Wolf Island (27 page)

Slowly,
with her heart trying to climb out of her chest, Abby shifted into the darkest
corner of the bathroom, right beside the door. The footsteps moved closer, the sound
echoing off the walls. She swallowed hard and tried to control her breathing.
The steps moved even closer, then halted right outside the bathroom door. Abby
cut her gaze to the left and peered through the crack in the door.

Victor’s
sweaty face grinned back at her.

·
        
* * * *

As
soon as Devlin reached the stage, he looked toward the face-painting booth.
Abby was gone. Panic like he’d never experienced before welled up inside him.
Where the hell was she?

Frantic,
he scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Abby’s harlequin cap,
expecting to see the sway of her hips, the curve of her fanny in the
form-fitting costume. Maybe she’d decided to join the crowd that spread out
before him. But surely she would have had one of the cops escort her. He wished
with every breath that he was looking into her blue eyes once more. But all he
saw was a swirl of color, and all he heard a mixture of sounds.

Oblivious
now to the people awaiting his speech, Devlin leaped from the stage and
sprinted toward the tree line, desperate for the sight of her. When he reached
the face-painting booth, a surge of icy fear froze the blood in his veins. He
stopped and stared at one of Jake’s men lying unconscious on the ground. Oh,
Jesus, let him be alive. Quickly, Devlin knelt and laid two fingers on the side
of the man’s neck. Relief rushed through him. The man’s pulse thumped against
his fingertips. He was still alive. Thank God. But what about Abby?

Devlin
rose quickly and bumped into Otis. “Otis, have you seen Abby?”

A
worried frown creased Otis’s face. “No. I thought she was with you. What’s
wrong? Why did you run off the stage?”

Devlin
laid a hand on Otis’s shoulder. “One of Jake’s men has been hurt -- I
suspect by Victor -- and Abby’s missing. Have you seen Jake?”

“Right
behind you.”

Devlin
wheeled around. The sheriff stood behind him, dressed as Superman. “Abby’s
gone.”

A
frown creased Jake’s brow. “Damn it. I thought something was wrong when one of
my deputies didn’t check in.”

Devlin
tried to control the shudder of terror that sliced through him. He hoped to God
Abby was okay. “Your deputy’s lying on the ground, unconscious, behind the
face-painting booth.”

Jake
snatched the radio hanging from his Superman belt. He spoke rapidly into the
radio’s mic, relaying the information about the downed man and ordering the
other deputies and officers to begin a search for Abby.

Devlin
gripped Jake’s shoulders as fear for Abby’s life made him dizzy. “I’ve got to
find her. I’m scared, Jake.”

“Go
check the road leading to the castle. We’ll find her. I promise.”

Jake
disappeared into the crowd.

Devlin
turned back to Otis. “Come with me.”

Devlin
and Otis raced toward the parking lot and his truck. Something colorful dangled
from the truck’s antenna.

Abby’s
cap.

A
scalding breath of panic heaved from Devlin’s lungs. He snatched the cap from
its perch, climbed into the truck, and switched on the overhead light. The
words scrawled in black across the fabric jumped at him.
Your bitch whore is
on the boat. Come alone or I’ll cut her to pieces.

A
rush of fear buzzed through Devlin’s head.

Otis
stepped up to the open door and looked at the cap in Devlin’s hand. “You’ll be
walking into a trap. You know Victor’s got something real bad planned.”

Devlin
crushed the cap in his hand.

Sweet
Jesus. Victor had Abby.

Chapter Sixteen

Dammit,
he should have stayed with her, and to hell with Jake’s crazy plan. He should
have stuck like a burr to her side whether she wanted him there or not.

He
scooted across the seat and pulled a 9mm from the glove box, checked the clip,
and shoved it into one of the pockets of his Musketeer coat. Into the other, he
stuffed a flashlight.

Devlin
climbed from the truck and slammed the door. “Otis, go find the sheriff and
tell him that Victor’s holding Abby on my boat.”

“I’m
coming with you. He’ll never know I’m there.”

Devlin
gripped Otis by the shoulders. The older man’s thin bones dug into his hand.
Otis was his oldest and dearest friend. He had to save Abby without anyone else
he cared about getting hurt. “If he sees you, he’ll kill her.” He had to make
him understand. “You know it and I know it. I can’t take that chance.”

Without
another word, Devlin turned and ran toward the road leading to his private
dock. A crack of thunder drowned out any further protests from Otis. Clouds
shrouded the moon in a ragged veil of gray, but even in the dim light, Devlin
saw his boat, the
Sea Ray
, sleek and white, bobbing in its slip.

Lightning
popped, penetrating the sky with glowing white fingers. In its wake, a roll of
thunder barreled through the air, and the sound vibrated through Devlin’s body
like a death knell.

Oh, God, please let Abby be alive.

As
he approached the dock, all of his senses peaked like finely tuned radar.
Sensation and sound magnified -- the slap of wind against his face, the
distant cawing of a bird, the hard grip of fear squeezing his chest. Rain
streaked down, needling his skin and soaking his hair, but he hardly noticed
it.

Abby.

I have to save her. I have to. Then my existence will be
justified.

Devlin
tucked his hand into the pocket that held the gun. He gripped the pistol in his
hand and curved his index finger next to the trigger.

He’d
never thought he would have to hunt down his own father.

Darkness
gaped from the windows in the boat, like unseeing eyes. Dev flicked his gaze up
to the canopy-covered bridge. Too damn dark to see if anyone stood at the
controls.

Had
Victor hurt or killed her? The thought of finding Abby with so much as one
scratch on her body filled him with a current of anger that made him dizzy.

Please, God, don’t let me be too late.

Devlin
stepped onto the dock, slick with water, and walked slowly toward the boat’s
stern. He heard nothing but the steady hammer of rain and the shrill whistle of
wind.

Water
swam over the
Sea Ray
’s surface, filling the scuppers and draining the
rain overboard into the restless ocean. Gripping the metal railing, Devlin
swung a leg over the gunwale and climbed onto the boat.

“Welcome
aboard.” The raspy male voice echoed strangely through the curtain of rain.

Devlin
pulled the flashlight from his pocket and clicked it on. He swept the beam from
bow to stern and back again. “Where’s Abby?” Fear chilled his blood as he
waited for Victor’s answer.

Bump.
Scrape. A moan.

“Right
here.” Victor cackled, an eerie sound layered with madness.

He
stepped into the cockpit, which filled with a bright puddle of light cast by
the flashlight’s beam. The light illuminated the slippers covering Abby’s feet.
Devlin moved the light up her legs to her torso.

Victor
clutched Abby like a shield in front of him; his other hand held a knife just
under her left breast. The silver blade glinted in the half-light. Rain sluiced
over her terror-filled face.

A
jagged tear marred the front of her costume. Ice swam through Devlin’s blood.
He clenched his jaw.
Oh, sweet God, had he raped her?

I’ll kill him.

I’ll kill him now.

He
very nearly jerked the pistol from his pocket before good sense kicked in. If
he fired, he might hit Abby.

Focus.
He had to focus, or Abby was dead.

Her
eyes held a mixture of fear and hope.

I’m going to help you, Abby, if it’s the last thing I ever do. I
promise.

A
bruise marred her face, and a trickle of blood oozed from the tape over her
mouth. Fury spewed inside him. For that alone, Victor would pay dearly. “I’m
going to kill you.” Devlin growled the words at Victor.

“Not
until you watch me have her in front of your eyes.”

The
truth burst inside him.

No
way in hell was he anything like this monster. Randall Morgan was his father.
Plain and simple.

His
grandfather was the man who had raised him, had loved him, encouraged him, and
shown him the difference between right and wrong. Why couldn’t he see that
before?

Thunder
crashed overhead like hammers pounding on metal. He had to get Victor away from
Abby. But how? “Let her go. Have it out with me. I’m the one you want,” Devlin
shouted above the thunder and rain.

“Soon.”
Victor’s calculated sneer unnerved him. With Abby still gripped tightly in his
arms, Victor shifted to the side and made a motion with his head. There was a
set of molded access steps leading from the cockpit to the bridge and the
boat’s controls.

“Untie
the boat, then go up to the bridge. I’ll be right behind you. If you try anything,
I’ll skewer your little bitch’s heart.” His voice rang with insanity; his eyes
were glazed with madness.

Devlin
swallowed and looked from Victor to Abby, weighing his options. Where the hell
was Jake?

“Move!”
Victor yelled at them both.

Devlin
walked past them, his gaze fixed on Abby’s face, trying to silently tell her
that everything would be okay.

It
had to be.

When
he reached the bridge, Victor shoved him forward. Hard. He slammed into the
boat’s steering wheel.

“Crank
her up and head out to sea.”

Devlin
jerked his head around and looked toward the empty dock. If they went to sea,
the authorities might not be able to find them in time. Devlin looked back at
Victor holding the knife just inches from Abby’s heart. What choice did he
have?

In
a moment, the engine roared smoothly to life under his feet. He shoved the
control into reverse, backed the
Sea Ray
from the slip, and pointed the
bow toward the open ocean. Swaths of rain lashed the canopy over the bridge.
The bow lifted into the air before hitting the crest of waves with a hard slap.
With each toss of the churning sea, Devlin’s teeth jarred together in his head.
He turned and glared at Victor. “You’re a disgusting coward,” he said loudly.

Victor’s
lips curled in a snarl. “Shut up, or I’ll gut your whore right now.”

Devlin
moved a little to the left. “Only a coward would take a woman against her will.
You said you wanted me. Let’s finish this, here and now.”

Just
a little closer to the left was all he needed. Dev kept his gaze pinned on the
knife Victor held to Abby’s chest as he stepped slowly toward the outer
bulkhead of the bridge. He cut his glance quickly down toward the floor and saw
the fire extinguisher hanging in its support. He needed a distraction.

Devlin
snapped his hand out and yanked the steering wheel in a sharp turn to
port -- opposite the direction in which Victor was pointing his knife. As
Devlin had hoped, the sudden movement dislodged Victor’s arms from around Abby,
and he slammed into the radar panel. Devlin made a dive for the extinguisher.
He snatched the red cylinder from the wall, pulled out the safety pin, aimed,
and fired. White chemical powder squirted from the nozzle and covered Victor’s
face.

A
scream like a wounded animal’s emanated from Victor’s throat. With his arms
held out in front of him, his fingers curled like thick claws, he stalked
toward Devlin. Victor’s big hands grabbed the extinguisher and shoved it toward
Devlin’s head. Devlin’s arm and back muscles strained with effort as he worked
to hold him off.

Suddenly,
Abby rammed her body into Victor’s, but it barely fazed him. He shook her off
like a minor irritation. Abby fell to the floor with a thud. Devlin looked at
Abby sprawled on the floor with a red welt forming on her jaw. “Abby! Are you
okay?” With her mouth still taped and her hands tied, all she could do was nod.
Victor’s fist connected with his jaw. Jagged pain burned through his eyeballs
and seared the back of his head.

Devlin
plowed his fist into Victor’s face. The blow only seemed to anger the madman
more. Devlin watched as the hot current of insanity blazed in Victor’s eyes.

Abby
tried to stand as the boat swayed roughly beneath them. Devlin stumbled toward
Victor and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

Victor
barreled into Dev, knocking him into the steering column. Pain radiated through
his ribcage. Using the column for support, Dev lifted his legs and rammed his
feet against Victor’s chest, dead center. Victor flew backward and toppled down
the stairs.

In
two strides, Devlin rushed over to Abby and held her tightly to his chest for a
moment. He yanked the tape from her mouth, and with the knife that Victor had
dropped, he cut the ropes binding her wrists. “Get on the radio and call for
help. Stay here.” He turned and headed for the stairs. Abby was safe for now,
and he knew what he had to do. In the background he heard Abby cut the engine
and call in a mayday to whoever was listening.