Oh, Kyle.
Hot tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t stop them. Didn’t want to. She no longer cared about anything or anyone. With the touch of one of Becca’s long red nails against a button, her sister had taken everything from her—her chance at a normal life, her chance at love, her chance at a future. Now she had nothing. Her family’s secrets had cost her the only good thing, the only honest thing, still left in her life.
Her tears turned cold on her cheeks as the numbness coalesced into a self-destructive hatred that emerged from somewhere deep inside her, someplace she hadn’t even known existed.
Without thinking, and in one fluid movement, she launched herself at her sister, falling on top of her. The boat swerved to the right so hard it almost flipped before rocking back to the left and then to the right again, the momentum sending Genie flying backward.
“Are you crazy?” Becca screamed as she steadied the craft, slowed it down, and then stopped completely.
Genie pulled herself up from the deck and jumped on Becca again. The hate flowing through her was all-consuming. She wanted her sister to pay for what she’d done. She wanted her dead. She punched and kicked, taking as good as she got, grabbing a fistful of Becca’s hair, yanking and pulling, until suddenly, they were both hurling over the side of the craft.
The frigid Pacific water was an icy slap to her system. Genie went under, gasping, swallowing. Salt water sluiced down her throat. She choked and coughed, her throat burning. She let go of Becca and struggled against the waves as her survival instinct kicked into high gear. She started swimming back toward the boat that was idling in the water.
But the current pushed it away from her. Genie’s arms and legs burned with the exertion and the cold as she swam for the boat. The boat kept drifting farther away. If she didn’t reach it, she would die out here. She redoubled her efforts, pushing herself, but even as her muscles screamed and stiffened, she wondered what the hell was she fighting so hard for? Kyle was gone. Her mother was gone. Her father had lied to her all these years. And Becca…Becca had betrayed her the worst of all.
Genie had no one. Nothing.
And as the cold seeped into her, fighting her, luring her to give up, she thought about Cat and her beautiful children and the wonderful life she’d built for herself. If she and Becca died out here, Emerich would not stop his twisted plan. He’d go after Cat next. And there would be no one left who knew the truth, no one who could stop him. He’d destroy Cat. Her family would be devastated.
Genie couldn’t let that happen. She could give up on her own life, but she would not give up on Cat’s.
She forced herself to survive, pushing stroke after stroke, kicking as hard as she could.
She felt Becca right behind her. She had to get to the boat before Becca did, or her crazy sister would most likely drive off and leave her out here to die. The thought stunned her, but after Becca had killed Kyle without a second thought, she didn’t know who Becca was anymore. Face it, her sister was a complete stranger. Worse, she was a cold-blooded murderer.
Genie pushed herself until her arms and legs were numb and it was hard to pull in the next painful breath. Just when she was beginning to think she couldn’t go any farther, her knuckles knocked painfully against something hard. She looked up and saw the hull of the yellow boat in front of her. Thank God.
She grabbed on, grappling with the smooth surface as she swam around to the back of the boat. With a Herculean effort, she hoisted herself up onto the platform at the back of the boat. She lay there for a second, heaving, and trying desperately to catch her breath and stop the shivers wracking her body.
“Genie!”
Becca was calling her. Genie didn’t give a damn. She didn’t move. She didn’t have the energy even to turn her head. She lay there, absorbing the faint touch of warmth from the sun’s rays on her shaking body.
“Genie!” Becca called again, sounding farther away this time.
Genie took a deep, remorseless breath, and let her head fall to the side where she stared impassively across the sparkling blue expanse looking for her sister. She didn’t see her. As the sun rose higher in the sky and the wind picked up, the choppy water formed stiff white peaks on the surface of the churning sea.
“Genie!” Becca called again, her voice a faint echo. “He didn’t die.”
Genie spotted her head bobbing in the distance.
“He did die,” she muttered coldly. “You killed him, you sorry bitch.”
“He’s alive, Genie! Reach for him.”
Reach for him. Genie smirked. What kind of bullshit game was her sister playing now? She didn’t move.
Becca was swimming again. Genie could see her coming closer. But not close enough. Too bad, bitch.
“I gave you the drug, Genie. Reach!”
She frowned. What drug? Genie forced herself to sit up. Becca was still a good forty feet from her, and visibly exhausted. And she was coughing.
Good. Maybe she’d stop shouting so Genie could think.
She lay back down and thought of the warm tea. And the dizziness. Had Becca really drugged her? Genie wouldn’t be surprised.
But…could Kyle really still be alive? The thought nagged at her. No, the boat exploded. Nothing could have survived that. And yet…was it possible?
Hope snagged her and wouldn’t let go. She pushed it away, refusing to let herself fall victim to another one of Becca’s twisted games.
But she couldn’t help thinking of him, even as the tears rushed to her raw and burning eyes, breaking through the numbness that had stolen through her so completely. She pictured his confident, cocky smile. His startling blue eyes, so dark and brilliant they always seemed to be looking deeply into her soul—seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and what move she would make next.
Kyle.
His warm, strong hands that always found their way to her skin, offering comfort, pleasure, love. He was always touching her, connecting… He’d been the love of her life, and she’d walked away from him again. Lost him. This time for good.
“Oh, Kyle.” His name played on her lips, torturing her with regrets.
But then it wasn’t his face she was seeing, not his smile, not his beautiful eyes. It was…Johnny? Right there, sitting across from her, his hair whipping in the breeze, the ocean flashing by behind him.
Whoa! Genie quickly sat up.
Johnny was in a boat, speeding across the sea. And her father was there, too. And Cameron.
“What the hell?”
Genie got to her knees and climbed around the engine compartment into the boat. Standing precariously on a seat, she searched the horizon. But saw nothing. It had been like they were right there in front of her. But there was no one for as far as the eye could see.
“What the hell was that?” she yelled to Becca. “What did I see?”
Becca didn’t answer.
Genie tried again, reaching for Kyle, but the vision didn’t come. “Bloody hell.” Was she losing it? Or…
“Becca!” Genie yelled, suddenly furious. Why hadn’t she said something before? Why let her believe Kyle was dead? She was just like their damned father. Never telling her what she needed to know.
Genie scanned the waves, looking for her sister’s bobbing form. She couldn’t see her.
Still standing on the seat, she continued to search the water. “Dammit, Becca. Where are you?” She climbed behind the wheel and pushed down on the throttle, swinging the boat back around. If Kyle was alive, if somehow this mystery drug allowed her to see him, to see where he was and what he was doing, then she needed to know more about it. A lot more.
“You better not die on me, Becca!”
…
Genie drove the boat to where she’d last seen Becca, and turned off the ignition. She yelled and searched. At first she saw nothing but miles of an endless choppy blue sea, but then about ten feet away, she caught a glimpse of a pale face. Relief mushroomed inside her but was short lived. Becca was lying on
her back, floating, looking barely conscious. Genie dropped down into the driver’s chair, turned the boat back on, and eased it toward her sister. When she was only a few feet away, she turned the boat off and dove back into the frigid ocean.
She reached Becca, grabbed her with one arm around her neck and shoulder, and swam, towing her toward the boat. “Come on, Becca,” she said, pulling a labored breath into her frozen lungs. Her battered body was shutting down in the all-consuming cold, making it almost impossible to swim. “Help me out a little here.”
She needed her sister to make sense of all this—to get back to Kyle.
But Becca wasn’t moving. Fear coalesced in Genie’s stomach, turning it into knots. Becca wasn’t dead. She was just…numb. She had to be. She couldn’t have killed her sister… Genie made it to the boat, pulled and pushed, and miraculously managed to get her sister up onto the platform. She stayed there for a long moment, clinging onto the lip of the platform trying to garner the strength to pull herself up, too.
Drawing in a deep breath, with her last ounce of energy, Genie climbed back up onto the boat next to Becca. She rolled her ear to Becca’s chest. Heartbeat was thready. Breathing shallow. Or was that her own? After several minutes, Genie crawled inside the boat and started pulling up seat cushions. She found a stack of thick Egyptian cotton towels, dragged herself back with them, and wrapped the fabric around Becca’s blue body. She then collapsed on top of her, waiting for the warmth to seep into both their bones.
Finally, Becca started to cough. Water trickled out of her mouth. Genie rolled off her, turned her on her side, and waited. After a few endless minutes, Becca pulled herself up. Still groggy, she shook her head as though to clear it, and glared at Genie. “You didn’t have to try and kill me.”
Genie wasn’t so sure. “Is Kyle alive?”
“Yes,” Becca coughed again, raw and raspy.
“How do you know?”
“I can see him. So can you, if you try hard enough.”
“How?”
“It’s the drug Emerich’s scientists have been working on. It allows me to see through the eyes of the person I’m connected to. Not for long, but long enough to catch glimpses. It’s how I knew Kyle had seen the bomb. That he had enough time to get off the yacht.”
Genie wanted to believe her. More than anything. “Why would Emerich want you to be able to do that?”
“Think about it, Genie.” She was giving her that irritating look again. And then she started coughing once more, her voice harsh and gurgling. “You can’t be that naïve.”
Genie fought the urge to push her back in the water. “What does Daddy have to do with any of this?”
Becca pushed out an impatient breath. “I told you. I wanted him to know that I knew what he’d done to mother, and I wanted you and Cat to know what he’d done, too.”
Wordlessly, Genie climbed with shaking limbs back into the boat and into the driver’s seat. She started the engine.
“Where are we going?” Becca asked, unsteadily following her.
“To find Kyle and Cameron. They should be back at the dock by Daddy’s fishing cabin.”
“You can’t do that,” Becca said in alarm.
“Why not?”
“Because, Genie, then Emerich will know that I failed. I need to bring you to him.”
Genie’s mouth dropped open. “Are you nuts? You want me to just walk into the spider’s web? No way.”
“We have to, Genie. It’s the only way to stop him.”
Genie narrowed her eyes at her. “Stop him? I thought he was a genius? A misunderstood artist?”
“He is.” Becca sighed. “He’s also a complete sociopath, determined to destroy our family.”
Well, there was something new. The attitude, not the information. Genie regarded her sister. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”
“Because I needed you to come with me. I need you on board with this.”
Genie sucked in a deep breath willing herself to stay calm and not wrap her hands around her sister’s scrawny neck and throttle her. “Fine, I’ll play. Why does he want to destroy us?”
“Because Daddy killed his father.”
Genie blinked. Mind reeling, she turned off the ignition and took a deep breath. “I think you better tell me everything.”
“On one condition.”
Genie bit down on her lower lip and summoned the saint of patience.
“You are going to have to convince Emerich that you know nothing. That you are furious at me for kidnapping you and faking your death. Can you do that?”
“Really, Becca? I’m a CTA agent. Undercover work is my specialty. You would know that if you’d bothered to learn anything about me at all.”
“That’s unfair. Sean was the one who went after you and Cat. I had to play along to protect you. It’s why I sent you Mama’s necklace. That’s got to count for something.”
“I knew you sent it! Why?”
“Sean needed to get John into your house, to make sure what I told him was accurate. That you were alone and undefended.”
“Yeah, only they hadn’t counted on Kyle,” Genie muttered.
“No. But I did. Who do you think orchestrated the chatter that I knew Cameron’s people would pick up?”
“Which led your thugs straight to Cat.”
“And to you. I had to prove to Sean that I’m on his team. That he can count on me. I sent the necklace because I knew you would go into high alert and go after Daddy. But saving Cat like you did? Well, that was pure genius.”
Genie smiled humorlessly. “Thank you.”
“Though I kind of wanted her here, too.”
“Not gonna happen,” Genie assured her.
“I can’t stop Emerich on my own. He will kill Daddy. And he’s going to lock us up—you, me and Cat. He thinks I don’t suspect, but I can see his thoughts clearer than anyone’s. I know what he’s planning for us and it isn’t pretty. He scares me, Genie. He’s obsessed with finishing his father’s work and getting revenge on our family.”
“Wait. His father’s work?”
“His dad, Tom Garrison, was the head scientist working with Dad on the Amelia Project.”
“And?”
“His father gave Mom fertility drugs while she was on his protocol. He created us, Genie. When we were twelve, he came to Mom and told her the truth. He wanted to start testing us, too. She said no.”
“And then she died?”
“Trying to protect us. Rushing home to tell Dad what he was planning.”
The last piece of the puzzle fell into place. At last she understood. “And that’s why Dad sent us away.”
She nodded. “After he killed Emerich’s father.”
A bit like shutting the barn door after the horse escaped, but there was no accounting for a grief-stricken mind. Especially in the director of a top-secret spy organization who was prone to paranoia in the first place.
But she was still wary of Becca’s motives. “Why should I believe you now? Why try to blame Dad?”
“He knew Mom was pregnant, yet he let her stay in the program. That made him just as guilty as if he’d given her the drugs himself. If I’d confronted him he’d just lie, make up excuses as he’s always done. I wanted the whole truth and I wanted all of us to confront him with it.”
“And Sean Emerich? Knowing what you did, how could you stand to be involved with him?”
Becca glanced away. “I didn’t, at first. He went to great lengths to find me again and worm his way back into my life. I took part in his experiments thinking we were working together. That we were going to accomplish great things. It wasn’t until after they finally stumbled across a drug cocktail that worked that I discovered his real motivation.”
“Why not tell me all this before? I could have helped you before this got completely out of hand.”
“I had to make sure you didn’t give the game away. I’ve worked too hard to get us here.”
“Us?” Genie looked at
her. Waiting.
“Soon Emerich will have what he’s been searching for more than fourteen years.”
She was getting tired of the riddles. “Which is?”
“Revenge on the Marsters. On all of us.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m taking Kyle back to the mainland with us,” Cameron said as they pulled the boat up to the dock on the far side of the island. “You should come with us, Marsters.”
Kyle stared out at the ocean while covertly tracking everyone’s movements in the boat. Someone here knew what was happening, where Genie and Becca went, and what the hell was really going on. And his bets were on the old man.
“I’m going back to my house,” Marsters said.
Big surprise, Kyle thought.
“I’m putting it on record that you’ve been advised against it,” Cameron said. “You need to come with us. You need protection.”
“I need to go home and mourn my daughter.”
Daughters. Kyle wanted to correct him, but why bother? It didn’t matter. Neither one of them was dead. Yet.
“I called the Coast Guard and gave them the coordinates to the wreckage,” Cameron stated. “We should have a report shortly.”
Marsters jumped onto the dock and went across to his boat. “I’ll be at my house if you need me.” Then he drove away without a backward glance.
“That guy is hiding something,” Johnny said as the boat disappeared around the end of the island.
Cameron took out his phone and ordered, “I want Marsters’ house monitored.” He disconnected the call then turned to Kyle. “All right, I want to hear everything.”
Kyle stared mutely at him. He didn’t know where to start. How much he should say.
“Let’s go, Johnny,” Cameron said, his tone filled with disgust. He probably thought Kyle was in shock. Which, in a way, he was.
Johnny drove the boat out into deep water, circling the island back toward the estate, but going in the opposite direction as Marsters. Instead of heading back to the mainland as Kyle had expected, Johnny pulled up next to a 36-foot trawler.
A couple of CTA men appeared on the stern and threw Cameron a line. He quickly tied the boat up to the larger vessel and Kyle followed him onboard. As they walked into the main salon, he was surprised to find the space filled with electronic equipment and men sitting at stations monitoring audio and video feeds.
Deadly Secrets, Loving Lies Page 18