The Island of Dangerous Dreams Page 2

  As we hurried out I looked back at the guard, who was bent over, scowling at the contents of the glass case filled with Mayan gold.

  Aunt Madelyn drove too fast and kept drumming her fingertips on the steering wheel. I think she forgot I was seated next to her, because a couple of times she mumbled something to herself.

  It made me nervous. Just a few more miles per hour and we probably would get a good aerial view of the highway. I knew she hadn’t filed a flight plan. I decided to break into her private world of race-car driving by saying something subtle, so I blurted out, “That must have been some telephone message!”

  Aunt Madelyn’s lips parted in surprise and she gave me a quick glance, swerving into the next lane and near-missing a camper truck. In return the driver tried to damage our eardrums with a long blast on his horn.

  The combination must have worked. Aunt Madelyn’s right foot eased up on the accelerator and she leaned back against the seat, taking a long breath. “The phone message,” she repeated. “Oh, yes. The call was from a friend of mine.”

  “Urgent?”

  “Moderately so.”

  I wasn’t going to figure that one out. “A male friend,” I decided aloud.

  “A business friend, Judge Justin Arlington-Hughes,” Madelyn said, with the same hungry eagerness that she had used in the restaurant last night when she’d ordered a lobster soufflé. “I think he called because …”

  She stopped, so I asked, “Because why?”

  Madelyn shrugged. “I’m not going to second-guess.”

  “Good idea,” I said in an attempt to keep the conversation rolling, but she slipped me one of those narrow-eyed, probing glances, as though she thought I was trying to be funny, and stopped talking to me. I used the time to think about Rick. I missed him terribly. Mom was wrong in telling me I had to let go. She didn’t understand how much I cared about Rick.

  It didn’t take long to get back to Palm Beach and to the Sartington Museum, which was an elegant one-storied, gleaming-white building set like a centerpiece in its own little park of tropical yellow calla lilies, scarlet salvia, and gaudy purslane. We entered the carved doors of the museum under an arch of bougainvillaea that dripped clusters of dark red blossoms. The blond woman at the desk in the entry hall looked up and smiled, as did the guard, who actually touched the brim of his cap to Aunt Madelyn.

  The entry hall to the museum was an intimidating expanse of cool white marble. In the center of the hall stood a pedestal, upon which was a curled stone something that stared at me with one large blank eye. I got out of its line of vision by trotting after Madelyn into her nearby office.

  It didn’t help. Dominating her office was a painting of two flat, purple people with double profiles, their tongues hanging out, and large round holes through their chests. They stared at me too. Pointedly ignoring them and hoping they’d get the hint, I dropped into a chair and thumbed through a magazine—art magazine, of course—while Madelyn called her friend, the judge. Finally she hung up the receiver and hurried around the desk. I jumped to my feet.

  Madelyn clutched my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length and grinning so broadly that her face scrunched into a grimace. I could feel energy vibrating through her fingertips like a burst of electricity.

  “I can’t believe it!” she said. “I can’t!”

  “Believe what?” I tried to wiggle away from her hold.

  Her smile crinkled again, making little cracks in her makeup. “I’ll get to that later,” she said. “First, I can tell you that Judge Arlington-Hughes has extended an invitation to spend the weekend at his home in the Bahamas.”

  This caught my attention fast. I’d seen pictures of those white sand beaches! “It’s nice of him to help you entertain me.”

  “He doesn’t exactly know about you yet,” she said, “but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be included.”

  She seemed very sure, so I didn’t worry about it. “Is his house near Nassau?”

  Madelyn shook her head. “No. It’s not really far from the coast of Florida. The judge owns a small island in the Little Bahama Banks.”

  “A whole island? Wow!”

  Madelyn stepped back and smiled a catlike, secret smile. “Now, for the big news. I want you to keep this information to yourself, Andrea. This invitation was not given for purely social reasons. Justin has come into possession of a glorious Peruvian artifact and will show it to me there. I know he’ll give the Sartington first chance to purchase it.”

  “Where did the artifact come from?” I asked her.

  She blinked and, as though she were speaking to someone who wasn’t all there, said slowly, “From Peru, Andrea. I told you that.”

  “I mean, has the artifact been in this country for a long time, or was it just smuggled in from Peru?”

  She just stared at me, so I went on. “I wish you could meet Dr. Kirschman,” I added. “He’s the most terrific science teacher. You’d like him. Everybody likes him. Anyhow, last summer Dr. Kirschman told us that most countries in South and Central America have laws to prevent people from taking artifacts outside their countries, and yet people steal them. Can you believe it? Stealing important parts of a country’s past?”

  Aunt Madelyn gave me one of those impatient looks that I’d begun getting used to. “My dear girl,” she said, “you obviously know nothing about art collecting.”

  “I know that a lot of the collections owned by wealthy collectors in this country are made up of stolen artifacts,” I told her. “And a lot of museums once got their collections in the same way. It isn’t right, Aunt Madelyn. It isn’t fair.”

  She made an impatient shooing motion with her right hand. “But it’s business,” she said.

  I was shocked. “Is the artifact stolen?” I asked. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Darling Andrea, if you had the vaguest idea of the type of work I do, you would know that there are times it is best not to ask questions.”

  “Your judge friend stole the artifact.”

  “Of course he didn’t! He—he obtained it from someone.”

  “Who stole it.”

  “Andrea! I should just leave you here!”

  I thought about those clean beaches with the clear, turquoise water I’d seen in photographs and said quickly, “No. I’d rather go with you.”

  “Then promise you’ll keep your opinions to yourself!” Aunt Madelyn said. “This will be a business deal with no room for childish, ignorant, pseudo-moralizing.”

  One of the purple profiles looked as though it was about to gag. I didn’t want to stay and see if it would. “I’ll keep quiet,” I answered.

  “Very well then,” she said, still irritated enough to add a miffed sniff. “Go to the ladies’ room and comb your hair. We’re going to meet Justin for lunch.”

  “Just one more thing,” I said. “There’s something I don’t understand. Why couldn’t the judge show you the artifact here? Why do you have to go to his island? It all sounds weird to me. Urgent telephone calls, secret information, maybe even a boat slipping through the dark water at night—”

  “Andrea!” Madelyn snapped. “I told you to comb your hair! No more nonsense!”

  But as I left the room I could see the indecision in her eyes. I could guess that I wasn’t the only one who had some questions about the judge’s actions.

  CHAPTER

  2

  Judge Justin Arlington-Hughes and my aunt matched as well as salt and pepper shakers. They both stood tall, their backbones held up more by pomposity than by devotion to good posture. His mane of white hair contrasted nicely with her sleek, dark hair. His navy-blue suit was impeccable. Her navy-blue suit seemed exactly right for the curator of the Sartington.

  The judge looked me over thoroughly, then glowered. I knew what he was thinking. He hadn’t planned on including me, and he was trying to figure out how to rework the invitation so that I’d be left out.

  Aunt Madelyn, who was studying the menu, didn’t seem
to notice. I was thankful when the waitress arrived to take our orders and interrupted his scowl.

  After we got past the opening conversational trivialities and my aunt’s mild embarassment because she and the judge ordered black coffee and salads, while I scarfed down a burger with everything, double fries, and a large strawberry shake, I heard enough to make me disgusted with both of them.

  Someone, with whom Judge Arlington-Hughes had “connections,” had smuggled the artifact into the United States and into the judge’s hands by way of his sizable bank account.

  The judge leaned across the table and murmured, “Wait until you see it, Madelyn! It’s a rare find. Gold with an unbelievably large blue topaz. I’ve never come across anything like it.”

  I didn’t miss Aunt Madelyn’s quick glance in my direction before she spoke to the judge. I’d been right. She’d shared some of my suspicions. “Don’t make me wait to see it! Why can’t I see it now?” she coaxed. Her breathing became even more erratic, and I tried to remember what to do for people who are hyperventilating.

  The judge leaned back against the booth and smiled. His words dripped with a smug superiority. “As I told you, you’ll see it tomorrow, when we reach my island.”

  Aunt Madelyn was so impatient, she almost snapped at the judge. “You’re up to something, Justin. I know you are.”

  He grinned and widened his eyes, trying to look innocent. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  She leaned forward. “You are offering this to me exclusively, aren’t you?”

  “Would you like another cup of coffee?” he asked.

  She actually slapped the table so hard that the empty cups jiggled, and I dropped a greasy french fry into my lap. “Ah-ha! You’re not answering my question.” Madelyn paused and tried a different approach, her voice slipping out like thick cream. “Justin, dear, our friendship should count for something, shouldn’t it?”

  “Friendship should never be mixed with business,” he answered.

  For a moment they just stared at each other, their eyes like dark blue laser beams. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see smoke rising from little holes in their foreheads. Then the judge said, “Tomorrow, Madelyn, I’ll expect you to meet me promptly at ten A.M. at the boat slip in Fort Lauderdale. You know where to find the Croesus.”

  Ten A.M. So much for dark water at night.

  “Andrea and I will be there.”

  “Perhaps there’s something else that Andrea might want to do,” he offered.

  “She’s in my care, Justin,” Madelyn said. “Of course she’ll come. There’s plenty of room on your boat for just the three of us, so there’s no problem in including Andrea.”

  He began to speak, then changed his mind. Madelyn’s eyes became little slits, and she said, “It won’t be just the three of us, will it, Justin? You’re bringing someone else! Who?”

  He dabbed at his chin with his napkin and said, “Madelyn, you have been invited. Either accept or refuse, as you see fit.”

  “I wish I had even an inkling of what you are planning,” Madelyn said.

  “Trust me.”

  She smiled, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Justin, dear, I’d never be that foolish.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. He picked up the check and slid from the booth. Before he walked to the cashier’s desk he gave me a smile that could have just been taken from the cafe freezer and said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Andrea.”

  I stammered something polite in return, but I didn’t mean what I said any more than he did.

  Madelyn collected her handbag and prepared to follow, but I reached across the table and grabbed her arm. “Let’s not go,” I whispered.

  “Why in the world not?”

  “I don’t like the way he’s behaving. I don’t even like him.”

  “This is a business proposition, Andrea. Likes and dislikes don’t matter.”

  “But I feel strange about going with him. Creepy. Weird. I know it’s just a hunch, but …”

  She pulled away, slipped gracefully from the booth, and stood over me. “You don’t conduct business by following hunches, Andrea.”

  I got up, too, and followed her out to her car. Once inside, she seemed to relax a little, although the skin over her knuckles was stretched tight as she gripped the wheel. I was surprised at what an intense person she was.

  “Maybe I could go home,” I said, hoping desperately that she’d agree.

  She turned to stare at me for just an instant, her eyes wide. “I thought you were enjoying your visit with me.”

  “Oh, I am,” I said, nearly choking on the words.

  “I’m glad,” she said, “because it’s a pleasure for me to have you here.”

  With a start I realized that she meant it.

  “You’re my only niece, and I’ve always felt close to you.” I guess the words sounded odd to her, too, because she gave a funny little laugh and added, “I don’t get close to many people, Andrea. Maybe I don’t know how to show what I feel. But believe me, I don’t want you to go home. I want you to come with me. You’ll love the island and the swimming. Justin has a beautiful place.”

  “I’ll be in the way.” I almost groaned aloud. No matter where I went I seemed to be in the way.

  “No, you won’t,” Madelyn said. “Just relax and enjoy yourself and leave the business to us.” Maybe she felt me studying her, because she smiled and said, “The work that I do is the most important part of my life. Correction. It is my life. Do you understand that, Andrea?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. Again I felt strange with Madelyn, a little frightened of her. I didn’t want to go to the Bahama island with Madelyn and the judge. I wanted to go home. As soon as I had a chance, I was going to call my mother.

  That evening, while Madelyn was doing her gourmet thing in the kitchen of her high-rise apartment, boiling bags of something frozen for our dinner, I dialed our home phone and reversed the charges.

  “Sorry,” the operator said after the eighth ring. “No answer. Shall I try later?”

  “No, thanks,” I told her. I didn’t want the call to go through at a time when Madelyn could hear what was being said. I’d just wait until I had another good chance.

  The good chance didn’t come until after we had packed for the weekend, Madelyn had set the alarm for six, and we had gone to bed.

  I tiptoed down the hall and back into the kitchen, where I was sure she wouldn’t hear me making the call. Eagerly I dialed again. With the time-zone change, Mom and Dad wouldn’t be asleep yet. Dad would be listening to the evening news, as he did every night before going to bed. The phone rang and rang until finally the operator went through the “sorry” routine.

  “No,” I said as I fought back tears. “Don’t try again.” I hung up the receiver and leaned against the wall, missing my parents with an ache so strong that my chest hurt. Rick hadn’t wanted me. The judge didn’t want me around. And now my parents had shut me out. I knew I was being unreasonable, but I felt like a little kid who was lost. I didn’t know which way to go. What made everything worse was facing the weekend I was going to have to spend with Aunt Madelyn and the judge.

  CHAPTER

  3

  Aunt Madelyn had been to the boat slip before, so she found the judge’s boat easily. I followed her up the gangplank and back to the canopied stern with its blue cushioned seats in a U shape around the railing. “It’s a lovely boat,” Madelyn said. Some boat! Calling that elegant, gleaming affair a boat was a gigantic understatement. Its teakwood deck and glossy brass trim sparkled under a clear sky. The air was filled with all the wonderful ocean smells of salt and seaweed, and gulls dipped, cried, and plummeted into the sea, coming up with small fish in their beaks.

  I touched the camera that hung around my neck. I’d want to record this to show Mom, Dad, and Rick. They’d never be able to imagine the overall gorgeousness of this fantastic boat unless they could see pictures of it.

  I began to perk up un
til I saw that Madelyn was doing a pretty fair imitation of the wicked queen finding out from the magic mirror that Snow White was still alive. I whirled to see what she was glowering at and saw a small, trim woman dressed in white slacks and a red-striped shirt who was struggling with an overstuffed overnight bag. Short brown curls poked out from under a yachting cap, which I thought was a pretty hokey touch until I reminded myself that I knew nothing about boats like this and maybe that cap went with the territory.

  The woman, who couldn’t have been much older than forty, tripped up the gangplank and managed to land on deck, dropping her bag at her feet. She stared at me in bewilderment. “What is this?” she asked. “Have we had a change of plans?”

  Aunt Madelyn had regained all her poise and behaved as though she were hostess and had planned the whole trip. “How nice you could come, Benita. May I present my niece, Andrea Ryan? Benita Robley.”

  “How do you do,” Benita said. She turned to Madelyn. “I was under the impression that this weekend was to be a business meeting, but here you are with your niece. Exactly what is this all about?”

  Madelyn tried to look wise. “Justin will let you in on his plans when he’s ready. You know Justin.”

  Benita plopped down on the nearest cushioned bench. She seemed to be upset that I was there. Was I going to affect everyone like that? “Bother, Madelyn, I shouldn’t have asked you,” Benita said. “You don’t know any more about this than I do. Where is Justin, anyway?”

  “Here I am.” The judge, who was dressed like a star from an old movie, in a blue yachting blazer, white slacks, and an ascot, climbed the stairs from the cabin and gave Benita and Madelyn each a kiss on the cheek. He nodded a grudging greeting in my direction.

  I didn’t want to be on this boat any more than he wanted me here. In my plain yellow T-shirt, blue shorts, and half a bottle of number fifteen sun block, I didn’t even belong at this costume party. I wished I could have told him that.

  There were footsteps on the galley stairs, and a tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered guy, who would have looked more at home on a football field than on a boat, appeared behind the judge. The two women knew him, and he was introduced to me as Kurt Cameron, one of the judge’s secretaries. That seemed a funny job for a guy that big. I had to wipe away a smile as I pictured him crammed into one of those little secretarial chairs, typing letters for the judge.