CHAPTER SIX

      HANNAH STARED at the woman who confronted her, taking in details swiftly. She appeared to be about Hannah’s age or slightly older, though it was hard to tell since the woman’s skin showed signs of long-term sun exposure. She was athletically built, wearing a blue work shirt, khaki shorts and hiking boots with thick socks rolled over the top. In her hand was a tool that looked like the perfect murder weapon…a strange hammer-like thing with a huge, curved ice-pick in place of the claw.

      Hannah instinctively stepped back. “Who are you?”

      “Edna Harkin. Volcanologist. And where do you get off going after my man?”

      “I’m not going after anyone.”

      “Yeah, right. I’ve been hearing stories.”

      “Stories?” All of a sudden, Hannah was fed up with this island. “If you’ve been hearing stories they must be coming from the voices in your head!”

      Edna waved her hammer. “I’ve been hearing them from everyone in town!”

      “Well everyone in town could hardly know what they’re talking about since I only got here last night!”

      “And stayed at Buck’s place.”

      “And stayed in the hangar in my own plane, sleeping with a freaking alligator!”

      Edna nodded. “Right, but Buster didn’t hurt you.”

      “Does everyone know everything about everyone on this island?” Hannah asked in exasperation.

      “Only about you,” Edna said, matter-of-factly.

      “So what are your plans for that hammer?” Hannah asked.

      It was as if Edna Harkin suddenly realized the thing was in her hand. She gaped at it, then swiftly tucked it in a leather holster attached to her belt. “Sorry.”

      “You should be sorry! Where do you get off waving deadly weapons at total strangers?”

      “I forgot I was holding it! And who the hell are you to tell me what I can do?”

      “Just a passing stranger who feels as if she’s fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole. What is it with you people? Is there something in the water? In the air? Or were you all sent here by a mental hospital that had had enough?”

      “Hey, you don’t have to be insulting!”

      “Why not? I’ve been accused of things by people I don’t know, roped into buying supplies I don’t need, and yelled at by a mad woman waving a hammer.”

      “I’m not mad!”

      “No, but you are furious,” drawled a deep voice.

      Hannah spun about and found herself looking into the exceedingly handsome face of Bill Anstin. In that instant, she totally forgot Edna. “Bill Anstin!” she said, feeling a little amazed. “I was at the rail when you won the World Series of Poker.”

      He smiled, a wide, winning smile. No wonder his nickname in the poker world was Handsome Anstin. His looks were too good to be true. Unfortunately, he seemed to know it.

      “Nice to meet you,” he said, giving her the kind of once-over that always made her skin crawl. “You must be that pilot who blew away our game last night. Sticks, isn’t it?”

      “Umm, no. Hannah Lamont.” She shook his hand, wishing she didn’t feel impressed in spite of herself. Luck might have won him the World Series, but he was still a winner. He still owned the coveted bracelet—which, she noticed, he was wearing.

      “Hi, Edna,” Anstin said to the volcanologist. “Come down from the mountain for the storm?”

      Edna gave a short nod. “Time to hole up. I also need to get some more people out here. I think the mountain is starting to get active again.”

      “Well, nobody’s going to get in here till after the storm.”

      “I know that. But I still need to make some calls.” Edna looked at Anstin as if she wished he’d drop from the face of the earth.

      Anstin gave Hannah another once-over. “Buy you a drink, Sticks?”

      “No, thanks. I’ve got to get back to my plane.”

      “Maybe you’ll come play at the casino when the storm has passed. I can give you some tips on your game.”

      “Thanks. Nice meeting you.”

      Anstin strolled away looking as if he owned the place. Edna sidled up beside Hannah. “Look out for that guy. He never tells the truth when a lie will do. I swear, he lives life on a bluff.”

      Hannah nodded. “He seems…oily.”

      “Greasy. Globs and globs of emotional grease.”

      Hannah looked at her. “Are you really worried about the volcano?”

      Edna shrugged. “Prediction is pretty much a guessing game. I need a team out here.”

      Hannah hesitated. “This is not making me happy.”

      Edna shrugged. “It’s thrilling the heck out of me. But I’m a volcanologist. We’re not wimps.”

      Hannah chose to ignore the insult. “What if it erupts during the storm?”

      “Then….” Edna shrugged again. “How much trouble we’ll be in depends on the kind of eruption. I mean, this mountain is sometimes explosive, like Mount St. Helens, and sometimes more like the volcanoes in Hawaii…just slow lava flows. You can outwalk those if you need to. But honestly?”

      “Yes?”

      “I don’t think anything’s going to happen immediately.”

      “Thank God. I like excitement, but not that kind.”

      “You better not like the Buck kind of excitement either,” Edna said, frowning at her in a way that suggested to Hannah the hammer had not been in Edna’s hands by accident. She took a step back.

      Edna left, tossing one more warning glare over her shoulder.

      Craig looked at the pallet of supplies when he pulled up in his Jeep a few seconds