Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (55 page)

“He didn't drown.” She kept her tone low and soothing, even though frustration was now melding with the fear. “He was already dead when I got there.”

Sally suddenly stopped walking and reached into her purse. Meagan's heart leaped into her throat. But the woman didn't pull out the gun. Instead, she handed her a sheet of paper.

“What's this?”

“An autopsy report.”

Meagan dropped her eyes to the page, illuminated by a nearby streetlight. A sick sense of dread filled her gut as her eyes sought out the line “Cause of death.”

No, she didn't want to read it. She wanted to keep believing that he was already gone when she arrived, that there was nothing she could have done.

But she could no longer deny the truth. Because it was right in front of her—cause of death: drowning. Her blood turned to ice, chilling her all the way to her soul.

“No.” The paper slid from her hand and fluttered to the sidewalk. She took several slow steps backward. “He was gone when I got there. His head was so far to the side, there was no way he could have survived.”

Sally scooped up the report and stuffed it back into her purse. “You can't deny what you just read yourself.”

No, she couldn't. While the water slowly climbed up the pilot's face, he'd been alive. Still breathing. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know. But there wasn't time.” If she would have just worked a little more quickly...

“You say there wasn't time, but you took the time to get the senator out. You chose him, because he was someone important.”

Meagan shook her head. “No, I didn't know who he was.”

“I don't believe you. His face is always on the news.”

“Not in California. I had just moved to Florida. I didn't know who he was.”

“It doesn't matter. You let my brother die. Now walk, before I shoot you right here on the sidewalk.”

Meagan dropped her gaze to her feet and willed them to move. She finally managed it, each footstep taking her closer to her death. No words would come. Her mind had shut down.

All the way down Third Street, they didn't encounter another person. Third ended at G, which ran along the Gulf. When they reached it, Sally guided her to turn right.

Toward Darci's parents' house. Where Meagan kept her boat.

“Where are we going?”

“For a ride.”

“In my boat?” Fear had constricted her throat, making her question come out in a high-pitched squeak. “But it's not fixed. The three holes are still there. They need to be patched.”

“I checked the tape. It'll hold up just fine.”

Yes, it probably would. And the motor was fixed. Hunter had seen to that.

He had thought he was doing her a favor.

Instead, he had hastened her demise.

* * *

Hunter looked at his watch for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. He had already asked for the check, paid and gotten his credit card back. And Meagan still hadn't returned to the table. Another woman had gone into the restroom after her, a woman with long blond hair. Probably a tourist, since he hadn't seen her around. Since neither of them had emerged, they had apparently struck up a conversation. And judging from the length of time that had passed, they were working on giving each other their life histories.

He shook his head. Men just didn't do things like that, especially in restrooms.

He swallowed the last of his coffee, which was now lukewarm. Maybe he should knock on the door. He didn't want to rush her. If she'd found some lady that she really connected with, and they wanted to have a lengthy conversation in a restaurant bathroom, more power to 'em. But he was starting to grow concerned.

When he rose from the table, the detective looked his way. Hunter gave him a slight nod. He didn't need him yet but wanted him on alert, just in case.

Hunter stopped at the door marked Ladies and gave a couple raps. Several moments passed in silence. His concern ratcheted up a dozen notches. He knocked again. “Meagan?” Still silence.

When he tried the doorknob, it wouldn't turn. It was locked from the inside. Panic gripped him. He shook it, then banged hard on the door. “Meagan!”

A footfall sounded, and he spun in time to see the detective step up next to him.

“The door's locked.”

Restaurant management probably had a key. Hunter wasn't going to wait that long. He stepped back, then thrust his foot out. The door sprang inward, revealing a broken jamb.

And an empty restroom.

The window was open. The screen, if there had been one, was missing. He crossed the small space to put his head through the opening. The patio area was empty. Meagan was gone. And Sally Ferguson had her.

Hunter's mind fractured, his thoughts scattering in a thousand different directions. He spun to address the detective, but he had stepped into the hall and was already on his phone.

They had been duped. The woman sitting alone in the corner had been Sally. The disguise was a good one. Not only had she hidden her short hair beneath a long blond wig, she had somehow managed to shed a lot of weight since the pictures they had were taken. And she had slipped Meagan out, right under their noses.

Hunter dashed from the building, the detective right behind him, and looked both ways on Second Street. Several people strolled down the sidewalk. None of them were Meagan or Sally. But he wasn't giving up. Someone had to have seen something. He would talk to everyone he could. Sally would be easily remembered with the wig—waist length, thick and beautiful. It was the kind of hair people noticed.

The detective ended the call and pocketed his phone. “We've got backup coming, both Cedar Key and Levy County. We'll all be combing the island for them. And there's going to be a roadblock set up. There's no way she'll be able to slip past us.”

Hunter drew in a calming breath. The detective was right. There was only one route back to the mainland. But what if Sally didn't try to leave? What if she just decided to kill Meagan on Cedar Key? His heart twisted in his chest. No, she couldn't die. They had to find her.

The first several people he talked to were no help. Then a young couple mentioned seeing two women fitting their description moving down Third Street toward the water. Maybe Sally had her vehicle waiting. Maybe she was at that moment preparing to make her way off Cedar Key.

And right into the trap set up by Levy County.

After thanking the couple, he jogged back to his truck. When he reached the end of Third, he glanced left, then right, down G Street. It was deserted. Houses lined the street, but apparently everyone was already inside for the night. The likelihood that anyone had seen anything was slim.

He took a right on G and pulled into a drive. He would knock on some doors and find out what he could. Then he would do what other law enforcement was doing, combing the streets, hoping to stop Sally before it was too late. He stepped from the truck and started up the driveway.

Two doors down was the Tucker place. They would be shocked to learn what had happened. They liked Meagan. Besides seeing her at the store on a regular basis, they were in frequent contact because she kept her boat in their backyard..

Meagan's boat.
Dread washed through him and settled in his gut. Was that where Sally had taken her?

Leaving his truck, he sprinted toward the Tuckers' yard, then slipped between the two houses. A pole light illuminated the dock, along with the small patch of beach where Meagan's boat always sat.

It was gone.

Sally had kidnapped her and taken her away on Meagan's own boat. There was a roadblock set up to catch her if she tried to leave Cedar Key. But Sally had outsmarted them again. She hadn't gone by land. She had gone by water, planning to bypass them all.

He reached for his phone. The Cedar Key Fire rescue boat could be in the water in minutes. So could his own. And Blake's was already there, moored at the marina.

While making the two phone calls, Hunter hurried back to his truck. He would head home and hook up his boat. Then would come an almost hopeless search—finding one small johnboat on dozens of square miles of water.

God, please give us wisdom. Please lead us to her.

Meagan was out there somewhere, frightened and alone with a psychotic killer. And all because she had done a good deed. She had seen someone who needed help, and had jumped right in and saved him.

And now she was in danger of losing her own life.

Realization shot through him, lightning fast and crystal clear. And he knew where Sally had taken her.

What better place to kill her than the exact location where the pilot had lost his life?

* * *

Meagan cruised down the main channel. The sky was awash with stars and an almost-full moon tipped the waves in silver. Its light would make her easier for Hunter and the others to spot. It would also make her easier for Sally to see, should she get the opportunity to try to escape.

She shifted on the seat, trying to relieve the tightness in her back. At this late hour, hers was the only boat in the vicinity. Sally sat in the front facing her, pistol at the ready. She kept glancing over her shoulder, tense and jittery. “Is this as fast as you can go?”

“It's only a four-horse motor.” It wasn't wide-open, but it was close. Meagan was holding back that final bit of power, giving Hunter and the others a few extra minutes to find her. It wouldn't be much, but minutes could count. They could mean the difference between life and death.

As soon as they had boarded the boat, Sally had ordered her to head for Seahorse Key. And it had been all Meagan could do to not run screaming into Darci's parents' house, which would have probably guaranteed them all a quick death.

Maybe Sally just wanted to see where her brother had died before she proceeded with her plans. But that wasn't likely. The most probable scenario was that Seahorse Key was the end of the trip, that Sally planned to kill her there, so the location and manner of death would resemble her brother's as closely as possible.

The terror Meagan had been trying to hold at bay for the past half hour circled through her, fraying the cords of control. She fought to stay calm. She had to keep her head. It was her only chance of surviving. And even then it would take a miracle.

And she wasn't a firm believer in miracles. Or any kind of divine intervention, for that matter. But Hunter was probably praying for her. In fact, she
knew
he was. Maybe God would listen to
him
.

Because He certainly wouldn't listen to
her.
After all, He had ignored the prayers of sweet, honest and generous Darci. Meagan sighed. She didn't stand a chance.

“How much farther?”

“I don't know, maybe another ten minutes.” She pointed to a darker shape on the water a short distance ahead. “That's it there.”

Sally's shoulders lifted, and her back straightened in anticipation. Meagan glanced behind her. There were no approaching bow lights in any direction. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Hunter wouldn't figure it out and come after her. Maybe they were all searching Cedar Key for her, and no one would come.

She backed off the throttle, just slightly. But Sally noticed.

“Hey, keep going. Don't slow down.”

A few minutes later, they approached the eastern curve of Seahorse Key and Meagan eased the boat toward land. “This is it.”

“No, I don't want to go ashore. I want you to take me to where the plane went down. I took a tour, and they said it happened right out there.” She held up an index finger. “I know, because I asked.”

Meagan changed course to head toward open water. Her heart pounded out an erratic rhythm, and her hand grew clammy against the throttle. Finally, she decreased speed until the motor was just idling.

“Is this the place?” Sally leaned forward, excitement rippling through her.

“This is it.” Meagan's voice held a tone of finality.

Sally reached for the life jacket. There was only one. That was all Meagan could afford to replace at the time. If Sally planned to put it on, she would probably have to lay the gun down to fasten it.

Meagan waited in ready alertness. At the first opportunity, she would lunge for the woman, push her overboard and grab the gun. Her plan was risky. In fact, it was downright insane. But it was the only one she had.

But Sally didn't lay down the weapon. Instead, she struggled into the life jacket with one hand, then fastened the clasp, holding it steady with the heel of the hand grasping the gun.

Sally shook her head. “All those other ways I tried to kill you, you just wouldn't die. But this is so much more fitting. I feel as if I should thank you.” Her eyes shone with a wild excitement. “Now get in the water.”

Meagan froze, her thoughts fleeing in a dozen different directions.

No, she had to stay calm. The only weapon she had now was her words. She held up both hands.

“Sally, this isn't necessary. Your brother was a good man. Is this what he would wish? Is this how he would want you to honor the life he lived?”

“I'm avenging his death. He would appreciate that.”

“Are you sure? Did you ever know him to hurt anyone?” She was grasping at straws. She knew nothing about the pilot.

“None of that matters. All that matters is that you let him die.” Sally aimed the gun at her chest. “Now stand up, or I'll shoot you right here in the boat and dump your body overboard.”

The last spark of hope fled and darkness moved in, despair deeper than anything she had ever felt with Edmund. She was going to die. But if she had to choose between a bullet and drowning, she would choose the bullet.

Her thoughts turned heavenward. Was God really up there? Was He aware of what she was going through? Did He even care? Her gaze drifted past Sally. During the time they had idled, the bow had swung around, back toward the channel.

Anticipation surged through her, hope rekindled. Three boats were moving toward them. On the lead vessel, dual spotlights shone from about four or five feet above the water. The other boats were farther back, visible only because the bend of the channel separated them They were nothing but dark shapes on the waves, led by their red port bow lights.