Chapter 15
Lizzie
The party was still going strong at midnight. Music thumped from the pavilion, bass vibrating through the sand. Drunk college kids danced around the bonfire, their shadows flickering against the palm trees. The smell of rum and grilled meat hung in the air.
Lizzie needed to get away from it all.
She walked along the beach, away from the noise and the lights.
Key West lay in the distance, lights flickering from the homes and businesses along the water.
It felt odd, being so removed from everything.
She’d already felt cut off from the world in Key West, but now that she was on an island that wasn’t even connected to the mainland by bridges, she was truly isolated.
The moon was almost full, bright enough to see by. Waves lapped at the shore with a gentle rhythm. Any other night it would be peaceful. Tonight her head was too full of noise.
Sarah-related noise.
Sarah had looked good today. That was the problem.
Sarah always looked good but today had been different.
She’d been in work mode, organizing everything, making sure the festival ran smoothly.
Confident and in control and completely in her element.
Lizzie had caught herself watching more than once.
The way Sarah moved between stations, solving problems before they became disasters.
She’d dressed down, looking cute when locks of hair had escaped their confides.
Then Lizzie remembered the money on the counter and wanted to scream.
How dare Sarah look cute while being a complete asshole? How dare she stand there all competent and beautiful when three days ago, she’d called their night together a mistake?
Lizzie kicked at the sand. This was stupid. She was being stupid. Sarah had made her position clear. Move on.
Except Lizzie couldn’t move on. She kept thinking about Sarah’s hands in her hair, the way she’d whispered Lizzie’s name, how safe it had felt falling asleep in her arms.
Lizzie walked faster, putting distance between herself and the party. The beach curved around the island. She could still hear music, but it was muffled now, distant. The wind was stronger here, or had it just picked up? It whipped in her face, and she saw sand being whisked down the beach.
Hadn’t she heard something about windy conditions coming up? She dismissed the thought.
The path veered inland and Lizzie followed it without really thinking. Then she saw it.
A house. Massive. Set back in a clearing surrounded by overgrown vegetation.
She’d seen the outline of it from the ferry and then again in the distance from the party grounds and wondered what it was.
Now she knew. A mansion. Three stories of white stucco and dark wood, with a wraparound porch and balconies on the upper floors.
It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t so eerie.
Several windows were missing entirely, just dark holes gaping into the interior. Construction materials were stacked on the porch. A ladder leaned against one wall. The whole place had that abandoned look, like someone had started building a dream and then just walked away.
Lizzie shivered despite the warm night. There was something unsettling about it. A home that never got lived in. She turned back toward the beach.
She was halfway back to the party when she heard a yelp. Then a cry.
It wasn’t a drunk-girl-who-lost-her-shoe crying. This was different. Panicked. Desperate.
Lizzie froze. Was someone being attacked? Her heart thundered and her pulse raced as she ran toward the sound. The crying got louder.
“Get it away! Get it away from me!”
Lizzie rushed forward, down a narrow embankment into a small clearing and burst out laughing right there and then.
Cynthia was backed against a tree trunk, sobbing hysterically. Two massive iguanas had her cornered. They weren’t doing anything aggressive, just sitting there watching her with those prehistoric eyes. But Cynthia looked absolutely terrified.
Lizzie couldn’t help it. She laughed.
Cynthia’s head snapped up. Mascara ran down her face in black streaks. “This isn’t funny! Help me! I was looking for better signal for my phone when these two assholes showed up.”
“Oh, I don’t think they like being called assholes.” Lizzie leaned against a tree. “Are you still feeling as brave as you did when you splashed me with your car?”
“Lizzie, please.”
“Please what? Help you? Why should I?”
“Because they’re going to attack me!”
“They’re iguanas, Cynthia. They’re herbivores. They eat plants.”
One of the iguanas took a step forward. Cynthia shrieked and pressed harder against the tree.
“They are probably diseased! Please. I’m begging you.”
Lizzie let her sweat for another minute and watched Cynthia’s face go red and blotchy from crying. Then she noticed something else. The way Cynthia was standing with one leg crossed over another. And then she saw the dark stain spreading down the front of her white shorts.
Oh.
Cynthia had peed herself.
Their eyes met. Cynthia realized Lizzie had noticed. Fresh tears spilled down her face.
“Fine.” Lizzie walked toward the iguanas, clapping her hands. “Come on. Shoo. Get out of here.”
The iguanas regarded her with magnificent indifference for a moment. Then they slowly turned and ambled away.
Cynthia slid down the tree trunk until she was sitting in the dirt, still crying. She pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to hide the wet stain on her shorts.
“You tell anyone about this,” Cynthia’s voice came out choked, “and I’ll ruin you. I swear to god, Lizzie. I’ll make your life hell.”
Lizzie looked at her. Cynthia Shaw, who never had a hair out of place, who sailed through college on her parents’ money and her pretty face, was sitting in the dirt with mascara running down her cheeks and piss on her shorts, threatening Lizzie like she still had any power here. It was sad, really.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Lizzie said.
Cynthia stared at her, searching for the catch.
“I mean it. This stays between us.”
Cynthia scrambled to her feet and ran before Lizzie could say anything else.
Lizzie walked back to the beach. The party was winding down now. People were drifting toward the camping area, couples walking hand in hand, groups of friends laughing and stumbling through the sand.
She found her tent in the section reserved for staff. It was small but adequate. Sleeping bag, pillow, battery-powered lantern. She changed into sleep clothes and crawled inside.
The night was warm and humid. Perfect weather. She could hear waves in the distance, the occasional burst of laughter from someone still partying. Lizzie closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
***
The first rumble of thunder came around two AM waking Lizzie up. The sound was distant but unmistakable. She checked her phone and saw it. A severe weather alert.
Crap!
The second rumble was closer. Louder. The tent walls rippled as wind picked up.
She scrambled outside and immediately saw that this was serious.
Palm trees thrashed. Th waves were much larger than she’d ever seen.
The wind whipped in her face. Some tents unzipped with sleepy college kids peering out, bleary eyed.
The sky to the west was black. Not nighttime black. Storm black. Lightning flickered inside the clouds, illuminating them from within like a lamp behind dark fabric.
“Lizzie, come on.” Sarah’s voice came. Sarah was in a track suit, or maybe pajamas. Whatever it was, it was a striking difference from her usual attire.
“What’s up with the weather?”
“It’s a storm. It was supposed to move south of us, and we weren’t supposed to get anything, but it seems to have shifted over the past few hours.
Damn. I told Stavros we should cancel.” She stomped one foot in the sand, a remarkable break from her usual composure.
The wind blew her hair in every direction and her eyes darted around the space.
“Ok, so we call the ferries and get everyone back to Key West. I’m sure there’s insurance for the rest of the stuff?”
Sarah shook her head. “No can do. I already called. They’re busy securing the harbor. We’re supposed to shelter in place.”
“Shelter in place?” Lizzie’s voice came out more hysterical than she’d wanted. “We only have tents.”
“We don’t.” Sarah shook her head. “We have the house.”
“House?” Lizzie didn’t know what she was talking about but then it came to her. “The under-construction house at the far side of the island?”
“Yeah. It’s mine. Or Billy’s. He wanted to make it into a home for us.
The previous owners started building it but didn’t finish it.
We started on when we first moved here but after a while I realized I didn’t want to live so far from everything, so we got a house on Key Haven instead.
Anyway, he meant to finish construction and turn it into a getaway house we could rent out, but he never finished. ”
“Can we get all the kids in there?”
“Yeah, if we hurry.”
Around them, more tents unzipped and groggy spring breakers filed out. Carlos, Rita, and Maria stumbled over, all of them in track suits. Sarah filled them in on the situation.
“Dios,” Maria groaned. “This is exactly what you told Stavros might happen.”
“Yup, but fortunately, I ignored the board. I’ve been stocking up on emergency supplies throughout the year, and the second I saw there might be storm, I made sure to send extras of everything over the last week.
Rita, pack up your stuff, take whatever you can over to the main house.
Maria, same thing. Wake up your team. Take the grills, coolers, everything you can over there before the weather gets worse. Lizzie, help them.”
She spun around to Carlos.
“Get the rest of guests up, Carlos,” Sarah ordered and Carlos got right to it.
“Everyone up!” That was Carlos’s voice, loud and urgent. “Storm coming in. We need to move. Now!”
“What’s happening?” Someone called out from the back.