How many others knew that? David wondered. He thought back to their lunch at the restaurant by the ferry dock. The waitress, seeming to be friendly and curious, had quizzed them hard about who they were. Anyone who knew anything about Arundel would recognize David’s and Ariel’s last names. A quick check of the Internet would tell about R.J., and even Sara, since she’d been on Broadway.
Though Brompton had left them a curt note and run off without them, and despite the fact that three women said they’d seen R.J. and Sara early in the morning, David was still worried about them. The storm, the stories he’d heard about some kid named Gideon, were preying on his mind. Were they all right? Why hadn’t Sara and R.J. made an attempt to communicate with them?
By the end of the day, David decided that in the morning he would set out to find them. While Ariel soaked in the tub he’d filled a backpack he’d found in Phyllis’s basement. While he was down there, he’d made himself check inside the freezer, and, yes, Nezbit’s body was still there.
The full pack was now hidden in the closet nearest the door. His plan was to leave about 4:00 A.M. He had an idea what had been in Brompton’s head and where he wanted to go. What no one knew—or did they?—was that David knew a great deal more than they thought he did.
He went to bed, but he couldn’t sleep. He kept trying to remember a story he’d written when he was in the fifth grade: “What I Did This Summer.” An ordinary assignment, but David had made an extraordinary story out of it. His teacher had liked it so much that she’d entered it in a state essay contest and David had won second place. His mother had been so proud of him that when she got a computer a few years later, she had it posted on the Web. On the Tredwell genealogy site, when one clicked twice on David’s name, up came photos of him and the essay that had won a prize.
For the last twenty-four hours, David had begun to wonder if that essay was why John Fenwick Nezbit had been killed. The man had been safe as long as he alone knew where his treasure was. But if someone else knew, then Nezbit would become redundant, unnecessary. Maybe the someone else who knew where his gold was was David.
“David,” he heard Ariel whisper. “Are you asleep?”
He looked at the clock: 1:23 A.M. He needed to get up in just two and a half hours. He was tempted not to answer, but he couldn’t. “I’m awake. The storm scare you?”
“No,” she said, then to David’s disbelief, she came into the room, pulled back his blanket, and got in bed with him. “Ariel, you can’t do this,” he said, moving as far away as he could get from her. If the bed weren’t up against the wall, he would have gotten out. But what was he to do? Climb over her?
“I was good today, wasn’t I?” she asked softly.
Her arms were behind her head and she was staring at the ceiling. Light came in from the hallway and made her face look like that of an angel’s. “Ariel …”
“Yes, David?” she said, turning and looking at him.
David’s back was slammed against the wall. There was about two inches of space between their bodies. “Exactly what are you playing at?”
She turned over on her back again. “Remember the day you took me out on the motorcycle?”
“Yeah. Could you move that way a bit and give me some room?”
Ariel didn’t move. “Why didn’t you kiss me that day? We were sixteen and alone and—”
“Untouchable,” David said, beginning to become annoyed. “You were and are the ice princess. No one dares touch you.”
She turned her head to look at him. “My mother is the ice queen so that makes me the ice princess?”
“Ariel, you may think I’m just your boy companion, but I can assure you that I’m a man.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I am at last beginning to realize that.”
“Ariel …” David said as he reached out his hand and touched her cheek.
In a second, she was in his arms.
David held back. He looked into her eyes and said, “Are you sure?”
“Totally,” she said. “Completely.”
Smiling, he kissed her lips gently, knowing how innocent she was, how completely untouched she was.
Ariel drew back. “Is this how you feel about me? Is this all there is?”
“Ariel,” David said softly, “you’re a virgin. You’re—”
Frowning, she sat up in bed, then grabbed the front of the nightgown with both hands and pulled. Fabric tore; buttons went flying. “I’m a woman!” she said.
Laughing, David grabbed her. “Yeah? Are you?” He put his hand behind her head and pulled her down on the bed. When his mouth came down on top of hers, all Ariel could do was murmur yes.
Chapter Twenty