B000FC1MHI EBOK Read Online Free

her voice must have registered, because Zoe gave in.
    “Okay, then. Give me my clogs. While Jake checks you out, I’ll drive back to the house for dry clothes.”
    Only then did it strike Julia that she had none of her own. No clothes. No shoes, no socks. No makeup. No books, no camera equipment. All of the things that she had so carefully gathered—been putting aside for months, if the truth were told—for her two weeks on the island were gone. Same with her pocketbook, which meant she had no driver’s license, no credit card, no money. She had no cell phone, no picture of Molly that she kept in her wallet, no dog-eared photos that dated back to her own teenaged years and had been the object of so many dreams. Nor, it dawned on her, did she have any of those other personal papers that she had so painstakingly gathered.
    She was grappling with the realization of all that when Zoe slipped out the door. By the time she returned, twenty minutes had passed, and Julia had been judged in fine health aside from the jagged tear on her arm, which the doctor stitched.
    “A week for the stitches,” she heard him tell Zoe, while she pulled on the dry clothing Zoe had brought. “The shaking will stop. I offered her a sedative, but she refused it. She’s apt to feel bruised all over by morning. Call me if there’s pain.”
    Julia zipped the jeans, pulled a T-shirt and sweater on carefully over her bandaged arm, then wool socks and sneakers, and a fleece jacket, appreciating the warmth with each layer. She used Zoe’s blow-dryer for a minute, brushed out her hair, and pulled on a baseball cap that said Foss Fish and Lobster . Then she joined the others in the front room.
    “I’m ready,” she said quietly, and was grateful when—rather than tell her how pale she was, that she needed food, a hot bath, and sleep more than she needed to return to the dock—Zoe simply nodded.
    The three retraced their steps. The mist over the harbor had thinned some, and the visibility was improved, but what had been gained was being quickly consumed by dusk. Enough light remained to show Julia a maze of side docks meandering off the main. Empty slips, along with a dearth of lobster boats at harbor moorings, suggested that the entire local fleet had joined the search. As Julia approached, another pulled away from its dinghy and motored toward open water with its running lights on, spotlights blazing from the wheelhouse roof.
    The dock itself was lit by tall torches and crowded with people. The town had come out en masse, a throng of worried faces, watchful eyes, and joined hands.
    Holding Julia by the arm, Zoe waded right in. “What’s the word?”
    “Not good,” said a woman with a cell phone in her hand. “Rescue boats have come from the mainland. Emergency vehicles are waiting on that end.” She stopped short, but the look in her eyes went farther.
    “What are they expecting?” Julia asked, needing confirmation.
    “Burns,” the woman said, but again stopped short.
    Julia closed her eyes for only a second, but it was enough to be right back out there with the others in the ferry, enough to see that purple boat burst out of the fog, enough to hear the screams and feel the impact, enough to be thrown by the explosion. Body parts. That was what the woman hadn’t said, and suddenly Julia glimpsed the scope of the horror.
    Trembling head to toe, she wrapped her arms around herself and turned to the water, though there was little to see and even less to hear: the roar of flames, the rumble of rescue vessels, the sirens were gone. Except for the occasional low talk over a cell phone or radio transmitter, she heard precious little other than the waves that slapped pilings under the pier, rocked boats at their moorings, and broke resoundingly against granite boulders that lined the outer shore.
    Behind Julia, the conversation went on in hushed tones, muted by a fear that was heavy and stark. Glancing over the crowd, she could have picked those