cult. How long had they all practiced in order to be able to recite that together? The creepiness factor doubled for me.

  “You’ll have the hang of that little ditty before you leave here,” Dr. Turner said, appearing beside Lilsa and staring at Riley and I as we “cuddled.” I might as well have been doing Heimlich with a grizzly bear.

  I felt like I was touching fire, and I desperately wanted to pull away.

  But I thought of the investigation. The greater good, I told myself. I had to do this so we could find answers. I tried to mentally block everything else. But dreams of forever didn’t disappear easily like that.

  Maybe in the process of being here I’d get over Riley. Could I be that lucky?

  “We haven’t done this in a very long time,” Riley said. “So excuse us if we’re awkward.”

  “We all were when we got here,” Ginger called across the room. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We all came here with baggage and issues. Being here will expose all those things.”

  That was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to hide away all my feelings and pretend like they didn’t exist.

  “Exposing myself is not on my agenda,” I mumbled.

  Everyone froze and stared at me. I felt the air tightened around me.

  My cheeks heated. “Exposing my emotions, that is.”

  “Now, move in a little closer, Gabby,” Lilsa encouraged. “He won’t bite.”

  Against my better instincts, I snuggled my head under Riley’s chin. It had been there before—the spot where I could hear, almost feel, his heart beating beneath me. I breathed in his cologne, woodsy and leathery.

  I was going to a dangerous place. Physically? Maybe. Emotionally? Definitely.

  This trip had been much riskier than I’d anticipated, and now I was literally trapped.

  As a loud rumble filled the air, I jumped, inadvertently pressing myself even closer to Riley.

  “It’s just thunder,” Dr. Turner said. “Everyone relax. We do have some storms coming our way.”

  Great. I’d stepped out of my urban life and into the set of a gothic movie. Lovely.

  The lights flickered above us, and I tensed, waiting for everything to go dark. It just seemed fitting for this moment and the scenario playing out around us.

  “Maybe we should go on to our next move before we run out of time,” Lilsa said. “I like to call this one the Marilyn Monroe.”

  Before she could explain to us exactly what that was, the room went black. Someone screamed. My hands tightened against Riley’s shirt.

  There could potentially be a killer here. I couldn’t let myself forget that. Because this would be the perfect time for someone to strike.

  Then it would be lights out forever for someone else in this room.

  CHAPTER 11

  “This is the perfect opportunity for us all to have a heart-to-heart talk.” Dr. Turner’s voice wafted through the darkness. “Our power supply is a bit delicate out here. But I’m sure it will be restored momentarily—much like our marriages. We just have to give everything time.”

  I heard movement, and then a flashlight popped on. I saw that Dr. Turner had pulled a chair into the center of the room. He sat facing us with some kind of book in his hand, like he might recite a bedtime story.

  At the moment, I realized I was clinging to Riley. My hand gripped his shirt, my head nestled under his chin, and I was paralyzed in that position. My cheeks heated, and I drew back so quickly that the couch scooted back.

  With that as an opening, I quickly scrambled away from Riley. I adjusted my shirt and tried to compose myself. Riley didn’t look nearly as frazzled as I felt. In fact, he smiled as he sat up, something warm glimmering in his eyes.

  How could he be so laid-back? Did he have any idea how all this was making me feel?

  No, he probably didn’t. He was a guy, after all. Most guys were clueless or at least they pretended to be. It seemed like they got the better end of the bargain in that regard.

  “Has anyone seen Angelina?” a deep voice said in the distance.

  I swung my head toward the person. It was Bo. Sure enough, the space on the couch beside him was empty.

  I bristled. What could have happened to Angelina in that brief period of darkness? It didn’t make sense.

  Since no one else said anything, I decided to. “Did you hear her get up?”

  “No, but I can’t hear out of my left ear,” Bo said. He was a large man with a barrel chest, a shaved head, and an earring in his left ear. He wore a beer T-shirt, baggy jeans, and scuffed tennis shoes.

  “Did you feel anything?” Dr. Turner asked.

  Bo shook his head. “No. She shot off of me like a cat out of the water when the lights went off. Then she was gone.”

  “Let’s split up and look for her. But no one should go outside,” Dr. Turner warned, his voice grim. “The fog is too thick.”

  “What if we find her just like Steve found Anna?” Ginger asked, her voice hushed and tinged with fear.

  Jim gasped and grabbed her hand. “Don’t talk like that, Ginger.”

  The snooty Griffiths remained icily quiet toward each other and toward everyone in the room. They looked like they couldn’t care less and were just biding their time until they could leave.

  I watched everything with a sad fascination. Of course, I hoped that Angelina was okay. But the dynamics in the room were soap opera worthy. And I had a front-row seat.

  Dr. Turner found more flashlights, and we split into groups by couples, except for Bo who stayed in the room with Lilsa in case Angelina returned. Dr. Tu
rner paired up with Blaine, and we each headed toward a different corridor of Blackbird Hall. Thankfully I’d familiarized myself with the place earlier when I’d gotten lost on the way to the dining room.

  I wanted to grab Riley’s arm so I wouldn’t lose him. But I couldn’t allow myself to do that. I had to keep my distance, no matter how much my instinct seemed to have the urge to operate differently. There could be no repeats of what happened earlier tonight.

  “Someone went through my suitcase,” I whispered to Riley instead.

  “What?”

  I nodded. “Everything was meticulously placed inside, which was not my doing. I guess your suitcase looked fine?”

  “It did, but I am a meticulous packer. Why would someone go through your suitcase?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s one more thing I need to find out.” Only the beam of my flashlight lit the floor in front of us. The darkness here was overwhelming and frightening. I kept waiting for someone to jump out and send my nerves ratcheting into the stratosphere. “This place is nightmare inducing.”

  “I have to concur,” Riley said.

  It was strange because, in the past, Riley always seemed hesitant when I dove into investigations. He always tried to pull me back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he would tag along as my protector or voice of reason.

  But he seemed fully emerged in this mystery right now. He was taking the lead.

  And this was a strange realization for me. What had changed after his brain injury? Something must have happened during his time at his parents’ house in DC while he recovered.

  I didn’t know. But I had to admit that I kind of liked it.

  I’d always wanted a partner in crime solving. I’d pulled quite a few people in with me over the years, but no one permanent. They’d all just been innocent bystanders or people who happened to be personally involved or held a stake in the investigation. Knowing someone had my back was comforting.

  We headed to the second floor, where all the guests and most of the staff were staying while here. That’s what Ginger had indicated earlier, at least.

  “Angelina?” I called, knocking on a door.

  There was no response on the other side, so I opened the door. A lodging area similar to the one where I was staying came into view.

  “This is the men’s area,” Riley said.

  That didn’t stop me from wandering inside. “I’ll take this room.”

  I pushed a bedroom door open and shined my flashlight in the space. There was no Angelina here. Despite that, I peeked in the closet. No one. Under the bed. Nothing.

  Out of curiosity, I pulled open a dresser drawer. I didn’t really expect to find anything of interest.

  But then I saw a scarf.

  A leopard-print scarf.

  Just like the one Anna had been wearing in her photo.

  CHAPTER 12

  Just as Riley and I got back downstairs, the lights flickered on, and we ran into someone emerging from the bathroom.

  Angelina.

  “We’ve been looking for you,” I muttered, wondering why the woman looked both relaxed and irritated.

  “So I’ve heard.” She continued walking, so we followed her back into the lounge.

  The rest of the group was already there, but everyone became silent when Angelina walked in. Her ankle had been miraculously healed, it appeared.

  Bo hurried toward her. “Where’d you go? We were worried about you, woman.”

  She scowled and held up a flashlight. “I went to grab this. I told you that before I left. You know I don’t like being unprepared. If my Girl Scout troop knew, I’d be evicted as leader—and ain’t nobody taking over that from me.”

  “You didn’t tell me that you were leaving.” Bo crossed his arms and scowled at his wife.

  “I most certainly did. I said, I have to go empty my bladder—I was afraid I might pee myself right here if the lights stayed off too long. While I was out, I grabbed a flashlight. I guess I told you that in your mute ear.”

  Mute ear? Ears couldn’t be mute, but I didn’t bother to correct her.

  Angelina stared at everyone, like we were the crazy, crass ones. “You all didn’t have to get so worried. I’m a big girl, and I’m wearing my big girl panties.” She said the last part with a cartoonish voice. Then she wiggled her hips as if she knew we all had an unwanted mental image, thanks to her word choice.

  I attempted to poke out my mind’s eye.

  “Why didn’t the people searching the first floor see you?” I asked.

  Angelina shrugged. “I went up the back stairway. There’s a window there, so I thought I could see better.”

  My gaze zeroed in on Atticus Griffith. Riley had informed me that I’d found the scarf in Atticus’s drawer. Why did Atticus have Anna’s scarf?

  Dr. Turner cleared his throat. “I think we should call this a night. We should all get some rest and return bright and early tomorrow morning to begin fresh. You’re dismissed for Bird’s Nest Time, but be back to your rooms by nine. Sound good?”

  Everyone began to disperse.

  Except Riley and I.

  Bird’s Nest Time? What in the world was he talking about?

  Dr. Turner seemed to sense our confusion and turned to address us. “I don’t want to spend too much time sharing your story tonight. We prefer to do that as a group so we can all help each other. I did want to take the opportunity to say that we’re thankful to have you here with us. Did you have any questions for me?”

  “Is it always this exciting around here?” I rubbed my arms as goosebumps scattered across my skin like a minefield. I’d always said they popped up when fear had nowhere else to go.

  “Not usually, but this past weekend was out of the ordinary.”

  “Why’s that?” Riley asked, moving closer to me.

  Dr. Turner fidgeted. “The couple whose place you took met with an unfortunate tragedy. The wife took her own life, and that’s shaken everyone up. But I think staying together through hardships like this is important. That’s why I didn’t cancel the rest of our sessions. We’re going to use this experience to bring everyone closer together.”

  The doctor seemed to have a good explanation for everything, didn’t he?

  “That’s terrible,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s the antithesis of what I want to see happen here. In truth, it greatly concerns me, and I feared no one would want to come back. Thankfully, everyone saw her death for what it was—a terrible tragedy that we all want to avoid in our lives.”

  “I have one more question, Dr. Turner.” I straightened my spine. “When I checked my suitcase in my room, it looked like someone had gone through my things. Do you know who would have done that?”

  He pressed his lips together. “As a matter of fact, I do. I thought Blaine had told you. Leroy dropped your suitcase on the way up. It wasn’t locked and your things tumbled out. He picked up everything and tried to neatly put them back inside. We apologize that it happened, and I’m sorry no one filled you in.”

  The explanation seemed logical enough . . . I supposed. I was still bothered, though.

  “Now,” Dr. Turner brought his hands together. “Bird’s Nest Time is what we call alone time at the end of each day. It’s an opportunity for husbands and wives to talk about the day and air any of their problems with each other privately. We call it Bird’s Nest Time because many birds mate for life. That’s what we promote here also.”

  I nodded, not a fan of the cheesy, fowl-themed images his words evoked in my mind. I really hoped that one of his sessions wasn’t about the birds and the bees. “I see. Is there anywhere in particular we’re supposed to have Bird’s Nest Time?”

  “Wherever you would like. Wherever is private. But we do put a time limit on this interaction. We like to be structured here. Boundaries are good for all of us, both during our time here and for marriage in general.”

  “I understand,” Riley said.

  As we sta
rted to walk away, Dr. Turner called us back. We both paused and turned.

  “I could sense that the two of you were highly uncomfortable with our cuddle time. I do hope you’ll both give this process a chance. I know your marriage has probably weathered some difficult times. All marriages go through this. Just be open-minded.”

  Maybe the doctor was more insightful than I thought. On one hand, it had to be pretty easy to see how awkward Riley and I were with each other. But his advice for marriage was spot on. I’d never been married, but I’d seen plenty of bad marriages. I knew enough to understand it was better to stick together through tough times than to bail.

  Like Riley had done on me when he decided we needed space during the middle of his recovery.

  In the infamous words of Elsa, I had to let this go. Or even better, in the words of the Bible, I would consider this trial pure joy.

  Pure joy.

  ***

  “We better go find a ‘bird’s nest,’” I finally said after Dr. Turner walked away.

  “Where should we go?” Riley whispered.

  “I know what my vote is for. The widow’s walk.” And it wasn’t because it was the best place to spy on people. Or maybe it was. “Although, the name has always seemed a bit morbid to me. Maybe I’ll just call it The Tower.”

  “Can you imagine being a wife watching up there for your husband to return from being out to sea?” Riley gestured toward the bay.

  “I can’t. I would go crazy. Maybe patience isn’t my thing.”

  “It was a hard profession. This sea has claimed many lives.”

  “Apparently, so has this island. I mean, really . . . Cemetery Island?”

  Riley grimaced. “There are some things I wish I didn’t know. That’s one of them. This place doesn’t seem so happy with a past like that.”

  “And don’t forget the skeleton.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “How can I?”

  “I wonder what the police have found out, if anything. They were still out there last time I checked.”

  We climbed two flights of stairs and reached the spiral staircase. Before we could take the first step, we heard voices drifting downward and froze.