Emerald Fire (36 page)

Finn couldn’t wait much longer for Jonathan to act. This little rooftop scene was about to get ugly, and he needed Chloe safe. He needed that distraction, and he needed it now.

Owen held the chest arm’s length in front of him, bearing a peace offering to a man who had no intention of leaving witnesses.

“Stop,” Hosea commanded. “Put the little chest down right there and step back with your friends.”

Owen did as directed, backing away from the pirate with careful steps. Finn contemplated making a grab for the gun he spotted at Owen’s back, but wrestling it from the weasel would require more time than they had to spare.

Hosea signaled Hector to retrieve the cache of jewels, and like a good little mongrel, he jumped to obey his master.

“This is a good start,” Hosea said. “But I am not yet happy. There is one more debt to pay.”

Finn knew it would be his for the punishment he’d delivered in the Bahamas and steeled himself for what was about to happen.

But rather than shoot him or sic his goon to inflict damage, Hosea stepped over to the roof edge and waved down to someone on the ground before turning back to them with a deadly smile of anticipation. “The Holy book decrees an eye for an eye. In this, I believe. You blew up my buildings, so I will now blow up yours.”

Dread sank into Finn’s bones. He must have made a move for the pirate because Chloe grasped his arm. “Finn!”

Her cry barely had time to register in his brain when an earth-shaking boom rattled the building where they stood. Lisa screamed and fell into a heap on the shingles, arms over her head as a rolling black cloud rose from the lumber corral.

Finn’s heart dropped at the loss of expensive teak and mahogany, ship’s planking, and years of aged beams for restoration matching. Bright orange flames were beginning to eat at the old walls, and the well-stocked bins of dried lumber quickly succumbed to a fuel-induced feeding frenzy.

Hosea doubled over laughing, wholly enjoying the destruction. During that brief span of inattention, Finn reacted. He charged across the ten feet separating him and Hector and body slammed the guy, knocking them both to the ground. He used the force of the blow to roll and a death grip on the pirate to fling him toward the open hatch.

Finn followed through to his feet, while the other guy scrambled to stop a life-threatening slide. Without a second’s hesitation, Finn snatched the chest of emeralds and turned, only to stop short on the business end of Owen’s gun.

The damn fool had it aimed right for him like he was the enemy instead of the humble businessman from Boca Chica who just blew up thousands of dollars of rare lumber.

“Owen, no!” Chloe cried out.

When the shot fired, it came from Hosea.

Fear and adrenaline surged through Chloe. For several heart-stopping seconds, she quit breathing until she realized Finn wasn’t down. Hosea had shot Owen. The dark stain of red blood began to spread on her cousin’s chest just below his shoulder.

He stared down at the horrifying sight in utter shock, then glanced up at Chloe, jaw slack and eyes glassy. Without even bothering to look or aim, he lifted the gun and fired three rounds at Hosea.

Then Finn was on her, yanking her into motion. One hand clamped like steel on her wrist, the other clutching the chest of emeralds, they sprinted over the mossy shingles, building speed and aiming straight toward the roof’s edge.

By the time she realized his intent, there was zero chance to prepare. A few quick steps later, they plunged off the roof and into a three-story fall.

Chloe tried to suck in a huge lungful of air on the way down, but terror and the downward pull of gravity conspired against her. She’d barely managed half a breath before they’d hit the water and sank.

She forgot to tuck during the fall to minimize the impact zone and slice in rather than slam the surface with stinging force. Her spread arms helped slow her descent, though, and she twisted, trying to right herself. A few strong kicks upward, and she burst free, gasping to fill her lungs with air. She treaded water, breathing heavy as gunfire sounded above her. She spun around, looking for Finn and spotted him several feet away.

She rolled and started swimming his way, but something heavy struck the surface right beside her, dousing her in another breath-stealing splash. A coughing fit racked her as Finn dove underwater. By the time she recovered, he’d returned, pulling a body with him.

It was Owen. Finn rolled him over, face up. A second bullet hole had neatly pierced his forehead. He was dead.

Chloe would’ve screamed if she’d had the breath. A burning choke tightened in her throat, and she spun from the sight, trying to swim away. But coordination had left her. She flailed in the water, gasping for air, coughing or crying, she couldn’t tell which.

Finn swam up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “Relax, Chloe, stop fighting it.”

Physically she let go, logic and survival telling her he was right, but a jagged cut of emotion seared her nerves. Owen floated aimlessly, twirling in the mild ocean currents as Finn pulled them several strokes away. He stopped beside the first massive pylon that supported the dry dock and treaded water, holding her until she got a grip on the raw horror that squeezed her soul.

“Look at me, Chloe,” he said.

She responded to the authority in his voice and blinked rapidly, beginning to return to herself, to the precariousness of their situation.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, not all certain that was true. But the shock that gripped her was dissipating, and she took back control. She pushed out of Finn’s hold. “Emeralds?” she asked.

“Below us,” he said.

“At the bottom of the harbor?” Chloe gasped.

He nodded and pointed up toward the dock. “Come on.”

They swam next to the pylons until they reached a rough ladder. He pulled her over to the rungs. “Climb.”

She got her footing and headed up. He followed close behind. She stepped onto the weathered walkway and leaned over, hands on her knees, and gulped in several deep breaths. “I can’t believe…you lost the emeralds,” Chloe choked out.

“No, I didn’t,” he said as he dug around in a plywood storage locker meant for buoys and anchor line. “I sank them to keep them safe until this is over.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “It’s just like the
Fire.
”

He pulled out a small blade, about the size of a steak knife, and stuck it into the back pocket of his soaking wet jeans. “No it isn’t. That chest weighs ten or twelve pounds. This is a long harbor, the tide isn’t strong, and we’re tucked in a cove. The jewels will sit down there, safe and sound.”

She straightened, pushing wet hair out of her face. “They won’t wash away?”

“Trust me, Chloe. It’s the safest place for them.” He quietly closed the locker, a wrench and screwdriver in his hands.

She nodded. What choice did she have? But dear heavens, they were priceless royal emeralds.
And he sank them
.

Finn handed her the wrench. “If you get close enough, hit hard.”

As weapons went, it didn’t look like much. What she wouldn’t give for a killer Uzi or maybe an M-1tank. Why couldn’t one of those have been stashed in the box?

Finn headed down the walkway, and she sprinted behind him. They hugged the building as they hustled down the length, still dripping wet and leaving an obvious trail. It didn’t matter. A part of her brain wondered what happened to Lisa. Was she dead, too? In a crumpled heap on the roof?

The walkway ended, and their feet hit solid ground before they reached the front of the dock and pressed their backs against the old slat-board wall. A booming kick at the pedestrian door startled Chloe and shook the wall they leaned against. There was another and another until she heard splintering wood, the door crumbling under the force and knocked off its hinges.

Still Finn didn’t move, they didn’t run, just stood there pressed up against the wall as the acrid scent of burning wood and debris surrounded them, punctuated by the hiss and pop of dying lumber.

Lisa screamed, though it sounded more out of fury than fear. There was a scuffle, and Chloe wondered if her step-aunt had tried to flee. There were two pirates on that roof. Which one had her?

“I know you are out here,” Hosea shouted.

It was broad daylight and little place to hide, if that was really an option. Chloe brought up a mental image of the grounds from yesterday’s tour. Hosea would be standing in the center gravel yard with the dry dock on one side, the still-burning storage building on the other. She and Finn had no real options. They’d be spotted instantly if they tried to run. It was wide-open ground in front of them or back to the water behind them.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Hosea said in a singsong way.

Finn leaned slightly forward, peering around the corner, then pressed back to the wall. “Hosea still has a gun,” he whispered. “Hector has a knife at Lisa’s throat. There’s at least one more somewhere.”

One with detonation skills who might very well be busy rigging another explosion. Where was Uncle Jon? Ronan? Surely, they had an attack plan.

She held up her wrench. “Don’t you have real weapons hidden anywhere?” Chloe fiercely whispered back. She was fast rounding into pissed off. Owen might have been a lousy relative and ruled by greed, but he didn’t deserve to die.

“Several,” he answered. “Can’t get to any of them from here.”

He had a point. There wasn’t anything nearby that could be pressed into service either. Finn kept a tidy yard. There was a pile of old equipment on the other side of the compound that would surely offer something, but getting across unseen was impossible.

“Do you want to watch this pretty lady die, too?” Hosea yelled out.

As much as she hated Lisa, Chloe didn’t want to see her end up like Owen. But before she could suggest they go out and try to negotiate, a familiar voice joined the mix.

“Let her go,” Jonathan said as he stepped out of the shadows and into plain view.

“Ah, hell,” Finn muttered under his breath.

“Jonathan!” Lisa said in a desperate plea.

“I remember you.” Hosea’s joking tone had disappeared, replaced with the cold intensity of a killer. “You were on the big yacht. Manny stabbed you.”

“And he got thrown to the sharks. That makes us even,” her uncle said.

Hosea laughed, a harsh sound with no trace of humor. “You should be angry,
amigo
. Your compadres sank a valuable boat. Cost you much money.”

“Tell your friend to put the knife down, and we’ll talk,” her uncle said.

“I don’t want to talk. I want the emeralds.”

Chloe felt the blood drain from her face. She remembered that vicious knife, the razor sharp edge, and the unforgiving hand that held it. Finn tapped her shoulder, interrupting the unpleasant memory, and signaled her to follow.

They hurried back down the boardwalk and into the pedestrian door by the locker. As fast as they could silently run, they rounded the walls to come out to the other side, but not before Chloe snatched up a wood hatchet. They slipped out the other door and squeezed between the building and a skiff in for repairs. Finn reached into the boat, unhooked something long from the sides, and pulled out a pneumatic carbine spear gun and several arrows. Chloe nearly wept with joy.

As Finn disconnected the sling and prepped an arrow, she peeked around the corner of the dry dock and discovered they were now behind Hosea and Lisa.

“She paid me to kill you,” Hosea was saying, “and yet you fight for her life. Why would you do this?”

“She is my wife,” her uncle replied.

A technicality she hoped her uncle would eliminate the minute he got away from here and hired a lawyer.

“See that pretty necklace I put around her throat? Hector will coat it in her blood if I do not get those jewels.”

Chloe’s heart sank. Since those jewels were currently at the bottom of the harbor, Lisa’s odds of survival weren’t looking good. The gun her uncle held only offered minor improvement. He aimed it at Hosea, who aimed his own at Uncle Jon. It was a standoff.

“You have to take Hosea out,” Chloe whispered to Finn.

He’d come up behind her, and she felt him stiffen. “He’s going to kill her, then he’ll kill Uncle Jon,” she said as she turned his way. But he wasn’t looking at Hosea. He was staring toward the office.

She followed his line of sight and her heart sank.

He’d found the third pirate. The cretin was busy tossing gasoline onto wood he’d piled alongside the wall of the new addition. Another building was soon to be torched. They had to do something, and right now.

Finn dropped to one knee and took aim. The air-powered spear gun was fast and strong, but it didn’t have that kind of reach. He’d have to get closer.

She spotted movement near the trees lining the new section and recognized the man spying on the pirate.

She tapped Finn’s shoulder and pointed. “Ronan,” she whispered. Finn’s dad had a gun in his hand, but the second he fired, Hosea would be alerted and would act.

“My friends,” Hosea shouted, “your time is up. You have to the count of three to come face me, your powerful enemy.”

“What do we do?” Chloe whispered sharply.

“One.”

Finn lifted the spear again, aiming at Hosea, but Lisa and Hector were in the way.

“Two.”

“Please!” Lisa shouted. “Jonathan, help me!”

Suddenly, Chloe knew what she had to do. Hosea was a killer, and he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate Lisa. She hated the woman, but didn’t want to watch her die. That meant the situation had to change, someone had to buy them more time so they could figure out how to win against the pirate. There was only one way to accomplish that.

She straightened. “I’m going out there.”

“The hell you are,” Finn snapped.

“You can hit him,” she said softly. She reached up and brushed her palm against his face. “Please, don’t miss.”

“Three.”

“Wait!” Chloe shouted and stepped away from the dock.