by Cynthia Eden
“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.”
* * *
JILLIAN’S FINGERS CURLED around the screwdriver as she slid it into her palm. “I want you to bring Vanessa out to me.”
Theodore didn’t move. “It’s your fault.”
So he liked to keep saying.
“I had it all planned. You were going to be perfect. The new girl in town, the one that didn’t fit in. I’d never taken a girl from Hope before, too close to home, if you know what I mean.”
He’d been living in that town, for all those years...
“But you were perfect. Like a little bonus gift.”
She edged closer to him. He had the gun in his right hand, but he wasn’t aiming it at her. Just holding it by his side.
“Then you got away.” Anger roughed his voice. The boat rocked in the water. “You weren’t supposed to get away. What if you brought the police to me? I tried to be careful, tried to make sure that you didn’t see me too clearly but I was afraid...”
“And people who are afraid make terrible mistakes.” She slipped forward. “Is that what Christy was? A mistake?”
“She...she found me in the garage. I had... I had the rope and the drugs I’d used on you. Christy asked me what I was doing. Your story...it had just been on the news. My girl saw it. She stared at me and in her eyes, I knew she realized what I’d done.”
Had she, though? Had Christy put the pieces together just based on a rope? Or had this twisted killer before her snapped and taken his own daughter’s life?
He lifted his hand—the hand with the gun—and still didn’t even seem to notice he held the weapon. He slammed the back of his hand against the side of his head hitting himself hard. Punishing himself? “The urge was so strong. I had to kill, but you were supposed to be the one. Only you got away. Christy was there. Staring at me. I saw the truth in her eyes... I saw. I lunged for her and she screamed.” He hit his head again. “Christy screamed. I couldn’t let her scream.”
And he’d killed his own daughter. But he’d actually felt remorse for her death. Unlike the others. “You took her body to the beach...”
“She loved the beach,” he whispered. “Just like me. Always loved the water.”
“You covered her up. Positioned her.” All signs of remorse. Of care.
His hand fell away from his head. “It should have been you.”
The gun was pointed at her now. Great. Now he remembers the weapon.
“If you’d died, Christy would have been safe. I would never have hurt her.”
Like she believed that one. “How many girls have you hurt?”
He didn’t speak. She couldn’t see his face clearly but was he smiling?
“Hard to remember them all,” he admitted. “After Christy, I stopped. Lost so much. Lost me. The drinking numbed everything. The days slid by. I let everything go. Then Kurt came back. Made me get clean. Everything started to focus again...and then, as if right on time, you came back. I knew what I had to do. Once I kill you, I can get back the life I had.”
Jill shook her head. “That’s not going to happen.”
He put the light down on the seat near him, and that bright glow stayed locked on Jill. “No one is here to save you.”
“I’m here to save Vanessa. That was part of the deal, remember? I come here and you let her go.”
He advanced toward Jill. “Guess what, Agent West? I lied about the deal. I’m planning to kill you both. I told you... I’m getting my life back. My life. My power. My control.”
Because that was what it had always been about. Control. Dominance. “Guess what?” She threw those words back at him as Jill tightened her grip on that screwdriver. She could have tried to use her gun, but if the water had jammed the weapon, she’d lose her chance to attack. “I lied, too.”
His arm jerked and the gun’s nozzle pointed down at the deck. “What?”
“I texted Hayden and one of my contacts at the FBI.” She used her left hand to point toward the beach. “They’re all out there now.” Or, if they weren’t, they’d be there soon. “They know about you and the boat, and you’re not getting away this time. You’re going to pay for everything that you’ve done.”
“You damn—” He lifted that gun again.
But Jill was running forward. She lifted up her screwdriver and lunged for him. The gun exploded and she felt the bullet whip past her shoulder, burning into the skin as it grazed her arm.
She drove the screwdriver at him, sinking it into his shoulder. He roared his rage and lifted that gun again.
They were close, her head tipped back as she stared up at his eyes. The monster from the dark. The one who’d haunted her for so long.
She yanked the screwdriver out of him and prepared to hit him again.
He fired. This time, the bullet slammed into her side. She staggered back.
“Jill!” At that wild roar, her head whipped around. Hayden was there, pulling himself up the ladder, water pouring off him. His hands were fisted, the bright light aimed in his direction and clearly showing the rage on his face.
Her feet slipped and she tumbled down, slamming into the back of the seat.
“Just had to follow her again, didn’t you?” Theodore snarled. “Always messing things up for me...always...”
“Get away from her,” Hayden shouted.
But Theodore lifted his gun. “Time to end you, too. Shouldn’t have played hero. Not then, not now.”
“Stop!” Jill yelled. She’d yanked out the gun from her ankle holster. She pointed it at Theodore. “Drop your weapon, now!”
He laughed. “You just swam through the damn Gulf of Mexico. That weapon isn’t going to fire. You think I didn’t realize you’d have a gun with you? It’s useless. Useless. But mine isn’t.”
He was going to shoot Hayden. Not Hayden. Not Hayden. “No!” She squeezed the trigger and the damn thing didn’t fire. It just clicked. The weapon didn’t shoot—
But Theodore’s did. His weapon fired even as Hayden slammed into him. The two men staggered at the impact and then—
They fell off the side of the boat, sinking into the waves with a splash.
“Hayden!” She grabbed the light and scrambled to the side, ignoring the pain from her wound.
Had the bullet hit him before they went over? She kept one hand at her side, trying to stop the blood from pumping out and her other hand gripped the ligh
t. She swept it over the waves, searching frantically for Hayden. She put her foot on the side of the boat, ready to jump in after him, ready to do anything, risk anything for him—
Hayden’s head broke the surface.
Her breath left her in a frantic rush.
He swam toward the boat. Strong, powerful strokes. She ran to the back, dropping the light and she grabbed his arm to help pull him on board. Pain knifed through her, surging from her wound, and she bit back a ragged gasp.
Then Hayden was in front. Wet, strong, alive. Her pain didn’t matter. He’s safe.
“That bastard shot you.” Hayden put his hand on her side. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m—”
She kissed him. Fast. Hard. Wild. Wrong time, wrong place. She knew that and didn’t care. “You’re okay.” The words tumbled out, so frantic. “When you went over, I was so scared.” More scared than she’d ever been in her life. “You’re okay.”
“Jill, you’re the one who was shot.” His fingers tested her wound and he swore. “Too much blood, baby, too much. You need help.”
She needed him. And he was there. Safe. “He told me not to tell anyone. Said he’d kill Vanessa.” Vanessa. Jill glanced back at the stairs that led belowdecks. “She’s down there. We have to make sure she’s—” Her body trembled.
Hayden scooped her in his arms and carried her to the seat behind the wheel. He sat her down with gentle care. “I’ll check. You stay here.” His gaze scanned the darkness around them. “I don’t know where that jerk is. He could be at the bottom of the Gulf, he could be swimming away, or he could be coming back for us.”
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.”