She rechecked the key, turned it to off then back to on again. Then she went through the entire procedure a second time. Still, nothing happened. She didn’t move.
Rain was coming down harder now, and the clouds had blocked the last vestige of the blue sky. The wind was picking up, whipping the fat raindrops sideways through the open cart.
Kaitlin whacked her palm against the steering wheel in frustration. The timing could not have been worse.
It might be a dead battery, or it might be a malfunction. Either way, she was well and truly stuck. She retrieved her cell phone, speed dialing Lindsay’s number.
The call went immediately to voice mail.
Kaitlin left a message, hoping Lindsay wasn’t holed up somewhere in Dylan’s arms.
Okay, so she really didn’t hope that. If Lindsay truly wanted to fulfill her pirate fantasy, then Kaitlin hoped that was exactly where she was. But she hoped it wasn’t a long fantasy. And she truly wished she’d jotted down Zach’s cell phone number when they’d joked about it this morning. She might not be lost in his castle, but she could certainly use his help.
She glanced around the wind-and rain-swept meadow, the tombstones jutting shadows in the gloom. She told herself there were still a couple of hours until dark, so there was plenty time for Lindsay to get her message. And how long could a person possibly frolic in bed with a pirate?
Okay. Bad question.
Thunder rumbled above Kaitlin, and a burst of wind gusted sideways, splattering the raindrops against her face.
Then again, maybe Ginny would wake up from her nap and tell them Kaitlin had gone to the cemetery. Assuming Ginny remembered that Kaitlin had gone to the cemetery. Would Ginny recall that?
Kaitlin peered once again at the tombstones on the horizon. She wasn’t wild about sitting here in a graveyard in the middle of a thunderstorm. Not that she was afraid of ghosts. And if any of Zach’s ancestors were ghosts, she had a feeling they’d be friendly. Still, there was a horror-movie aspect to the situation that made her jumpy.
The rain beat down harder, gusting in from all sides, and soaking everything inside the cart. Her shorts grew wet. Her bare legs became streaked with rivulets of water through the dust from the meadow. And her socks and running shoes were soaking up raindrops at an alarming rate.
She rubbed the goose bumps on her bare arms, wishing she’d put on something more than a sleeveless blouse. Too bad she hadn’t tossed a sweater in the backseat.
Lightning flashed directly above her, and a clap of thunder rumbled ominously through the dark sky. It occurred to her that the golf cart was made of metal, and that she was sitting on the highest point on the island.
She wasn’t exactly a Boy Scout, but she did know that that particular combination could be dangerous. Fine, she’d walk already.
There was still plenty of light to see the trail. It was all downhill, and it couldn’t be more than forty-five minutes, an hour tops, to get back to Dylan’s house.
“What do you mean, she’s not here?” Zach studied a disheveled Dylan, then Lindsay. He didn’t need to know what they’d been doing. Though it was completely obvious to anyone what they’d been doing. “Where would she be?” he demanded.
He’d checked the rose garden over an hour ago. He’d also combed through the entire castle, including the attic rooms and the staff quarters. And he’d just confirmed that Aunt Ginny was napping in her room. So the two of them weren’t together.
“Maybe she went to the beach?” Lindsay ventured, ineffectually smoothing her messy hair.
“When was the last time you saw her?” asked Zach.
Dylan and Lindsay exchanged guilty looks.
“Never mind.” What they’d been doing for the past three hours was none of his business. And they certainly weren’t Kaitlin’s babysitters.
“She can’t be far,” Dylan said. “We’re on an island.”
Zach agreed. There were only so many places she could be without having flown away on a chopper or taken a boat. And she didn’t do either of those things.
There was the chance that she’d fallen off a cliff.
He instantly shut that thought down. Kaitlin wasn’t foolish. He was sure she was fine. He watched the rain pounding against the dark window. It seemed unlikely she’d stay outside in this. So maybe she was already back at the castle. He could call—
Wait a minute.
“You’ve got her cell number,” he said to Lindsay.
“Right.” Lindsay reached for her pockets. Then she glanced around, looking puzzled.
After a few seconds, Dylan stepped in. “I’ll check the pool house.”
Zach shook his head in disgust. He did not want to know the details of their tryst. He pulled out his own phone. “Just tell me her number.”