Obie’s expression was unreadable. “In Key West?”
“Well, no.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him. Obie stayed where he was. Anders rubbed his whiskered jaw then drove his fingers through his hair and exhaled heavily. “I don’t live in Key West, son, but I reckon we could stay at least through the New Year. What do you think about that?”
“I like Key West.”
Anders nodded. “Key West is pretty.”
“And nice.”
“Yeah, real nice.”
Obie launched himself into Anders’ arms and squeezed him tightly. As he held his son, joy washed over him like a tsunami, subtle but mighty, and he knew he’d made the right decision.
“Thanks, Dad.” Obie pulled back. “Promise you’ll bring Cheyenne home safe?”
Anders swallowed the lump in his throat. “I promise.” He kissed Obie’s head then watched him dash out of the room.
Wiping moisture from his eye, he stood up and pressed his lips together grimly. He was not looking forward to telling Molly about her daughter.
Cheyenne lay shivering on the cold, gritty warehouse floor, watching Wade pace back and forth on the other side of a large office window. He was on the phone. She curled her legs into her chest and buried her face in her knees. Her hands were zip-tied behind her back and her head hurt. Wade had hit her from behind just before he’d shoved her into the backseat of a car. The lump behind her right ear throbbed like it had a pulse. If she thought about it too much, she was going to be sick again.
A tremor rolled through her body, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry. She was going to die. She’d heard Wade talking about it in the car when he thought she was unconscious. He was worried about someone named Albatross figuring out how much he’d screwed up. The guy on speakerphone told him Ma and Anders had survived the trap he set for them in Jamaica and that Anders was a famous celebrity. Wade let out a string of cuss words and almost lost control of the car. His friend suggested he ransom Cheyenne for money, but Wade hadn’t liked that idea. Ominously, he said, “Albatross won’t be pleased. He’s going to come for me. If I don’t make this problem disappear, I’m a dead man.”
A chill had settled into Cheyenne’s bones and she couldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t know who Albatross was, but the dude sounded scarier than Wade.
A boom of thunder made Cheyenne jump and she winced as the plastic cuffs bit into her flesh.
Outside, the wind howled and the rain splashed against the roaring surf. They weren’t far from where Wade had snatched her from the cruise ship terminal. He’d taken her to an industrial area by the water. The abandoned warehouse smelled of fish and moldy wood from the old crates rotting in the corner. There were four windows. Tall and narrow, they sat a good eight feet off the ground. Two of the windows were boarded up, and two were open and missing glass, but it didn’t matter. Even if she could get her hands free, there was no way she could reach the windows without a ladder.
They hadn’t been there long, maybe ten minutes. Wade had dragged her into the warehouse and ordered her to stay while he made a phone call. Cheyenne’s teeth were chattering too hard to argue, and her legs felt like Jell-O, so she wasn’t going anywhere anyway.
Why hadn’t she listened to Mrs. Templeton and called Ma last night to let her know the ship was arriving in Nassau early? She’d said she would, but then she started talking to the other girls and completely forgot. If she would’ve remembered to call, maybe Wade wouldn’t have gotten to her first and—
Wade opened the door and came out of the office. Dressed in a navy three-piece suit, he looked like a groomsman in a fancy wedding, not a murderous kidnapper. “Give me your mother’s phone number.”
A sliver of fear skittered down her back, but she fought against it. She hated feeling afraid. Raising her head, she glared at him. “Go to hell.”
Wade chuckled. “Those are brave words from a little girl. Give me her number.”
“Why?” She didn’t trust anything he said, but she had to ask.
“So we can tell her where you are.”
Cheyenne’s stomach twisted into a tight knot. “You mean, so you can kill her too.”
Wade’s expression was impassive and his lyrical voice was calm. “You have a very big imagination. Who is the man traveling with your mother?”
Cheyenne swallowed hard. “Man?”
“Yes. Tall, blond, athletic build.” Wade bit out the words, growing more agitated. “What is his name?”
If Wade didn’t recognize him, she wasn’t going to help him out. “I-I don’t know.”
“Stop lying. He’s a celebrity of some sort. Who is he? I will find out, even if you don’t tell me.”
Cheyenne clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want Wade to hurt Ma or Anders either. And he would hurt them. It didn’t matter that Anders was famous, Wade would kill him too before he disappeared. Cheyenne’s stomach lurched, and bile climbed up her throat. She breathed raggedly through her nose.
“Your mother hasn’t gone to the police. Why?”
Cheyenne shook her head again.
“Don’t lie to me again.” He grabbed the front of her shirt and lifted her clear off the ground.
She gasped and squeezed her eyes closed as she turned her head away. “I don’t know. I swear.”
He let go of her and she landed hard against the concrete floor, whacking the tender spot on the back of her head. The stab of pain brought fresh tears to her eyes. She curled into a ball and watched Wade take out his phone. He swiped the screen, searching for something. When he found it, he turned the phone around and showed it to Cheyenne. “And the little boy in the photograph? Who is he?”
Blood pounded in her ears as she stared at a picture of Obie eating Burger King. “Leave him alone,” Cheyenne blurted before she could stop herself.
“Is he your brother?”
“He’s only, uh, six,” she lied, hoping the boy’s small size and baby face would save him. “He doesn’t understand what’s going on. D-don’t hurt him. Please!”
“I have no interest in the child. Give me the number.”
She stared at him, dizzy with relief that he wasn’t planning to go after Obie too.
Suddenly, Wade lunged forward, growling, “Give me the number or I’ll change my mind about your brother.”
Cheyenne gave him the number.
He moved away from her and called Molly.
Nausea churned in Cheyenne’s stomach again. She used her shoulder to wipe away the tears streaming down her face and sniffled loudly.
Wade’s voice was soft and pleasant. “Ms. MacBain? Sorry to wake you. Your daughter’s ship arrived early.” He paused. “Yes. Yes. An hour ago.” Another pause. “Forgive me, it’s Winston Wade.”
Molly shouted through the phone. Cheyenne’s heart leapt at the sound of her mother’s voice even though she couldn’t make out what she was saying.
Wade clenched his teeth and scowled, but his polite tone stayed the same. “Your daughter is fine. I’ll let you speak to her in a moment, but first, I have a proposition for you.”
Anders was closing his bedroom door when he received a text from Selena confirming she’d booked two first class tickets on the last flight out of Nassau. She and Obie would be in Miami before lunchtime. With one less thing to worry about, he jogged down the stairs as quickly as he could, heading for Molly’s room. He was two steps from the bottom when the front door opened and Mitch blew in with a squall of rain and leaves.
“Hey.” He pointed with his thumb. “I thought that was you in the taxi. I was just gonna call you.”
“What taxi?” Anders met him in the hall.
“The one that just pulled out of here like a bat out of hell.” Mitch was looking back over his shoulder. His head snapped around. “Where’s Molly?”
Anders didn’t understand his concern. She wouldn’t take off without him. Even though he was certain of it, he started for the kitchen
. “She’s in her room. I was just coming down to tell her about Cheyenne.”
Mitch followed him. “I don’t think she’s in her room.”
Anders flipped on the light switch as he passed through the kitchen and didn’t stop to knock on her door. Shoving it open, he stopped just inside the room and took in the unmade bed, the dark ensuite bathroom, and the Keds missing from the floor. The knot in his stomach sank to his feet. “She’s gone,” he said, half stunned.
Mitch was on the move, heading for the front door.
Anders jogged to keep up with him. “How are we going to find her?”
“There are only two yellow cab companies on the island. We’ll call them and figure out where she’s heading.”
They dashed into the rain, running for Mitch’s rented black SUV.
Anders climbed into the passenger seat. “You think she’s going to try to get Cheyenne back on her own?”
“Looks that way.”
As they sped off in the direction Molly had gone. Anders put his phone to his ear and waited for the first cab company to pick up. “She’s gonna get herself killed.”
Mitch bent forward, squinting to see out the windshield. The wipers were going a mile a minute. “Then we better find her before she finds Wade.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Molly sat in the back of the speeding taxi cab, debating if she should call the police. They would have a ton of questions like, for starters, how come she hadn’t called them sooner? How could she admit the truth? That she’d rather gamble with her daughter’s life than risk losing a custody battle to her selfish bastard of an ex-husband?
On the phone, Wade had claimed he was interested in striking a bargain. He would deliver Cheyenne safely back to Molly in return for their silence. It sounded like a fair deal, but she couldn’t help feeling like a canary flying into a trap set by a big, fat, sly cat. Wade said Molly should bring her man along but tell no one else. Molly didn’t want Anders to risk his life again for her. If she’d told him about Wade’s proposition, the stubborn man never would’ve let her go alone, and she had to do this. Every second Cheyenne was with Wade her life was in danger. If Molly came alone, he wouldn’t expect a fight from her, but she was prepared to do whatever she had to do to save her daughter.
What would Anders think when he discovered she was gone? A lump of regret formed in her throat and she swallowed hard. What did it matter? If the price of one blissful night with him turned out to be her daughter’s life then—no, she wouldn’t go there. She should’ve planted herself at the cruise terminal the moment she arrived in Nassau and waited there all night. Instead, she’d been out souvenir shopping and watching sunsets. Screwing a fantasy man who would never love her the way she wanted him to love her.
The cab stopped in front of a boarded-up grocery store. She swiped a stray tear from her cheek and squared her shoulders. She could do this. She had to for Cheyenne.
The American expat taxi driver turned around in his seat. In his mid-sixties, he was deeply tanned from spending too much time in the sun. “You sure this is where you want to be dropped off? The hurricane is only a few hours from making landfall and she’s already tossing debris like rice at a wedding.”
“I’ll be careful.” Molly fumbled with the door handle. “Damn it.”
“Lift the latch. That’s it.” The driver leaned on the steering wheel. “This part of town is mostly boarded up because it’s so close to the waterfront, but just a few blocks west, The Old Wharf Bar is open for business, even at this hour of the morning. They’re having a hurricane party.”
“Thanks for the info.” Molly forced a smile as she handed him some cash and opened the door.
As she slid across the seat, her hand went to the pocket knife duct taped to her inner thigh, making sure it was still there even though the six-inch piece of metal was pressing into her soft flesh like a cookie mold. She’d found the makeshift weapon in a kitchen drawer along with the tape. She might be bringing a knife to a gun fight, but at least she wasn’t coming empty handed.
Molly had borrowed the raincoat she was wearing from Ms. Vivian’s hall closet. She pulled the hood up and tightened the belt around her waist before she dashed across the empty street and made her way to the arched entrance of the city dock.
It was just past 7 a.m. on a Tuesday morning, but except for the occasional motorist speeding past, the town was deserted. No one was stupid enough to be out roaming the streets in a hurricane. The sky was an odd purplish-gray with patches of yellow and orange where the sun was trying to break through the clouds. Squinting against the gusting wind, Molly stood with her back to a bumper-sticker covered stone column. It wasn’t raining just now, but the dark gray band coming her way suggested it would be very soon.
A car turned the corner, an innocuous brown sedan. It stopped at the curb, ten feet away from her, and the passenger side window went down. Winston Wade sat in the driver seat. “You came alone? Where’s your man?”
“I didn’t tell him where I was going.” She folded her arms across her chest and bent to look into the car. “Where’s Cheyenne?”
“You’ll see her soon enough. Take off your jacket and leave it there.”
“But it’s cold.” It wasn’t that cold, but it would be once the rain started again.
“Do it. Or I’ll drive away right now and you’ll never see your daughter again.”
Bile climbed up Molly’s throat. She clenched her teeth and nodded tightly. “Fine.”
Keeping her eyes on Wade, she untied the jacket and dropped it on the ground by her feet. She was wearing a pair of green cargo shorts and a loose white T-shirt. The shorts were just baggy enough to hide the knife taped to her inner thigh, or so she hoped.
“Lift your shirt.”
“No.” The tension building up inside of Molly snapped and she lunged for the car, slamming her hands against the side of it. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch. We had a deal. Take me to my daughter.”
“Do it.”
Trembling with anger, Molly stepped back and raised the T-shirt, bearing her mid-section. She turned around in a circle before he told her to.
“Get in the car.”
Molly climbed into the passenger seat and sat facing forward with her hands in her lap. Glancing at Wade, she took in his black turtleneck, pants, and boots. There was a gun in the leather holster strapped across his chest. The sight of the gun flashing silver in a sliver of daylight made her ill. Maybe she was in way over her head.
It was too late though. The car pulled away from the curb and made a U-turn. Wade stuck out his hand. “Give me your cell phone.”
“Oh!” Molly gasped and turned around, looking back at the raincoat lying in a pile on the sidewalk. “It was in my coat pocket.”
“Good.” He kept driving.
“Is Cheyenne hurt?” Molly steeled herself for his answer.
“She’s alive.”
Panic fluttered in her breast. “That’s not what I asked. Is she hurt?”
“I’ve had no reason to harm your daughter.”
This eased Molly’s worry, but only slightly. The unspoken word “yet” hung in the air like a heavy, gray thunderhead.
Less than a quarter of a mile up the road, they passed The Warf Bar. The place the cab driver had mentioned. The two-story concrete building had boarded up its windows, but a big painted sign beside the door said: “We’re open…until the building blows away.” Island music blared through the open door though there was no sign of anyone going in or out of the building. A block past the bar, Wade turned into a district of warehouses situated on the waterfront beside a marina.
The buildings were maybe twenty feet wide by forty feet deep and in various stages of dilapidation. One looked like it had been burned out fairly recently.
Molly cleared her voice before speaking, but it still sounded strained and scratchy. “How is this going to go? You’re just going to give Cheyenne to me and let us leave in return for our promise that we’ll forg
et about what happened?” If she hadn’t been so distraught earlier, she might have realized how ridiculous that sounded.
“That’s right.”
Molly raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “You’re just going to take our word for it that we won’t talk?”
Wade’s smile was pleasant and unconcerned. He shrugged. “Thanks to the information in Cheyenne’s wallet, I know where you live and I also know you’re the owner of a bookstore in Key West. The Ever After Book Shoppe. How quaint that sounds. If you should decide to speak to anyone about me, I will hear of it. I have connections in Florida. It will only take a phone call to destroy everything you hold dear, including your daughter.”
Molly shivered and rubbed her bare arms.
“Do we have an understanding?”
She nodded because she couldn’t bring herself to speak just now.
Wade drove to the very end of the row and then turned down an alley that was barely wider than the car. He turned again and couldn’t go any farther because they’d reached the water. The warehouse’s entrance was steps from the passenger side door. Molly grabbed the handle and started to get out of the car.
“Wait. Stay where you are while I come around.”
A heavy padlock secured the metal barn doors. As Molly watched Wade fiddle with the rusty lock, the rain started again, fierce and heavy, like a hose nozzle had suddenly turned on full blast. She’d only have one chance to use the knife, so she needed to pick the right moment. Wade was a good head taller and fifty pounds heavier than she was. She had to go for a kidney or maybe his crotch. One would kill him. The other would just slow him down long enough for her and Cheyenne to get away. While Wade’s back was turned, she thought about taking advantage of the moment. But she hesitated a fraction too long.
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