Knowing Vera (Romantic Suspense, Family Drama) (Chance for Love) (16 page)

I wake to the call of shorebirds. Waves churn in close vicinity, their hypnotic cadence drowning the swish of blood through my ears. The sun has risen because I can now see through the pillowcase. I’m alone in the truck bed.

Muffled voices and footsteps approach. My bladder is full, but I pretend to be asleep.

“Up you go.” Firm hands tug me from the truck. “You need to use the outhouse?”

“Yes, please.”

“Oh, polite, aren’t you, Miss Ping. Or should I say, Miss Custodio?” The man removes the pillowcase and unties my hands. He’s leathery tan with pale blue eyes and white hair sticking out from under a canvas hat.

A greasy looking young man with crooked teeth stands with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “I say we have a little fun with her first.”

“Now, Vic, that wasn’t the boss’s instructions,” the older guy says.

“Who do you work for?” I huddle behind the older man. “And what have you done to my brothers?”

The men sound familiar with heavy Aussie accents. Could they have been the ones Zach’s father sent to rescue me in the tunnel?

Vic leers at me and pushes his face close to mine. “Would we be so stupid to tell you? How about a kiss?”

I back away, but he grabs my blouse and tears it down the middle.

“Stop it!” the old guy says. “Get the boat ready while I escort her to the loo.”

“Sure, whatever.” The young man leers. “I want a taste of you, Chinky poo.”

A ratty old windbreaker lies in the truck bed. I pick it up and shrug it over my shoulders, thankful that the older man is more decent.

He takes me through the parking lot past docks full of fishing boats to a small, tin building. The smell is horrendous, oozing a fishy stench mixed with human offal. He sticks his foot in the door, not allowing me to latch it.

After I finish, he offers me hand cleaner.

“Thanks.” I flash him a smile. “And your name is?”

“Tom. You hungry?” he asks as we walk toward the truck. “There are muffins and a carton of eggs and bacon in the cab. I’d eat up if I were you. Where you’re going, there aren’t any takeaways for food.”

“Sure, I appreciate it.” I have no clue why he’s being kind, but I’ll take what I can get right now.

The parking lot is almost deserted except for two motorcycles and a camper van. Unfortunately, no one seems to be around who I can scream to for help.

We return to the truck. Tom offers me food and orders me to sit on the tailgate. I try to wolf down as much as I can, but Vic saunters up, grinning.

“Look what I have.” He holds up a cell phone that looks like Zach’s.

“Let me see,” Tom says.

“It’s one of those fancy ones with games.” Vic swipes his finger across the screen.

They’re so engrossed in the phone, I slide off the tailgate. If I can make it through the parking lot to the street, I can flag down a passing car.

I hear the electronic sound of a camera shutter, and Vic passes the phone to Tom. “Get one of me and the chick.”

He pulls me into his arms and mushes a kiss on my lips. Yuck! His breath is fishy and stale, almost as bad as the outhouse.

“Got it.” Tom looks at the display and hands the phone back to Vic. “We better get going.”

Vic clamps his arm around me and drags me down the steps to the dock. We stop next to a sport fishing boat equipped with a rear facing angling chair and a fly bridge above the overhead cockpit. I shiver at the blood smeared across the rough white deck leading down the steps to the galley. What happened to the bodies that were with me in the truck?

“Ever watch
Survivor?
” Vic asks as he lifts me into the boat. “The twist here is you have to save your brothers before they starve. They’re tied up and imprisoned without food and water. Your assignment, should you choose to take it, is to find them before they die.”

My gut freezes thinking of Ben and Dex beaten and abandoned, likely because of me.

“What’s the point of this?” I pull away from his grip, but Tom grabs me from behind.

He pushes me onto the fishing chair and tightens luggage straps around me, tying me to the chair. “We’ll let you go when your father turns himself in.”

“Oh, oh.” Vic raises his hand and bounces up and down like a child after trick or treating. “Tell her the last minute rule change.”

“Yeah, that one.” Tom rubs his hands. “Your father chooses two of his children to be freed when he turns himself in. One has to be left behind until he transfers his winery back to the Spencers.”

I knew it. The Spencers want their vineyard back, and I stupidly led them to my father. But how can I blame Zach, the poor motherless boy with those bright blue eyes?

“Did you hear that? Your father has to leave one behind.” Vic snaps his fingers in front of my nose. “I’m betting you’re the odd man, or should I say, odd woman out. Tell her more.”

“If you agree to testify against your father, we’ll let you go back to America,” Tom says.

“But, my brothers, would you let them go if I testify?”

Vic shakes his head and makes a show of sniffling and wiping his eyes. “So sad. Their elder sister only cared about herself and left them to die.”

These two seem to enjoy playing good cop, bad cop. Whatever their game, there’s no way I’ll let my brothers suffer.

I glare at both of them. “I’m going to the island.”

Tom shakes his head as if I were an especially bratty child. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He climbs up the ladder to the cockpit and starts the engine while Vic unties the boat from the mooring. Once past the no-wake zone the boat picks up speed, and we’re bouncing out of the bay into deeper water.

Miles speed by. The ocean is rough and boisterous, and I’m clutching my stomach. The bacon and eggs churn in my belly, but I swallow desperately to keep them down. I’m so miserable I don’t even fend off Vic’s fingers running through my hair.

“Not too late to turn back, baby,” he says. “I’ve got a bunk down there. How about it? Me, you, and a pack of extra large.”

I’m numb to his grossness as he runs his hands over my body. Instead, I shut my eyes, praying I’ll survive long enough to save Ben and Dex. The boat rocks and pitches, and I’m so nauseous I wish I were dead. We seem to go forever before the motor thankfully slows.

Vic and Tom are looking toward a small island not much larger than Alcatraz. It’s devoid of buildings, barren, with patches of windblown grass feathering its rocky surface. Shorebirds perch on the rocks overlooking a narrow strip of sand.

“Off you go, girl.” Vic unstraps me from the fishing chair. The boat jumps up and down in the current and throws me against his side.

“Wait, why can’t you drop me off closer?” Panic surges from my heart. I’m not a bad swimmer, but the water’s too rough.

“You see any docks?” He leers and leans closer, his lips pursed, making kissing sounds. “Last chance to go below deck with me.”

“Get away from me, you lech.” I backhand him.

A wave pushes the boat up, and Vic heaves me overboard. I slam into the stinging cold water and gulp a desperate breath of air. Shutting my eyes, I still myself, knowing I’ll naturally float toward the surface if I don’t panic. The bubbling water drowns my hearing, and I can’t tell if the boat is still above me. My lungs ache, and I frog kick and sweep the water from top down with my hands until I break the surface.

Taking big gulps of air, I lean back so my face is toward the sky. I can do it if I stay calm. When Emily was a toddler, I took her to mother-daughter swim classes and learned basic lifesaving.

I glance toward the island. From here, the beach looks so far away. When I look back, the outline of the boat is heading toward the open ocean. Those cowards didn’t even stick around to make sure I’m safe.

But then again, why would they?

The water rolls and swells, burning my eyes as the wind blows spray into my face. I bury my head into the water and swim steadily, pacing myself. A rock formation is my reference point, and I stay to the right of it.

Birds flutter and circle above me. A swell throws seaweed over me, and I swallow water.
Push, keep pushing.
My life has funneled into stroke, stroke, kick, kick.

I don’t know how much time passes. But my arms ache and I’m breathless. Taking my bearings, I find I’m no closer to the beach than when I started. Despite the sun, I’m cold, gasping and shivering. The current swirls around me as I push toward the breakers.

A wave crashes over me and sends me spinning like I’m inside a washing machine. I’m flailing, trying not to panic when another one breaks and dunks my head underwater. A wicked cramp radiates from my calf and seizes my thigh. I bob like a cork, lifting my head just enough to take a breath, but the waves pummel me, and I sink under each trough before popping up on the other side.

Shadows creep behind my eyes along with flashes of light, and cold fear threads through me as I suck in water.

 Oh, God. I’m not going to make it.

Mama. Emily. Zach!

I fight for every breath in the churning water. The shoreline flickers like a distant mirage, and a large shadow approaches behind the crest of the next wave.
A shark?
I gasp, my heart hammering, expecting a thrashing set of jaws to clamp down on me. Instead, a shock of blond hair shakes from the surface, and Zach tugs me into his arms.

“Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” He pulls my chin up in the traditional lifesaving posture.

I’m coughing and sputtering, my mind racing. “But, I thought you set me up.”

He lets go and stops paddling. Oops, wrong thing to say to a guy trying to save my life.

“I didn’t mean it … One of their demands—”

He steadies me in the water. “Let’s get onto the beach before you start the accusations.”

I’m tongue-tied, unable to sputter a response. The best thing for me is to lie still and float while Zach drags me away from the waves breaking over the rocky ledges. We swim parallel to the beach until a swell lifts and throws us on the sand.

Scrambling to my feet, I reach for Zach. He lets the next wave wash over him as he crawls on his hands and knees. The lower left leg of his jeans drags behind because he’s missing his prosthesis. Fortunately he still has a sneaker on his right foot.

I grab ahold of him, and he loops his arm around my shoulder. Using me as a crutch, we stagger up the beach before collapsing on the hot sand littered with bits of wood and broken shells.

Zach is still catching his breath while I crouch with my hands on my knees and cough, spitting out seawater. His white shirt is torn and unbuttoned almost to his waist.

Head down, I stretch my cramped muscles, my mind as disarrayed as my hair. If Zach wasn’t behind the kidnapping, who was? What happened after I told him about my father?

My temples throb to the constant pounding of the surf, and I can’t get over those haunting blue eyes—the ones I saw right before everything turned bloody.

What if my memory’s returning? What if I saw the killer? Do I really want to know who it was?

Turning my back to the biting wind, I scan my surroundings. Tufts of long grey-green grass clump between craggy rocks; there appears to be a trail crawling toward a line of spindly trees where a tin shed sits.

Zach pushes off the ground and shuffles on his knees toward the rocky path. I rush to his side, but I’m not sure how I should respond to him. The last time I saw him, he was about to have sex with the redhead, and then I was attacked.

He peers at me from under his brooding brows. “I can’t believe you thought I had anything to do with this.”

Maybe it’s not Zach directly, but he must have led them to me. How would he have known I’d go to his place though? Or had he lured me with the redhead, knowing I’d turn jealous? Then again, no one forced me to charge in there with a knife. What had gotten into me?

I gather my hair and twist it under the collar of the jacket, trying to appear unconvinced. “I was talking to you when I was attacked.”

He rubs his five o’clock shadow and grimaces. “You freaked out and went delirious. I tried to calm you down, but some guys wearing masks barged in and grabbed you. By the time I put on my leg, all of you were gone.”

Sounds plausible.

“How did you find me? I didn’t have your cell phone.”

“No, but someone had it.” He blinks and looks toward the ocean. “The GPS tracker showed it heading down the peninsula toward the harbor. I also received a text telling me to meet you at Yaringa Boat Harbour in front of my father’s fishing boat.”

How convenient …

“Your father’s boat? Doesn’t that mean Vic and Tom were helping you?”

Zach rubs his hand over his matted hair, exposing a partially clotted gash. “Of course not. If they were, would they have bashed me on the head and tied me up in the galley?”

My heart softens at the sight of his wound and guilt floods over me. Of course, Zach wasn’t behind this, at least not purposely.

Gingerly, I wipe his hair, being careful not to touch the wound since it had been washed clean by the salt water. “I saw blood smeared on the deck. I’m sorry they hurt you.”

His shoulders sag and he seems uncomfortable with me touching him. I let my hand drop.

He stares at the sand. “If I had both legs, they would never have carried you off. I could have taken them. Instead, it took me the entire boat ride to work Dex’s knife out of the sheath and wiggle it in position to cut my bonds.”

I turn Zach’s hands palm-up. His wrists are chafed and nicked in places. Tears well in my eyes. “You saved my life.”

“I almost lost you. I saw you struggle and go under a few times …” His Adam’s apple bobbles, and he peers at me with the cutest little boy pout.

I’d have to be a cold-hearted witch to stay angry at him, so I throw my arms around his neck and plant a kiss on his scratchy cheek. “I haven’t even thanked you. You’re my hero. Always.”

One side of his face lifts as he begrudges me a smile. “I still have the universe to save … or at least figure out how to get us off this island.”

I want to forgive him of everything, but Vic and Tom used his father’s boat. There are still too many questions, and more urgently, I need to get Zach on his feet so we can find my brothers.

I pull him from the ground. “Let’s get off the beach before the tide comes in.”

“I can stand on my own.”

“I know you can.” I tug him closer so he has to lean on me. “Let’s see if we can find a stick up there, or maybe there’s something useful in the shed. Anyone live here?”

“Nope,” he says. “Unless you count the goats.” He nods toward a hillock where two kids frolic around their grazing mother.

“Are they tame?”

“Dunno.” He grins. “Why don’t you try and catch one?”

Zach is so good-natured, he almost makes me forget my troubles. He points to the wildlife and landmarks along the way, easing the tension between us. It takes time to navigate the steep trail with him using me as a crutch, but the terrain finally levels into a grassy meadow.

Suddenly, a giant grey bird marches toward us, flapping his wings and hissing like a dinosaur.

I jump and almost topple Zach. “What’s that?”

“Cape Barren geese. They’re mean buggers.” Zach chuckles.

The goose lowers his neck and charges. “Honk, honk, hiss.”

“Stand your ground.” Zach flaps his arms and hollers at the top his lungs, sticking out his nose as if he’s about to charge. I wish I had a camera to record this. He looks so silly, but apparently it works.

The goose stops mid-charge, then lifts his head and acts as if he didn’t see us. It’s quite pretty, with a black-tipped yellow beak, red socks and black webbed feet.

“Have they accepted us?” I ask, when the rest of the geese ignore us.

“Not really. He’s saving face and doesn’t want us to think he’s afraid, but he knows I’m not backing down. Remember, if they attack, don’t run or they’ll bite your bum.” Zach pinches me and grins mischievously.

His mood seems to have lightened, so I pinch his tight behind. He waves his arm and honks, sticking his nose close to mine, and I surprise him with a playful peck on the lips.

This time, his smile lingers. I can feel his confidence increase with each step we take toward the spindly trees. Zach hangs on a dead tree and cracks off a dried branch. He twirls it around and stabs it in the ground. It’s more like a walking stick than a crutch, but he’s happier and uses it to lope ahead of me to the shed.

My heart races, and I wonder if Ben and Dex are inside. The shed is surrounded by soft grass and consists of a patchwork of corrugated tin with plastic greenhouse panels for the roof. A rusted water tank leans against its side and a pebbled path leads to a screen door.

Zach opens the weathered screen. I step in, squinting as my eyes adjust to the low lighting. “Dex? Ben?”

The interior is littered with leftover supplies: empty water jugs, a torn blue tarp, reels of fishing line, a topless ice chest and an old camp cot.

“Why would they be here?” Zach asks.

“Tom and Vic say they’re tied up on this island and will die unless I find them.”

“What did they do that for?”

“I don’t know, Zach. Their boss, most likely your father, had some demands.”

“You think my father’s behind this?” He wipes a hand through his hair and points to the camp cot. “Sit. Tell me what this is really about.”

I’m bone weary so I sink onto the cot without complaint.

Zach lowers himself to the ground in front of me. “Why would anyone want to kidnap Ben and Dex?”

A cloud lowers over me. Charade over. I’m going to have to level with him if I want his help. “They’re my brothers.”

Zach’s eyes pop wide. “Seriously? But that means—”

“My father’s Anson Ping.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is barely above a harsh whisper.

“Tell you?” My lips tremble. “You’d turn him in.”

“He killed my mother. He should face justice.”

My heart thunders and my stomach is sick. I put my head down, elbows resting on my knees. “This is why we can’t be together.”

“We’re not talking about us.” He grips my shoulder, his voice firm. “Besides, your father is not you.”

“But you must hate him.” I avoid his gaze, all too aware of his firm fingers tightening with anger.
I bet you hate me too.

“How do you expect me to feel?”

Looks like Zach got what he wanted. I brush his hands off and stand. “I still have to find my brothers.”

“I’ll go with you.” He grabs his stick and props himself up. “I know this island well.”

“What do you care?”

“I’m still your friend.”

“How can we be friends? You’ll never forget who murdered your mother.”

“No, but I don’t blame you or your brothers.” He takes my hand. “Can’t you give me a chance to show you?”

My lips tremble. He says the exact words I yearn to hear, but I can’t believe he means it. He may think he can put it behind him, that he won’t blame me, but what’s to say he won’t resent me?

“How can you turn against your mother’s memory to help us? Don’t you care about revenge and family honor?”

“I care more about you.” Zach brings me closer, looking like he’s about to kiss me.

And I you.

I let the moment pass and lower my face, my heart twisting into a knot of misery. I don’t have Zach’s optimism that the murder won’t affect our relationship. It’s too big to get over, and even if he feels this way now, what about next year, or the year after?

He clears his throat. “If your brothers are here, we should be able to find them. There’s nothing on this piece of rock except for this hut, the beach and two caves on the other side. I used to camp here when a couple of buddies and I kayaked across the strait.”

“Thanks, Zach.” I wipe my hair from my face. “I’m glad you’re helping me.”

We leave the shed behind. The path inland takes us up a granite cliff. We struggle step by plodding step over the ridge to the highest point on the island. All around us, the sea sparkles like a blue-green jewel. In the faint distance lies another island, but there are no signs of any boats nearby.

Zach points to a wide-mouthed bay. “If anyone dropped your brothers off, it’d be on this side where they can anchor. This is also where the kayakers land. If we’re lucky, someone will come by.”

“Hope so. How are you holding up?” It has to be hard for him to hop each step. If my muscles are screaming sore, imagine his solo foot and ankle bearing all the stress.

He tilts his chin and winks. “Doing okay. Let’s go.”

Another thing I like about him—he never whines.

Descending the hill proves more difficult. I walk in front to steady him, letting him use me and the stick to break his downward momentum. It’s slow going because I have to test each step carefully.

A slithering rustle in the brush causes me to slip. Zach catches himself with the stick and bends to pull me up.

“Are there snakes here?” I ask, my heart thumping in my throat.

“Probably.” Zach prods the bushes with his stick.

“Poisonous?”

“Yes. Black tiger snakes. But they usually eat birds and small reptiles. Nothing to worry about.” He flashes me that million-dollar smile of his.

Great, that’s so reassuring.

We find the first cave, but it’s barely a hollow in the granite wall. And there’s obviously no sign of anyone, not even footprints.

I creep under the shade to rest. My clothes have dried stiff, and bits of salt and sand cling to the threads, as well as to the tiny hairs on my arm.

“Is there any water around here?” My tongue feels like cotton, and my head throbs a steady beat.

Zach eases himself down on the cool floor next to me. “There’s a cistern that collects rainwater near the other cave closer to the beach. Ready to go?”

I’m still catching my breath, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “I can’t decide if I’m more thirsty or more tired.”

“If I could, I’d walk down there and get you the water.” His breath is warm on my ear.

“No need to prove anything.” I wrap my arms around his waist. “You’re better than any other man on this planet.”

“Doesn’t help us now. Let’s get going.” He groans as he stands and avoids my gaze. Did I say something to upset him? I feel bad because whenever I try to boost his ego, it backfires.

Once we’re outside the cave, the temperature rises and I unzip the windbreaker, not caring if Zach sees my torn blouse. He’s not looking my direction anyway. We hike through a flatter track between reedy bushes and emerge beside a rock formation.

“Here’s the second cave,” Zach announces.

I step in and let my eyes adjust to the dimness. The floor is solid and relatively free of sand. People have left things behind: a pair of broken sunglasses, plastic bags and a razor.

“Hello, anyone here?” My voice echoes, but no one replies.

“Doesn’t look like they’ve been here, either,” Zach says from the entrance. “No footprints or signs of recent movement. What exactly happens after you find your brothers?”

I lean against the rock wall. “I untie them and make sure they don’t die of thirst. Vic and Tom said your father or whoever their boss is will free two of my father’s children when he turns himself in. The third one, likely me, will be released after he signs his vineyard over to your family.”