The Gardener Page 6

  “Okay.” Still holding her hand, I slipped down onto the floor and laid my head on the bed, just looking at her profile. Her grip was still strong. I’d never held a girl’s hand before.

  Part of me was jumping up and down happy that somehow I could make this strange lovely girl feel protected. But I didn’t know if I was her protector or her kidnapper. Was her story about the place before the Haven true? Did anyone else know? Part of me wanted to call my mom, make her tell me everything she knew about the girl.

  But another part didn’t want to know any more. As long as I was a little ignorant of reality, I could enjoy the present moment. As soon as reality infringed on that, even one fact about who she was or who might be looking for her or how much trouble I was in, my little fantasy moment would shatter. Maybe there was a connection between this girl and TroDyn, or maybe Jack and I were being paranoid. In the morning, we’d take her back and that would be it.

  Her hand pulled on mine. “You can sleep up here.”

  I didn’t argue.

  Sliding up on the bed, I kept one foot on the floor. But then she slid over and patted the space beside her. Still under the covers, she rolled away from me but pulled my hand with her, so that I ended up curled against her back, the bulky covers between us, one of my arms around her and the other arm under my head. Leaning forward just slightly, my face was in her hair and I inhaled. I asked, “Did you remember your name?”

  She didn’t answer at first. Then I felt her shake her head no. “Does it matter?”

  “No,” I lied.

  Soon her breathing slowed and steadied itself. My eyes shut, but there was no way I would be able to sleep, lying so close to her. Still, I wouldn’t want to miss a moment of it. I wished I knew her name.

  When Jack woke me up, I was facing away from her, my head on the edge of the bed, my face in drool.

  He raised one thumb and both eyebrows.

  I flipped him off.

  Quickly, I sat up and wiped my face on my sleeve. The girl was still asleep.

  In the kitchen, there was a fresh pot of coffee. I poured myself a cup and joined Jack at the table.

  He had a huge grin on his face. “Dude!”

  “Shut up, Jack. She just wanted me to sleep with her.” I scrunched my eyes shut as I realized how that sounded.

  He whistled.

  “No, just sleep. Believe me.” I squinted at the clock on the stove, but the digital numbers blurred. “What time is it?”

  Jack yawned. “About nine.”

  I stirred in some powdered creamer and asked, “Why did you interrupt my perfect moment, anyway?”

  “I was lonely.” Jack grinned. “No, I’m gonna run to the gas station for some juice and donuts. Then we probably should get her back.” He played catch with his keys on his way to the door.

  “Get some real cream, too,” I called after him. Taking my coffee with white creamer clumps into the living room, I stretched out on the couch and grabbed the remote. The satellite showed about a billion channels, but it seemed like the only things on at that hour were cartoons, infomercials, or news programs.

  I was surfing past some woman being interviewed when an item in the bullet list on the screen caught my eye.

  Former TroDyn Scientist

  I turned up the sound. Her name was Dr. Kelly Emerson. I learned she’d been a researcher at TroDyn for several years before starting her own environmental consulting firm. She’d ended up on several presidential committees concerning global warming and was talking about a book she’d written involving the future of food, and the potential adaptation of species to global warming. Survival of the fittest.

  I was disappointed to see the interviewer asked her nothing about TroDyn until the very end. She seemed a little annoyed that the subject got brought up, but her pat reply was no surprise.

  “While my time with TroDyn was enriching to my career, I ultimately decided my best career options lay in another direction, and they amicably accepted my resignation, wishing me well in my new endeavor.”

  After that, TroDyn wasn’t mentioned again.

  I clicked the television off just as Jack returned with small containers of cream and blue packets of sweetener and a plastic tub of powdered-sugar donuts. Jack bit into a donut. His mouth full, he said, “We have a little problem.”

  Reaching over him, I plucked a donut from the tub and bit into it. “What?”

  “When I went into the gas station, there was some guy in a suit asking Lucille questions about a red truck.” Lucille was an older lady who not only owned the gas station but kept an eye on the cabin for Jack’s parents.

  “Yours?” I shoved the rest of the donut in my mouth and chewed.

  “Well, I hid behind the chips before he saw me, but then when he went outside, he stood by the truck for a while, talking on his cell phone.”

  “What did he do when you went back out?”

  He shook his head as he took another bite of donut. “I didn’t. Lucille sent me out the back and had her husband give me a lift. I left the truck there.”

  “Maybe he was some angry husband looking for his wife and she has a red truck? Besides, if someone was looking for us, how would they know we were here?”

  Jack shrugged. “It was dark when we got into town. Even Lucille was surprised to see me, and she’s the town gossip. If she doesn’t know something, no one does.”

  “Do you think someone from Melby Falls knows we have her?” I tapped my fist against my lips. “How?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “There are security cameras in the parking lot at Haven of Peace.”

  I almost spit out my coffee. “Then they probably have it on tape.”

  “About that,” said Jack. “You know, the THEY part? I have a feeling we’re not talking about my supervisor, Suzy, in the geezer ward.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Doubtful. But do you want to wait around to find out? I mean, isn’t this considered kidnapping?”

  Jack tilted his head. “Mace, did you carry her out of the building, kicking and screaming?”

  It was almost the opposite, actually. “Definitely not.”

  Jack scratched his chin. “We’ll take her back, no harm done. It’s not like someone is going to knock on the door in the next five minutes.” But his eyes flicked to the door as if that was exactly what he expected to happen, which made me nervous.

  So I rationalized out loud, my words coming a little faster than usual. “Okay, so what do we know? Facts, all of them.” I started at the beginning. “She was in the nursing home and somehow the words in the DVD woke her up. And she was confused. Scared maybe. Definitely scared when she started ranting about the gardener.”

  Jack’s words also were rushed. “But that’s just part of the story, right? Maybe it’s like when you fall asleep with the television on and then pretty soon the ten o’clock newscaster is in your dream.”

  That made sense. “Maybe,” I said. “Maybe.” But then there was the rest. “But she threw me over the wall, Jack. That makes no sense at all.”

  Jack pursed his lips and looked like he was thinking. “So we have a girl who was catatonic but woke up because of a children’s book. She freaks out and throws a sizable offensive tackle over a wall.”

  The events of the night before ran through my head in order. “Then she held a bottle of Yoo-hoo for three hours before going to sleep for the night.”

  Jack started to pace. “And it was so weird that she freaked out when she saw the lights of TroDyn.”

  Nodding in agreement, I wanted to add something else to the list of bizarreness circling the girl. The scars on her legs. But when I opened my mouth to tell him, I shut it again. For some reason, it didn’t seem right to spill that. Or the story she had told me, which was probably just some strange dream she had, anyway.

  “Man, it’s just all weird.” Jack sat down and leaned back, putting the chair on two legs. “Well, once I get my truck back, you’ll have a three-hour ride to find out what is going on with
this girl.”

  “Maybe even her name,” I said hopefully.

  Just then, she walked into the room.

  I stood up while Jack dropped the chair back onto four legs with a bam.

  Her eyes met mine and she almost smiled.

  “Good morning,” I said. “Sleep okay?”

  “Yes.” She seemed much more clearheaded as she looked around. “But … I hurt here.” She held her stomach, and at that moment, it growled so loud we all heard it.

  Jack grinned. “I would hazard a guess and say you’re hungry.”

  Her forehead creased.

  Walking toward her, I held out my hand. It was like I was dealing with a wild kitten, trying to keep her from running off.

  “You need to eat,” I said, as she put her hand in mine. “You do remember eating?”

  She looked at the donuts on the table.

  I led her to the table, and she sat down.

  “Here.” Jack put a few donuts on a napkin and handed them to her.

  The girl watched Jack shove another donut into his mouth and she copied him, the donut disappearing into her mouth as her cheeks puffed up and she started to chew. Powdered sugar spilled out of her mouth.

  Jack stared openmouthed and I realized I was doing the same.

  I pushed a napkin over toward her as she struggled to keep the donut in. “Jack, I think you’ve met your match.”

  She swallowed. Then her eyes widened and started to water as her hand went over her mouth.

  Jack shook a hand toward the sliding glass door onto the back deck. “Get her out, get her out! My mom’ll kill me if someone pukes in here.”

  I grabbed her and led her over to the door. Outside, she doubled over and threw up every bite she’d just eaten onto the wet grass.

  “Wait here.” Inside, I grabbed a few napkins, which I took back outside and handed to her.

  She wiped her mouth, then straightened up.

  Trying not to stare at her, I looked off toward Mount Adams, except that all the clouds and rain pretty much made it invisible. I asked, “Is that another thing you can’t grab ahold of? Eating?”

  She stepped closer to me but didn’t say anything.

  Facing her again, I lowered my voice. “It’s okay. I haven’t told Jack about that.”

  The corner of her mouth went up. “Thanks.”

  “Listen…” I wasn’t sure how to tell her that she was going back, that I’d be dumping her off at the same place she wanted so desperately to get away from.

  In a flash, her hand reached out and squeezed my arm. She cocked her head to one side, then slowly straightened it. “They’re here.”

  Chills went down my spine at the tone of her voice. “Who’s here?”

  She turned and walked to the end of the deck and looked toward the end of the driveway, where the large gate blocked the view of the road. She pointed. “There. They’re waiting out there.”

  We went back inside, my words running together. “Jack, have you got some binoculars?”

  He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Just show me!”

  Jack shook his head. “No binocs, but my mom’s birding scope is in the closet by the laundry room.”

  As I headed that way, he called, “It cost a ton! Be careful.”

  I found it. “Got a ladder?”

  Jack nodded. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to check the front gate.”

  Jack made an odd face. “So walk out and check the front gate.”

  “I can’t.” I pointed. “There’s someone out there and I don’t want them to see me.”

  He flapped a hand skyward. “So go up on the roof.”

  I handed him the scope. “Duh. That’s why I need a ladder.”

  Outside, there was a slight mist coming down. Jack carried the scope and helped me get the ladder, then climbed up behind me to the edge of the roof. We both shimmied our way up the damp, scratchy, black shingles to the peak, then peered over. A black sedan sat on the opposite side of the road from the gate.

  Jack looked through the scope first, then blew out a breath. “That’s the guy from the gas station.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded.

  I looked next. “Someone’s in the backseat. Looks like a couple of people.”

  Jack said, “Maybe it’s orderlies. Or cops. If they came ready to take her back.”

  “Cops would knock on the door, wouldn’t they?” The view wasn’t close enough to see. I asked, “Does this zoom?”

  While I looked through, Jack turned a knob on the scope, and the occupants of the backseat got bigger and came into focus. I sucked in a quick breath. The people in the backseat weren’t orderlies. Or cops.

  The three people in the backseat were the kids I’d seen sitting next to the girl at Haven of Peace. I breathed out a four-letter word my mother would have slapped me for. What were they doing there? Why? And if they were there, where was my mom? Was she okay?

  “What?” Jack asked. “Who is it?”

  The girl had been right. They %were here.

  I handed the scope back to Jack and motioned for him to climb down. “I’ve seen them before. They’re the others from the sixth floor at the Haven of Peace.” My hands started to tremble. “They’ve come looking for her.”

  “Maybe he’s her dad,” Jack said. “Do we hand her over?”

  Did we just hand her over? I didn’t believe for a second that the guy at the front gate was her dad or anything as simple as that. My gut was screaming the opposite. I looked at Jack. “There’s no way I’m letting her go back there.”

  Jack dropped his head onto his hands. “Oh, man. What did you get us into?”

  SIX

  BACK INSIDE, THE GIRL SAT QUIETLY ON THE COUCH.

  “I have an idea.” Jack headed into the kitchen and made a call from the phone. He said a few words, then came back in, clicking it shut. “Get her dressed, something warm. Then meet me in the CC.”

  Hoping Jack’s idea was better than the big pile of no ideas rambling around my head, I went down the hall to Vanessa’s room. I dug through some drawers until I found a pair of jeans and a pink cable-knit sweater that looked about the girl’s size. Jack’s sister was shorter but tended to wear her pants way too long anyway. Leaving the outfit the girl had arrived in where it lay on the floor, I carried the other things out to her.

  She took them and disappeared into the bathroom. I guess she was remembering how to do things.

  Jack was in the CC, which stood for the Columbia Closet. It actually was a closet, but so huge, well lighted, and stocked, it could have been its own Columbia retail store, for all the gear it held. Jack’s family liked convenience. So rather than hauling clothes and stuff back and forth to the cabin, they simply bought a ton of outdoor gear: coats for all seasons, boots, footwear, hats, gloves, enough for them and their guests. Jack had christened it the CC.

  He handed me a pink jacket.

  I held it up. “Not my color, dude.”

  “It’s for her. You can get your own stuff.”

  I grabbed an XXL blue waterproof coat with a polar fleece lining, and gloves for the girl. I had worn my hiking boots, luckily, and I found a pair of Jack’s that might work for her. Taking my haul out to the living room, I dumped it all on the floor just as she came out of the bathroom. Wearing jeans, the sweater, and her flip-flops, she looked like most of the girls at our high school.

  Except way more beautiful than any of them.

  She was so stunning just standing there that it took me a second to speak as I tried to convince myself that this gorgeous creature had actually asked me to hold her all night. I managed to spit out, “You’ll want some socks.” I held up the boots. “And these will be a little better than the flip-flops.”

  The girl asked, “Are we going outside?”

  “Yep.” Jack walked in. “And we’re not going out the front gate.”

  Putting on my coat, I wondered what his plan was, but he kept ta
lking.

  “Lucille’s place is about three miles through the trails. We can take the ATVs and then borrow her old Dodge truck. She used to let me drive it before I had my license.” When I raised my eyebrows, he grinned. “My dad pays her for watching out for the place. Which is why she drives a Cadillac now and not the old Dodge.”

  Running the trails through my mind, I tried to picture where Lucille’s was. And the only image that came to mind was a house up on the ridge at the end of the trail we had named after Lewis and Clark. Mainly because we’d blazed it ourselves and it was the roughest of them all. “Jack, which trail?”

  He donned a black jacket and zipped. “Lewis and Clark.”

  Not the best of news. “That’s gonna be a mess with all this rain.”

  He nodded. “We’ll go slow.”

  When I just looked at him, he held his hands up and let them drop. “Do we have a choice?”

  No. I was pretty sure we didn’t, and I shook my head. But then I said, “Are we nuts? What if we just call the police, explain it all?”

  The girl touched my arm. “Would they help me? What would they do?”

  I didn’t know. “You’d probably go back to Haven of Peace.”

  Her light touch became a strong grip. “Don’t make me go back there. Please, I’ll go wherever we need to go.”

  “It’s okay.” I rested a hand on hers until she loosened her grip. “But can you tell me about the people out there? I mean, they were with you on the couch at the Haven of Peace.” What I really wanted to know was, was the dark-haired boy a friend? More than a friend? Did she want to go to him?

  “I don’t remember any of that. And I don’t feel … scared exactly. I can feel them, hear them. But I don’t want to go out there.”

  “That’s settled.” Jack clapped his hands, startling me. “Let’s saddle up, people.”

  Jack’s mom was pretty adamant about keeping the ATVs, and accompanying noise, away from the house. So the shed housing all the Arctic Cats was a few hundred yards behind the house, toward the meadow and, luckily, away from the front gate.

  The mist had turned into drizzle. Jack and I put our hoods up for the walk. The girl hadn’t seemed to figure it out, so I stepped in front of her. “Wait.” Reaching out, I pulled her hood up to cover her head. “Better?”