“That’s great, Darcy, really.” I was glad that she seemed to have forgotten all the attention Joaquin had showered on me when we’d first gotten there. And her anger toward me for it. Apparently, her Darcy charm had worked its magic.
As we turned up a side street and headed for the center of town, a cold breeze sent a skitter down my spine and I had an overwhelming feeling that I was being watched. I turned around slowly, checking each of the windows, but most of the curtains were drawn. There was nothing.
While I stood, Darcy had walked ahead and was almost at the top of the hill. I hugged myself as I passed an old, overgrown playground. It had two swings, one slide, and a set of rusty monkey bars. The fence was broken, and weeds had overtaken the one bench meant for watchful parents. It was the first ugly thing I’d seen on the island, and my steps automatically slowed again. One of the swings creaked back and forth in the ocean breeze, its tempo even, like a ticking clock.
Up ahead, Darcy turned left and disappeared from view. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a scrap of tan corduroy fabric stuck to one of the rusty fence links. The exact same color as the jacket Steven Nell was wearing when he’d attacked me.
My throat constricted with dread. I whirled around, but there was no one there. Pressing my lips together, I tugged the scrap of fabric free. Sewn into the wide wale were two small, square patches. One was checkered white and blue. The other was blue around the edge, with a white square inside of the outline and a solid red square at the center. They looked like flags sailors used to signal to passing boats. Nell hadn’t had anything like that on his jacket.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. I had to chill. Steven Nell didn’t own the only piece of tan corduroy on the planet. I pocketed the scrap and took off at a jog after my sister.
Ten seconds later, I skidded onto Main Street, where I could see the general store at the end of the block. In the park at the center of town, two men played boccie while the minstrel boy sang a reggae version of “The Remedy” under the banner advertising that Friday’s fireworks display.
The boy bopped his head as he sang and played his guitar. He’d drawn a crowd, and one guy was playing air drums to the beat. I saw Tristan and Fisher approach the group from the opposite direction, and my heart skipped. Every time I saw Tristan, it was like I was surprised all over again by how gorgeous he was—his blond hair grazing those insane cheekbones, his deep tan, his strong-looking arms. He glanced over at me, then quickly trained his attention on the singer. I blushed at being caught staring.
Fisher was eating an ice-cream bar, and I saw him crinkle up the wrapper and start to throw it over his shoulder, but Tristan stopped him with a hand to his arm. He said something, and Fisher shrugged, tucking the wrapper into his pocket. Guess Tristan was green as well as beautiful.
“You know, he’s actually not that bad,” Darcy mused, nodding along to the minstrel’s song.
I rolled my eyes. That was Darcy for you. Mocking something one day, loving it the next.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s check out the general store.”
We walked to the end of the street, and Darcy put her hand on the door, then froze, staring at something over her shoulder. Hovering over the ocean on a bluff at the southernmost point of the island was a huge house with a wraparound porch. It was painted blue with intricate, carved details around the many windows and dozens of flowerpots hanging from the porch. It had two turrets, almost like a castle, and gable windows facing the town, plus a huge patio with vine-covered trellises surrounding it. Atop one of the turrets was a golden weathervane with a swan motif, which I noticed was pointing due north, even though the wind was definitely blowing in from the west.
“Is that a hotel?” I asked.
“It has to be,” Darcy said. “Either that or someone stinking rich lives there.”
We turned to walk into the general store, but the door opened and we both jumped back as Joaquin exited.
“Hey, Rory,” he said in his deep voice, giving me an aren’t you glad you bumped into me kind of smile.
“Um, hi,” I said, glancing over at Darcy.
“And Darcy!” he added quickly. He was wearing a black polo shirt with an embroidered swan on the left breast pocket, the words THIRSTY SWAN sewn in cursive over its head. I noticed Darcy admiring his biceps as he twisted the lid off a bottle of iced tea.
“Hi!” she said. “I thought you were working a double shift today.”
“I am.” He took a swig, then recapped the bottle and moved away from the door to let a pair of girls pass by into the store. I recognized them as the girls who had been talking to Aaron last night, but they didn’t bother to say hi. “I just came over here for lunch.”
“Oh. Us, too,” Darcy said.
Neither of us had said a word about lunch, but it was like she had to agree with everything he said.
“Too bad I missed you,” he said, looking her up and down. “I wouldn’t have minded having the Thayer girls as my arm candy.”
She blushed a deep red. I tried not to vomit. He stepped toward us, forcing us to part so that he could get through.
“You guys should come by the Swan tonight,” he said, pausing near the edge of the sidewalk and looking directly at me.
“Why?” I said.
Darcy smacked my arm with the back of her hand.
“Because I’ll be there,” he replied. The glint in his eye was half teasing, half cocky.
“Ha-ha,” I said flatly.