Kingsley stopped talking. She thought he had fallen asleep. She searched the room, this time opening all the drawers, taking the light and examining the inside of each. Looking for even a nail file stuck between joints. All the drawers were empty. Nothing.
Diane sat down on the only chair in the room, a plain wooden chair with no cushion. It squeaked when she sat down. She was feeling guilty about Kingsley. Maybe if she hadn’t struggled with Joey the way she had, he wouldn’t have been shot. She had been clumsy and slow and used bad judgment. The only thing she could do now was get him out of here.
She took the lamp around to all the corners of the room, looking for anything. She looked under the bed. The floors were wooden, dark with age like the rest of the room. She walked back and forth, searching for anything that may have been dropped, listening for a squeak in the boards. Most of them did squeak, but she couldn’t pry any of them up. She went along the walls looking for loose stone. She found a couple, but they were not loose enough. Maybe she could use the chair leg. She went back to the chair to see how easy it would be to take apart and use a leg as a tool or a weapon.
‘‘Don’t you think you need your rest?’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘I need to get us out of here,’’ she said.
‘‘This isn’t your fault. It’s mine, if anyone’s,’’ he said.
Diane pulled the chair over to the bed and sat down.
‘‘Whoever’s fault it is, we need to get out,’’ she said. ‘‘You told the marshals you thought that if Clymene were cornered, she would give up to fight another day. Do you still believe that?’’
‘‘Yes, I do. But I have to tell you, now that I’m here in her clutches, I’m not quite as sure,’’ he said. He reached for her hand. He felt warm.
‘‘My wife is expecting me to check in with her. I’m sure Frank is expecting you to check in with him. I don’t know about Frank, but if my wife thinks something is wrong, she will worry the FBI until they do something. Several people know we went to see Carley Volker, including the marshals. The Volkers will tell them Gramma gave us directions to the island. If we can stay alive, we will be rescued. I think the best thing for you to do is to rest like I am. I’m fine; I’m just conserving my energy.’’
Diane got up and tried looking out a slit in the closest window. She could just see a sliver of ground. Maybe she could pry the boards off this window. There was something she could see out there if she could just get the right angle. She tried to remember the image she saw driving up to the building. A field? A pond? Not that anything outside could help her in here.
‘‘Come lie down beside me. You said we needed to eat and drink because it would be our last opportunity. That’s also true of rest,’’ said Kingsley. ‘‘You don’t have to sleep. Just rest.’’
He was right. She was just using up energy. She put the chair by the door just so they could hear the noise if someone opened it. Kingsley scooted over and Diane lay down. It was not a comfortable bed and she was tense. She tried to relax.
‘‘I implemented a plan just before Rose came in the door,’’ she said.
‘‘Oh? What was that?’’ he asked.
‘‘I put my cell phone under the chest of drawers,’’ she said.
‘‘That’s such a clever plan. I wish I had thought of it,’’ he said.
Diane started to laugh. So did Kingsley. The bed shook.
‘‘Please,’’ he said. ‘‘It hurts to laugh.’’
‘‘Joey didn’t take our cell phones because we get no service out here and he thought they were useless to us. What he didn’t think of was the GPS. Mine has a chip in it.’’
‘‘That’s right. Mine does too.’’ He reached in his pocket and dug it out. ‘‘Maybe if we put it somewhere. Or maybe I should just put it back in my pocket. If both our phones turn up missing, they might get suspicious. You can say yours was in your purse.’’
Diane tried to relax, and it must have worked because she was awakened by the sound of the chair scraping across the floor.
Chapter 50
‘‘Were you trying to keep us out? That was pathetic.’’ It was Joey. He had Rose with him.
Diane sat up. Kingsley stayed lying down. ‘‘I would like you and Agent Kingsley to join us in
the dining room.’’
It wasn’t Rose. That was Clymene.
Kingsley noticed the difference too. He sat up beside Diane.
‘‘Clymene,’’ said Kingsley.
‘‘My name, as you apparently know, is Iris. That is what I prefer to be called.’’
‘‘Hey, you untied him....’’ began Joey.
‘‘Hush, it doesn’t matter,’’ said Iris.
‘‘As you may notice, Joey has a gun, and he’s rather reckless with it, so don’t try anything,’’ she said.
Iris stood aside and let them pass. Diane toyed with the idea of jumping one of them, but the last time she’d tried something like that, she had gotten Kingsley shot. She was hoping that going to the main house would afford other opportunities that were less risky.
The inside of the house was much like the outside. It was not decrepit, or shabby chic, or even gently worn. It was a showplace. There was no one particular style, just high-end furniture that looked comfortable and was beautiful to look at. There were vases of flowers everywhere, as well as pictures of flowers. All irises, lilies, and roses. In her mind’s eye when Carley’s grandmother was telling them about the family, Diane had pictured the house having dark rooms. The house wasn’t dark; it was well lit and bright. She wondered whether Iris brought that
