“I can see you perfectly, Jill. I’ll watch you swim to me. Just you. If I spot another car coming with you, if I spot any deputies or the damn sheriff, then I’ll break Vanessa’s throat and throw her body in the water.”
“I’m by myself. You don’t have to worry.”
“That’s what I thought before, too. That I had you all alone, and he was there.”
Jill checked her weapons. She hadn’t counted on a dive in the water. The guns might not even shoot when she came out.
So I need another weapon. Something else I can use.
“Walk on the pier, Jill. Get in the water. Now. You have fifteen minutes to reach me. Fifteen minutes or Vanessa dies.”
She hung up on him. Then she sent a text, fast and frantically. She opened her glove box and grabbed the screwdriver that was inside. Not much of a weapon, but it was one that water wouldn’t destroy. She shoved the screwdriver inside the top of her jeans, hoping to keep it secured in place, and then Jill climbed out of the car. Her steps were quick as she headed out onto the pier. The moon shone down on her, giving Jill plenty of light as she hurried across the wood. She looked out at the water, but didn’t see any lights from boats.
He’s got his lights off because he doesn’t want to be seen. He’s out there, waiting. No cabin by the marsh needed for him this time.
How perfect was a boat for this type of crime? He could take his victims, kill them, dump the bodies. If he weighed them down, they might not be discovered at all.
The victims would just stay missing.
She reached the end of the pier and stared out into the darkness. For just a moment, she remembered a blond boy standing in that spot. Hair a little too long. Eyes so dark and deep.
Hayden. I love you.
She hoped he knew that. She’d never stopped loving him. She didn’t think she could.
Jill exhaled slowly and climbed over the wooden railing of the pier. She sat there a moment, staring at the waves. And then...
She jumped.
* * *
HE DIDN’T PULL into the pier’s parking lot. When Hayden saw Jill turn up ahead of him, he braked his car, killed the engine and left it just off the road. Then he kept to the shadows as he hurried toward the pier. He arrived just as Jill started walking down that long wooden pier. She was looking straight ahead, staring out over the water.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. There was no one else there. Jill couldn’t possibly be meeting the perp...he wasn’t here.
Or maybe, maybe the guy just hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe Jill was supposed to meet the kidnapper. An exchange? Was that about to happen? Jill trading her life for Vanessa’s? He could see her trying to do some move like that. Hell, he and Jill needed to have a serious damn talk. She couldn’t keep risking herself like this.
He trailed behind her, but he never went into the moonlight. He stopped near the old souvenir shop. He could see Jill perfectly as she walked forward, never hesitating. And then...
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out quickly but didn’t look at the text he’d just received because—because Jill had climbed over the railing.
What in the hell was she doing?
Jill? He took a step toward her.
She jumped into the water. Just plunged straight into the waves.
Jill!
Chapter Fifteen
The water was colder than she’d expected. Ice-cold. It chilled her limbs, stole her breath and made every stroke that she took painful. Her wet clothes dragged at her, and Jill had to kick out of her shoes. She’d always been a good swimmer, thank goodness, so even the rough waves didn’t stop her.
The salt water burned her nose, stung her face, had her coughing as the waves lapped at her face, but she could see the boat. Rising out of the darkness, hidden, because it was so far away from the beach. Anchored and waiting for her, it was at least a twenty-seven-foot sport yacht. She couldn’t make out the name on the boat, not in the dark, but she saw the line of letters near the bow. Jill swam to the back of the boat, and her hand curled around the ladder there. She pulled herself up, her breath heaving out of her lungs. She stood there a moment, water pooling down her body and a bright light shone straight into her eyes.
“Hello, Jillian...”
His voice wasn’t rasping any longer. Wasn’t disguised. She knew his voice. She knew him. But then, Jill had known his identity even before she’d jumped into the water. She’d known when he called her on that beach. When he’d said...
It’s your fault she’s dead...you did all this. Destroyed the life I had.
Those had actually been words she’d heard before...from Theodore Anderson.
“Hello, Mr. Anderson,” Jill said. She kept one hand behind her back. She didn’t want him to see that she had the screwdriver tucked into her sleeve. When she’d pulled herself up the ladder, she’d pushed the screwdriver up her sleeve. Easy access. Perfect access.
But first I need to make sure Vanessa is here.
“Jillian West.” He didn’t take the light off her face. “Looking a bit worse for wear. Guess you didn’t get out of that cabin unscathed, after all.”
“No, I didn’t.” But she wasn’t talking about the bomb. She was talking about a time long ago. “I came alone, just like you ordered. Now show me Vanessa.”
“She’s in the cabin below.”
He had a gun in one hand. She could see its bulky shape just beyond the light.
“I need to see her,” Jill snapped.
He laughed. “You aren’t giving orders out here. You’re not the big, bad FBI agent out here. You know what you are?” He took a gliding step toward her.
She shivered in the cold air.
“You’re my victim,” he told her, voice growling. “And tonight, you’re going to die.”
No, I’m not.
* * *
KURT RAN A trembling hand over his face. “My dad used to have an old fishing boat that he’d take out when he was in town. The weekend Christy went missing...the night that Jillian West was taken...he was out fishing. I’d seen him loading up his boat. He even told me where he was planning to go...skimming out in the Gulf, maybe heading toward Destin.”
Samantha just stared at him. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but she didn’t pull it out. Not yet.
“But he came back,” Kurt mumbled as he started to pace amid the chaos of the den. “I saw him that morning. He was in and he was...he was so mad. Drinking. I told you, he changed when he drank. He was yelling. Furious. So I went in my room and I stayed away from him.”
“Your sister didn’t stay away,” Samantha said. “You sent her out to him.”
Kurt stilled. “I asked him about her. Dad said he never saw Christy that day, that he went back down to his boat. See—it was just a mix-up, that’s all. Dad never saw Christy.”
Her gaze slid toward Blake. His jaw was locked, his eyes glinting.
Her phone vibrated again, reminding her that she’d received a text. “Excuse me a moment.” She slipped back a few feet and pulled out her phone. She saw the text—a group text that had been sent to her and Hayden Blake.
A text from Jill.
Come to pier. Perp on boat. Has V.
She took in a long, slow breath. “Kurt, does your father still have that fishing boat?”
“No.” He shook his head, but then he pressed his lips together.
“Kurt?” Blake prompted, voice tight.
“He...he has a sports yacht now. Bought it after he got sober. Said it was his present to himself.” Kurt licked his lips. “The boat’s called Christy.”
“Thank you for your time,” Samantha said. She turned on her heel. Strode for the door.
“That’s it?” Kurt yelled after her. Then she heard the fast rush
of his footsteps. “No way, lady, you said you’d help me find my dad. You said—Ow! Let me the hell go!”
She whipped around to see Blake standing between her and Kurt. Blake had grabbed the other man’s wrist.
“He was lunging for you,” Blake said, shaking his head. “A bad mistake.” He released Kurt, but his body was tense, as if he were ready to attack again.
Kurt’s cheeks had flushed. “I just need to find my dad. Will you help me find him or not?”
Her gaze sharpened on him. “You’re afraid of what he’ll do, aren’t you?”
She saw the answer in the sudden widening of Kurt’s eyes.
“I’m afraid, too,” she told him, her words nearly a whisper. “But don’t worry. We’re going to find him. And the Christy.” She curled her fingers around Blake’s shoulder. “Come on. We need to leave. Now.” They hurried back into the night and she ran for the car. Blake was right on her heels.
“Samantha, slow down!” Blake urged.
They didn’t have time to slow down. She yanked open her door.
He grabbed the door and held tight. “Tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Jillian found the killer.”
“What?”
“I think she’s on the Christy with him—and Vanessa is there. We have to get out there, now.” She shoved his hand off the door. “So come on, let’s get moving! Jillian needs us, and I’m not about to let her down.”
She grabbed his shirt. “Make sure Vanessa is okay.”
He snatched up the radio and called in a quick Mayday, demanding help and, after a fast glance at the screen near the steering wheel, he rattled off their coordinates to the Coast Guard. Then he bent down and kissed her once more.
Hayden. Alive. We’re both safe.
He picked up the gun that had fallen when he and Theodore had gone over the side of the boat. “If you see him—”
Jill’s fingers curled around the gun. “Don’t worry. I won’t hesitate. He’s destroyed enough lives.”