A. Colucci - Seeders

“How do you know?” asked Monica.

“I found a note from George.” She waved it in her hand. “It’s buried right by the stone with the cross.”

Monica sprang from the bed. “So you’ll give us the hundred grand if we come with you?”

“Of course not. I’m the one who figured it out.”

“Then forget it.”

“All right. I’ll give you each fifty pounds, but you have to do all the digging.”

“I wouldn’t go out there for a million dollars,” Luke scoffed.

“Well, fine, I’ll dig it up myself and you won’t get a dime.”

They watched her walk out of the room, slamming the door with vigor.

“Do you believe that!” Monica stared at Luke, reddened with rage. She thought for a moment. “You know where that grave is, right?”

He tilted his head and tried to recall the direction he ran home that day. “I think so. You take a left at the fork. But forget it. I’m not helping her.”

“You don’t have to. We can get to the grave first and dig it up ourselves.”

“You’re nuts. I’m not going in those woods again.”

“Luke, you said so yourself, the hallucinations aren’t real. If we stick together, nothing can happen.”

“You don’t know that. Why would you want to take the diamond anyway? It’s not even yours.”

“Because she’s a bitch who’s gonna die soon. What good is half a million dollars to her?”

He stared at her wide-eyed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Oh, chill . I’m not gonna keep the whole thing. I’ll just sell it on eBay, take my share, and send the rest back to the old sleazebag.”

“You don’t have a share.”

“I spent a million hours looking for that diamond, wasting my time, while she promised us a hundred grand.”

“Only if we found it. Which we didn’t.”

She went to the window, looking pained. “I need that money. You said you were going to make sure I get to Paris.”

“Not by robbing an old lady.”

She stared at the sea. The whitecaps were larger, coming in fast. Above the horizon, dark clouds were rolling in. Monica licked her lips, not thinking about the weather. She wanted that diamond more than anything.

ISABELLE HAD SPENT over an hour gathering flammable items from the attic, hauling them down to the library and dragging them to the back of the house. She went to the bluff to check for boats and spotted a band of treacherous clouds in the distance. A storm was coming. There would be no rescue that day.

She walked back to the house.

It seemed the only thing left to do was to study the plants herself, try to figure out what was happening to Jules. The door to the lab was open and she stopped before going inside. She peeked in the doorway.

The room was trashed; cabinets and tables were thrown over, books destroyed, files strewn about as if a burglar had struck. Isabelle barely took a step inside and froze.

SEEDERS was scrawled across the wall in red paint. The large capital letters were still wet and dripping, drying to a rusty brown. There was a tangy smell of copper in the room.

Blood .

She closed her eyes, fighting nausea. A low rumble of thunder shook the window and Isabelle could see clouds coming faster, gloomy and foreboding.

A large hand gripped her shoulder.

Isabelle spun around to see Jules staring down at her with narrowed eyes. She was struck speechless.

“What are you doing?” he asked flatly.

“Cleaning up,” she whispered. Thunder echoed outside and Isabelle stooped down and retrieved a pile of loose papers and then rose to her feet. “The place is a mess.”

She tried not to look at the paint— blood?— on the wall.

It seemed like his temper might flare again, but instead Jules smiled timidly and spoke in a gentle tone. “I want to apologize, Isabelle. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

She saw a glimpse of the old Jules and was too stunned to answer.

“You were right. I should stay out of the woods, come back to the house.”

He was wearing dark clothes with dark-colored stains, but there was no mistaking the red stains on his wrists, under his nails, and in between his fingers. Isabelle spoke without thinking. “You have blood on your hands.”

At first he looked surprised. He folded his arms defensively. “I cut myself.”

“With what?”

“I was spearfishing, actually. Caught a rather large one.”

She felt her lip tremble. “How’s Sean?”

“He is something, that boy. You should be proud of him.”

“I was hoping he’d come back to the house. You know how mothers can be, always worrying.”

He was looking out the window and didn’t respond.

“Jules?”

His expression flipped like a switch, from placid to crazed. With a quick hand he grabbed the back of her neck and Isabelle gasped. He leaned down close to her ear, his voice thick. “I want you to stop lighting fires. If you do it again, I’ll be very angry.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good girl.” He inhaled the scent of her. “Now you smell like smoke.” He stroked her hair, smoothed back the loose strands. She flinched and he let her go, smiling and good-natured again. “There’s a storm coming. I’m going to bring some of my things back here. You’re not to touch them, understand?”

She nodded.

He started for the door.

“Jules?” Isabelle nodded to the writing on the wall. “What is that?”

He stared at the red lines dripping from the word and smiled. “I told you. The day of reckoning has come.”

She watched him walk outside, just as Ginny’s voice rang out down the hall. She stepped into the lab, excited and out of breath.

“Isabelle,” she said.

Jules turned to wave from the patio, and headed toward the woods.

“I have the most wonderful news. George has come to me from the grave with a message, bless his heart. Just when I’d started to think we’d never find that bloody Crimson Star.”

“Ginny, would you stop talking about the damn diamond!”

“ Well, ” she huffed. “Someone’s got her knickers in a knot.”

“You have no idea what’s going on,” she cried, holding out her hands to the ghoulish word on the wall.

“Oh, who cares?” Ginny said, barely taking a look. “I know where the diamond is hidden.”

Isabelle blinked.

“This note is from George.” She showed the card to Isabelle. “It was in my room all the time.”

Isabelle read quietly to herself. “It’s another riddle.”

“Not at all. He’s most definitely referring to a spot on the island where he wanted us to be buried together. Now if I can just find it.”

Isabelle wrinkled her brow. “But the first riddle, the one Mr. Bonacelli gave you.”

Ginny reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out the well-worn paper that was beginning to rip. She shoved it at Isabelle. “Perfectly useless. You keep it.”

Isabelle looked at it, puzzled. “If a brilliant star isn’t the diamond, then what did he mean?”

“I couldn’t care less.” Ginny sniffed. “Now I’ll need you to take me to that blasted pond. Your son is too much of a crybaby to take me there.”

“It will have to wait until the boat arrives Wednesday.”

“It most certainly will not.”

The room was growing dark from the billowing clouds outside. “There’s a storm coming. Besides, Dr. Beecher is out there.”

“I’m sure he’s harmless. He might be rude, but he is a Brit, after all.”

“Wednesday,” she repeated. “And not before.”

“There won’t be time to look, with everyone so anxious to leave,” she said, flustered. “I’ll have to find it myself.”