“Weapon. Now!” the woman ordered.
Her heart pounding, Cate lowered her weapon and slowly turned her head, trying to see behind her out of the corner of her eye.
Naomi.
Did she kill Becca with Milton?
“Drop the gun.”
Cate let the weapon fall to one side. Backup is coming. But when?
She was on her own.
At Naomi’s urging, she stepped out from behind the rocks and moved toward the hole. Milton had stopped to watch. Tears continued to track down his cheeks.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Naomi,” he pleaded.
“Then you shouldn’t have set the lighthouse on fire for everyone to see!”
“I had no choice!” He raised the shovel as if to fling it at Cate and Naomi. “She wouldn’t shut up!”
“No one was talking to you!” Naomi snapped at him.
“I could hear her!”
“Who was talking to you?” asked Cate, remembering Dustin’s comment about burning out the ghost.
“Shut up,” muttered Naomi behind her. “Don’t encourage him.”
“She told me I’d pay for what I did to Becca,” he choked out. “I’m trying to make it right.” He gestured at the hole.
He killed Becca.
Why?
“You buried Becca here?” Cate asked. She got a rap on the back of her head with the gun for the question.
“She wasn’t supposed to die,” he wailed. “But she tried to escape, and I tackled her and she fought me and I pinned her—”
“Milton. Shut. Up.” Naomi was livid.
“You knew all along what had happened to Becca,” Cate said to Naomi. Hurry up, Tessa. “You helped him cover it up.”
“Wrong,” Naomi sneered.
“Naomi had nothing to do with this,” Milton said earnestly. “She didn’t know anything about Becca until her bones were found.”
“Why are you reburying the bones, Milton?” Cate asked softly. He wasn’t in his right mind. The formal waiter had been replaced with a crazy-eyed man with a shovel on the verge of a breakdown.
“I tried to take care of her, and I brought her back to her home because I messed up. But you guys dug her up and put her in a bin!” He placed a gentle hand on the bin. “She belongs in the ground on her island.”
He’s cracked.
“You haven’t done anything wrong yet, Naomi,” Cate said to the woman behind her. “You didn’t kill Becca. Let me go so we can get Milton some help.”
“Shut up.” Naomi ground the muzzle into Cate’s hair. “You don’t know what he needs.”
“Tell me.”
“He’s a good man,” Naomi said. “He took Becca so her father would ransom her and he could save his dream. Two years ago he needed money to save The Little Garden restaurant before it failed. He was the owner; it was his heart and soul. He had to sell it, and now he’s just a waiter.” Her voice broke.
A ransom? Milton needed money?
“I’m sure a prosecutor will take his desperate situation into consideration.” Not in your dreams. “But how did she die?”
Naomi lowered her voice. “I think he choked her. He said she tried to run away and stopped breathing when he had his hands on her throat.” Her voice faltered. “He brought her back home after that. He really means well.” She sniffed.
How can she pity him?
“I can get him some help,” Cate told her. “He needs to be examined by a psy—”
“No! He’s fine! He just needs to get past this! If the bones hadn’t been found, today would be like any other day!” She shoved Cate in the back, making her trip and fall on her hands and knees. “I won’t let you take him!”
Cate heard a click behind her as Naomi released the safety on her weapon.
This isn’t happening.
She was still on her knees, her mind racing for a way out.
Turn and attack. I’ve got nothing to lose.
She sucked in a breath and prepared to lunge.
A gunshot roared, and Cate flung to her stomach, her hands protecting her head. She lay in the dirt, frozen as she waited for the pain.
“Noooooo! Naomi!” Milton cried out, agony in his voice. Cate lifted her head. Milton ran directly at her, his shovel raised over his head. His face contorted. His mouth was open in a scream. Cate pulled up into a crouch, prepared to tackle the crazy man.
He jerked, spinning to his left as a second gunshot filled the air, and he fell to the ground.
Cate whirled around, expecting to see Tessa.
Rex Conan stood by the rocks, his rifle still aimed at Milton. His face sagged, and the weapon shook in his hands. Naomi was on the ground, moaning softly as she bled from a hole in her gut. Milton writhed and wailed, clamping his hands to his collarbone. Cate kicked Naomi’s gun aside and pulled off her jacket, then made a pad to press against the woman’s stomach. With one hand applying pressure to Naomi’s wound, Cate quickly checked her for more weapons. She looked up at Rex. “Come hold this,” she ordered. He leaned his rifle against a boulder and knelt by Cate, his trembling hands taking over the pressure.
“You heard what Milton said?” Cate asked.
“I did.” His face was wet with tears. “Becca’s disappearance tore a permanent hole in my heart. Nothing can fix it. Not even shooting her killer will fix it.”
“Thank you for firing,” Cate told him. “Naomi would have put a bullet in my head.”
Rex stared at the woman moaning under his hands. “For thirty years I’ve written about shooting the bad guys. I don’t ever want to experience it in real life again.” He swallowed hard and pressed on the padding. “Hang on,” he told Naomi.
Cate turned to go help Milton and found his gun next to the bin.
“Cate?” Tessa shouted from the edge of the woods. She and Bruce had their weapons trained on Cate’s group.
“All clear,” Cate yelled. “We need Henry!”
She reached Milton and knelt next to him, fumbling to stop his bleeding while frisking him for more weapons. She found two folding knives in his pockets and threw them to the side.
He turned his head and looked past her. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened. “I tried,” he whispered hoarsely. “I tried. Leave me alone.”
What? Cate frowned and looked behind her, catching a glimpse of an evaporating white wisp.
An icy pocket of air settled on her, and an electric tickle went up her spine.
Ruby.
12
Henry opened the door to exam room two and was stunned to see Cate sitting on the table.
It’d been five days since the events on Ruby’s Island. Cate had vanished the next day, taking the box of bones to the FBI lab and reporting to her supervisors about the events that had unfolded on the island. Henry had run into Jane at the market, and she had informed him Cate would return but didn’t know when. Henry had wanted to call her . . . text her . . . do something, but he didn’t have her number and couldn’t bring himself to ask Jane.
So he had waited.
“You’re back,” Henry said as he stepped inside the exam room. Cate had dark circles under her eyes and looked like she hadn’t slept in days. He couldn’t look away. She was still beautiful.