The Seductive Impostor

by Janet Chapman

  “Jason,” Kee barked, pivoting toward him. “Check that list Luke gave you, and find out which of the names live in any town east of Fisherman’s Reach. Peter, you take Mikaela on board the Six-to-One Odds, and get her out to sea. Matt, go up to the house and send Franny and the others home, call an ambulance and the coast guard, then help Jason.”

  “Daddy!” Mikaela cried, reaching out against Peter’s hold.

  Kee took a calming breath and cupped Mikaela’s face in his hands. “I need your help, pumpkin,” he said gently. “You have to steer the Six-to-One Odds because Ahab can’t go out with you now. Rachel and Willow and Luke had a boat accident, and I have to go find them. But I need you to steer the schooner and follow Peter’s directions. Can you do that?”

  “If Peter gives me the numbers, I can steer.” Her face suddenly fell. “I broke the compass, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “You know port from starboard. Peter will call out, and you’ll steer. The crew is cut in half, and we need your help.”

  “Are we gonna go look for Luke?”

  “No, baby. You’re going to sea and wait until I call you.”

  “Mickey can look for Luke. He can smell him.”

  Kee kissed her on the nose and nodded. “Mickey can help me. He’s got a good nose and good eyes.”

  He kissed her again, then nodded to Peter to head down the ramp and get aboard the schooner. Jason and Matt were already running up the path to Sub Rosa, and Duncan was now holding the binoculars up to his eyes, watching the retreating lobster boat and then scanning back toward the kayaks.

  “They might not find him,” Duncan said softly, lowering the glasses and looking at Kee.

  “They’ll find him,” Kee growled. “The bastard has more lives than a cat.”

  They stood side by side with Mickey sitting between them, silent sentinels waiting and watching and growing impatient, helpless to do anything until they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

  Kee had learned a long time ago that waiting might be the hardest thing to stomach, but it was better than rushing in without direction or purpose. The odds were good it was Raoul Vegas who had taken Willow and Rachel. The moment Rachel had given Kee his name last Sunday, he had realized just how dangerous the situation had become.

  He’d been minutes away then from packing Rachel and Mikaela aboard the Six-to-One Odds and shipping them out, but in his arrogance, and after discussing it with his men, he’d thought they had everything under control. Raoul Vegas was after the art hidden in Sub Rosa, and as long as the women were tucked away safely at Rachel’s, Vegas shouldn’t have been a threat to them.

  But Mary Alder’s death had put the smuggler at a disadvantage. He’d been using Mary to help him through the maze of tunnels, and with her dead, he needed Rachel now. Willow was the most likely leverage to gain her cooperation.

  They’d crossed paths with Vegas before, if only indirectly. Vegas had stolen a Renoir from a museum in Italy, but had botched the job, killing a guard and wounding the curator. The curator’s daughter had been taken hostage for their run out of the country.

  Kee and his men had found the girl, who was only nineteen, in Brazil. When Vegas hadn’t needed her anymore, he’d sold her to a warlord deep in the Amazon.

  Kee had stolen her back, and the warlord wouldn’t be buying any more women for his amusement. The Renoir and Vegas, however, had gotten away clean.

  “Tell me what ya’re thinking,” Duncan said, lowering the binoculars to look at Kee.

  “I’m thinking we don’t belong in this game anymore,” he said softly. “When we reach the point we can’t even protect what’s ours, we sure as hell have no business involving innocent people.”

  Duncan sighed, scratching his chest and then raising the glasses again. “We had no reason to believe Vegas would go after Rachel.”

  Kee stopped watching the launch, which had just circled one of the kayaks and was heading to another one, and turned to look at Duncan. “We should have seen it coming. Vegas is after the Cup of Virtue, and Rachel is the only one who can help him find it. It’s common knowledge she knows that mansion like the back of her hand. Vegas has obviously been living here, posing as a lobsterman and making forays into Sub Rosa for years now.”

  “Then why hadn’t he taken Rachel before this?” Duncan asked, still looking through the binoculars.

  “Mary Alder,” Kee said succinctly. “He had her help until last week. She must have convinced him she could help him better than Rachel could. And she did, until he killed her.”

  “Aye,” Duncan said softly, lowering the glasses and looking at Kee. “We don’t belong in this game anymore.”

  The Six-to-One Odds was moving west under diesel power, already about two miles out. The mainsail was just being unfurled, and Kee took the binoculars from Duncan and looked at his schooner and smiled. His little girl was standing at the wheel, which was taller than she was, her attention focused on Peter. Kee could actually picture her beautiful little face, her bottom lip stuck out in concentration, her wispy locks blowing in the sea breeze as she executed her duties with the determination of a lion cub.

  Kee turned his gaze to the launch and stiffened. “They have Luke,” he growled. “Ahab just went into the water.”

  Duncan shifted nervously. “Can ya tell if he’s alive?”

  “No.”

  Jason and Matthew came running down the path from the mansion. “Raymond Bishop in Trunk Harbor or Paul Bean in Maplehead,” Jason said as he came to a stop beside them. “Do they have him?” he asked, looking toward the launch.

  “They have him,” Kee answered, lifting the glasses again. “But he’s not moving.”

  The beat of chopper blades moved in from the west at the same time as a siren sounded up on the road. The coast guard and an ambulance had arrived.

  “Jason, call Peter on the Six-to-One Odds and have him radio the chopper and let them know what’s happening. Have him tell them it was a hit-and-run, and send them after the lobster boat. Maybe they can find out its destination.”

  “Do you have any idea how many boats are out there?” Jason asked, taking out his cell phone. “The coast guard won’t know which one they’re looking for.”

  “It’s a long shot,” Kee admitted. “But it’s better than nothing. Matthew, guide the paramedics down here.”

  “I already opened the gate,” Matt said, turning back to the mansion.

  Kee held up the glasses again to see Ahab cradling Luke, waving a thumb in the air as the launch sped toward shore.

  “He’s alive,” Kee said, breaking into a relieved smile as he nodded to Jason and Duncan.

  Jason turned away to hear Peter on the cell phone, and Kee listened as Jason gave his instructions. The coast guard chopper hovered over the kayaks, then moved over the launch, taking in the situation.

  “Tell them everyone’s out of the water,” Kee told Jason, who relayed that message to Peter, which Peter would then relay on the marine radio.

  The chopper hovered another minute, then banked east and took off in that direction, the sound of its powerful rotor blades quickly fading into the distance.

  Jason and Duncan and Kee trotted down the long ramp to the large floating platform, Jason bending to catch the nose of the launch as it docked.

  Duncan lifted Luke off Ahab’s lap. He handed him over to Kee and Jason, and they laid him out on the dock. Duncan tore open Luke’s shirt, then pulled down his pants.

  “Two shots,” he said. “One in the thigh and the other in his side.” He rolled him slightly, then took off his own shirt and held it tightly against Luke’s side. “Both bullets are still in him. This one may have nicked a rib.”

  Kee stopped Mickey from washing Luke’s face, replacing the wolf’s tongue with his own hands. “Open your eyes, Luke,” he demanded. “Look at me.”

  Luke’s eyelids flickered, then slowly opened to mere slits, his mouth turning up in a slight, drunken grin. “It took you guys long enough,” he whispere
d weakly. “I thought I’d freeze to death before I bled out.”

  “Give me something, Luke,” Kee said softly. “Anything.”

  “Finders Keepers,” he whispered, shivering, and closed his eyes again. “Out of Trunk Harbor.”

  Kee ran a gentle hand over Luke’s forehead, brushing his wet hair out of his face. “Good man,” he told him. “Good man.”

  The paramedics came down the ramp with their equipment. Kee moved out of the way, reaching out to help Ahab climb onto the dock. He patted the wet, shivering man on the back. “How was your swim?” he asked, walking with him up the ramp.

  Once at the top, Ahab turned and looked out to sea. “Who stole my boat?” he growled.

  “Peter,” Kee told him. “Mikaela’s steering.”

  Ahab headed back down the ramp. “Untie that damn launch!” he shouted to his crewman. “We got a boat to catch before those idiots run her aground.”

  Duncan and Jason came up the ramp and turned to watch the paramedics working on Luke. Matthew was standing over them, flinching every time one of them poked something into their friend and glaring every time Luke groaned.

  “Any ideas?” Kee asked the two men beside him.

  “I’ll go after Willow,” Duncan suggested, looking Kee in the eye. “While you and Jason and Mickey wait for Vegas and Rachel.”

  “So we’ve decided it’s Vegas?” Jason asked. “And that he took Rachel to help get him into Sub Rosa?”

  Kee nodded. “Willow’s his leverage.”

  Jason scanned the horizon. “It’ll be dark in about an hour.” He looked at Duncan. “Can you have Willow by then?”

  “How far is Trunk Harbor?”

  “Twelve miles up the coast,” Jason told him. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and read something on it. “Raymond Bishop lives at Twenty-four Drew Lane.” He held the paper out to Duncan. “I downloaded this map when I did the Internet search.”

  Duncan studied the map. “Drew Lane runs down to a cove where he could moor his boat.” He looked at Kee. “He might leave Willow alone if there’s only two of them. I’ll call as soon as I find out and let you know the number of guests to expect.”

  That said, Duncan turned and ran up the wide cobblestone path to Sub Rosa. Matthew came up the ramp from the dock, helping the paramedics wheel Luke up. Deputy sheriff Larry Jenkins arrived just in time to stop them and peer down at Luke.

  “Boating accident?” he asked.

  “Gunshots. Two,” one of the paramedics said, pushing Luke past the stunned sheriff.

  Jenkins turned to Kee. “What the hell happened here?” he asked, pulling out his notepad. “I was told this was a boating accident.”

  Kee looked Jenkins in the eye. “A lobster boat ran down our friend and started shooting at him. We don’t know why, and we don’t know who.”

  “Anyone else involved?” Jenkins asked.

  Kee shook his head. “Luke was alone. But he was conscious when they brought him in. If you go to the hospital, you might get something from him.”

  Jenkins narrowed his eyes at Kee. “Is Rachel around?”

  “She’s home,” Kee said, turning toward the cliff path. “Watching my daughter. I’m going to tell them what happened and then I’m headed to the hospital.” He stopped and looked back at Jenkins. “Matt went in the ambulance with Luke. He knows as much as we do,” he added, turning again and heading along the path. “Jason, bring the car to Rachel’s.”

  Jenkins called his name, but Kee kept walking, eventually breaking into a jog. Jason would escort the deputy to his squad car and then meet Kee back in Sub Rosa’s tunnel.

  The last thing any of them needed was help from the local law. Jenkins seemed to be a good man, but dammit, Rachel’s life hung in the balance and Kee wasn’t about to let anything or anyone get in his way.

  He stopped at the entrance to the cliff tunnel and turned and looked back out to sea, taking a deep breath and willing his pounding heart to calm down.

  God, he should be shot for being so stupid.

  This was it. He was done. Just as soon as he got this mess cleaned up, he was settling down with Rachel and Mikaela, here in Puffin Harbor, and opening a lobster stand or something.

  Jason emerged from the tunnel five minutes later and quietly stood beside Kee. Together they watched the Six-to-One Odds, under full sail now, disappear around a large point of land.

  Kee spotted the small launch returning, breaking through the waves and sending sea spray over its lone passenger.

  Jason chuckled. “Peter isn’t about to miss any of the fun.”

  Kee pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called the ship’s phone. Mikaela picked up on the first ring.

  “Daddy!”

  “Ahab told you we found Luke, sweetheart. He’s going to be okay. But he is banged up a bit and had to go to the hospital. I’ll take you in to see him tomorrow.”

  “Can I come back now? Did you find Rachel and Willow?”

  “Not yet. We’re going to go get them right now. You be good for Ahab, baby. Sleep tight.”

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes?”

  “When you find Rachel, will you tell her I love her, too?”

  Kee closed his eyes again, this time fighting for control. “That’s the first thing I’ll tell her,” he said softly.

  “I gotta go. Ahab’s hollering at the crew again. I gotta go save him. ’Bye, daddy.”

  The line went dead before Kee could respond. He softly closed his cell phone and stared at the horizon.

  “Any toys in particular you want me to dig out?” Jason asked. “Night vision? Infrared?”

  Kee watched the launch approaching the dock. “I’m thinking we should use rubber bullets,” he said, looking at Jason.

  “We don’t want to tap Vegas on the shoulder, we want to kill the bastard,” Jason snarled.

  “But we can’t risk Rachel in the process.”

  “I haven’t forgotten how to hit what I’m aiming at,” Jason countered.

  “Rubber bullets, with lethal loads for backup,” Kee ordered. “And percussion grenades.”

  Jason rubbed his hands together. “Now you’re talking,” he said, turning back to the tunnel entrance. “I’ll meet you and Peter in the foyer.”

  “Check the trip wires on your way through. I want to be able to tell which tunnels they’re using.”

  Jason stopped and looked back. “Do you think Rachel knows where the room is?”

  Kee hesitated, then shook his head. “She was telling me the truth last Sunday.”

  “Then Vegas is going to be piss-faced mad when he realizes she can’t help him.”

  “She’ll bluff him along, knowing we’ll be waiting.”

  Jason suddenly brightened. “Yeah, she will. She’s got brass,” he said, disappearing into the tunnel.

  Kee turned back to the ocean, lowering his hand to Mickey’s head and ruffling his fur. He could just make out the reflection of one of the kayaks as the sun sank into the horizon, reflecting off it every time the small boat rose on a swell.

  What a hell of a mess.

  “How’s Luke?” Peter asked, running down the path from the dock.

  “He’ll make it,” Kee assured him. “He was shot twice, once in the leg and once in the side. He lost blood, but he was talking when he left here.”

  “And Rachel and Willow?”

  “Duncan’s gone after Willow. It’s Raoul Vegas, and we’re expecting him and Rachel to arrive sometime after dark.”

  Peter simply nodded, then smiled. “Mikaela did good. She’s growing up fast.”

  “Too fast,” Kee said, turning and entering the tunnel. “We’re using rubber bullets, and lead for backup.” He looked back at Peter. “We stop Vegas here, tonight, either by catching him or killing him—I don’t give a damn which.”

  Peter whistled. “He tugged the wrong tiger’s tail this time,” he said, closing the gate behind them.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  She was right
where she had begun almost two weeks ago, except this time it wasn’t the demon of Sub Rosa’s past she had to deal with, but the demon now holding the gun at her back.

  Willow’s life depended on Rachel’s being able to lead Raoul Vegas to Thadd’s secret room and then get him safely back out with his precious Cup of Virtue without Kee’s interference. She knew the tunnels were wired, but she didn’t know how. She only understood that if they didn’t return to the house where Willow and the other man were waiting by sunrise, Willow would die.

  “The tunnels are under surveillance,” she told Vegas as she carefully opened the cliff gate. “But I don’t know how.”

  “I do,” he said, prodding her with his gun. “Mary tripped a wire when we came here last Saturday. I’ll lead the way. You stay directly behind me, and don’t touch anything, not even the walls.” He crowded past her, stopping and holding the barrel of the handgun against her cheek, his flashlight turned to illuminate their faces. “If Oakes is dead, Sub Rosa’s treasures are the least of his men’s worries. If not, then think hard before you do anything foolish. Your sister’s life depends on our returning by sunrise.”

  That said, he turned and walked down the tunnel, confident that he had her cooperation.

  “Why did you kill Mary?” Rachel asked, following along in his footsteps, hugging herself to keep from touching anything.

  “Mary was willing to help me only as long as Sub Rosa was empty. But the article in the newspaper spooked her, and she started burning the boats and anything else that might tie the Foster name to the stolen art.”

  Rachel stopped walking. “Mary was protecting us?” she asked. “But why?”

  Vegas stopped and shone the flashlight back at her, making it impossible for Rachel to see his face. “She told me only last week that she had been granting your father’s wish these last three years,” he said with a sinister chuckle. “As he sat dying on the floor of the bedroom, Frank Foster asked Mary to look out for you.”