Moose picked up a spear gun, too. “You never know when a shark might turn aggressive.” He spit into his mask. “You forgot to remove your earrings. Sharks are attracted to shiny things.”
“Thanks.” Dana reached up for her diamond studs, a fifth anniversary present from Sam. She placed them in the dry pouch that hung from her hips. The pouch carried extra sunscreen, a spare key, cash and a credit card, a habit she’d started after a thief snatched her purse from a beach on Aruba. “All set?”
Moose gestured to the water. “I’m right behind you.”
She ambled into the warm water, and Moose followed. The sea lapped at her thighs, then her waist as she walked out farther. Dana stopped to pull the mask over her nose and eyes, placed the snorkel into her mouth and dived in. She was immediately rewarded by the refreshing buoyancy of the saltwater. It had been much too long since she’d taken a tropical vacation—or any vacation. She only wished Sam’s arm hadn’t been in a sling so he could enjoy the reef, too.
Moose was a poor substitute. He really didn’t have the personality for a guide.
But with the reef in plain sight, Dana didn’t require directions. Violet fan coral and yellow and purple striped fish led her onward. Bright sunlight made it easy to see about four or five feet below the surface. But the former storm and previous wave action had clouded the deeper water.
Content to stay near the surface, she took in the view. She caught several glimpses of Moose, who lagged behind, his dreads floating wildly around his scarred face.
His image bugged her, and again she thought she should have recognized him. She turned her head and really looked at him, but no matching likeness came from her memory. However, Dana suddenly recalled Mandy’s description of her assailant in the parking garage: black, with scars from acne and dreads.
No.
There had to be thousands of men matching that description, particularly here in the Bahamas. Still . . . at the recollection of his spear gun, the lethal-looking knife, and how unsuited he seemed to his job, fear tugged at the back of her throat, and she gasped for air through her snorkel.
Don’t panic.
She could be jumping to conclusions, her tired mind playing tricks on her.
Her gut said otherwise, especially since Lisa had been slashed to death with a knife.
Dana’s brain might try to rationalize that her assumptions were all a big mistake, but her pulse raced. Oh, God . . . had Moose tracked her here and somehow convinced Sam to hire him?
She was in trouble.
Her only advantage was that Moose didn’t know she suspected the danger.
Dana was a strong swimmer and put a little more distance between herself and Moose. She wasn’t certain how far a spear gun would shoot. She didn’t want to find out.
Was it just another coincidence that Moose had positioned himself between her and the shore?
Self-preservation made her spit water out of her mouth before she choked. Sam couldn’t have known the danger he was putting her in by hiring Moose.
He couldn’t have.
When a harpoon whooshed by her and struck the reef, Dana could no longer deny the truth. Moose wanted her dead.
And she was alone. Without a weapon. No way to call for help.
Fear lodged in her gut. And her muscles seemed to go on the fritz. Moose was gunning for her. Hunting her.
When a second harpoon missed her shoulder by inches, Dana’s anger surged and fueled her determination—even as tears burned her eyes.
If she wanted to live a little longer, her only choice was to swim out to sea, lose Moose, and somehow make it back to shore.
Chapter Forty-Eight
A DEA AGENT had located Dana’s cell phone and passed on the coordinates to Zack. With no transportation available, Zack and Mandy had no choice but to sprint on foot to the island’s southern tip.
Loose sand and clumps of grass made running uneven and difficult. Zack seemed to have no difficulty maintaining a quick pace, but Mandy’s side burned, and her lungs ached. Although she did yoga when she had time, she obviously needed more aerobic conditioning.
“Zack, go on . . . I’ll . . . catch up,” Mandy panted, unwilling to delay him one second when she knew Dana was in danger. Just a few critical moments might make the difference between her living or . . .
“I’m not leaving you.” Zack slowed his pace.
“But Dana needs you.”
“Moose could double back and find you alone.” Zack’s eyes narrowed, and his tone was grim.
Mandy forced air into her lungs and tried to find a running rhythm. The bright sun and the warm temperature didn’t help. Only the knowledge that Zack wouldn’t go ahead without her and her fear for Dana kept her going.
When they crested a hill, she got her second wind, or maybe it was the sight of the empty golf cart on the beach that spurred her on.
Where was Dana? Mandy didn’t see her friend. Or Moose.
The beach appeared deserted, but she redoubled her efforts. Zack must have thought it was now safe to leave her and surged ahead. By the time she’d collapsed to a halt, he’d found Dana’s cell phone in a backpack she’d left in the golf cart.
Two sets of footsteps in the sand clearly led from the beach into the water.
Zack peeled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes. He kept the gun holstered at the small of his back and another at his ankle.
Without hesitation, Mandy removed her shirt and slacks, leaving her free to swim in her bra and panties. Already out of breath, she didn’t need any extra drag.
Zack lunged toward the water just as she glanced at the golf cart full of gear. “Zack, wait.”
Digging into the gear at the back of the cart, she found and tossed him a mask, snorkel, and fins, then retrieved a set for herself and raced after him, trying to put on the mask, while carrying the fins to the water and juggling, then dropping a fin.
She wouldn’t do Dana any good if she panicked. Or fainted from lack of air. Forcing herself to slow down and breathe, she picked up the fins and tucked them under her arm, pulled the mask in place. She walked out until she was up to her hips before putting on the fins.
By the time she started swimming, she could see Zack ahead of her, his fins churning a white frothing wake as he aimed for the reef. At first the change from running to swimming was a good switch for her body. But breathing through the snorkel took effort, and her arms quickly tired.
Thankfully, the fins kept her going. She searched for any sign of Dana, but the reef twisted and curved, and she could be behind the next bend or half a mile away. Mandy spied spiny sea urchins whose quills reminded her of a porcupine and took care not to touch them or the red fire coral that could burn the skin on contact. At the sight of lobsters waving their claws, a moray eel backing into its hole, and a ray skimming the bottom, she shivered at the hostile environment.
Mandy preferred to do her swimming in a pool where there was no chance of a jellyfish sting or of being eaten. Luckily the tiger sharks were small—although she supposed they could nibble on a finger or toe. Yikes. If she wasn’t careful, she’d scare herself into heading back to shore.
Where the hell was Dana?
Forcing her legs to kick harder, Mandy tried to keep up, but Zack was by far the stronger swimmer. However, all of a sudden he stopped and gestured for her to stop, too.
Squinting through her mask, she tried to see what he saw. But she tilted her head and sucked water through her snorkel. Coughing, she had to tread water for air. It took several moments to regain her composure, blow the water from the snorkel and duck back under.
On the surface, the water had appeared serene, warm, and balmy. In the distance a sailboat flew a bright red spinnaker and ran downwind. Above her head, sea gulls swooped and dived.
Mandy searched for Zack at the s
pot where she’d seen him last. When she couldn’t find him, her heart sped and she gnawed the snorkel between her teeth. Why had he stopped? Where had he gone?
Before she could begin to guess, she spied a dark silhouette in the water. Peering closer, she noted yellow swim fins. At first, in the distance she thought it was Zack and started swimming closer, but then she realized the darkness wasn’t caused by lack of light, the swimmer had dark skin. A headful of dreads.
Moose!
Terror froze her limbs. He was swimming right toward her, a knife in his hand.
Chapter Forty-Nine
HORRIFIED, ZACK peered through his mask. About fifty yards away, his sister thrashed, blood clouding the water around her in a pocket so thick that he couldn’t even determine the location of her wound. Dana. Heaven help him. His little sister was dying, bleeding to death right before his eyes, and he tamped down a silent howl of fury.
Zack couldn’t afford to wallow in emotion. Dana’s only chance to live . . . was Zack.
But saving Dana . . . meant leaving Mandy. His heart wrenched.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Mandy gamely following, then focused on Dana. Her flailing slowed, her body went limp. She might have already suffered a mortal wound, but if Zack didn’t reach her soon, even if sharks weren’t attracted to the blood in the water and about to start a feeding frenzy, she would most certainly drown.
Zack had no choice. Forging ahead, he kicked toward Dana, arms cutting through the water with desperation. His lungs ached for air, but he barely noticed his discomfort. Dana wasn’t moving. She didn’t appear to be holding her breath or breathing. He had to get her to shore fast, get some air into her lungs.
Zack finally reached her, placed an arm over her shoulder and across her chest and surged to the surface. He couldn’t wait to perform CPR until he got her to shore, she’d be dead. He felt for a pulse. It was weak, but there. He spun her around until she faced him, pinched her nostrils shut and then awkwardly placed his mouth over hers, trying to push air into her lungs. But her head lolled, and they both sank.
Come on, Dana. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Again, he lifted Dana’s head above the water, but since she wasn’t breathing, it wasn’t doing her any good. Kicking madly to keep both of their heads above the surface, he again tried to force air into her lungs.
This time she coughed, spit out water but never opened her eyes, an indication of her weakened state and loss of blood. Nevertheless, as she began to breathe, relief washed over him.
Then she thrashed, inadvertently smacking him. “No. No.”
“Easy, Dana.” He saw the knife slash that began at her temple and opened all the way to her ear and winced. Moose had to be out here somewhere close by, and Zack was as worried about Mandy as he was about Dana. Where was Mandy?
Zack stayed calm, talking soothingly to his sister. “It’s Zack. I’ve got you, relax.”
Maybe his words got through to Dana or maybe she’d sunk back into unconsciousness. She went limp again. Zack started to swim her toward shore, floating Dana on her back, kicking hard with his fins and spitting out salt water from sea spray.
By now Mandy should have swum beside him. Where was she? Where was Moose?
He scanned the surface but didn’t see anyone. Ducking his mask and head underwater, Zack looked right, left, toward the reef. He swore. Moose was swimming straight for Mandy, his arm outstretched with a twelve-inch blade . . .
Swim. Damn it. Swim.
Mandy didn’t move. She seemed frozen in place, bubbles rising from her snorkel, the only indication she was alive.
Didn’t she see the danger? Why wasn’t she swimming away?
Zack couldn’t shout to warn her or to give instruction, and he couldn’t let go of Dana or she’d drown. Torn at the terrible choice of helping Mandy survive a killer’s attack or rescuing Dana, Zack didn’t hesitate.
By God, Moose wasn’t going to kill either one of them.
Moose swam closer to Mandy.
Zack grasped for the gun at his waist—but the holster was empty. Lost, during his swim. He plucked the back-up gun from his ankle holster, but he couldn’t fire underwater. The bullet would lose momentum, only travel a few feet.
Treading water, holding Dana above the surface with one hand and waiting for Moose to surface so he could shoot him with the other took supreme concentration. The wave action kept changing the angles.
Moose surfaced for air. Zack fired. Missed. And swore.
Moose swam within ten feet of Mandy. If he came any closer, Zack feared he might miss Moose and hit her.
Fear rode up onto his shoulders and weighed him down.
Mandy suddenly revived—as if Moose’s nearness had jolted her into action—and she turned toward shore and swam with furious strokes. Moose surfaced and pursued. He was gaining on her.
Zack held his breath, fired twice more, and this time, he hit flesh. Moose’s body curled into the fetal position. Blood spurted. Zack didn’t know where he’d struck. He didn’t care.
Mandy could now swim to shore free of pursuit. Zack placed the gun back in the ankle holster and focused on carrying Dana to shore. Exhausted, he finally put his feet down on sandy beach and Mandy helped him tug Dana to safety.
It was a measure of Zack’s exhaustion that he had no breath to speak. He sat beside Dana, gasping.
And Moose lunged out of the water.
Chapter Fifty
WHEN MOOSE reared out of the water, blood streaming down his arm, fear iced through Mandy. For a moment, she could only stare in terror. But Zack, cool as James Bond, reached for his gun and fired.
The bullet splashed in the water about two feet in front of Moose, and he halted in waist-deep water. Eyes wide, blood running down his arm, he stammered, “Shh-shark.”
A large fin veered toward him.
He took another step forward.
Zack fired again and water spattered Moose in the face. Zack then raised his gun and leveled it at Moose’s chest. “I won’t miss the next time.”
“Please.” Moose shook and craned his head over his shoulder, his eyes wide in terror at the sight of the large fin swimming toward him. “Don’t let it eat me. I’ll do anything.”
Zack’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll wear a wire. Nail Sam for us?”
“Yes.”
Zack cocked his head as if to consider.
“Please. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Mandy held her breath. Moose may have slashed Lisa to death, may have killed Maria and Ray. He’d definitely just tried to kill Dana and Mandy. He deserved to die . . . and yet, she didn’t want to see a shark tear him apart, limb from limb.
Zack’s eyes burned with fire and resolve as he glared at Moose. “You change your mind, I’ll make sure you end up as shark bait, not in some air-conditioned cell.” Zack pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his jeans. “When you reach the sand, turn around and drop to your knees.”
Moose scrambled out of the water, just as the shark swam by. Despite the bullet wound in his arm, he didn’t hesitate to drop and place his hands behind his back. Zack handed Mandy the gun. “If he twitches, shoot him.”
“No problem.”
Zack snapped the cuffs closed with an efficient motion that told her he’d performed the task many times. But she had never before seen Zack under pressure. He’d rescued Dana, saved Mandy from Moose, caught the killer, and made a deal with him that would put Sam away forever. But now that she’d seen Zack in action, she realized he was too good at his job to ever give it up. And a tiny piece of her died.
Zack used the phone he’d left on the beach to check on the DEA chopper. Then he smoothed Dana’s hair out of the open wound on her face. “Medical help’s on the way.”
Zack held out his hand to Mandy. She shrugged into her shirt
and then without hesitation took Zack’s hand. Together they waited for the helicopter.
“I’m sorry I left you behind in the water,” the words came out of him torn and ragged. “But Dana would have drowned if—”
“It was a terrible choice to have to make.” She didn’t know what else to say to reassure him.
“I knew Moose was out there. I promised I’d keep you safe.”
“You did. I’m fine.”
“I left you unprotected.”
Mandy leaned forward and pressed her lips to Zack’s cheek. “I would never have forgiven you if you hadn’t saved my best friend.”
“And I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d lost you.”
Chapter Fifty-One
TO MANDY’S SURPRISE, Moose had actually kept his word. In return for sentencing consideration, Moose had fully cooperated with the authorities. He’d worn an FBI wire and tricked Sam into implicating himself and admitting he’d hired Moose—right before Sam had tried to shoot him.
Apparently, Sam had intended to clean up all the loose ends. With Moose dead, Sam could claim he’d shot the man who’d murdered his wife and Lisa. If not for Zack, Sam would have been a hero, instead of a ruined man.
From her hospital bed, in a room opposite Maria’s, Dana had just listened to Sam’s taped confession. Watching her face had been painful for Mandy. Upon hearing the confirmation that her husband had planned to kill her, tears had brimmed in Dana’s eyes and fallen to her cheeks. But she’d taken Mandy’s hand, lifted her chin, and told her she’d be fine.
Mandy knew if anyone could recover, Dana would. She had a loving family to support her. Mandy would do whatever it took to help her through it. If Dana needed her—she’d be there.
Maria and Ray would also survive, but would have to suffer through several plastic surgeries to minimize their physical scarring. The horrible experience had brought the couple even closer together, and when Maria recovered consciousness, she’d been able to tell them that while Moose had slashed them, he’d bragged about killing Lisa. Mandy was glad Moose would be locked away forever.
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