Dragonfly Read online

  Dragonfly

  By Leigh Talbert Moore

  To my friends in Baldwin County and to the Alabama Gulf Coast,

  which inspired this story.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  The first time I saw the Gulf of Mexico I didn’t believe it was real.

  The colors were so vivid—turquoise and deep marine blue splashing on sparkling-white grains of sand—it was as if the whole place glowed in the sunlight. It was beautiful. Magical.

  I had no idea it would change my life. That my parents’ decision to move our family almost a thousand miles south, to their tiny hometown just off the coast, would drop me into the middle of a decades-old impasse.

  A separation mandated by a long-forgotten crime.

  A secret I would accidentally revive.

  * * *

  Last day of summer break. I was alone at the public beach just south of Fairview, my new hometown, feeling sorry for myself. Senior year was a day away, and Gabi, the best friend I’d made since we moved here, was gone, her Coast Guard dad reassigned to Key West.

  A military brat, Gabi was practiced at the art of breaking into a new town, meeting a whole new group of people. I was preparing for the loneliest year of my life.

  We’d lived in Fairview three years, and I still didn’t get southern “hospitality.” People weren’t weird here, they were quirky or eccentric. On top of that, everybody knew everybody, and if you didn’t ask about everyone’s family members, most importantly their mothers, you were considered rude.

  It was a setup I was destined to fail, but Gabi could always turn it around with a funny quip or a hilarious questioning of how anyone could be so nice. They were clearly either hiding a secret life or they needed to get one. Now I was the one entering senior year in need of a life. Of course, I had other friends, but none like Gabi. We shared everything, and now it was just me and my journal.

  On the beach, I could pretend it wasn’t happening. I could close my eyes behind giant shades, and disappear into the sounds of Nova Bossa, which my earbuds delivered directly to my brain. My crazy-curls were tied in a knot at the base of my neck under a huge, Audrey Hepburn-style straw hat, and I pretended I was somebody important, tanning outside of Cannes or Nice. Maybe a cabana boy would bring me a fruity drink, and I would call someone darling or something unexpected like that.

  I was no longer Anna, the outsider. I was a star.

  The song ended, my damp eyes flickered open, and there they were—right next to me on the sand, facing the opposite direction. Not really setting up camp or even looking like they planned to stay for long. Just glowing in the sun.

  “Dad will never go for this, Lucy,” the guy said.

  He was incredible. Tanned, slim, and somewhere around my age—maybe a little older. His blonde hair blew in his eyes, which I couldn’t see behind his dark Ray-Bans, and he moved in a way that radiated confidence. He was the type of guy I was sure got whatever he wanted. I slid my filmy beach-wrap across my soft stomach, wishing I did more sit-ups and thankful at least my frizz was well-hidden.

  Lucy’s hair was perfect. It was the exact same color as his and hung down her back. It blew in beachy waves around her arms, and she slid one thick lock behind her shoulder before turning to touch my arm. I jumped as if I’d been electrocuted.

  “Excuse me,” she said, smiling like a Junior Miss contestant. “Have you been here all day?”

  “Um… no,” I said, cheeks hot. “I’ve only been here about an hour.”

  “Oh, sorry. I was just looking for someone. I thought you might’ve seen him. I’m Lucy, by the way.”

  “Anna,” I said, shaking the hand she offered. “And I didn’t. Sorry.”

  “No worries, Anna.” She was still smiling as she turned away again.

  I was sure I’d seen her red bikini on television, and she had the supermodel body to wear it. For a moment I wondered if they might be as-yet unknown celebrities, here for a secret, incognito weekend before going public and becoming superstars. Only, why would they pick this spot?

  More likely they were from Crystal Beach or Hammond Island—one of the ritzy gated communities lining the coast to the east. Only, it still didn’t make sense for them to be here. Those places had their own guarded beaches, safe from the commoners like me.

  The guy spoke again in his smooth, deep voice. “Let’s go. He’s not coming.”

  “You’re being annoying, Jack,” she said, leaning back on her elbows and getting comfortable. “It’s only been five minutes. He hasn’t had a chance.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this again.”

  She waved at the turquoise water. “Cool off and give him a few more minutes.”

  It was impossible not to stare as Jack walked down to the shore. His unbuttoned shirt blew in the breeze showing off his lined torso, and his board shorts hung loosely around his waist. The water rushed around his legs and my heart beat a little faster as I imagined the impossible—me standing beside him, him putting his arm around me, maybe pulling me in for a hug. I actually shivered at the thought.

  I didn’t have a ton of experience with guys, but I knew what a hug felt like. And in a place where most people lived in swimsuits half the year, I was familiar with the sensation of skin against skin.

  Suddenly he turned back. I squeezed my eyes shut, embarrassed, even though I knew he couldn’t see me watching him behind my dark sunglasses. When I peeked again, he was back on the towel, feet shoved in the sand, seeming angry.

  “So is B.J. short for ‘bad joke’?”

  Lucy shook her golden hair back. “Something must’ve happened.”

  “Good. This was a setup for trouble. Again.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do,” Jack said. “And it won’t get you what you want.”

  She sat up and smiled, blinking innocently. “I want to find the cute lifeguard I met at Scoops yesterday.”

  “You want things to be different with Dad.” Jack’s voice was low and even.

  “Dad can go straight to hell.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly the message you send.”

  Jack exhaled and smoothed the sand under his hands. I was flat-out eavesdropping, no getting around it, but their conversation fascinated me. Not to mention, he was in perfect view.

  “Besides,” Lucy sighed, her voice a little sad. “I can’t change the reason Dad hates me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you—”

  “Or pretends I don’t exist.” She slid her long hair back and held it in a ponytail for a moment before dropping it. “But you know what? I’m glad I look like Mom. She was a beauty queen. You got a few of her genes yourself.”

  Jack stood and grabbed his towel. “This conversation is stupid. And I’m leaving.”

  “Whatever. It’s hot.” She pulled her long cover-up over her head, and hot or not, she looked fresh, like she hadn’t been in the sun at all.


  My eyes followed them back to the parking lot where Jack threw their stuff into the back of steel-grey Jeep. Two doors slammed and they sped off, heading east, in the direction of Hammond Island. And that, I assumed, was the end of it.

  For a few moments, everything felt quieter. Even the sun seemed a bit dimmer with their departure. I stood and walked to the water’s edge. The smell of salt and fresh fish always hung in the air here, and sometimes dolphins could be spotted swimming around, playing just off the coastline. If I were going to be abandoned, at least it was in a pretty place. The noise of the breaking waves comforted me, and I pulled off my hat so my light-brown hair could blow free. It would be huge and horrible in less than ten seconds, but I didn’t care.

  The further east you traveled, along the Florida coastline, the water grew more and more turquoise, the sand more sugary-white. Maybe for my next escape I’d drive to Nana’s place in Navarre and spend the night. Today I’d just wanted to be alone.

  I had a plan for the year, at least. With my new position reporting for the school newsblog, my college applications were set. SAT scores would be in soon, and hopefully by this time next year I’d be entering Northwestern, the top journalism school in the country.

  That just left 365 days to endure.

  I exhaled, and as I stood staring far out at the horizon, I wished something exciting would happen to me. Just once. Something to take my mind off the monotony or at least make my life a little more interesting.

  No chance of that in this tiny town of less than ten thousand full-time residents.

  A lifeguard had arrived when I walked back to gather my stuff. All the public beaches had them, and they were usually savage-tanned college guys perched in the tall-wooden booths under the beach warning flags. Yellow today. Moderate hazard.

  I watched him scan the sunbathers. He was dark with a perfect body—a requirement for life guarding here, it seemed. At this time of year he had to be a local, but I didn’t know him.

  “Hey,” I called up.

  He looked down at me, eyebrows pulled together. “Whatcha need, kid?”

  Some joke. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen, and I’d be eighteen in a few months.

  “Are you B.J.?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “A girl…” I started, and then wondered what I was even doing. “I just thought I recognized you.”

  He looked at me like I’d had too much sun. Maybe I had. I shrugged and walked away, thinking they should’ve waited. Not that it mattered to me.

  Beach escape had ended. It was time to face my life back on shore.

  Chapter 2

  Fairview High School had about six hundred students total, and as I stood observing my fellow seniors squealing and embracing each other, again I felt the sting of loneliness. Not having Gabi here was like watching one of those rock band reunions without the original lead singer. Just wrong.

  Rachel, a friend of Gabi’s who I’d sat behind last year in English, broke through my quiet despair, calling my name as she hurried to catch up with me. She wore a blue and white cheerleader uniform, and her perfectly straight blonde hair was smoothed back with a yellow grosgrain ribbon for a headband.

  “You missed Open House Friday,” she said, perky as always.

  “Yeah, I thought I had a stomach bug or something.”

  It was a lie. I’d spent Friday drowning my depression in Chex Mix and root beer while I watched The Notebook for the thousandth time. Only it was first time without my best friend. Yep, pretty pathetic.

  “Oh!” She jumped back almost a foot. “Were you puking or what?”

  “I just had cramps. Maybe it was PMS?”

  “Thank goodness!” She sighed dramatically. Then she bumped my arm. “Heard you made the school newsblog. Awesome.”

  “Yeah,” I said, thinking how Rachel was a notorious gossip. “You should’ve tried out.”

  “Ha! As if I have time for that.” She pushed her perfect hair behind her shoulder. “Besides, I can’t write worth a flip.”

  “Oh, well, I was just thinking how you always have the scoop.”

  I liked Rachel, we just had nothing in common. In addition to being head cheerleader, she’d dated her boyfriend Brad Brennan since middle school. Brad was the star of our high school football team, the Dolphins. Clichés had to start somewhere I guessed.

  “Show me your schedule,” Rachel said, breaking my thoughts. She quickly scanned our class listings. “Hmm… no matches. But we have the same lunch period. See you then?”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking how even though our future plans were vastly different, Rachel was still pretty decent, unlike some of the other cheerleaders. We might never be soul sisters, but she was at least a friend.

  I ducked into English class, happy for the escape. I loved to read, and writing was my passion. Being tapped for the school newsblog was the icing on the cake, and I hoped it would make the time pass quickly.

  My literature book was halfway out of my bag when I glanced up and almost dropped it on the floor. There he was. Again. Jack was standing in the doorway, totally hot and completely out of place in our required uniform khaki pants and white oxford shirt. I could swear he was still glowing. I couldn’t breathe.

  I closed my mouth and tried not to stare as he made his way to the seat next to mine. What was he doing here?

  Mrs. Bowman walked in and everyone got quiet. “Welcome back, students. I expect you to be in your seats with your mouths closed,” she said in her military monotone.

  As she went down the list, I knew all the names from last year. We’d had to test to get in this class, and we’d earn college credit for taking it if we passed another test at the end of the year.

  “John Kyser?” That was him—the only new name.

  “It’s Jack,” he said in that voice that made me shiver.

  He rose to hand her a slip of paper, and my mind filled with images of what he looked like under that uniform. I slid my hand up to cover my pink cheeks as he returned to his seat.

  “I see. Transfer from Sacred Heart. Welcome, Mr. Kyser.”

  Mr. Kyser. My brow lined as my journalistic wheels started turning. The only Mr. Kyser I’d heard of, Bill Kyser, was the developer who’d transformed East End Beach into a major tourist destination. He was a super-rich recluse, who I’d never even considered might have a family. I strained my eyes, trying to peek at Jack without turning my head. Could they be related?

  Sacred Heart was a very expensive private school on Terry Cove, and it was almost exclusively for children of Hammond Island residents. There had to be some connection, but those ultra-rich locals wanted to be left alone. And they had the money to make it happen. So why in the world would he be here?

  Class went on as usual, and Jack never even glanced in my direction. He didn’t speak to anyone and was generally aloof for the remainder of the hour. I started to feel irritated with him being in our perfectly good school acting like he was better than everyone else when the period ended, and the room burst into the chaos of everyone packing up to leave.

  Rachel was absolutely giddy in the hall. “Oh my god, Jack Kyser was in your class,” she squealed. “He is so hot. I saw his sister earlier, too. You know their dad is Bill Kyser? He practically put East End Beach on the map. Their house is the biggest on Hammond Island—”

  “I was putting that together,” I answered quickly, trying to get her moving. We were standing in the door of my class, and I cringed fearing he might hear us talking about him.

  Rachel was undeterred. She switched to gossip voice—all low and sneaky. “I heard his sister got kicked out of Sacred Heart last year because she was having sex with a teacher!”

  “Rachel, gah,” I grabbed her arm and pulled her fast down the hall. “Why would anybody do a teacher?” That was a mental image I didn’t need.

  “Oh, grow up, Anna. He was probably young and hot.” Rachel flipped her hair.

  She and Brad really had been together since eighth grad
e, and I’d heard they were already planning their wedding—yes, it was nuts. As previously noted, we had nothing in common, but because of their “advanced relationship,” as she liked to call it, Rachel considered herself an authority on all things guy-related. I suppressed an eye-roll. As if Brad was such a mystery. Football, hunting, food, sex, done. Pretty standard southern male. Maybe throw in a beer or two for good measure.

  “They’ve always been wild,” she continued. “Since they lost their mom and all.”

  That piqued my interest. I remembered their conversation on the beach. “What happened to their mom?”

  “Car wreck. And their dad never remarried. Practically became a hermit after it happened. He just lets them do whatever they want now.”

  “That’s sad.” I was distracted as I turned toward my next class and nearly slammed into a stationary body. “Oh!”

  Lucy was standing there looking like she’d just stepped off a fashion-show runway, despite being in the same khaki skirt and white polo as the rest of us. She had accessorized with hoop earrings, a striped belt, and flats, and her golden hair was smoothed into a side ponytail.

  “I know you,” she smiled at me. “We met at the beach. I’m Lucy?”

  “Uh, yeah… I remember.” Of all the people. And there was no way she didn’t just hear us gossiping about her. “Anna.”

  Rachel made a face that said busted and bumped my arm. “Gotta get to class.”

  “You going in here?” Lucy said.

  She at least appeared unaware we were talking about her, so I tried to be casual. “Yeah, civics-free enterprise. It’s supposed to be a lot cushier than taking a whole year of civics.”

  “Right. I couldn’t care less about government.” I followed her in, and we found seats together.

  “I think I have English with your brother,” I said.

  “Jack? Oh, he’s so smart. He’s going to Yale, you know.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Yeah. He’s brilliant. He got all the brains in the womb.”

  “You guys are twins?” I felt like I should’ve seen it yesterday.