It happens.”
“I know.”
“So do you have a plan for the day?” Ashley asked, carefully changing the subject.
“Besides just being worried sick?” Beth asked her.
Ashley leaned forward. “They will be apprehended. And Amber will be protected. Look, Beth, you have a right to be scared. And angry.”
“I’m angry about having to be scared. I have a lot to do this week.”
“We can get a man into the yacht club, as well.”
“Ashley, you and Jake can’t go calling in every favor you’ve ever earned. You have to let me pay these guys.”
Ashley shrugged. “If you were to allow me just to report what happened—”
“No. I will not risk Amber.”
“But, Beth—”
“Hey, I reported the skull. Lot of good that did.”
“This is different.”
“Maybe they’ll be caught soon,” Beth said. Her cell phone rang, and she excused herself and picked it up.
“Where the hell are you?” Ben’s voice demanded angrily.
“At Ashley’s,” Beth said.
“Why didn’t you tell me? What were you doing, babysitting?” Ben asked.
“Something like that,” Beth lied. She hesitated. Why not tell her brother the truth? Because he had doubted her over the skull? Because he would panic over his daughter? She didn’t like lying to Ben. But for the moment… “So what’s up? What do you need?”
Ben was silent for a minute, still angry. His voice was tight when he said, “Amber is anxious about you—I don’t know why, and neither one of you seems to want to tell me. I have to clean the hull today, so I’m taking her to lunch at the club, and she’s going to swim and sunbathe while I’m working. Will you come?”
She didn’t want to do anything but fume and fret and worry, she realized. But that was a stupid course of action to take. She had to trust in her friends, and wait for Sandy and Brad to be apprehended.
They were probably hiding in plain sight, just as Ashley had said. And if so…
They were hiding around boaters. She looked at Ashley. “Want to have lunch at the club?”
“Sure. I just need to arrange a babysitter.”
KEITH COULD HEAR THE LULLING sound of his own breathing, at forty-five feet down, following the path of the reef. With breaks here and there, it stretched for nearly a mile.
Lee was topside. He and Matt were tracing a grid, with Matt perhaps twenty feet west of his position as they moved south.
Matt looked over at him and made the “okay” sign.
He returned it.
They continued searching the area. In his mind, he ran over and over his conversation—conducted in the fishing rod aisle—with Manny Ortega.
“You had my name and number from Ted Monoco?” had been his own first incredulous and very suspicious demand.
Ortega had given him a shrug and a shake of the head. “You didn’t know Ted, but he knew you. Four years ago, you were in the Everglades. A small plane had gone down. People he knew were on that plane. You and your crew rescued their daughter.”
Manny continued. “I tried to reach you before. The number Ted gave me was for an office in Virginia, and when I called, they said you were away on assignment for an unknown length of time.” He shrugged. “I contacted the police. I believe they tried with what resources they had. But the law in this country is that you may disappear if you choose if you’re an adult and doing nothing illegal.”
“Go on.”
“The last time I heard from Ted was when he mentioned you and gave me your number to try to reach you. He thought he was onto something. He didn’t say that he was afraid of anything, he was just very excited. I didn’t think much of it until time went on and I didn’t hear from him. Then I began to worry. That was when I tried to reach you but couldn’t. I finally felt there was nothing I could do. Then you appeared here.”
“So how did you get my cell phone number?”
“It wasn’t as difficult as you think. You gave it to Laurie Green, the girl you pulled from the plane in the Everglades. I finally thought to call her and ask.”
“I see. So what do you think I can do for you?”
“Find Ted and Molly. Dead or alive. Though I’m very afraid it will be dead.”
A ray suddenly dislodged sand near the base of the coral, drawing Keith’s mind back to the task at hand. The water was murky in the wake of the panicked fish. He nearly kept going.
Then he saw something.
Just the corner of something black that wasn’t coral.
He circled, looked. The sand had resettled. Carefully, with just his fingertips, he explored the area. Dusted carefully, trying not to create such a cloud of sand that his vision would be impaired. Patience was needed for this kind of work, and he had learned to practice that kind of restraint through the years.
His efforts paid off at last. He found the object.
It looked like a crusted, big black button.
But it wasn’t. His heart skipped a beat. He needed to get it back up to the boat, but he was almost certain what he had found.
His hand curled around it. He looked over at Matt, who had realized he was onto something.
For a moment he was tempted to drop the object, to shake his head to show he’d been mistaken and come back later. Mike was so convinced that there was someone on the inside….
And Manny Ortega believed Ted and Molly Monoco were dead. So did Keith, but he didn’t believe they’d been killed for their boat.
He believed they had found something on or near Calliope Key, then died for their discovery.
Too late.
Matt swam over to him. He produced the object. Matt stared at it, nodded silently, then studiously began searching the area further.
Keith placed the object in a pouch and joined Matt in the search.
They were close….
So close.
He had to wonder, though: Had others been this close before them?
But had those others even known just what it was they were really looking for?
14
IT WAS ON THE DRIVE to the club that Ashley looked at Beth and said, “You really do need to tell your brother what happened.”
“You mean about being attacked?”
“Yes. You’re in terror about filing a report because of Amber. He has a right to know.”
“He’ll tell me that I should file a report. And God knows—he might do something stupid and dangerous.”
“You should file a report.” Ashley lifted a hand in the air to silence the protest she knew was coming. “Make it official. If Sandy and Brad are what I think they are—tough-talking but only preying on the vulnerable—they’re not brave enough to go up against real authority. They were at Nick’s, a piece of real stupidity. The place is known for being a cop hangout. I doubt they really know what you’re doing—it’s unlikely that they have the time to continue to stake you out. They intended to scare you. That’s all. Don’t let them succeed.”
Beth mulled over