A Rare Chance (27 page)

Her eyes opened. Widened. She sputtered into slightly hysterical laughter, her cheeks eerily pale. “So it is. I heard you. I thought you might be Joshua or Pete Darrow.”

“And so you
meditated?”

“It wouldn't have done any good to run. Where would I go?”

Gabriella unzipped the tent and crawled inside, not certain of the state of Lizzie's mind. She recalled certain passages in her journal, then quickly put them out of her mind.

The tent's interior was cozy, set up with a sleeping bag, freeze-dried foods, bottled water, camping utensils and pots, flashlights, books. Everything a fiancée on the run might need. Lizzie uncrossed her legs, her movements deliberate, controlled, her world reduced to this small, efficient, isolated camp. She wore dark green Patagonia fleece pants and a matching pullover, thick hiking socks, no shoes. Her hair was pulled back and tightly braided. Showers would be a problem on her little island getaway. Lizzie had obviously been out there since calling Gabriella four days ago.

But Lizzie, Gabriella knew, was in the thick of things this time, unable to remove herself entirely from her drama. It was as if Pettit Island was a symbol for her position, isolated and removed; yet there was Boston, looming in the distance, not so very far away at all.

Feeling a little shell-shocked, Gabriella sat in front of her friend, who'd lied to her, used her, put her in one hell of a position. Yet Lizzie, she supposed, was simply fighting her demons the only way she knew how. She'd gotten away from Joshua Reading. Never mind the rest of it, that was what counted.

“Lizzie,” Gabriella said tightly, hanging on to the last shreds of her own self-control, “are you okay? What's going on? What're you doing out here? You can't stay here forever.”

Lizzie's eyes were clear and very green but not quite focused, not quite alert. “I told you: I can't marry Joshua. I needed some time to myself to sort things out.”

“This isn't Paris,” Gabriella said with a small, forced smile.

“It's better than Paris, actually.” There was no guilt in her tone, no curiosity about how Gabriella had found her, or why, or what came next. “I have the ocean right here, my own water and food. I have everything I need. If I'd known camping could be this peaceful, I might have gone off to Australia with you and Scag after all.”

“Lizzie—”

“I just thought I'd take a few days and sort things out.”

“Well, you can't stay here. Pete Darrow's looking for you. Joshua—” Gabriella inhaled sharply, willing herself to remain calm. “If I've found you, they will. It's only a matter of time.”

“Please don't make me go back,” she whispered, her eyes wide, focused on Gabriella as if she had the power to make her do anything, even something against her will—as if Lizzie had no will of her own left. “You're stronger than I am—you go back. You tell them to leave me alone. I'm—God, I'm trying to put myself back together. I'm sorry I lied to you, Gabriella. But if I told you I was coming out here, I knew you'd have come, you'd force me to do the right thing, and I just couldn't. I just wanted to run.”

“What do you think I'd have made you do?”

Her eyes reached Gabriella's. “Tell the truth. Tell what I know. Face up to reality.”

Gabriella bit off a protest. She knew Lizzie was right. Probably that was exactly what she would have encouraged Lizzie to do. In her vulnerable state, she might have felt coerced.

But Gabriella wasn't ready to let her friend off the hook. “You could have warned me Pete Darrow would be looking for the package you put in my care.”

Impossibly, Lizzie paled even more, her cheeks turning ashen, her hands trembling as she knotted her fingers together in her lap. “You didn't…Gabriella, you kept your promise, didn't you?”

“I tried. I really tried, Lizzie.”

Tears welled in Lizzie's eyes, shame marring her features. “Then you opened the package?” Her voice was feeble. Hope against hope. “Gabriella, did you?”

Gabriella didn't bother with excuses. Later, when she had a different perspective on her ordeal, Lizzie might be able to see why Gabriella had made the choices she had. “Scag found the package, Lizzie. He opened it, copied your diary, and gave it to me without reading a word. But I read it. I'm sorry. I was worried about you. I simply didn't know what else to do.”

Mortification and indignation swept over Lizzie, stiffening her spine, spilling the tears down her pale cheeks. She looked as if she would be sick. She motioned toward the tent opening, extending one shaking arm. “I want you to leave, Gabriella. Leave right now. Obviously I can't trust anyone anymore, not even you. I thought you were my friend! I thought—
just leave!”

Gabriella remained right where she was. “Lizzie, you are not responsible for what Joshua Reading did to you. You are only responsible for what you did. And you got out. You're here. You're not trying on wedding dresses and planning your honeymoon with that son of a bitch.”

“You read my private thoughts. You broke your word to me.”

“I made a promise based on false information.”

“It shouldn't matter what was in the package!”

“It does matter, Lizzie. Look, I don't want to fight. Lizzie, for God's sake, you're my best friend. We've been friends forever. For all I knew Darrow or Joshua had you stuffed in some attic somewhere. I was afraid you were in serious danger.”

“Well,” she said, summoning up her last shreds of haughty dignity, “as you can see, I had everything under control.”

Gabriella didn't argue. It was so obvious to her that Lizzie had precious little under control. “There's more,” she said. “Lizzie, Pete Darrow has your journal.”

White-faced, panicked, Lizzie jumped to her feet, crashing out of the tent, wild with the need to flee. But there was nowhere to go. Gabriella followed her out to the cooking area, where she was pacing around in a tight circle, breathing hard, tearing at her braid.

“He can't,” she kept saying, “he
can't.”

“He stole it.”

Gabriella stayed back, knowing how she would feel in Lizzie's position. She might respond differently, but she would feel just as miserable, just as out of control, just as trapped. And Lizzie, who preferred helping over being helped, would be there for her.

She went on steadily: “I'd have been more careful where I hid it if I'd realized what a bombshell it was. Lizzie, is Pete Darrow…”

But Lizzie refused to listen and covered her ears, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Lizzie,” Gabriella said gently, touching her friend's shoulder, “come back with me. We'll figure this thing out together, you and me.”

She groaned, crying. “Everyone will know what a sick, sick person I am.” She whirled around at Gabriella, screamed at her.
“Everyone!”

Thanks to you,
her tone said.

Gabriella tried to understand, tried to be patient. But she needed to cut through Lizzie's panic and self-pity and get her to listen. “Everyone won't know. It's none of their business. You'll sort out what happened in your own way. You've already begun. Keep reminding yourself that you got out. I didn't force you out, your parents didn't. You got out on your own, because you knew you had to.”

Lizzie stopped moving, her breathing ragged, as if she'd run for miles. She brushed her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “You would never have gotten into such a relationship.”

“This isn't about me, Lizzie.”

“I loved him.” Her face screwed up as she fought back more tears. “I really did. I'm not sure if I saw him now I wouldn't want to marry him on the spot.”

“Is that what you want? To marry Joshua Reading?”

“No!”

“Then trust yourself, Lizzie. You have to start some time.”

“It's so easy for you to say.”

“Yes, it is, because I know you. I believe in you.”

She was shaking her head, not countering Gabriella so much as trying to set things straight in her own mind. “He's just so obsessed with being weak, a coward. He's desperately afraid Titus will find out how much he fears him, despises him. Loves him. I don't know. He wants to prove himself to his brother one minute and kill him the next.” She sniffled, shaking her head. “And yet he can be so intense, so warm and sensitive.”

“I know he can. I've seen him that way.”

Her eyes, red rimmed and swollen from crying, fastened on Gabriella, a hint of the old Lizzie Fairfax coming through. “That's what attracted me to him in the first place, you know. Not the other stuff. I've never been so obsessed with anyone the way I was with him. It was like an addiction. I had to get out, go cold turkey, run. I couldn't think about what I was doing to you, my parents, anyone I cared about.”

Gabriella nodded, imagining Lizzie out here alone on an isolated island, she a woman more accustomed to cities, people, activity. She had always prided herself on doing the right thing, at least in public; she liked being gracious and classy and well bred, a contrast to Gabriella's more direct style. Leaving Joshua Reading, hiding until she could pull herself together, lying to her best friend in order to save herself, it had all taken courage. Gabriella saw that now.

“You did the right thing, Lizzie,” she said, knowing it was true. If Lizzie had tried to give Gabriella all the facts, she'd have never been able to make herself leave.

For a moment, she looked hopeful, almost proud. “I did, didn't I?”

“You know you did.”

“I think—in the past few days I think I've come to realize that I was drawn to someone who'd make me the focus of his world. I don't understand why, but I craved that recognition and attention. Now I need to figure out why.”

“You will,” Gabriella said. Practical concerns kept her from wanting to probe deeper, at least for the moment. She hoped Mark was still waiting with the boat. “How does Joshua know about the journal?”

“He found it. He was furious. That's when I knew for sure I had to get out.” Her voice was steely, the initial shock and despair and humiliation of seeing Gabriella lifting. “I didn't want to be in a relationship with sick, secret parts to it. It was all so thrilling at first. Anyway, he wanted me to destroy my journal. I refused. I put it in safekeeping with you, in case he tried to turn it against me somehow—in case he wouldn't let me leave him. I'd hoped that by hanging on to it he'd just leave me alone.” She shook her head, sighing but restrained, her hysteria having passed. “I know I've handled this badly, but I did the best I could,
all
I could. Gabriella”—she took a breath—“you don't hate me, do you?”

“For what?”

“For falling for your boss, for putting you in this position.”

“No, Lizzie, I don't hate you.”

She acknowledged Gabriella's words with a small nod. “We should go. If you want, I'll talk to the police. I'm sure they'll want an explanation of the pictures.”

Gabriella went still. “Lizzie?”

“What is it?”

“What pictures?”

Birds fluttered in the nearby brush. Gabriella could hear the waves, smell the salt of the bay, feel the cold penetrate her fleece pullover. Lizzie's mortification had turned to fear. Gabriella could feel that too.

“In the package, there was another envelope.”

Gabriella shook her head. “Scag must not have seen it.”

“Oh God.”

Gabriella didn't make a sound. “It's true, isn't it? Joshua's a gun nut. He's got his own arsenal of illegal weapons.”

Lizzie was visibly shaken, trembling. “Joshua—I stumbled on his gun collection—it was frightening.” She breathed in, regaining some measure of control, but her body was rigid as she tried to stop shaking. “I don't know how or why he started collecting weapons, but they're—you should see them. There's nothing there he could possibly need for self-defense or hunting purposes.”

“He didn't show it to you himself?”

“No, I stumbled on it on my own.” She gave Gabriella a wan smile. “I wonder if he planned to give me the grand tour on our honeymoon. Well, who knows. When I saw all these crates, I couldn't resist, and I opened a few. I guess that's when it really hit me that I had to get out. I couldn't continue lying to myself. I took pictures of everything I could find. I didn't know what Joshua would do if I tried to leave. Maybe I should have just taken the pictures to the police.” Unable to go on, she paused, gulping for air. “But I didn't, and now Darrow must have them.”

“Hell,” Gabriella said. “Well, at least it's Darrow who has them and not Joshua. There's a good chance he'll make Joshua pay to keep him quiet.”

“Oh God.”

“Cam told me—”