And I’ll alert the other deputies to do the same. “
“Thanks, Don.”
He glanced at the two cars in the driveway.
“At least get your cars to higher ground.”
She hadn’t even thought of that, a sure sign her” brain was not functioning as it should.
“Okay,” she said.
Chloe stepped onto the porch.
“Hi, Don,” she said.
“Hey, Sister,” the deputy replied.
“I was telling Daria here you folks really need to leave.”
“Was anyone at the church?” Daria asked her sister.
“No answer.”
Daria turned to Don. “Is there a chance you could check St. Esther’s Church?” she asked.
“We thought Shelly might be there. She’d probably be hiding from anyone trying to find her, though.”
“Bruce is patrolling that area,” Don said.
“I’ll radio him to check it out.”
After Don drove away, Daria, Chloe and Rory moved their cars west of the deserted beach road. They plowed headfirst into the wind and rain as they walked back to the Sea Shanty, and it took both Rory and Daria to get the porch door open. Daria knew that once they were inside, they wouldn’t be going anywhere—and that the likelihood of Shelly being returned to them that night was slim. She could only hope that her younger sister was safe, sleeping peacefully on a pew in St.
Esther’s.
They cracked the Sea Shanty windows open an inch or so, then gathered candles and a hurricane lantern in case the lights went out. Sitting together in the living room,
they watched the progress of the storm on television. The weather reporter was drenched and windblown, even though he was now stationed on the mainland, having evacuated himself and his camera crew from the Outer Banks. The eye of the storm was headed for Hatteras, the reporter said. At least Kill Devil Hills would not get the full brunt of it. Still, the swirling vortex of clouds on the weather map was spinning directly over them.
It was only the clock that told them when it was time for dinner. None of them was very hungry, and there was little food in the cottage, but Daria found some cheese and a couple of cans of soup in one of the cupboards.
“I have some bread over at Poll-Rory,” Rory offered.
“You can’t go out there.” Daria looked toward the window, where the storm shutter prevented her from seeing outside. Even so, she knew the night was black as pitch, and the sounds of the wind and the sea were ferocious.
“You’ll blow away.”
“I think there are some rolls in the freezer,” Chloe said.
They put together a dinner of cheese sandwiches and lentil soup and ate it at the kitchen table.
“We’re nuts to be here,” Daria said. She was thinking ahead. How would they know if the sea came up too high? Should they stay upstairs, just in case? She had faith in the Sea Shanty’s construction and foundation, yet she could still remember how the Trumps’ cottage had looked as it floated out to sea. That had been a winter storm, she kidded herself. This summer hurricane could simply not be that bad.
They had just finished washing and drying the dishes, when the lights nickered twice, then went off, plunging them into darkness.
Daria felt around on the counter until her hands landed on the flashlight, and she turned it on.
“Wherever Shelly is, she’s going to be terrified,” she said.
“Well, then maybe the next time she won’t be this foolish.” Chloe’s words sounded harsher than the tone of her voice. Daria knew she was as worried about Shelly as she was.
“Where did you put the lantern?” Rory asked.
“In the living room,” Daria said.
“Let’s all go in there. That’s where the radio is.”
In the living room, they lit the lantern and a couple of candles.
Chloe sat on the couch, and Rory took a seat in the chair next to the radio, but Daria stood by one of the windows, trying to see outside through the cracks in the storm shutters. She wished they had heard something from Don about finding Shelly at St. Esther’s. No news was bad news.
“Sit down, Daria,” Chloe said.
“There’s nothing we can do to help Shelly at this point.”
Daria sat down in a chair. Chloe was right. Worrying was not going to help.
Thunder began rumbling above the cottage, and flashes of lightning pierced the cracks in the shutters. They listened to the radio for a while through the static, but it soon seemed pointless. They were closer to the hurricane than any of the newscasters, and they turned off the radio and simply sat, listening to the storm.
