Chapter 7
SEVEN
THE BEACH BELOW THE VILLA
By the time the day’s heat broke, the light turned gold. Ford stood barefoot at the edge of the villa’s back terrace, a glass of water sweating in his hand. His pulse steadied under his skin, regular and strong.
He didn’t mean to leave the villa. The instructions were clear: rest, hydrate, report for recheck in the morning. No wandering. No exertion. But the air inside grew too still.
A little exploration wouldn’t hurt. He moved slowly down the narrow stone steps carved into the slope behind the villa.
The path wasn’t manicured. It looked worn by staff and the occasional guest who wanted privacy instead of perfection.
It emptied onto a stretch of darker sand below, wilder than the resort’s polished beachfront. The tide rolled in long, even breaths.
He almost didn’t see her at first. A small figure sat near the high-tide line, knees drawn to her chest, a stuffed turtle clutched so tightly, its one remaining eye was pressed flat against her cheek.
“Véronique,” he called.
She looked up slowly. Her eyes were glassy, not from tears, though there were some, but from exhaustion. “You’re here.”
His stomach dropped. He crossed the sand faster than he should have, ignoring the brief protest in his calves. “What are you doing down here?” He crouched in front of her. “Where’s Kavi? Where are the others?”
She shook her head, curls sticking to her damp forehead. “Doctor Eira said you were five minutes by Jeep,” she whispered. “I walked.”
He glanced down the shoreline and back up the cliff path. It wasn’t a straight shot. It wound. It climbed. It cut through brush and uneven stone. For a child her size, it would have taken more than an hour and strength.
“Does anyone know you left?” he asked gently.
She shrugged, but her body swayed slightly with the motion. Her legs were streaked with sand and dirt. One knee was scraped. Her lips were dry.
“Why?” he asked softly.
She swallowed. “You left.”
He exhaled slowly. “I told you I was going back to my villa.”
“I didn’t know where that was.”
“Oh, baby girl. Come here.” He slid one arm beneath her legs and the other around her back and lifted her carefully. She weighed almost nothing. Her head dropped immediately against his shoulder, the turtle wedged between them.
“Okay,” he promised, “we’re fixing this.”
She didn’t argue or resist. She just leaned into him like she did in the garden, only heavier now with fatigue.
He carried her up the path more carefully than he came down.
His heart rate ticked up with the incline, and the halter monitor tugged faintly against his chest. So, he paced himself.
By the time he reached the terrace, she was trembling.
He brought her inside and settled her gently onto the couch. The villa suddenly felt too large.
“Stay right here,” he said, though she was already too tired to move. He grabbed a blanket off the chair and bottled water from the fridge, cracked the seal, and held it to her lips. “Small sips,” he instructed softly.
She listened. After a few swallows, he opened the paper bag Eira sent earlier and unwrapped the protein bar. He broke it into small pieces and handed them to her one at a time. “Chew.”
She did. The little girl trusted him.
He reached for his phone and dialed. Karine answered on the first ring, “Yes.”
“It’s Ford. I need the Defender.”
“Location?”
“The villa. I’ve got Véronique with me. She walked here.”
Silence sharpened on the other end. “Alone?”
“Alone.”
“I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and returned to the couch. Véronique’s eyelids were drooping. The water bottle tilted in her hand. He eased it away and adjusted the throw blanket over her shoulders. “You scared me,”
She blinked slowly. “I was brave,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he agreed. “You were.”
Her fingers tightened once around her turtle before she fell asleep.
Ford sat beside her, one hand resting lightly at her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.
His own heart beat hard from adrenaline, protective instinct, and the sharp awareness of what could have happened if she took a wrong turn on that path.
Five minutes by Jeep. At least an hour on foot for a healthy adult. He stared toward the tree line, his jaw tight.
Karine called back two minutes later. “Eira’s line is ringing but not connecting. Garden reception can drop during weather.”
Ford thought about the cliff path. She’d been gone at least an hour. If Eira didn’t know yet…
His heart rate ticked upward beneath the halter monitor. “Eira’s going to realize soon. I don’t want her searching blind.”
He shifted Véronique gently, scanning her pupils and checking her pulse at the side of her neck. It beat strongly. “It’s okay.”
When the sound of the Defender’s engine cut through the hush of surf, he scooped her up.
Véronique was fully limp in sleep against him.
Ford didn’t relax because Eira was either about to discover Véronique’s absence or was already running.
And the thought of her tearing down that terrain in a panic tightened something deep and dangerous in his chest.
“I tried calling the doctor again,” Karine said softly. “Still nothing.”
Ford’s eyes flicked once toward the ridge. “She’ll be coming.”
He held Véronique, careful of her head and the turtle still clutched in her hand. She didn’t stir.
GARDEN ARCHWAY
The garden behind the clinic was usually Eira’s reset point.
Late afternoon light filtered through the palm fronds and painted the stone in warm gold.
Even under outbreak protocol, she kept structure in place.
Everyone stayed in small groups, masks were required when close, and hand sanitizer stations were set up at every archway.
Routine meant safety. Safety meant control.
She stood near the herb beds reviewing a chart on her tablet while Liana coordinated dinner rotations for the children. Kavi was lobbying for extra bread. Two of the older girls were refilling water dispensers.
It took three seconds for her to register something was off. “Véronique?” she called absently, eyes still on the screen.
There was no answer. She looked up. The low wall near the mango tree, which was Véronique’s usual perch, was empty. There was no small figure with a stuffed turtle.
Eira’s spine went rigid. “Where’s Véronique?” she asked, sharper now.
Liana turned, scanning. “I’ll go check inside.” Moments later, she returned. “There’s no sign of her.”
“Who saw her last and when?” Eira’s tone changed.
“I really don’t know. We got Mr. Varga and regular patients.” Liana started to check with the house volunteers and teens.
Five minutes was too long. Eira moved instantly, crossing the courtyard in long strides. “Kavi.”
The boy froze.
“Have you seen Véronique?”
He hesitated. “She said she was going to look for something.”
“What was she looking for?” Eira pressed.
His eyes dropped. “For Ford.”
The name hit her hard. Eira’s pulse spiked so fast her ears rang. “Where?”
“She said you told her he was five minutes by Jeep,” Kavi rushed out. “She thought she could walk.”
For a moment, the world narrowed. Five minutes by Jeep.
That path was rock, brush, and uneven slope. For a six-year-old, it was over an hour. Maybe more. “How long ago?” she asked, voice dangerously controlled.
“She went… after art?”
Cold swept through her chest. That was almost ninety minutes ago. Who was watching her? This was her fault. Her phone wouldn’t connect. She moved rapidly toward the clinic entrance to radio island patrol from there.
“This is Dr. Montgomery,” she said without breaking stride. “We have a missing child. Female. Six. Name Véronique Talbot. Last seen approximately ninety minutes ago. Possible direction: south cliff path toward the Cordon Noir villas.”
Her mind ran the terrain like a trauma map. Falls. Heat exhaustion. Getting turned around. “I’m heading down the south path now,” she added. “Send a unit to sweep from the lower access road.”
“Copy,” Dispatch replied.
She ripped her mask from her face and broke into a run.
She cleared the last bend in the path just as the Defender rolled fully into the clearing. Her gaze swept the beach first. As she looked up, she saw Ford standing beside the vehicle—and the small body in his arms. Everything in her went still. He met her halfway.
“She’s stable,” he said before she could ask. “Dehydrated. Exhausted. I gave her water. Protein. She fell asleep about ten minutes ago. I found her on the shore. We tried to reach you.”
Eira didn’t respond immediately. She moved straight to Véronique, fingers sliding to the child’s pulse point, then her forehead, then her sternum to count breaths.
Her touch was quick. But her hands trembled once before she steadied them.
“Respirations normal,” she murmured. “Heart rate elevated but appropriate for exertion.”
She exhaled slowly. Relief didn’t look dramatic on her. It looked like tension unwinding in small bits. “I lost track of her,” she said, more to herself than to him.
“She walked for at least an hour. She was determined.”
Eira’s eyes closed briefly. “I told her you were five minutes by Jeep. I should have been clearer.”
“She heard what she needed to hear,” Ford said. “She thought I’d left.”
Eira opened her eyes and looked at him fully. “You didn’t have to carry her back up that path.” Her gaze dropped briefly to his chest where the monitor leads hid beneath fabric. “You’re still on telemetry.”
“I paced myself. Heart rate stayed under the threshold.”
Karine, standing near the Defender, cleared her throat softly. “Doctor, I attempted to call you. Reception dropped.”
“I was in the lower garden,” Eira replied. “Signal’s unreliable there.”
“She’s here,” he said evenly. “She’s fine.”
Eira nodded. “Thank you.” This time, the words carried the burden.
Karine closed the rear door of the Defender. “I’ll notify patrol to stand down.”