Storm Warning (Assassin In Paradise Book 2)

by Jack Stroke

  “We have Joan. She’s on a boat just off Hidden Beach,” Ben read. “If you ever want to see her alive again, come unarmed and alone. You have until nine pm to comply, or Joan will be killed.”

  That gave Amber under an hour.

  She and Ben each studied the photo and reread the message, hoping to uncover a hidden clue.

  “Is this something to do with the smugglers?” Ben asked.

  “That would be my guess.”

  “I thought we’d taken care of that.”

  “I did too.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “We?”

  “Amber. There is no way I’m not helping with this. It’s Joan.”

  “I get it, but no, Ben.”

  “If you tell me this is not a game, I swear…”

  “The note says I have to come alone.”

  “So?”

  She had precious little time anyway. No time to argue.

  “Look, I get you want to help, but you’re not trained yet. I have to do this by myself.”

  His eyes hardened. She knew that expression.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. But I will.”

  Amber studied her godson. No good. He wasn’t convinced. One way or another, Ben was going to involve himself whether she liked it or not. No matter what she said.

  What was better? Him involved or going rogue? Besides, was fobbing him off making the same mistakes again? Joan had been kidnapped. There was no controlling this, no matter how much she wanted to. And an extra pair of hands could really help.

  Time to let go.

  “All right. We do this together. As a team.”

  To her surprise, Ben merely nodded. Any excitement outweighed by the concern. Joan was in danger.

  They were running out of time. Amber had to move.

  “The boat is just off Hidden Beach.”

  “That’s what the message says.”

  “It’s someone we know then,” Ben told her, handing back the note.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Hidden Beach. We’re the only ones who call it that.”

  Amber suddenly recalled this wasn’t the first note. She pulled the other out of her pocket and compared the two. Same handwriting. She showed the first one to Ben.

  “Lost something?”

  “That note came first. I wasn’t sure what it meant. It must have meant Joan.” Her mind clicked. “Grubby.”

  Ben furrowed his brow.

  “He’s got something to do with this.”

  “Bait shop Grubby?” Ben asked as if there could be another Grubby. “No way. Grubby gets, like, lost in his own store.”

  “I’m not suggesting he’s the mastermind or anything, but he’s involved. I saw him leave this on my door.” She held up the first note. “He’s been hanging around, acting suspiciously. Something isn’t right.”

  “Okay, but… you’re talking about Grubby.”

  “The guy couldn’t lie straight in bed.”

  “Maybe, but that’s just Grubs. He’s a liar. Doesn’t mean he’d hurt Joan.”

  Amber glanced at her watch. The clock was ticking.

  “Let’s just go see.”

  67

  Amber and Ben jumped back in the little hatchback even though it was only a five-minute walk to the bait shop. Colour from the television painted the walls of the upstairs room, making it clear someone was home. Amber pulled out her Sig and checked it. Force of habit. She knew it was fully loaded and good to go.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Kick the back door down and go in. Pin him to the wall and get him to talk.”

  “How about you just tell him you’re an assassin?”

  She studied her godson.

  “Kicking his door down? What if you’re wrong? There’s no, like, going back from that.”

  This is why Amber liked working alone.

  “Something is going on with him, and we don’t have the luxury of time.”

  “I agree, but if he is involved with this, Joan and whatever, would he really be here now, watching TV?”

  It was a decent point. Smart.

  “Let’s just go talk to him. It won’t be any slower than attacking him. You can always step it up if we need to.”

  Amber nodded.

  They knocked and waited and knocked again. Finally the door opened. Judging from his outfit, Grubby wasn’t expecting company.

  “Amber…” he said.

  “Hey, Grubby,” Ben said. “Can we come in?”

  “What? Both of youse?”

  Grubby appeared hesitant but let them through.

  Upstairs was a depressing living space. The furniture was all old and worn, not that you could see much beneath the dirty clothes and pizza boxes and other general mess. The stench of mould hung in the air, competing against the stale tang of tobacco and marijuana smoke.

  “What do I owe this pleasure?”Grubby said, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

  Amber still wanted to shove the odious little creep into the wall, face first and make him spill his guts, but Ben was probably correct. It wasn’t the right move.

  At the same time, he knew something. They had to get him to talk and quickly.

  “What’s going on, Grubby?”

  “Goin’ on with what?”

  “Where’s Joan?”

  He appeared to have no idea what she was on about.

  “Someone has been leaving notes on my door.”

  “Notes? What notes?”

  Amber held the first note in front of his eyes.

  “What’s this gotta do with me?”

  “You left it on at my cabin.”

  “Did not.”

  “I saw you.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Amber flashed a quick look at Ben. Grubby may be a liar, but he wasn’t this good of an actor, was he?

  Sucking in a deep breath, Amber focused on what she knew for sure.

  “You’ve been hanging around, watching my cabin. Why?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Grubby, I’ve seen you.”

  He shook his head.

  “Now would be the time to talk, Grubby. I’m serious.”

  “Nothin’ to talk about.”

  Amber couldn’t hold it in anymore. She grabbed him and twisted his arm behind his back. Enough to hurt, not enough to break it. Yet.

  “Talk.”

  He let out something between a snuffle and a gasp. Amber twisted harder.

  “Okay, okay. Yeah, I’ve been hangin’ around.”

  “Why?”

  “Vaughan. Vaughan said…”

  She let him go. “Vaughan? He said what?”

  Grubby staggered, rubbing his arm. “I thought youse were together. You and Vaughan. Everyone did.”

  “So?”

  “So, he said youse weren’t, that youse were just mates.”

  “So?” Amber said again, with zero patience.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  It wasn’t.

  “I thought maybe I was in with a chance. You know. That you and me could… You know… There’s not much chicks in Paradise Cove. Not as hot as you. Even if you are a bit old. Older.”

  “That’s… But why didn’t you… say anything?”

  “I kept tryin’ to get me nerve up to ask ya, but it’s hard, you know? You’re… sexy, but… also a bit scary. I went to knock on your door the other day, but I chickened out.”

  Amber felt vaguely sick. “Okay,” was about all she could think of to say. His eyes lit up.

  “Okay, as in yes? You want to?”

  “Want to what?”

  “Get together some time?”

  She did her best to smile. “Goodbye, Grubby. Ben, let’s go.”

  In another context, this may have been an amusing miscommunication. Neither Ben nor Amber could see the funny side at that moment. All they had done was waste time. Time that they didn’t have.

>   And they were no closer to helping Joan.

  68

  The duo drove the short distance back to Paradise by the Bay, trying to develop a new plan. Amber would have been vaguely embarrassed about the whole Grubby thing except there was no time.

  “What about Vaughan?” Ben asked when they were back in cabin six.

  “Do you think he is involved? I was wondering too.”

  Ben screwed up his face. “What? No. Not involved.”

  “He could be.”

  “He’s not.”

  Ben gave her a look she hadn’t seen before. At least not in this context. Like he doubted her. “I mean, should we see if Vaughan can help?”

  “No.”

  Except, why not Vaughan? Amber didn’t want anyone else involved or in danger. Was that it? Or was there some ulterior motive? Did she actually suspect Vaughan? Or was it lingering hesitancy to see him after their last encounter?

  “No,” she repeated. “We need to take care of this by ourselves.”

  “Okay. Call Mother?”

  Amber shook her head. “No time.”

  She reread the note and racked her brain. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot of ways around this.

  “It says I have to be on the boat by nine.”

  “How long does that give us?”

  “Not long enough.”

  “You’re going to do as it says?”

  “At this point, I don’t see that I have a lot of choice.”

  “The note says to go unarmed and alone.”

  “Yep.”

  “That kind of, like, leaves you vulnerable, doesn’t it?”

  “For sure. But if I break the rules they will hurt Joan. Can’t take that risk. Keeping Joan safe has to be our number one priority.”

  Ben nodded, running it through his brain. “You might follow the rules, they might hurt Joan anyway.”

  Amber agreed.

  “You have no idea who you will be facing or how many there are. Or if Joan is even on the boat.”

  “All true.”

  The words fell away into an uncomfortable silence.

  “I don’t like this.”

  “No,” Amber agreed. “It’s hardly ideal.”

  “They could just kill you the second you go onboard. You will have no way to defend yourself.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Amber said, hoping it was true. Joan’s well-being was more of a concern.

  Ben reread the note.

  “Okay,” Ben said. “We think Joan’s on the boat, yeah? How about you go, like the note says. No weapons, just you. Meanwhile, I sneak along the rocks on The Point. I swim out and climb on board from behind.”

  “And do what?”

  “I don’t know. Something.”

  Would it work? Who knew? It was something, and something is generally better than nothing.

  “Ben —”

  “Don’t say it, Amber. I’m doing this. You can’t stop me.”

  “I was just going to say be careful. And good luck.”

  “Oh, thanks. You too.”

  Amber left Ben and headed down towards Hidden Beach.

  The night was dark. No moon.

  A boat sat a small way out, bobbing in the water. A fishing boat. A pretty big one. Big by regular standards, maybe not by Port Simmons standards. From what she could tell it wasn’t a boat she had ever seen before. The back was lit up, the only light in a sea of black. No sign of life on board, although impossible to tell from this far away.

  Only as Amber approached the water did it occur to her she had no idea how she was supposed to get out to the vessel. Did the kidnappers intend her to swim? Was Joan on the boat, or was Amber being lured out there while Joan was somewhere else entirely?

  Approaching the shore, she spotted a small rowboat waiting. She had one foot in when a voice sounded from behind her.

  “Stop right there. Put your hands up.”

  A man’s voice. Husky and deep.

  Amber did as she was told. A single hand reached from behind, frisking her roughly.

  “No weapon?”

  “Your message said not to.”

  “Okay.”

  She turned slowly and found herself looking down the barrel of a Beretta 9mm.

  “Hello, Amber.”

  “Hi, Ted.”

  69

  “Get in,” Ted ordered, indicating to the rowboat.

  He followed her suit. Should she disarm him now? She was confident she could, without him getting a shot off. But was it the correct move? Possibly not. Amber had no idea where Joan was or what she might be facing on the fishing boat. If Joan was being held elsewhere, attacking Ted now might result in her never seeing Joan again.

  Amber rowed, covering the short distance quickly. A ride in a rowboat may have been quite pleasant under different circumstances. Such a lovely evening. She didn’t bother to ask Ted what this was all about. She suspected he would tell her in good time.

  “Wow,” Amber said as they neared the larger vessel. “Nice boat.”

  “Thank you. Forty footer.”

  “Impressive.”

  She couldn’t hear or see anyone on board as they approached, probably a good sign. It wasn’t teeming with people at least.

  They bumped gently into the bigger boat. Light spilled over the deck onto them. Amber waited for Ted to say what happened next. He had the gun, so it was his call.

  “I’m going to climb into my boat now.”

  “Okay.”

  “Once I’ve secured the rowboat, you follow me up.”

  “Understood.”

  “Do I have to remind you not to do anything stupid?”

  Amber shook her head.

  She watched the old man make his way on board via a small ladder embedded in the hull. Once he was up, Amber followed.

  On deck she found Joan tied to a seat, her eyes red from crying. A strip of tap ran across her mouth, gagging her.

  Ted stood beside Joan, Beretta aimed at Amber’s heart. Beside them was a small table with an old-fashion straight razor sitting on it.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone else on board at least. No one waiting in the cabin. That was good.

  Could Amber rush Ted now? Certainly, except he would shoot. No doubt. And he wouldn’t miss from that distance. The chances of him panicking and not shooting were small to non-existent. He had kidnapped Joan and tied her up. He was committed to this course of action, wherever it was going to lead.

  She should have taken Ted out when she had the opportunity. On the beach. Or in the rowboat. No point thinking like that though. Hindsight was of little use. It wouldn’t have been the right move without all the information.

  Amber did her best to give Joan a comforting smile. A smile that said everything was going to be all right. Joan didn’t appear to be hurt, which was a positive.

  “See that rail behind you?”

  Amber nodded. Just above the gunwale there was a set of handcuffs, one end attached to the rail. Below, a bench seat which ran along the hull.

  “Cuff yourself,” Ted said. “No funny business.”

  Taking a seat, Amber did as she was told. Mostly. Grabbing the unattached end, she tightened the restraint. Except instead of her wrist, Amber attached it around the widest part of her hand. It was an old trick. Ted didn’t notice. She winced as she clicked the cuff closed to sell the illusion of tightness, holding her arm up for Ted to see and talking to distract him. She was cuffed, but not tight.

  “What’s going on, Ted?”

  He continued to point the gun at her. “Who are you?”

  “Clearly I should be asking you the same question.”

  “I asked first.”

  “I’m Amber.”

  “Yes, so I hear. Joan obviously has no idea who you really are either. That’s all she keeps telling me when I ask her. That you are just Amber. But you must be more than that.”

  “Why do you think I am anything else?”

  “Process of elimination. I have been runnin
g my business through this beach on and off for years now. And yet recently, someone keeps thwarting my efforts. Someone sank one of my ships and stole all my product. You are the only new person in town. Hence, you are my problem.”

  His eyes pierced her.

  “What a shame. You couldn’t use this beautiful beach anymore.”

  “Yes. With those issues, we thought we would try something different.”

  Amber had a fair idea where this was heading.

  “Do you know Port Simmons very well? There is a small warehouse close by the marina. A card company that recently went bust. I set up some of my people to work there instead, but someone seemed to think it was a good idea to shut that down too. Permanently. It’s safe to assume it was the same person who sunk my boat and stole my drugs.”

  “Well, if it’s the warehouse I’m thinking of, they probably deserve to be shut down. Lots of health and safety violations.”

  Ted nodded. “You cost me a great deal of money.”

  “That’s what this is all about? Money? Why not just kill me? You’ve had plenty of opportunity. You’ve been staying in the cabin next door.”

  “True. And I probably would have, if this was just about the money. See, simply killing you wouldn’t have been enough. Your death is the end result. Before that you have to suffer. Not simply die. It’s important that you feel it, do you understand? An eye for an eye and all that. For a while I wasn’t sure how to achieve that, until I saw how close you were to Joan here.”

  Amber grimaced. This didn’t sound promising.

  70

  Amber waited for Ted to continue, handcuffed to the rail. She didn’t have a lot of choice but to listen.

  “I have spent most of my adult life importing drugs and made a good deal of money. When you’re young, you believe money is all there is. It’s not until you get older you realise there are much more important things. It’s funny. Right now, I don’t really care about money at all.”

  “Great. We can all go home then.”

  “The reality is I’m just going through the motions at the moment. I have been for a while. My life hasn’t been the same since my daughter went missing.”