Chapter 49

“Man, you look like a POW,” Eddie said as he ushered Joshua inside. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been popping Tylenol like gum drops. It’s been helping a little. I’m sure I’ll feel worse tomorrow.”

“You should go see your doctor, seriously. Get checked out.”

“Maybe later.” Joshua had rolled up the beach photo like a poster. He shoved it toward Eddie. “Here it is. Let’s run it through your scanner.”

Eddie led the way to the basement. He unfurled the picture on the glass surface of one of numerous scanners that he owned. “You’re sure about this, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Joshua lowered himself into a chair. “I’ve never been so sure of anything. She’s staying on a beach somewhere in Georgia.”

“How could she afford a beach house, man?”

“Don’t know. I’ll ask her when I find her.”

Eddie tapped on the keyboard, pulling up the imaging software. After a few seconds, the image of the photograph filled the screen. Eddie centered the cursor on the boat, and entered a command to magnify the image.

Joshua leaned forward, heart throbbing. The text on the vessel was blurry at first, but it gradually became clearer as Eddie continued to increase the magnification. Soon, the digitized boat was the only object on the screen, a reddish blur.

“There it is,” Eddie said.

Concentrating, Joshua deciphered the now-huge, blocky words across the boat’s hull.

“Hyde Island Queen,” Joshua said. “I’ve never heard of Hyde Island. You?”

“Nope.” Eddie pulled up Google. “But we’ll be experts in about five minutes.”

Eddie typed in the search string, “Hyde Island,” and “Georgia,” and was rewarded with close to five hundred links.

“You can skim through these.” Eddie bounced out of his chair. “I’ve gotta go start dinner for the fam. It’s chili night.”

“Go ahead, Emeril.”

Joshua rolled closer to the computer, and started reading.

* * *

Hyde Island, Joshua learned, was a barrier island off the coast of Savannah. It was only about seven miles long, and had a population of less than a thousand people. Most of the island was under the control of the Georgia State Parks department, which operated a marine institute there in conjunction with the University of Georgia. However, the southernmost tip, called Hall Hammock, was a historic community of Geechees who had lived on Hyde Island for over two hundred years.

Joshua had once viewed a cable documentary about the Geechee and Gullah people. They were a small subculture of blacks on the sea islands of Georgia and South Carolina, brought there to work the cotton plantations during slavery times, who had managed to preserve significant elements of their African heritage. They had their own customs, rituals, and way of life. In the past few decades, encroaching beachfront development and lack of a stable economy had caused their numbers to dwindle as they left their island homes and integrated into life on the mainland.

How had Rachel come to find out about this place?

Hall Hammock, in particular, interested him. Her mother’s maiden name was Hall. Could there be a connection?

There had to be, as unlikely as it seemed. Nothing seemed coincidental any more.

Hyde Island was reachable exclusively by ferry. Only locals or registered visitors were allowed to operate vehicles on the island. In fact, you needed to register with the state parks department, or be personally invited by a local resident, merely to visit.

Smart, Joshua thought. Go to an island that, for all practical purposes, is kept private. Clever.

Joshua skimmed a few more web sites about the island, but he’d learned the bulk of what he wanted to know. He knew where Rachel was hiding.

The only thing left was to go there.