though, without explaining his new senses.
“I wonder if the guys who came here in that boat found the cave and went inside to look for the treasure,” Nate said. “Maybe that’s where they are now.”
“I hope not. That cave is ours.”
They munched the energy bars and drank the bottled water. Time passed. Devin was about to suggest that they dig out another round of energy bars when he heard the low rumble of voices. The sound did not come from the nearby woods where the Preserve fence began. It emanated from the hidden entrance to the treasure cave down on the beach.
“I don’t believe it,” he said softly. “They
“Yeah,” Nate said. “But they’re leaving now. We’ve still got plenty of time to look for the treasure.”
Down below two men squeezed out of the slit in the rock face and emerged into the open. A jolt of fear flashed through Devin when he saw the mag-rez pistols on their hips. Beside him, Nate froze, too.
“Oh, shit,” Nate whispered. “They must be smugglers or drug runners.”
Real-life pirates, Devin thought. He felt a terrible prickling sensation on the back of his neck.
“Come on, we’d better get out of here,” he said.
“If we move they might see us,” Nate said.
“Okay, okay.”
Devin stilled. Beside him, Nate seemed hardly to breathe.
As if sensing that they were being observed, one of the men glanced up. His eyes locked with Devin’s. He reached for his gun.
“Company,” he snarled to his companion.
The other man looked up. “Couple of kids.”
“Doesn’t matter. They’ve seen us.”
Both men bounded up the trail that would take them to the top of the cliff. They moved very fast, faster than Devin had seen anyone move in his entire life.
He jumped to his feet. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Nate watched the men coming up the cliff trail. It was as if he were paralyzed with fear.
“Come
Nate scrambled to his feet. “We’ll never make it. They’ve got guns.”
“They can’t follow us into the Preserve.”
“We can’t get inside, either.”
“I think maybe I can get us in,” Devin said.
He did not know where the knowledge came from. Some voice inside his head was screaming at him that the Preserve was their only hope. He ran for the trees, hauling Nate with him.
“What about the fence?” Nate gasped.
“I think I can get you through it. Just don’t let go of my hand, okay?”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not like we have any choice.”
He sensed the first jarring sparks that told him they were entering the strange energy field that marked the outer boundary of the invisible fence. Beside him Nate sucked in a sharp, startled breath.
“You okay?” Devin asked.
“Yeah. I think so. I’ve never been this far inside. It hurts.”
Devin risked a glance back over his shoulder.
The men were at the top of the cliff now.
“They’re heading into the Preserve,” one of the smugglers shouted. “We can’t let them get away.”
Devin heard gunshots but neither he nor Nate went down so he figured the shooters had missed. He ran as fast as he could. Nate pounded along beside him. The freaky energy was pulsing all around them now. It was like running through a lightning storm, Devin thought. Jolt after jolt shot through him but he pushed his new senses as hard as he could and the pain of the shocks seemed to diminish. Nate gripped his hand harder.
“I can’t see them anymore,” one of the gunmen shouted. “I can feel the fence. This is as far as we can go.”
Both men slammed to a halt.
“Forget ’em,” the second man said. “The Preserve will take care of them for us.”
Chapter 18
“HOW DID YOUR DATE WITH CHARLOTTE GO LAST night?” Myrna asked from the doorway of the office.
Slade did not look up from the list of names on the computer screen. “If one more person asks me that question, I may have to fire everyone in the department.”
Rex was on the desk. He had his beaded clutch open and was busy selecting paperclips to go inside. He paused long enough to chortle a greeting to Myrna. She went to the desk and patted him a couple of times. Then she studied Slade.
“Fire everyone, hmm?” she said. “All two of us?”
“Yes.”
“Did things go that badly or that well?”
He pretended that he had not heard the question. “Where’s Willis? Did he finish checking out the alibis of Gaines’s known associates?”
Kirk Willis materialized in the doorway. “Just finished the last one, Chief.” He walked into the office and put a file folder down in front of Slade. “None of the people on your list seems to have been anywhere near the island in the past year, let alone on the night Gaines died. What’s our next move?”
Slade turned away from the screen and opened the folder. “There’s a rule that applies to situations like this. It comes from an Old World investigator, Sherlock somebody. Something to the effect that once you have excluded the probable, whatever remains, however improbable, is the answer.”
Myrna frowned. “What the heck does that mean?”
“It means,” Slade said, “that there’s a high probability that our killer is still here on the island.”
Kirk and Myrna stared at him, disbelief in their eyes.
“You really think so?” Kirk asked, dubious but intrigued.
“Yes,” Slade said.
“I can’t believe that any of the locals is a killer,” Myrna said slowly. “This is such a small town. Everyone knows everyone else.”
“You’re forgetting the B&Bs that are scattered around the island and the folks attending those Reflection Retreats out at the lake lodge,” Slade reminded her. “We can get the names and addresses of the guests from the innkeepers.”
“What, exactly, are we looking for?” Myrna asked. “We already know most of them probably don’t have solid alibis. Any one of them could have snuck out of a B&B or the lodge and met up with Gaines at Looking Glass.”
“But most of them probably aren’t serious collectors of the kind of antiques that Charlotte handles,” Slade said.
Kirk brightened. “You want me to see if I can find out if any of them are collectors?”
“I want to know about any connections at all that any of them might have to the antique or antiquities trade.”
“I can do that,” Kirk said.
“I know you can,” Slade said. “But do it quietly. I don’t want the killer to get the idea that we think we have a
