Honey looks back and forth between Hart and me as Sweet-N-Low starts to whine in her arms.
“You can meet her up in New Orleans, tomorrow afternoon,” Hart tells her. “And the two of you can still get out before the worst of it hits.”
“Weather will be bad by then,” Honey says. “Roads will be clogged.”
“We’ll make it,” I say.
Honey knows she’s fighting a losing battle. “You two make sure you’re on that boat. You understand? Come hell or high water.”
“We’ll be on the boat,” I promise. “All three of us.” And I squeeze Hart’s hand again.
Honey sighs. “I’ll meet you at the Coast Guard station in New Orleans. Tomorrow afternoon. And we’ll hightail it up to Shreveport. Hart, you tell your mama we’ll take you up with us. Evie, too.”
“Sure,” Hart says. “Okay.”
We walk Honey outside, and Hart takes Sweet-N-Low and gets him settled in the boat. Then he gives him a good scratch behind the ears. “Good luck, old boy,” he says.
“Look at me, Grey.” Honey lays her hands on each side of my face. “After your mama died, I wanted to protect you. So I hid things. And that was wrong. I’ll tell you anything else you want to know, whenever you’re ready. No more secrets. Not between you and me. Not ever. I promise.”
“You can tell me tomorrow,” I say. “On the drive up to Shreveport.”
“Tomorrow.” She nods. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
Honey hugs me tight, and I tell her I love her. Then Hart helps her into the boat, and she and Sweet-N-Low start off toward Kinter with a load of grateful passengers. I stare after them until they take the cut into the bayou.
“Come on,” Hart says when we can’t see them any more. “No sense wastin’ time. Let’s you and me head out to Keller’s Island. See what we can find.”
I trade my flip-flops for mud boots before I follow him down the wooden steps to where he’s parked the four-wheeler out behind Honey’s shed.
I climb up behind Hart and try to swallow the bad taste in my mouth. But it doesn’t go away. When we splash through Li’l Pass, I glance back over my shoulder. I’m looking for the reassuring white gleam of the boardwalk, but all I see is swamp. And, to the south, those wispy storm clouds twisting at the edges. The outer bands of the storm.
It’s a long, miserable ride out to Keller’s Island, and it seems like hours before the thick trees finally rise up to greet us. Hart stops the noisy four-wheeler a half mile or so back, then he grabs his rifle off the gun mount and we slog the rest of the way on foot. By the time we reach the ring of cypress trees that marks the edge of the island, I’m soaking wet and covered head to toe in mud.
We push our way through tangles of honeysuckle and wild blackberries, and Hart moves in front of me as we get closer to the clearing. He takes the rifle off his back and lifts it to his shoulder. Ready for whatever.
Ready for Zale.
We barely breathe as we inch our way toward the cabin. Toward Zale’s campsite. I’ve been so focused on helping Honey get things ready for the storm. Plus worrying about Evie. I haven’t dared to let myself think about Zale. But now those blue eyes take up all the space in my mind.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” I whisper. “Maybe whatever’s happened to Evie doesn’t have anything to do with Zale.” Hart doesn’t respond. “Maybe whatever happened to Elora didn’t have anything to do with him, either.”
Hart stops and turns on me. “You’re in love with him.”
I’m not prepared for his words. Or for the look on his face.
“That’s nuts,” I say. “I don’t even know him.”
Not really.
Hart shakes his head. And I remember who I’m talking to.
“Lots of people fall in love with monsters,” he tells me. “Only they don’t realize it until it’s too late.” Hart’s dark curls are plastered to his forehead, and his shirt is soaked clean through with sweat. But he still looks cold. Like there’s some part of him that can’t quite get warm. “My mama did.” He’s standing there in front of me, words seeping out of open wounds. “Elora sure as hell did.”
“Hart –”
“I guess you did, too.”
He turns and heads farther in, and I can’t do anything except follow him and wonder if he’s right.
It’s all for nothing, though. Because there’s no trace of Evie at Keller’s Island. And there’s no trace of Zale, either. Even all his stuff is gone. We search every square inch of high ground.