Free Raquel Byrnes by Whispers on Shadow Bay Page B

There was no one else in the shop to witness her outburst.
    “I’m sorry,” I said with surprise. “I don’t understand—”
    “Amanna didn’t die of an accident, Rosetta,” she hissed, her eyes slits of pain. “She was killed.”
    “OK, I’m sorry. I just heard it was an accident. All I know is that Simon’s wife—”
    “Don’t speak his name in this place,” Nalla said and banged her fist on the counter upsetting the bottles and jars. A few rolled off and burst on the floor, but Nalla didn’t notice. She heaved and glared at me. “Not here.”
    Fear surged through me, and I stepped backwards. How could someone go from friendly to furious so quickly? Why was everything and everyone on this island so strange?
    “I’m sorry,” I said, backing up further.
    “Take my words with you,” Nalla yelled after me. “Nothing but tragedy and death ever comes from that cursed place!”
    I turned and pushed through the door, my heart ramming into my throat. I hurried up the road, tripping on the cobblestones, nearly falling down.
    O’Shay wasn’t by the golf cart.
    Curious faces turned and I struggled to catch my breath. I kept walking past the golf cart to the road. Shaken, I struggled to quell the tears. I didn’t want to cry again. I was tired of crying.
    “Just ignore it,” I said to myself. “Ignore all of them.”
    Taking the way we’d come on the golf cart, I stuck to the shoulder. A mile back to Shadow Bay Hall the sun that struggled to poke through the morning haze had given way to clouds of angry slate. Frigid drops hit my face and I stopped short, worried about getting caught in the rain. I eyed a faint path that veered from the edge of the road into the woods.
    Wind laced with shards of rain tossed hair across my face, and I pulled the shawl tighter around my shoulders, debating. The canopy of trees would afford protection from the light drizzle, yet the thought of traipsing along the dark floor of the forest didn’t seem inviting.
    “Wander in the dark woods or get wet.” I blew out a breath, scowled at the sky, and stepped onto the path. “This is just a walk through the woods, Rose.”
    I picked my way along the pine needles and fallen twigs littering the path, careful to protect my practically bare feet. Flip-flops weren’t hiking equipment, and here I was so proud for taking care of the whole, “dress warmer” situation. I let out a wry chuckle. A week ago, I was on the warm beach just outside my house.
    “Leaping without looking,” I muttered. “How many times have I been accused of that?”
    Too many to count. And yet, given what had happened, I’d had no other option than to flee.
    Voices, low and male, wafted across my path, and I squinted through the trees. A hundred yards away, I saw Simon speaking with another man. Worry replaced the momentary ripple of pleasure at seeing him when I saw his angry gestures and heard the timbre of his voice. Something was wrong.
    The other man, familiar somehow, put his hands out, palms down, in a calming gesture which only seemed to set Simon off again.
    I stood frozen on the path not sure whether I should keep going as if I didn’t see them or call out.
    Taking a step back, I disturbed a nest of ring-necked quail. They flew out of the brush tittering and fluttering angrily. I flailed at them, half falling into the bushes. My hair and shawl caught in the low branches.
    Simon’s gaze snapped to me, startled at first, and then irritation spread across his face.
    I stopped struggling, my hair still caught over my head in the branch, shawl pulled akimbo. I shrugged, helplessly embarrassed. I was ensnared and couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down my enflamed cheeks. I stood under the tree, surrounded by the flying feathers and angry squawks. The confusion and stress of Nalla’s weird outburst, the disturbing tone of the warning from Yasmine and the others, all rode up on me, and I let the ragged sobs of frustration and worry bubble