Friday Feature & Giveaway: Relative Silence by Carrie Stuart Parks

Prologue

Curlew Island, South Carolina

Fifteen years ago

The piercing scream ripped up my spine. I dropped the spatula and spun.

My almost-three-year-old daughter, Dove, stood at the door to the kitchen and held out her favorite toy, a tattered stuffed bunny she’d named Piggy. Piggy’s ear was hanging by a thread with stuffing protruding from the opening.

“Mommy,” she sobbed. “P-P-Piggy’s hurt.”

I turned off the blender. I’d told Mildred, the housekeeper, I was going to make dessert and was elbow-deep in half-whipped meringue for the banana pudding now cooling next to me.

“Come here, Dove, and let Mommy see.”

Still crying, Dove launched herself at me.

I lifted her and checked my watch. No one was at the family’s Curlew Island home at the moment except my husband, Ashlee. He’d said he would look after Dove while I did some cooking. Yet here she was with a damaged toy and in need of comfort, while he, as usual, was absent.

“Sweetheart, Mommy will have to fix Piggy in a little bit. Where’s Daddy?”

She shook her head. Her sobbing settled into hiccups and loud sniffles.

Shifting her to my hip, I caught sight of movement in the foyer. “Ashlee?”

The front door clicked shut.

Still holding Dove, I charged through the house and opened the front door. Ashlee was just climbing into a golf cart, the only transportation on the island. “Just where did you think you were going? You’re supposed to be watching Dove.”

“Don’t give me a hard time, Piper.” His face was pale with beads of sweat on his forehead. “I have an errand to run on the mainland. Mildred can watch Dove.”

“Mildred’s getting groceries and I’m cooking. Take Dove with you. You don’t spend nearly enough time with your only child.”

“Look, Piper, this is important and I don’t—”

“So’s your daughter. Or maybe we should all go to the mainland together if something is that important. Better yet, you finish dessert and I’ll get to play with Dove.” I was heartily tired of Ashlee’s constant racing off to “something important.” His work as head of marketing at the family business, Boone Industries, was stressful and kept him busy, but this was getting ridiculous.

He took out a handkerchief and swabbed his sweaty brow. “N-no. I’ll take her.”

Dove had relaxed against my shoulder. “She’s overdue for her nap, and the boat always puts her fast asleep. Just be sure to put her life jacket on. There are snacks on the boat if she gets hungry.”

Ashlee opened his mouth, then shut it. A vein pounded in his forehead.

“Dove, sweetie,” I said. “Go for a boat ride with your daddy. I’ll take care of Piggy, okay?”

She nodded under my chin and allowed me to hand her over to Ashlee.

“Will you be long?”

“As long as I need to be.” Without another word he got into the cart and drove toward the dock.

The late October day was pleasantly warm, and although Dove wore a white T-shirt and short skirt, she could always crawl under a blanket in the saloon if the boat ride was too cool.

I took poor Piggy back into the kitchen and placed her on the end of the counter, hoping the meringue was salvageable. I topped the banana pudding, stuck the dessert into the oven, set the timer, and moved to Dove’s room to change the sheets. Finishing just as the pudding was ready, I placed it on the counter to cool.

After washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, I still had laundry to do. How could I be washing more clothes than we’d packed?

Once a year the entire family would gather on the private island for a stockholders’ meeting and retreat, joining the year-round staff. I’d like to say that seeing my family together in this beautiful paradise was a special treat. Unfortunately, I was closer to the housekeeper than to my own mother. At least the beach was sandy, the ocean refreshing, and the house spectacular and spacious. Dove, of course, was perfect. And Ashlee? Back to the laundry.

After shifting a load from the washer to the dryer, I made my way past the workout and sewing room toward the kitchen. Could a rabbit ear be repaired on a sewing machine? Ha! I didn’t even know how to thread a bobbin. I found Mildred in the kitchen, checking a store receipt. “I didn’t know you’d returned. Do you need help with the groceries?”

“Already done.”

“Then I timed my offer perfectly. Do you know how to thread a bobbin?”

“Have you been out in the sun too long?”

“It’s a rabbit-ear question.”

“Next time wear a hat.”

I grinned at the older woman. “To thread a bobbin?”

“You are the oddest child,” she muttered, then nodded at my banana pudding. “But you do make the most beautiful desserts.” We busied ourselves preparing dinner. The stockholders’ meeting was tomorrow, and the remaining members of the family would arrive tonight.

“Strange,” Mildred said after the pot roast had been placed in the oven.

“What?”

“I’d have thought everyone would be here by now.”

I glanced at my watch. Ashlee and Dove had been gone for five hours. Dove would be starving. “I’m sure—”

The phone rang.

“That’s probably them now.” I picked up the receiver. “Boone residence.”

“Piper!” It was my older brother, Tern. “Oh, Piper, I’m . . . I’m at the hospital. It’s Ashlee.”

I squeezed the receiver tighter. “What’s going on? Is Dove okay?”

Tern groaned.

I reached for Mildred. She took my hand, then put her arm around me to keep my knees from buckling. “Tern? Tern!

Tern didn’t answer. A male voice took over. “Mrs. Piper Yates? This is Officer Stan Gragg of the Marion Inlet Police. There’s been an incident involving your husband. He was attacked on the dock and your family’s yacht was stolen. He’ll be fine, but we’re having the doctor check him out—”

“What about my daughter, Dove?” I tried to keep my voice under control, but the words came out shrill.

“We believe she was still on the boat. I’m afraid she’s missing.”