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sound of the waves pounding the beach, a
heavenly sound to her at one time, now seemed very depressing.
    "Dick, please take me back to the cave so I
can sleep some more. I've heard all I can handle today."
    Without saying another word he took her
back.
     
* * *
     
    After he was sure Jessica was sleeping he
left the cave, went outside and stared across at the east side of
the island.
    He'd almost blown it, had almost said: Edward might have washed ashore on another beach . It would
have been a huge blunder talking about the other parts of the
island. Jessica might have wanted to go see if they could find her
husband. Maybe tomorrow she'd want to do that anyway and that
wouldn't be good. No. He must keep Jessica focusing on herself.
    Jessica thought of him as having a name that
some childhood friends once used to call him: Dick. And oh how
appropriately it described what he was being at the moment.
    The trees swaying in the breeze were the
perfect mask for the terrible secret. Perhaps too perfect? He
wondered if he'd be able to pull off his plan. It would be quite a
test and he could see many advantages if successful.
    But if he failed?
     

CHAPTER 4
     
    A pleasant hour passed while Richard, the man
Jessica knew as Dick, sat on his rock seat and admired the sleeping
woman. Despite her ruined blouse that the ocean had wrecked,
Jessica was still more beautiful than any woman in his wildest,
most vivid fantasy. She had the most captivating, entrancing
ash-blond hair; it laid there, oh so natural, without the added
four-hour curling and combing and hair spraying (which left most
women with oily stiff mop heads, instead of hair).
    Her piercing brown eyes happily reminded him
of his favorite candy, Hershey's Kisses, and when she was sad those
Kisses appeared to melt like the famous chocolate. Her petite,
inviting lips. She had a very natural look, unlike his nose which
had been broken a handful of times and looked like a Rorschach ink
blot. She had a tiny mouth, opening to a full set of gleaming
whites, and a wonderful smile. She was just like his dream told
him.
    Something fresh.
    He stood up, his tree branch honed to a fine
edge, and walked over to her. He stroked her hair with the
branch-spear. "So. . .fresh."
    Five minutes later he left her alone in the
cave.
     
* * *
     
    Jessica awoke and sensed being alone. She
sprung up and searched around.
    Where was Dick? The rock where he had been
whittling was vacant. The sun still shone brightly through the cave
entrance, and she told herself that he had probably just stepped
outside to find another branch to whittle. She must not have been
asleep that long. An hour? two? At least, Dick had not left her
alone in the dark.
    But he had left her alone.
    Fear strangled her body. Tiny ripples of
gooseflesh rose like weeds all over her body. The cave reeked not
only of fish, but of a worse odor, a fouler stench: loneliness.
    She got up and went quickly to the cave
entrance.
    "Dick? Dick?"
    The wind howled. Mocked.
    Louder: "Dick?"
    Nothing. No echo.
    She walked ten feet down the beaten trail.
Stood alongside the makeshift bathroom. Called again.
    "Dick?"
    He was gone.
    Looking into the jungle's confusing mixture
of plants, vines, rocks and trees, she remembered his cautionary
words: Still plenty big enough to get lost in .
    Yes , she thought and his other words
resonated inside her brain: if you know what I mean .
    The wind drove a few icy chills up and down
her spine.
    Where could Dick have gone? The beach?
Fishing?
    "Dick?" she called out again. No doubt, he'd
left her alone. What's wrong with that? Her conscience was
annoyed, it's broad daylight and you're being (Edward's words): chickenshit .
    But even in their Valford mansion she
couldn't stand being left alone. And Edward seemed to leave her
alone too often. "Stop being so yellow honey," he'd say with his
annoying chuckle. A sound like billiard balls cracking together
during an aggressive break. "What's so bad about being home