The Island

by Heather Graham

  “Turn around and hold still,” he warned her.

  The door to the cabin opened. The light was turned on again. They both winced against it. “Get up and behave,” Sandy said. “We’re taking you ashore. If you’re good, we’ll leave you alive and well on the island. Maybe we’ll even leave you a little water. But move now. We’ve got to hurry.”

  Keith gave a pretense of struggling to his feet, giving Beth time to grasp her wrist bonds with her fingers, so no one would suspect she was free. She rose carefully, face forward, and stood in front of Keith. Sandy led them past Brad, who was in the main cabin, his gun on them.

  They got into the tender, carefully.

  Sandy took the gun. Brad rowed. They were all silent. Then Sandy said, “There’s a boat coming…a big one, Brad.”

  “Nice? You think we can take her?” he asked.

  “I think we need to find the money fast and get the hell out of here!” Sandy said.

  They beached. Awkwardly, Keith and Beth got out. Brad turned on a flashlight. The moon was high in the sky, but not bright enough to light the interior.

  “Let’s move,” Brad said.

  “The boat is still coming. Hurry,” Sandy urged.

  They started walking. Apparently Keith wasn’t moving fast enough, because Brad prodded him forward.

  “Eduardo Shea is under arrest, you know,” Keith said over his shoulder.

  “Good. I hope he rots.”

  “The police are looking for you, along with the FBI.”

  “We have plenty of places to go in South America,” Brad assured him. “Move.”

  They reached the center of the island. Sandy ran ahead and started kicking palm fronds around. “Do you think the bastard stiffed us?” she wailed in dismay. “Help me, Brad. We’ve got to hurry.”

  Brad swore and headed across the clearing. “Stop running around like a headless chicken. Organize what you’re doing. I’ll come from the east, you start from the west.”

  In a minute the two of them were intent on their quest. Beth stared at Keith. He nodded to her, then inclined his head toward the west. She frowned, then understood.

  Someone else was coming. Brad and Sandy were so intent on their quest that they hadn’t heard the stealthy movement through the brush.

  “Now,” Keith mouthed, and he and Beth moved furtively, heading toward the barely discernible trail through the western foliage. Then they began to run.

  “Hey!” Sandy shouted.

  There was the sound of a gunshot. A bullet whizzed by Beth’s head, so close that she felt the rush.

  Brad hadn’t been the one to fire, though. The bullet had come from the other direction. Beth kept running, tearing into the brush.

  “Get down!” Keith warned her.

  Brad screamed in agony after a second bullet burst loudly in the night. Sandy let out a horrible howling sound.

  “What the hell are you doing?” someone shouted.

  In the brush, blind, Beth nearly collided with Keith. Her hands were free, though, and she steadied herself, then started working on the ties at his wrists. She fell to her knees, tugging at the ropes, her heart thundering as she listened to the events in the clearing, far too close behind them.

  She glanced up. She could see that Keith was tense, listening, and she suddenly realized that the man who had spoken was Matt Albright.

  “Where are they?” another voice demanded.

  Sandy sounded hysterical. “They’re alive, I swear. You shot him! You shot Brad. My God, you’ve killed him!”

  “Where are they?” Lee repeated. Then Sandy screamed.

  Beth didn’t want to think about what had happened to her.

  “Dammit, Lee,” Matt protested again.

  “They took Keith, Beth and the girl,” Lee said.

  “They ran,” Sandy cried, barely coherent. “They ran…except the girl…Keith got her off the boat. I don’t know how.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Keith?” Lee shouted. “Where the hell are you?”

  Beth was certain he would step forward. He didn’t. Instead, he looked down at her and shook his head. “No,” he mouthed in the moonlight.

  They crept closer, close enough to see what was happening in the clearing.

  “Lee?” Matt said.

  Lee spun on him suddenly. Raised the gun.

  “What are you doing?” Matt asked, stunned.

  The direction of the muzzle moved. Lowered onto Amanda Mason. “You just had to bring her on the boat, didn’t you, Matt? Now I’ve got to kill her, too, and Hank isn’t going to like it. I think it better look as if you killed her.”

  Beth’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  It was then that Keith moved. Like a shot in the dark, he catapulted himself out of the trees, slamming against Lee’s back before the man could turn.

  The two of them went down. Beth saw the gun go flying.

  The fight was bitter. She saw Matt running to get in the midst of it. She saw the other two men rolling, fists flying viciously.

  Beth rose, hurrying to the edge of the clearing to hide in the thick foliage. Just as she got there, Keith emerged victorious, straddling Lee Gomez.

  But then another shot blazed through the night. Hank Mason came striding through the clearing, followed by Roger. Hank strode closer, aiming the gun at Keith’s chest. Keith was breathing hard, his features stony. “Get up,” Hank ordered crisply. He looked around. Brad lay dead. Sandy was bloodied and still sobbing silently. “Get up.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get up. But I wouldn’t trust him anymore. He was going to kill Amanda,” Keith said.

  “Like hell,” Hank said.

  “Daddy!” Amanda cried, seeing Roger. She raced over to him, and Roger stopped, uncertain. “What the hell is she doing here?” he demanded.

  Lee stared up at Keith venomously. “She was on the boat,” he said. “I had no intention of killing your daughter, Roger. Now get him off me!”

  Hank didn’t seem to give a damn about his cousin. He coldly eyed Keith, who rose slowly. Lee rose, as well, swinging a hard punch, belting Keith squarely in the midriff.

  “Hey!” Amanda protested. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Roger demanded. He turned to Lee. “Well?”

  “I saw Sandy and Brad taking off with our very own Jacques Cousteau here,” Lee said, wiping blood from his mouth. “It seemed like the opportune time to do away with him and let the sea thieves take the rap. Should have been perfect.”

  “I still don’t get it,” Amanda said plaintively.

  “Allow me to explain, Amanda,” Keith said. “Brad and Sandy were working for Eduardo Shea, who had something more than dancing going on. He led them to the Monocos’ boat, but they didn’t kill Ted and Molly. And they didn’t kill a good friend of mine, a great kid named Brandon. Nor did they kill a young diver who stumbled on something here recently. Brad didn’t even know why those people died. But your father, Lee and Hank do. Hey, is Gerald in on this?”

  “What do you care? You’re a dead man,” Lee told him.

  “So humor me,” Keith said.

  “No, Gerald just comes around sometimes, and since he’s innocent, he makes us all look good,” Hank said.

  Amanda gasped, staring at her father. “You…you pushed me into sleeping with Matt and exploring the boat because…”

  “Your father is a pimp, Amanda,” Keith said softly.

  Roger stared at him coldly. “And you’re a dead man. Hank, do it.”

  “Daddy!” Amanda cried in astonishment.

  “Wait,” Lee commanded sharply. “Beth Anderson is out there somewhere.” He gritted his teeth. “That bitch stumbled on good old Ted’s skull. I’d gotten rid of the rest of the rotting corpses when they washed ashore, but I hadn’t been able to find that damn skull.” He looked at Keith, shaking his head. “And that got you going, didn’t it?”

  “Actually, Mike has been suspicious for quite
a while. After all, someone knew where Brandon was and killed him. It was you, you sorry bastard. You killed that great kid, just so you and your buddies could have the treasure all for yourselves.”

  Flat in the palm fronds now, lying dead still, Beth held her breath.

  “Are you sure you know where to find it now?” Roger asked suddenly. He pointed at Keith. “He’s the one who—”

  “Found a coin. I know,” Lee snapped. “I can take it from there.”

  “He can’t dive worth shit,” Keith said. Beth gazed across the clearing as Lee took another swing at Keith. Matt had been backing up, unnoticed. Now he saw her. He looked ill. He was unarmed, she knew, and he was stunned by the recent events.

  Lee’s gun was just inches away. She stretched her fingers, her arms, silently, desperately.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Lee told Keith.

  “We need to find Beth Anderson,” Roger reminded him.

  “And you think he’s going to go get her for us?” Lee mocked.

  Hank took aim. But Keith was lightning fast. He grabbed Lee and thrust the man in front of him just before the bullet exploded.

  In the confusion, Beth reached for Lee’s gun. Matt raced forward, tackling Roger Mason’s legs as the man fired off a round. Roger spun, noticing Beth, and tried to take aim again.

  “No, Daddy!” Amanda cried, reaching for her father’s arm.

  Her action gave Beth time to grab the gun. As Keith thrust Lee’s now-dead body forward, hard, at Hank Mason, Beth fired at last. It was a big gun, heavy; she didn’t even know what it was, and she was amazed that she could aim it. The recoil sent her sprawling into the bushes.

  But she caught Hank in the arm.

  He howled, and his gun flew. In a split second, Keith was on him. Moments later, it was over.

  Suddenly there was silence. Dead silence. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Then they heard Sandy, sobbing softly once again. Lee Gomez and Brad were dead. Hank was unconscious, and even Roger was dazed. Amanda began to cry loudly at her father’s side.

  Matt was the first one to speak. “Imagine. Amanda just came aboard to apologize, to tell me she thought she was really in love at last. With Ben Anderson.”

  “Beth!” Unbelievably, as if on cue, Beth heard her brother shouting her name.

  Her knees gave out, and she sank to the ground just as the Coast Guard came bursting into the clearing, Ben running frantically in their wake, along with a tall, hardbitten man in a camouflage suit, shouting orders.

  Her brother reached her. She looked at him. “Amber?”

  He smiled, but his smile faded as he looked around, then fell to his knees at her side. “She said you saved her life. You and Keith.” Ben dragged her into his arms. She hugged him tightly, then drew away. “Brad said that…that…he knocked you out.”

  “I’m fine.”

  They both looked over at Brad and Sandy. She was keening softly, her eyes glazed.

  Amanda was hovering over her father.

  “Oh, God,” Ben said.

  “She was innocent. She helped save our lives,” Beth said. Ben stared at her blankly. She smiled. “She’s going to need a lot of help.”

  “I already have some help,” she whispered. Ben nodded, stood and went over to Amanda. Beth smiled, feeling the hand that fell on her shoulder. She was drawn up, and strong arms came around her.

  “We made it,” he said simply.

  SOUTH FLORIDA HAD SEEN PLENTY of bizarre scandals and mysteries, and far too many stories of greed and murder. But this one dominated the media for weeks, mainly because there was more to it than Beth had known the night she nearly died because of it.

  Far more than Spanish gold had been at stake. Documents recently given to the American government by the German government told a tale she had never expected.

  The crew of a German U-boat had taken refuge on Calliope Key when their vessel had begun to fail far closer to the American coastline than the government had wanted the public to know at the time.

  The ship had carried the makings of a small atomic bomb, but they hadn’t had all the time they’d needed to assemble it. Knowing that they were in danger of being taken by the Americans, the captain had ordered the components hidden before they attempted their escape.

  Two men had been forgotten on the island. They had thought themselves dead, marooned. But their comrades had been blown up while heading north, and they had been rescued by British sailors. One of them had written a report for the German government, which had lain long forgotten in a secret vault. When it had been recently brought to light and given to the U.S., the American government hadn’t known if it was a hoax or a strange and terrible truth. And Rescue had been brought in.

  It was terrifying to know that a man like Lee Gomez had teamed up with a financier like Roger Mason to heist such a discovery. There was no telling where the bomb might have ended up, since their only concern had been the highest bidder.

  A week after the rescue, Keith and Beth were finally back together again. She’d spent days trying to tell everything to the satisfaction of the officers with the various different agencies questioning her. It had been worse for Keith, since he’d had to file reports in any number of places.

  At first, when she saw him, Beth had no desire to speak. She greeted him at her door. Whispered hello, dragged him in.

  They didn’t actually talk for hours. When they did, she asked him at last, “So what will happen now? Now that the world knows La Doña is out there, and that there’s more on her than gold?”

  He was silent for a moment, meeting her eyes. “I found the location.”

  “When?”

  “Before the party. I knew that someone in our group was on someone else’s payroll. Remember that I mentioned Brandon? He was like a kid brother to me. It was the worst waste in the world that he was murdered.” He shook his head. “I kept making the connection to Eduardo Shea, but he was small time. The Masons were using him, though, getting information. Anyway, I reported exactly what I found to Mike, with all the coordinates. Lee and Matt knew I’d discovered a coin, but they didn’t know that I’d figured out why we couldn’t find the remains of the ship.”

  “And why couldn’t you?”

  He smiled. “Hide in plain sight,” he said. “The ship had become the reef. Once you figured that out, you could begin to trace her timbers—and the cargo hold. I won’t be going down on that particular dive anymore. They’ll put other guys on it. I have some time off.”

  “I’m not sure if I do or not,” she said ruefully.

  He rolled over, staring at her. “Quit.”

  “Just like that?”

  “If they can’t give you time off for a wedding and a honeymoon, quit.”

  She fell into his arms again, smiling. “For you? Just like that,” she whispered.

  SHE WAS INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL to be alive. And so was Amber. But being grateful didn’t always make living all that easy.

  Despite surviving “Sail Into Terror!” as the newspapers had dubbed the event, Amber still had a serious dilemma.

  “I think he’s really falling in love with her,” she told Beth, horrified.

  “Well, she really did come through for us. She made a move against her own father. She helped save our lives.”

  “I’m trying not to hate her,” Amber told her. “I mean, she might be my stepmother.”

  “You both have a lot of wounds to get over. But I think she’s actually in love with your father and ready to change her ways. And you can always spend lots of time with Keith and me.”

  “I am in the wedding, right?”

  “You bet.”

  THE WEDDING FELL IN THE MIDDLE of October, on a perfect fall day. The sun was brilliant, but the air didn’t have the touch of fire that made the summer months so hot.

  Beth couldn’t have imagined anything more perfect, couldn’t have imagined feeling a greater happiness.

  They were married at the club, in a field of exquisite flow
ers. Everything was gorgeous.

  After all, she did know how to plan a good party.

  She was insanely in love with her husband, and when he looked at her, she still trembled, knowing he felt the same. They were married as the sun set in the western sky, surrounded by family and friends.

  And when the champagne had been sipped, the toasts raised and the last of their excited hugs goodbye given out…

  They chose not to sail into the sunset.

  They honeymooned in Vermont.

  ISBN: 978-1-5525-4910-0

  THE ISLAND

  Copyright © 2006 by Heather Graham Pozzessere.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.

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