"Where is he?"
She pointed vaguely with her left hand, dropping her sook. "At home," she groaned between sobs. I'll help you. Where d'you live?" "The Pines." Then she cried in a weaker voice, "Ricky!
"Take it easy! I'll get you there." Scooping her up in his arms, he started backtracking toward the boulder that narked the right path, keeping his pace fast but smooth. She was surprisingly lightweight; the voluminous garments covered an emaciated frame. She clutched her right wrist, which was swelling rapidly. "Let your arm hang down," he ordered.
"The pain!" she moaned. "My whole arm!"
He broke into a gliding trot. "You'll be okay . . . I'll get you home." They had reached the boulder and turned down the private path. "Won't be long now," he managed to say between heavy breathing. "We'll get a doctor."
"Ricky's a doctor ... I feel sick!" Then she fell ominously silent, her thin face pale. The path was ending. He could see green grass ahead. Two men were standing on the grass.
"Ricky!" Qwilleran shouted with almost his last breath.
Startled, they looked up. One ran forward. "Elizabeth! What happened?"
"Snake bite," Qwilleran gasped.
"I'll take her!" The man named Ricky gathered her up and ran to a golf cart nearby. As the cart headed toward a clump of buildings in the distance, he was talking on a portable phone.
The other man calmly finished a maneuver with a croquet mallet. "Bonkers!" he announced with satisfaction. Turning to Qwilleran, he said, "I suppose I should thank you for rescuing my baby sister. She's been warned to stay out of the woods . . . I'm Jack Appelhardt. And you're ... ?"
"Jim Qwilleran. Staying at the Domino Inn. I happened to be—"
"What?" the man interrupted with an unpleasant smile. "Does anyone actually stay at that place?" His remark was meant to be jocular.
Qwilleran was not amused. Gruffly he replied, "Hope she'll be all right." He turned away and walked up the access path as briskly as his lungs would permit. He could hear a motorized vehicle beeping in the languid atmosphere. It grew louder, then stopped. He could visualize the rescue squad running with a stretcher, loading the victim into the ambulance, radioing for the helicopter. "Ricky" would accompany the patient; it helped to have a doctor in the house. This was one island incident that Qwilleran could not attribute to foul play.
Reaching the main trail, he sat on the boulder to catch his breath before starting home. Then a prick on the back of his neck made him realize he had lost his mosquito spray. He returned to the scene of the rescue and retrieved not only the spray can but a silver pen and a leatherbound book stamped in gold: "E. C. Appelhardt." It contained lists of botanical names, along with dates and places. The latest entry was: Dionaea muscipula (Venus's flytrap).
He returned home with the lost articles and a potpourri of thoughts: Strange woman ... so thin ... how old?... Could be young ... face full of pain ... why so thin?... who was the doctor?... strange brother ... very strange woman ... unusual clothing ... hair like a mermaid ...
As he reached the end of the trail and turned into Pip Court, he remembered the last-minute catfit that had raised havoc with a silk shirt and a good pair of pants. Otherwise, he Would have been having refreshments in a gazebo with two widows instead of risking a heart attack to rescue a not-so-fair damsel in distress ... And then he thought, Was the cat's tantrum just a coincidence? Or what?
He could never be sure whether Koko's catfits were the result of a stitch in the side, a twitch in a nerve end, or an itch in the tail. Sometimes the cat had an ulterior motive. Sometimes he was trying to communicate.
CHAPTER 9
When Qwilleran arrived at Four Pips following the episode on the nature trail, the Siamese were playing a cozy domestic scene in the lounge chair, which they had commandeered as their own. Koko was biting Yum Yum's neck, and she was slobbering in his ear.
"Disgusting!" Qwilleran said to them.
He stripped off his clothes and took a shower. Despite the arduous detour through the woods, he still had to check the Island Experience and make a reservation for the Rikers. He took a rest and revived himself with some packaged snacks before dressing in his second-best shirt and pants. His crumpled duds he stuffed into a plastic bag for another trip to the Vacation Helpers.
On the way he could not resist stopping at the inn to report his adventure to the Hardings. They were sitting in their favorite swing, close to the front door, where they could see everyone coming and going.
"I've just met some members of the royal family, he told them as he walked up the steps.
"The Appelhardts?" the vicar said in surprise. "Dare one inquire how that came about?"
