Vince looked from Nick to Jason and then at Nick again. “I think he chased me through half of the hammock. Then he was gone.”
“I didn’t see him,” Jason said.
Nick stood. “All right.” He looked over at Jason Tiger. “This time, I think it’s me. I think that I need to go,” he said.
Tiger nodded.
“You’re going out there again?” Kody asked him.
“Yes, we need to stop Dillinger and, hopefully, find Floyd alive.”
He turned, heading out of the little cabin in the swamp. Even as he did so, they heard shouts. Kody hurried to the door behind Jason.
An airboat had arrived; it bore a number of men in khaki uniforms.
Men with guns.
They were going after the killer in the swamps.
“Kody!”
One of the men, she saw, was hurrying toward her. It was Craig Frasier. He caught her up in a hug.
“Thank God. Kieran and Kevin have been going insane, they’ve been so worried about you. Not to mention your family. We’ll get you home. We’ll get you back to safety.”
She gave him a hug back. Craig was truly an amazing man. Kody was happy that he and Kieran Finnegan were together—and happy that he was a good friend to Kevin and all of the Finnegan family.
She was grateful to know him, and everyone involved with Finnegan’s on Broadway.
He was there for her.
She and Vince were safe.
And yet, at that moment—right when she was surrounded by law enforcement—she felt bereft.
Nick was gone. He was off with the teams of officers that had come out to find Dillinger and Floyd.
EMTs had arrived with the officers; they were looking at Vince’s wounds. They were asking her if she was all right.
Soon, she was escorted onto an airboat. And before she knew it, she was back on the Tamiami Trail, headed toward downtown Miami and to the home in the Roads section of the city, just north of Coconut Grove, where she had grown up. A policewoman came with her, took her statement and promised to watch her house through the night—just in case Dillinger found his way to her before they were able to find Dillinger.
And there was nothing left to do except watch the television to see how the rest of it all began to unfold.
*
DILLINGER WAS OUT THERE. He was determined to get the treasure, and so, Nick was certain, he had to have stayed in the general area where they had been.
Law enforcement had fanned out, but by the time they reached the hammock again, the airboat that Dillinger had extorted from the men he had been blackmailing was gone. He was off, somewhere.
The forces that had come out for the search were from Miami-Dade and Monroe counties, Florida Highway Patrol, the U.S. Marshal’s Office and the FBI.
But, as the hours went by, they found nothing.
Nick was about to give it up himself when he determined one more time to search the original hammock. The grasses grew high there, and a twisted pattern of pines might hide just about anything along the northern edge of the hammock.
He came out alone and stood in the center, as still as he could manage. And that was when he was certain he heard movement. He cautiously took a step, and then another, and drew his weapon and gave out a warning. “FBI. Show yourself, hands above your head.”
Floyd emerged out of the grass. He was shaking visibly.
“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. They can lock me up, but I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die. But you are under arrest.”
“Barrow. You,” Floyd said. “I should have known you were a cop. I mean, I don’t like blood and guts. But you...? Wow. I should have guessed it. It’s cool. It doesn’t matter. Get me in. Protect me. He was running around here crazy. Dillinger, I mean. He wants me dead. He wants you dead more but...” He shook his head as he stepped forward. “Get me out of here. Quickly. He’ll shoot me dead right here in front of all of you, he just wants me dead so badly.”
“All right, all right,” Nick said, and cuffed the man. He caught him by the elbow and hurried back toward the airboat where other officers were waiting. “Come on, we’ll get you in. You’ll be safe.”
“Did you get him? Did you get Dillinger?” Floyd asked.
“Not yet.”
“You have to get him.”
“Yes, we know.”
But while Floyd was brought in, and they worked through the night, there was no sign of Dillinger to be found.
When morning dawned, he was still on the loose.
*
KODY SIPPED COFFEE and watched the news.
She should have slept, but she hadn’t.
Her parents had arrived as soon as humanly possible, of course. They’d been worried sick about her, and she understood.
They’d nearly crushed her. Her mother had cried. Her father had cursed the day he’d discovered he’d been related to the Crystal family. Emotions had soared and then, thankfully, fallen back to earth and she had finally managed to make her parents behave normally once again.
She’d gotten a call from Mayor Holden Burke. He’d nearly been in tears as they had spoken. He’d been told by the police that it had been her courage against the kidnappers that had led to his son being found. She’d told him how grateful she was that the boy, Adrian, was alive, and she’d begged him not to do anything publicly for her—she wanted it all to remain low key.
“Yes, but I hear you’re an actress—don’t you want the publicity?” he’d asked.
She’d laughed. “No, I want to create characters and read well for auditions and, of course, get great reviews,” she told him. “The only publicity I want is for great performances. As far as my home goes... I just worry.”
“Oh, trust me,” he assured her, “more people than ever will want to tour the house now. And I will thank you with my whole heart and remain low key.”
When she hung up, she’d smiled, glad of a new friend.
She needed to sleep.
But hours later she was back up, staring at the television. She wanted to hear about Nick.
Every local channel and even the national channels had covered the news.
Nathan Appleby, aka Dillinger, was still on the loose. The FBI had been on his trail for nearly a year, from the northeast down to the far south. Thanks, however, to the combined efforts of various law-enforcement groups, the hostages taken at the Crystal Manor were safe, as were those who had been forced to accompany the criminals. Three of the gang had been killed; their bodies had been recovered by the Coast Guard and the Miccosukee police.
Dillinger, however, was still at large. The local populace was advised that he was armed and extremely dangerous.
There was nothing said about Nick Connolly.
“Hey!”
She had been sitting in the living room, quietly watching the television. She turned to see that her father was already up, as well.
She smiled and patted the sofa next to her. He came and sat with her.
“The manhunt continues?” he asked.
“Here’s the thing. Dillinger manipulates people. The men who brought him the airboat—they weren’t bad. I mean, I don’t think they would ever want to hurt anyone. Dillinger put them into a desperate situation, like he does with everyone.”
With an arm around her shoulders, her father said, “I didn’t want you moving to New York. And I didn’t want to stop you. You have to follow your dreams, and you’re responsible and...well, now I’m glad you’re going to be in New York—far, far away from wherever the Anthony Green stash might be. I thank God that you were rescued. I can’t imagine what your mom and I would have gone through if we had made it home and...and you hadn’t been found.”
“I’m very thankful.”
“You don’t ever have to work at that awful mansion again—under any circumstances!”
“Dad, the house wasn’t at fault. I love the old house and the history—and we don’t throw it all away
because of a very bad man. They will find him.”
He nodded. “I know. For your mom and me, you’re everything, though. We thought it was tough when you decided to move to New York, when you landed the role and you got the part-time gig at Finnegan’s. But...you were safer there.”
“None of us can ever expect something like what happened, Dad. Anywhere. Bad people exist everywhere.”
“I know,” he told her quietly. “Because of New York, though, you already knew that FBI man who brought you home.”
“Craig Frasier. Yes, I know him through Kieran Finnegan, who is Kevin’s sister. You met Kevin—I introduced you to him when we were in an infomercial together.”
“Right.”
“His family owns the pub where I’ll be working part-time. And you will love it when you come up,” Kody assured her father.
“And he’s the one who saved you?”
Kody shook her head. “No. That was Nick.”
“They haven’t even mentioned a Nick on the news, you know.”
“I know. He was working undercover. But... ” Her voice trailed.
“Well, if he weren’t all right and still working this thing, you’d be hearing about a dead agent,” her father said.
“Dad!”
“Am I right?”
“Yes, you’re right.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “Don’t blame the house on Crystal Island, Dad. Don’t stop loving it. Don’t stop caring about it. If we do that, we let the bad guys win, you know.”
“Very nobly said,” her father told her, a slight smile twisting his lips. “But...I say screw all noble thoughts when it comes to your safety!”
“Dad!”
“Not really. I just want them to catch that guy!”
Kody agreed.
And she longed to hear that Nick Connolly was fine, as well.
*
TWO DAYS LATER there were still a number of officers searching through the miles and miles that encompassed the enormous geographical body known as the Everglades.
Nick was no longer among them.
The chase now would fall to the men who knew the area.
He spent a day being debriefed and a day on paperwork. That was part of it, too.
He was going to be given a commendation. Thanks to his work, according to Director Egan via a video conference, a kidnapped child had been found and not a hostage had been harmed.
In his debriefing, Nick was determined that the agency understand it had been Dakota Cameron who had gotten the information out of Nathan Appleby and that Jason Tiger had been the one to convey it to the police and the FBI back in Miami. He was told that Kody had completely downplayed her role in the entire event, hoping that life could get back to normal.
He, too, would stay out of the public eye. It didn’t pay, in his position, to have his face plastered on newspapers across the country.
Floyd—aka Gary Forman—had told the police everything he knew about Dillinger, the gang and the various enterprises that Dillinger had been into. What seemed surprising to Nick at the end of it all was that Dillinger was an amazing crook. The man had worked with a scope that Nick, even as part of the gang, had merely been able to guess about.
Sitting with Craig Frasier in the Miami Bureau offices, he shook his head and said, “Why did the man become so obsessed with a treasure that may not exist? If he stayed away from Crystal Island, he could still be fronting all his illicit operations.”
“Who says he isn’t? The man is still out there,” Craig reminded him.
“So he is. But he’s known. His face is known. The thing is, of course, that he does use people.”
“Exactly. He may well be deep in Mexico now, on an island somewhere—or headed for the Rockies. No one knows with a man like that.”
“True,” Nick said. “There was just something about him and that treasure. He was obsessed, like an addict. He still means to get that treasure somehow.”
“Well, Jason Tiger and the local Miccosukee police as well as the FBI and city and county police are still on it.”
“Yes,” Nick murmured. “Good people. And still...I don’t feel right. I don’t feel that we should be turning it over now. You and me—we followed Nathan Appleby all the way down the east coast. I was the one chosen to go undercover.”
“Something that is completely blown now, of course—albeit in the best way.”
“Yes. It doesn’t feel right, though.”
“And we’re due on a plane back to New York tomorrow. It’s over for us. I thought you’d be glad. I know that you didn’t mind and accepted the undercover—but, it’s also damned good to get out of it.”
“I am ready, I don’t mind doing what’s needed, but you’re right—there’s a time you’re ready for out. There’s always the point where you may have to give yourself away or commit a criminal act. And then you have guys like Nathan Appleby—guys who kidnap kids and don’t give a damn if they live or die, as long as the act gives them their leverage. I am glad it’s over. I just wanted it to be over with Nathan Appleby behind bars.”
“We don’t win every time. We try our best. That’s what we do.”
Nick stood and grinned at Craig. “Tomorrow, hmm. What time?”
“Plane leaves at 11:00 a.m.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And tonight?”
“Tonight...I want to stop by and see a girl. I want to pretend that months and months haven’t gone by and that I just saw her say hi to you and smile at me as she left a restaurant.”
“And?”
Nick laughed softly. “And, hopefully, I’m going on a date.”
Chapter Nine
An iconic pop singer died. An earthquake rattled Central America. A boatload of refugees made landfall just south of Homestead, and a rising politician threw his hat into the ring for a vacated senate seat.
Given all that, the news about the assault on the historic mansion on Crystal Island at last died down.
Kody had spent hours with her folks, assuring them she was fine. She had made arrangements for them to fly to New York when the show opened, and she’d told them about her apartment, her part-time job and her friends, especially the Finnegans. She told them about the four siblings who owned the pub. How Declan was the boss and Kieran was a clinical psychologist and therapist who often worked with the police and the FBI. How Danny was a super tour guide and would take them around and, as they knew, Kevin was an actor.
It was all good.
She went back out to the mansion. She and her co-workers and friends who had been taken hostage hugged and cried and did all the things that survivors did. She was somewhat surprised to discover that none of them was leaving.
“I just don’t see it happening again,” Vince said.
“You don’t give in to violence,” Stacey Carlson told her.
Nan Masters, his supportive assistant, as always, smiled. “Stacey does not give in. He hires more security. That’s the way we roll.”
Jose was still in the hospital, but doing well.
Brandi was fine, as well—traumatized, but fine.
Kody felt relieved and almost happy when she left them. Everything was perfect.
She’d called Craig; he’d assured her that Nick Connolly was fine. They were all disappointed, of course, that they hadn’t been able to find Nathan Appleby.
Her parents were still at a board meeting, seeing to the trust, when Kody came back from the mansion and turned on the news.
Yes. The story had already fallen to the back burner.
The doorbell rang as she was staring at the television.
When she looked through the peephole, her heart skipped a beat. It was Nick.
She instantly thrust the door open.
“Hey! You’re supposed to be cautious!” he began.
He was barely able to speak. She threw her arms around him, holding him fiercely.
“Um, cautious...or not!” he said, looking down into her eyes, half detangling
himself and half sweeping her closer. And he just looked at her and then his mouth touched down on hers and he kissed her.
Her mouth parted and she tasted the sweet heat of his lips and tongue. The warmth swept into her limbs, magical and wonderful, and causing her to tremble. He lifted his mouth from hers, searching out her eyes.
“You’re okay,” she said as if she needed him to confirm it.
“Yes. And you?”
“Absolutely fine, thank you. I... You’re here. Thank you. I mean, thank you for knowing that I would be worried about you. And thank you for letting me know that you’re okay.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” he said. “Although I’m grateful to know that you were worried.”
“Of course,” she murmured. “So, why are you here?”
“Ah, yes. Well, you’re not being held by a demonic kidnapper anymore. I’m not working undercover. In fact, I’m free until tomorrow, when I fly back to New York. I’m here to ask you to dinner. This is your family home, though, I understand. Should I ask your folks, too?”
“No! Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love them dearly. But I don’t need their approval to tell you this. I would love to go to dinner with you. That would be great. Where should we go?”
“I’m staying at the Legend, the new place on the bay. They have a chef who just won the grand prize on a reality show,” he said with a rueful smile. “Want to try it?”
“Yes. Give me one minute.” She started into the house, leaving him on the steps, then went back to invite him in. Gathering her wits, she ran to the kitchen counter to leave a note for her parents so they wouldn’t worry, grabbed her purse and headed back. He smiled, watching her.
“What?” she asked.
“I was nervous coming here to ask you out, and I can see you’re nervous, too. But we shouldn’t be so nervous. We know each other, right? We slept together—kind of—in a hut.”
“Yes...but it’s different now, huh?”
He offered her his arm. She took it and then headed down the walk to his rental car, a black Subaru. He opened the door for her; she slid in.
“They still haven’t found Dillinger—Nathan Appleby?” she asked.
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