The Island Page 28

  Amber’s father was lying on the floor of the men’s locker room, after being struck by someone, for some reason.

  Keith started ripping off his dinner jacket as he raced down the pier.

  “NO! DON’T LISTEN TO HIM. Get out of here,” Beth insisted. She was terrified but trying desperately not to sound it. Her mind was racing. She knew that if she didn’t somehow force Amber to escape, they would both be prisoners and probably end up murdered.

  “She’s already listening to me, honey,” Brad said.

  It was true. Amber was already on the boat.

  At that moment Sandy came out of the cabin. She had stripped down to the white shirt worn by the caterers beneath their tux jackets. Tonight, she was wearing a disheveled red wig, and she’d designed a perfect smattering of freckles over her nose. She wore big, thick-rimmed glasses.

  “Brad, what—oh!” she began.

  “Get on the boat,” Brad told Beth.

  “Amber, get off the boat!” she cried.

  There were tears in her niece’s eyes then. “Aunt Beth, he’ll kill you.”

  “Amber, he’ll kill us both!”

  “No,” Sandy protested suddenly. “Get on the boat. Please, just get on the boat. We’ve got to get out of here.” She turned pleading eyes on Brad. “Brad, don’t hurt her. Get on the boat, just get on the boat. Please, nothing will happen to either of you if you’ll just get on the boat. Brad?” she implored.

  “What the hell do you want me to do? They’ll both go screaming for help. We’ve got to get out of here now—with them aboard,” Brad replied roughly. “Get the lines, kid,” he said, addressing Amber. “I’ve seen your dad’s boat—I’m sure you know what you’re doing. I don’t want to hurt your aunt—Sandy there likes her a whole lot. But this is a pretty desperate situation you’ve caused for us. Tell your aunt to get her pretty rump on the boat so I don’t have to kill her, and help us get out of here!”

  Beth wasn’t even sure that Brad cut her on purpose, but the knife moved against her throat, and she choked out a small sound of pain.

  Amber jumped like a rabbit and did as she’d been told. Sandy stepped up to the rail as Brad prodded Beth forward, forcing her to either step or fall onto the deck.

  Once they were all on board, he grabbed Beth by the hair, dragging her down to the small cabin. “If you hurt Amber in any way, I swear I’ll kill you,” she said, her voice shaking despite the bravado of the words. She didn’t consider herself a particularly brave person, but she had discovered a deep-seated maternal instinct. She would fight to her last breath for her niece.

  KEITH GOT CLOSE ENOUGH to see the knife at Beth’s throat before the boat headed out. He swore, weighing his options. If cornered, they might kill one of their hostages, as a warning to back off.

  He reached for his cell phone; it was gone. He’d lost it in the scuffle out front. Swearing silently beneath his breath, he started to move again, kicking off his shoes as he ran to the end of the pier, then dived into the water. He surfaced, then paused briefly to reconnoiter.

  The boat was just moving within the speed limit of the law and following good boating etiquette. They were obviously trying not to be noticed. That was his first piece of luck. He swam hard.

  His second piece of luck came when he realized that they’d been in a hurry and careless of the lines. One was trailing in the water. He caught hold of it just as the boat began to increase its speed. He strained to pull himself up closer, fighting to clear the motor. As the boat began to scud across the water, he held on for dear life.

  “TIE HER UP!” Brad shouted to Sandy.

  “You are not going to—” Beth began. She stopped. The knife again. She swallowed hard. “I’ll do anything if you’ll just let her go,” she said quietly.

  “Sandy, quit screwing around. Tie the kid up,” Brad insisted.

  “No!” Amber shrieked.

  “Shut up, kid, or I will kill your aunt.”

  Beth couldn’t see what was happening, but she was surprised when the knife didn’t bite into her flesh but instead eased away from her. “Stop,” Brad hissed to her. “I don’t want to hurt you or the kid.”

  “What makes us any different?” she asked.

  “We haven’t killed anyone,” he said harshly. “Yet.”

  He sounded honest. Oddly, disturbingly honest. She held still. His hold eased again.

  She heard Amber whimpering, but she didn’t dare turn to look. “I swear, let her go and I’ll help you do anything.”

  Sandy came into the cabin. “Is the kid tied up?” Brad demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, now this one.”

  “Brad, this is insane. Why did we take them?”

  “Are you nuts? They’d have had the cops after us in two minutes. They know, Sandy. That bastard was a liar.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Beth said. It was a lie—and yet, paradoxically, also the truth.

  “You didn’t get the envelope?” Sandy demanded.

  “Hell, yes, I got the envelope. And if we’re caught, so help me God, that bastard Eduardo is going down, too. He said the money would pass from hand to hand. In the end, some fool stuffed it into the pocket of the kid’s father’s jacket by accident. Can you believe that? I had to cream him to get it and get out. You know what’s in the envelope?” he demanded of Sandy. “Do you want to know? Go ahead, look inside.”

  Beth wasn’t tied up, and Brad was paying attention to Sandy. Beth tried to figure out how she could get the knife.

  “Look in the envelope!” Brad raged.

  Sandy did, then cried out in dismay, staring at Brad in disbelief.

  He wasn’t looking at Beth. She twisted, biting his arm as hard as she could. He dropped the knife with a loud scream. She shoved a knee into his groin, and he screamed again, doubling over in pain. Beth turned to run to Amber.

  But Sandy was already there, and she had grabbed a frying pan. It cracked against Beth’s skull, and she went down.

  LEE HAD JUST BROUGHT the tender back to their vessel when he saw one of the little boats from the yacht club leaving, something trailing in the water behind it. He turned and hurried down to the cabin. “Matt? Matt, you back yet?”

  He paused, stunned. Matt was back. But he wasn’t alone. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded of their visitor.

  WITH TREMENDOUS EFFORT, Keith made it over the side. Amber’s eyes were wide as she watched him appear. Emerging from the surf and the darkness, he must have been a frightening sight. She looked as if she was about to scream, but he brought his finger to his lips to silence her and hurried to her side. She was tied up, her Summer Sizzler finery in disarray.

  He worked hurriedly at the ropes Sandy had tied around her wrists and ankles. “Where are they?” he mouthed.

  “In the cabin.”

  Keith judged the distance to the shore. It was becoming greater every minute. “Can you swim that?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “But Aunt Beth—”

  “I’m here, and we’ll have a better chance of saving ourselves without worrying about you. There’s a life jacket. Wear it. You’re not afraid? You’ve got to get to shore and get help. From Jake, from the real cops, no one else, okay? Find Jake and tell him to get a hold of Mike. He’ll know what you mean. They’ll get everything on the water out after these guys. You can make it? You’re sure? We’re a half a mile out in night waters.”

  “I can make it,” Amber swore tearfully.

  “Then get out of here. Now.”

  He grabbed one of the life jackets and handed it to Amber. Looking down into the cabin he saw no movement.

  That worried him.

  “Go!” he told Amber.

  She turned back once, her eyes tearing up.

  “Honey, go. Get help.”

  She nodded. Apparently aware of the need for quiet, she slipped into the water. He afforded himself a split second to curse the fact that he’d sent a kid into the water at night, a half mile from shore
. But if anyone could do it, it was Amber Anderson, he was certain. He turned, hunched down.

  Beth was in the cabin.

  And the cabin was far too quiet.

  BETH AWOKE FEELING A THUDDING pain in her temple.

  Memory flashed back. She remembered Sandy wielding the frying pan. She laughed inwardly at the irony.

  She had eluded a man with a big knife, then been bested by a woman with a frying pan. She opened her eyes slowly, aware that she was still at sea and moving quickly. She was on a bunk.

  She tried to move. Her hands were tied. She began working at the ropes with her teeth, then froze when she heard a racket topside.

  “What the hell is that?” she heard Brad cry out.

  “The kid?” Sandy suggested.

  “You stay here and mind the helm. I’ll go see,” Brad said.

  Then there was nothing. Beth remained dead still, listening in terror.

  Suddenly there was a thump.

  A moment later Sandy came rushing into the cabin where Beth lay. She reached into a drawer, drawing out a gun. Smith & Wesson .38—yes, the same gun Ben kept. The woman sidled over to the bunk and knelt down beside Beth, putting the muzzle against Beth’s temple.

  Beth swallowed, feeling the cold bite of the metal, imagining the bullet ripping through her head.

  Amber? What had happened on deck? What about Amber?

  After a while Sandy grew restless, tired of waiting. She stepped to the small doorway to the cabin, ducking. “Brad?”

  Nothing. Sandy stepped out, but a second later she was backing into the cabin again. Beyond her, Beth could see that someone else was aboard the boat.

  Her eyes widened. Keith. Soaked and dragging Brad by the collar.

  “Brad!” Sandy cried out.

  “I don’t want to kill him,” Keith said. “So you’ll give me the gun, Sandy, and then you’ll turn this boat around.”

  Again the gun was pressed to Beth’s temple. She saw Keith’s lips tighten, his flesh take on a paler hue. But he held his ground. “Trust me. You shoot her, I’ll snap his neck. I can do it, and I’m pretty sure you know it.”

  “I can shoot you and then her!” Sandy said, turning the gun on Keith.

  “Do you really have the nerve?” he asked her. “And you know,” he said, sparing a lightning glance at Beth, “Amber is on her way home.”

  “She’ll drown.”

  “I don’t think so. She’s a strong swimmer. And she has a life vest.”

  Beth’s heart took flight. Amber would make it. She was a survivor. She would get help. Adrenaline burst through her. She gritted her teeth and wrenched at the ties binding her wrists. She felt a surge of sheer joy and power as her arm swung free, catching Sandy right across the jaw. The other woman gasped.

  And the gun went off.

  “YOU ARE GOING TO EXPLAIN this, aren’t you?” Lee demanded. They were already in pursuit of the smaller boat, but they were keeping their distance. Lee didn’t want to alert them to the fact that they were being followed.

  “Honestly, we were just talking,” Amanda said, giving Lee her sweetest smile.

  Matt was up, restless. “There’s got to be more we can do,” he murmured.

  “You want to take a chance on spooking them, so they kill Keith and whoever else they’ve got?” Lee demanded hotly.

  Matt shook his head.

  Lee looked at Amanda. “I’m really sorry, but you’re here for the duration.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, blue eyes excited. “Where do you think we’re heading?”

  Matt spun around, looked at Lee. “I think I know where we’re going,” he said. “The island.”

  Lee glanced at their headings. “Seems like a damn good guess to me,” he said.

  THE BULLET RICOCHETED WILDLY, hitting the brass lamp, a metal mirror backing and a bedside-lamp mounting, rather than thudding into the wood.

  Then Keith let out an oath and, one hand to his temple, sank to the floor.

  For a moment both Sandy and Beth were dead silent. The gun had fallen to the floor, forgotten.

  “Oh, God!” Sandy cried out, rising.

  To Beth’s amazement, she raced over to Keith. Brad remained groaning on the floor while Sandy grabbed a towel, dabbing at Keith’s head. She stared at Beth. “You might have killed him!”

  Beth sprang to her feet, her heart in her throat. She pushed Sandy aside, falling to her knees beside Keith. He wasn’t dead; he was breathing. His heart was beating. The blood…

  Sandy dabbed at the wound. “Give that to me,” Beth said. Taking the towel, she applied pressure to Keith’s temple. She sensed movement around her, but she paid no attention, determined to stop the flow of blood.

  Keith’s eyes opened. One green contact was still in; the other had been lost somewhere. He stared blankly at her, dazed, and groaned. “What the hell happened?” he demanded. Relief filled Beth. At least he was still alive. His eyes closed. “Oh, yes. I remember. Bullet…out of nowhere.”

  “Sandy, can I have some water?” Beth asked.

  A wet towel was stuffed into her hand. She washed the blood away and was relieved to see that he only had a surface wound. She looked around. The bullet had come to rest in the wood of the door frame.

  “Can you sit up?” she asked.

  Groaning again, he did so. Then he looked up. Beth did the same, then gasped softly, backing up against the wall. Brad was back on his feet, and he had retrieved the gun she had so stupidly forgotten.

  “Brad…” Sandy said anxiously.

  It was all…out of focus, Beth determined. In her struggle to help, she had nearly killed Keith. Sandy, who’d been acting like a cold-blooded killer, had been terrified that Beth might have killed the man she’d been threatening just seconds before. And Brad…

  Brad looked really angry.

  “Brad,” Sandy said.

  “What?” he snapped. “She bit a hole in my arm and nearly broke my Mr. Jolly. This asshole gave me a black eye and a knot on the head. And you want me to be nice?”

  “They think we’re going to kill them,” Sandy said, fighting on their side, it seemed to Beth.

  “I’d like to!” Brad muttered.

  Keith was staring at them, a deep frown furrowing his features. A trickle of blood ran down his face. “What do you intend to do with us?” he demanded.

  “Just hold you—until we get our money,” Sandy said.

  “Will you kill us then, the way you did the others?” Beth demanded.

  Brad looked furious. “We didn’t kill anyone! We take a few boats. We get them down to South America. And we get paid. That’s all.”

  “You stole the Monocos’ boat. And neither Ted nor Molly has been seen since.”

  Sandy was impatient. “They weren’t anywhere near the boat. Brad and I went aboard, and they weren’t even there. We took the boat, yes. We didn’t kill them.”

  Keith studied her. “Where’s your money?”

  “Don’t tell him,” Brad snapped.

  “What difference does it make? They’re going to know anyway.” She shook her head. “That bastard Eduardo kept telling us we could get it in Miami. But he’s paranoid that he’ll be seen. Tonight it was supposed to be in an envelope. And do you know what he sent us? Again? A damn note saying the money is in the clearing on the island. He’s such an asshole.”

  “So that’s what you were looking for,” Beth whispered.

  Keith, at her side, was silent, still studying the pair.

  “Please, quit fighting. When we’ve got the money, we’re leaving, period. And we’ll let you go,” Sandy pleaded.

  “Tie them up, Sandy. And do a better job this time, please,” Brad said wearily.

  He turned the gun on Beth, smiling, but he addressed his words to Keith. “Let Sandy tie you up good and tight. Or else I won’t kill Miss Anderson, I’ll just see that she has a few shattered bones. How would that be?”

  Beth winced.

  “Get up,” Brad told Keith. “Ha
nds behind your back.”

  Keith obliged. Sandy shoved him toward the bunk. “Get in.” She giggled. “It’s actually kind of sweet. You can have your girlfriend just as soon as she’s tied up, too.”

  A few minutes later, both securely tied—their bonds approved by Brad—they lay on the bunk, side by side, alone in the dark, while the little boat shot through the water.

  For a moment they were silent. Then Beth exhaled. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey…you were trying to save both our lives,” he said.

  “But…in a way, I shot you.”

  “Yes, you did,” he mused. “So much for my attempt to rescue the woman I’m falling in love with.”

  She was silent. “What constitutes love in your book?” she whispered.

  “Wanting to spend my life with you, every waking moment, you know, that kind of thing. The bullet-in-the-head thing…well, I’d just as soon not have that happen too often.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes suddenly. They might be about to die. She had to know.

  “What about your work?”

  “I like my work. Usually it involves saving lives,” he said a little bitterly.

  “But you were willing to do almost anything in this current…search.”

  She could sense him slowly smiling in the darkness. “Amanda?” he said. He turned to her. She felt the warmth of his whisper against her face. “I never slept with her. I wouldn’t have slept with her. I spent time with her, talked to her—she and her family were on the island.”

  She inhaled. “If we survive…”

  “You’re going to owe me for this one.”

  “Do you think…could they be telling the truth? That they didn’t kill anyone?”

  “Let’s hope so,” Keith said softly. “Turn around.”

  She did so and felt him edging down her back. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Sorry, nothing erotic. I’m pretty good with my teeth, so I’m working on the knots.”

  She had no idea how far he had gotten when, what seemed like an eternity later, she felt the boat begin to slow.

  “We must be at the island!” she told him.