“No, maybe they’re wrong,” Margie countered. “You’ve come much too far to give in to bullying. You’ll figure it out.”

Claire smiled. “Thanks, Margie. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Please do. I’ll be up to visit soon.”

Margie watched as her friend drove down the driveway and disappeared into the trees.

It was going to be a real struggle to not tell Hank. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to keep quiet for long. The young man might make himself known, then Claire could explain the misunderstanding, and the FBI could talk to him about what they wanted. Easy as pie.

Hopefully.

Chapter Seven

There wasn’t an easy way to get around the island, and Marty was far too paranoid to take a taxi. Plus, the public bus only ran during the summer. Not that he’d risk that, either.

It hadn’t been much of a problem when he first got to Orcas Island. He’d caught a ride with a friendly driver from the ferry terminal to Moran State Park. From there, he was able to camp in the dense forest unnoticed. Though he was tempted to spend a few nights at a campsite, he resisted. If the FBI knew he was in the area, it was too risky.

It was his own fault if they found him, too. He got sloppy and used his burner phone to call his best friend – a number that the FBI was watching. He’d needed her help, though – in his rush, he had run out of his house without his wallet. Lesson learned.

Marty knew that he should leave the island. He knew he was playing with fire, but he just couldn’t leave. Not yet. His mom had made no attempt to contact him, but he held a small hope that the mother who abandoned him all those years ago had simply missed his letter.

Or maybe she was scared? It was possible that the FBI had already gotten to her. They could be setting a trap for him…

He didn’t care. After enduring four straight days and nights of heavy rain, Marty decided that he’d had enough. He would go to Claire’s place and see what she had to say for herself.

It wasn’t like he had a ton of options at this point. His own parents, his adoptive parents, were back in Spain. It’s where his mother – er, his adoptive mother – had grown up, and he didn’t want to tell them what was going on, worrying them from an ocean away.

Plus, he was still angry at them for hiding his adoption from him for all these years. If it hadn’t been for his drunken aunt at Thanksgiving, Marty never would’ve found out the truth.