“It’s going to be there,” Mason said confidently, offering his hand as they made their way along the trail, then off through tall shrubs and over some sharp rocks poking up out of the sand and into the tree-shaded woods. Mangroves encroached to one side of where they walked, and Mason stepped carefully to make sure they were on solid ground.
“There,” she said, spotting the shack and moving toward it, her feet instinctively remembering the paths of her childhood.
“But where? Where would she hide it?” Gina said, mostly to herself, regarding the rickety cabin.
“I can’t believe they’d leave it out here, where it might be damaged by the elements. So…inside?”
“Makes sense.”
They went inside the structure, and looked around at the few benches that were put there, but this was a place
to ride out bad weather or spend an afternoon during a picnic. There weren’t cupboards or closets, just one room with very few hiding spots.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Gina said, shaking her head as she ran her hands along the walls and looked up, but there just wasn’t anywhere to hide things here. Her instincts had been off.
“Wait,” Mason said, grabbing a pocket knife from his coat. Gina had noticed he always carried it, and found it interesting. Her stepdad didn’t leave the house without his Swiss Army knife, which had other tools attached. Apparently Mason was of the same mindset.
She watched as he walked across the room, stared at the floor and stopped. “Here. These boards have been messed with, see?” He pointed to ragged chips at the edges, and wedged his own knife into the space, pulling up.
Gina gasped when she saw the small brown notebook wrapped in the plastic bag.
“Mason, you did it! You found it!”
He opened it, skimming pages as she looked on. “This is incredible. A record of all of Dupree’s transactions in the last fourteen months…he kept track of every detail.”
“Seems risky to write down things like that,” Gina offered.
“Yeah, well, all businesses have to keep records somehow, especially when the people you work with are likely to kill you, it’s probably especially important,” he said, looking through the entries. “What’s this?”
He paged to the end where something was taped to the back of the notebook.
“It’s a birth announcement,” Gina remarked, unable to read the language of the text, but the format and the picture of the baby with the dates seemed clear enough. “This must be how he discovered his son. Where he was. It probably includes the name of the mother…yes, see here, Elena. It’s how he knew.”
“And it’s also direct evidence linking him to her murder and taking the boy, among other crimes listed here. No wonder he’s willing to do just about anything to get this.”
“But he’s also going to want to kill anyone who’s seen it,” Gina added morosely, her heart sinking. There was no way out of this. No good way. She looked up at Mason, her hand curling into the front of his coat. “What are we going to do?”
His hand cupped her chin as he planted a solid kiss on her lips, sliding the notebook inside of his jacket.
“I have some ideas. Tracy was right about one thing—this is very powerful leverage against Dupree. He isn’t holding all of the cards as long as we have this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s threatened to kill Tracy, but if he does, then what else does he have? There’s nothing to stop us from bringing this to the feds—which we should do anyway, by the way. I fully plan to make a copy and mail it to Kelly before we go anywhere.”
Gina didn’t argue. That made sense. That way, even if the worst happened, Dupree would still go down, too.
“Honestly, right now, I think we’re in the stronger bargaining position.”
“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she said as they made their way back to the ferry dock.
“That’s because he’s trying to play the fear card.”
“He’s very good at it.”
“But I think we can exert some leverage of our own. Make him come to the book, with your sister, instead of making us come to him. It’s a risk, but there’s no way around it. It’s the only play we have, really.”
Gina nodded, seeing his point. “I hope he goes for it.”
Mason stopped midstep, pulled her in close and hugged her hard. “Me, too. All we can do is our best.”
When they started walking, Gina watched the man beside her and knew she was in love. He was steady, brave and he had been there for her every moment since this entire thing started, and he barely knew her or Tracy. She knew in her heart that she was falling in love with him, and was helpless to stop it. Regardless of their circumstances, there was nothing make-believe about it.
T
RACY WOKE UP, HER LEGS NUMB
from where she was crunched into the corner of the small berth, plastered up against Rio, who, to her great relief, was still breathing. His copper skin was pale and hot, and his eyes blurry as they fluttered open, looking down at her.
After the phone call from Gina, which had been what
Tracy had prayed for, Dupree had locked them both down in this stinking place in the bottom of the boat, leaving them in the cold, damp space.
Her teeth chattered as she tried to smile, pushing back Rio’s hair from his face and holding back her own tears. Her foolishness had led to this. She had put herself and everyone she loved in danger. She just hoped to hell that Gina had given the information to the cops, to someone, and didn’t try to come herself.
“Hey, handsome, you hanging in?” she asked Rio, trying to sound encouraging, though in truth he looked worse than ever.
His voice was faint, and tears escaped as he did speak, trying to offer a reassuring smile. “Not as bad as I thought,” he said.
“Gina called here. She’ll bring help. You have to hold on, okay? Just hold on, because I can’t lose you again,” Tracy begged, kissing his mouth and holding him close.
The shot had hit him in the side. The bleeding had stopped, but the bullet was lodged and she figured he had an infection from his fever. She had no idea how to help, or how long he had left. Every minute felt like centuries, waiting. There was a glimmer of sunlight through the crack in the door, so it was daytime, but she had no idea how long it had been since they’d talked with Gina.
“You stay with me, Rio, I mean it. I love you—don’t give up on us now.”
Rio nodded faintly, squeezing her hand before his eyes fluttered shut again and his grip loosened. Tracy
pushed herself upward into a crouch, the room being only about three feet tall, and pounded on the door, though she didn’t know what she expected to do if someone answered.
She could tell Peter to take her to the book, and she would get it for him, but only if he got Rio to a hospital. He would probably kill her, or worse, but Tracy had to do something. She pounded harder, yelling again.
She gasped as she saw the light coming through the crack darken for a second, footsteps outside. Fear gripped her, but looking at Rio, she took a deep breath, ready to bargain with Peter, to give him whatever he wanted if he would let Rio live.
But to her surprise, as the door lifted up, she didn’t see Peter, though Ricki had his father’s eyes.
“Ricki! What are you doing?” she asked, peeping up and looking around. No one else was there.
The boy pushed the door open fully, and peered down into the berth, regarding Rio solemnly. He held out his hand to Tracy, who shook her head.
“No, Ricki. No. Your father would hurt you if you help us. You must go,” she said, shooing the young boy away.
He stood there stubbornly with his hand out, and Tracy didn’t know what to do. If she went with him she could be endangering the boy. If she passed up this chance, she and Rio were dead. Still, he was just a child, and she suspected he had seen his own share of horrible things, considering who his father was.
She took him by the shoulders. “You go. You go
now, leave!” she ordered harshly, pushing him back, tears stinging her eyes.
Ricki frowned and then did as she asked, running away from the berth, though he left the doors open. Tracy pulled herself up and closed the doors, praying that Rio would be okay, and that no one would find out she was missing. If she could make her way to the cockpit, to the radio, she could call for help.
Stepping gingerly up the narrow staircase that brought her up to the first deck, she looked around, seeing no one. Weird. Then, she gasped as something touched her leg, and she nearly kicked out in panic, until she saw Ricki again.
This time, he had something in his hand, and pushed it toward her.
A marine radio. She and Gina had spent more than enough time on boats, and she grabbed the radio eagerly, pulling Ricki in for a tight hug and kissing his cheek soundly.
“Ricki, you are a wonder. Now go, hide. Don’t let them know.”
It appeared the boy spoke English, he just chose not to speak, but followed her direction, disappearing along the passageway and out of sight.
Tracy made her way to the deck, and tried to stay out of sight, sliding inside a doorway, but looking around, trying to get some kind of fix on their location.
“Mayday, Mayday…is someone out there?”
Tracy repeated the distress call, and finally, a voice
crackled back at her. “This is the U.S. Coast Guard. What is the nature of your emergency?”
“I’ve been kidnapped, my husband has been shot, we’re being held on a boat,
Sudden Death
—it belongs to Peter Dupree,” she said, remembering the yacht’s name suddenly, her heart beating frantically in her chest.
“Ma’am, can you tell us anything about your position and how many assailants are on board?”
Tracy searched around the shoreline, looking for any clue she could. “No, all I can see are mangroves and beaches,” she said, gulping for air. “Please, we need help. There are probably three or four guys on board, but I can’t see them. I think my husband is dying,” she said, her knees giving out as sobs took over.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there? Do you know your husband’s medical status?”
Tracy gasped as she heard large, heavy footsteps heading in her direction, her mind blanking. “He doesn’t have much time. Someone is coming…I have to swim for it.”
The man on the radio asked if she was in the water, obviously confused.
“I will be in a minute,” she said, pushing forward and running for the stairs as the heavy footsteps closed in behind her, leaping for the rail.
M
ASON WALKED QUICKLY WITH
Gina to the front of the ferry office, hoping they would find a cab, but as it turned out, he didn’t have to worry about their transportation.
Special Agent Kelly, standing by his car and flanked by two other black SUVs, belonging to his backup, Mason presumed. Busted.
“Counselor, Ms. Thomas. We take it you had a successful search on the island?”
Gina looked from the agent to him, her shock showing in her pretty eyes. “How did they know? Mason, did you tell them? How could you?”
Mason shook his head. “I didn’t. I did tell them about the phone, but—”
“But you lied about her making a call, and you lied about there being no new developments. I suggest you bring us up to speed, fast, or you’ll both be arrested for obstruction. That could cost you your job, Counselor.”
Gina stepped forward, grasping Kelly’s arm, and Mason saw the other men take a slight step forward. Then, to his complete surprise, two more people, an older woman and a man, joined them, dressed as tourists. They had been on the boat, Mason realized.
“You’ve been watching us every step of the way,” Mason said, grimacing.
“Yes. And we need whatever it is you found on that island. We thought perhaps you were foolish enough to try to track down Dupree, but since that wasn’t it, what were you doing?”
“Agent Kelly, you can’t do this! Dupree could be watching. He said he’d kill them if he knew that you were involved. He has someone on the inside, the same person who took the pictures, and—”
“We know all of this, Gina,” Kelly said, removing her hand. “The agent that gave Dupree the photos is dead. Killed by Dupree himself, or one of his thugs, we assume.”
“But there could be others, and he’ll know.”
“What did he talk to you about, Gina? Tell us, and we’ll do whatever we can to help your sister, but we can’t help if you don’t let us.”
“If you knew we were here, how come you don’t know everything?” she asked belligerently.
“The cottage is only wired for video surveillance, not audio. We could see you on the phone, but we couldn’t hear you. So, we followed. Beck and Hartman saw you go into the cabin and come out with something. We need to know what it is. Now.”
Mason stepped forward, reaching into his jacket.
“Mason, no, you
can’t
,” Gina protested, but Mason knew that there was no way out of this.
“We have to, Gina. You can’t help Tracy from jail.”
He tried to ignore the pain of betrayal in her expression as he handed the booklet to Kelly, his own heart sinking. Maybe if things worked out, Gina would be able to forgive him, but he doubted it, the way she was looking at him now.
Kelly’s eyebrows rose as he looked through the notebook. “And how did you find this?”
“Tracy and Rio stole it from Dupree, thinking it would be insurance. Instead, he got them, shot Rio, and he’s holding Tracy somewhere. He told Gina if she found it and turned it over to him, then he wouldn’t kill her sister.”
Kelly looked incredulous. “No, he would kill
all
of you, and we wouldn’t have this evidence, which is enough to put him away for a very long time.”
“We planned to send you a copy, just in case,” Mason told him. “And we also had a plan. If you listen to us for a minute, it might still work.”
Agent Kelly crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m listening.”
Mason told him about the plan to draw Dupree out, to make him bring Tracy to them in a public area where they could make a trade. All the while trying to ignore the daggers from Gina’s stare. To his surprise, Agent Kelly nodded.
“That could actually work. But we’d use agents, send in a man and a woman posing as you—”
“No. Dupree probably knows what we look like—he would never fall for that,” Gina blurted. “And we can’t give him a copy of that book, it has to be the original. We only have six hours. There’s no time. I have to do it. It has to be me.”