The Girl in Dangerous Waters (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 8)

by A J Rivers

  Only the glow of the night light in the bathroom at the end of the bedroom creates shadows in the illumination in the room. I've been sitting here in Room 312 for almost an hour, the anticipation tingling up my legs and in my fingertips. My heart beats hard enough for me to feel it in my stomach and taste it on my tongue.

  It seems as if I keep doing this. Placing myself as bait to wait for someone to come. I don’t mind doing it. I’m a trained fighter, and I can more than hold my own. Sure, I could call the police to do this. But I don’t have time for that now. And I don’t know if I can trust them.

  No, if someone’s going to take down Paul, it has to be me. And if I have to be the bait, I’ll do it.

  The sound of the door handle behind me makes sparks of color jump behind my eyes and burst into my brain. I ready myself, staying as still as I can and concentrating hard on controlling my breaths, so I'm silent in the living area.

  The figure slips into the room, and I watch him in the faint reflection on the glass. For a second, I wonder if he can see me, too. The small bit of light from the bathroom might not be enough. But I can't change it now. He stands there for a second, staring at the door, and I close my eyes.

  If he can see my reflection, I don't want him to see that my eyes are open. Straining for sound, I listen for his footsteps to cross the room and come closer to me. My muscles twitch. I have to time this exactly right. Not too soon, definitely not too late.

  Finally, his footsteps are loud enough for me to know he is within only a couple of feet from me. Jumping up from the chair, I throw off the blanket that was draped over my lap, step up on the cushion of the chair, and launch myself over the back and onto him.

  I get the drop on him with a hard cross to his jaw. Paul stumbles backward, obviously stunned, and I grab for my handcuffs to lock onto one of his wrists while he is still confused. I slam the cuff down on one wrist, and it spins over to lock into place, but I can’t tighten it before he rushes into me, shouldering me back and against the wall.

  I try to keep my feet under me but slip and hit the ground. I see a syringe roll from his hand under the door to the bathroom. His eyes dart over to it as well. We both lunge for it, but I get there first, slamming the door onto his fingers and getting a roar of pain from him before I jam my elbow into his nose.

  I don’t know exactly what’s in that syringe, but I absolutely do not want to find out. It needs to stay far out of the way. I try to position myself between him and the door to make sure of it, but he is already up and back at me again. Paul’s frame is massive, and despite his size and strength, he is deceptively quick on his feet, and he uses one of them to kick me hard in the ribs. I fly back into the door and hear it creak under the sudden weight of me hitting it.

  Paul takes a step back and then charges shoulder first at me. I try to dodge it, but his arm extends to his side, and he tackles me as we both plow into the door. It explodes off the hinges. Splinters rain down as the door cracks and crumbles beneath us. We land with a crash on the bathroom tiles.

  Paul is grabbing frantically, searching for the syringe, and I take the chance to smash him hard in the face again, aiming for his swollen, bloody nose. A direct hit makes him wince and pull back his fist. He slams it down, but I move my head in just enough time for him to put a hole through what remains of the door. I grab at his eyes as his weight presses down onto me, keeping me from being able to escape or grab something to use as a weapon.

  As I claw at his face, one hand grabs for my throat, and he clamps down hard. I can feel my windpipe being squeezed. I know it’s only a few moments before he will choke me out. Suddenly a searing pain rockets across my cheek, and I realize he is punching me with the handcuff around his fist.

  My arms feel weak, and I have a hard time flailing at him. He hits me again, hard. Blood bubbles up in my mouth, and I spit out a stream of it onto his hand, still wrapped around my throat. I roll my head to the side to see the fist that has punched me is clenched around something else now. Panic runs up my spine.

  The syringe is jammed into my shoulder before I can react, and I kick wildly when it goes in. One of my flails hits him low, and he crumples a bit, giving me just enough room to wiggle out from under him. Adrenaline pumps through my body to counteract the drugs I know are going to hit me any second. I grab the arm that had been choking me, wrapping my legs around it. Popping my hips, I am able to get my body weight pinned between the doorframe and the bathroom sink. There is nowhere for him to go, and his elbow is being bent at such an angle that all it takes is for him to move the wrong way by just an inch and…

  He howls in pain as his elbow snaps. I let go of him and hop onto his back. Wrapping my arms around his neck from behind, I cinch up hard, pressing my knee into his lower back. With only one arm and on his stomach, he is helpless. I hold him tight under the chin, constricting his breathing with both arms until I hear him snoring in my grip. When I let go, his face smashes into the tile, and I wipe my mouth with my sleeve before yanking the handcuffed wrist over to the toilet. I snap the other side of the cuff around the pipe bolted into the wall and stand up, trying to catch my breath.

  With Paul finally handcuffed, battered, and bloodied, but no longer coming at me, I drag myself up and into the bedroom where I left my phone, gasping for breath. I purposely didn't want it in the room with me where I was waiting. It was too much of a risk that he’d see the phone and destroy it. The only landline in the room is in the bedroom, but I wanted to be able to quickly call the contacts I had in place.

  My vision blurry and breathing labored, I grab it and hit the first number saved.

  “Are you alright?” Sam asks as soon as he picks up.

  “Please just come,” I gasp.

  “Be there in a second.”

  The call drops, and the dizziness takes over. Drawing in a deep breath to try to flush my body with oxygen, I head back into the living room. Every step is wobbly, and the room seems to tip back and forth as I walk. Flattening my hand on the wall, I feel for the light switch and hit it. The lamp bursting on stings in my eyes. I feel like it almost physically knocks me back.

  Grabbing onto the back of the chair, I hold myself up and keep my eyes trained on the doorframe to the bathroom, waiting for any sign that Paul might try to break out. Fortunately, it's only a few more moments before the door opens, and Sam runs inside. I let go of the back of the chair to open my arms to him. Just as he reaches me and goes to take me into his arms, my legs collapse, and I fall into darkness.

  *****

  I wake up to the sharp smell of antiseptic and the harsh feeling of gauze against raw, open wounds. Sam's is the first face I see, and I nearly cry with happiness. He cups his hand against my cheek, and I tilt my face into it, kissing his warm skin.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “He got you with his syringe,” Sam says. “The sedative intended for Agent Harding got into you. But you managed to fight it off before the full dose. You were able to stay functional long enough to fight him off before the adrenaline wore off and the drugs kicked in. But once you had him cuffed and called me, everything shut down.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “A few hours,” he says.

  Fear jumps up in my heart, and I try to get to my feet, but Sam gently presses me back down into the bed. The doctor's eyes slide over to him, but she doesn't say anything as she continues to attend to my injuries.

  “I have to go,” I tell him. “They're waiting for me.”

  “They're fine,” he tells me. “All six women. Eric’s team got to them and rescued all of them. They were evacuated to a hospital on the mainland, but we've already gotten an update, and they are all doing well.”

  “And everybody else?” I ask. “All the other girls at the resort?”

  “They've been told they aren't being held anymore and can leave the resort. Unfortunately, for some, this was the only life they have. They’ve been abandoned here and have no idea where to go or what to do. No
family left. No home.”

  “We'll help them," I say. "That's what comes next. We'll help them figure it out."

  Sam leans down and kisses me.

  "Yes, we will."

  "What about Frederick and Catherine and Constance?" I ask.

  "They've been arrested for their roles in the trafficking. There is more than enough evidence against them, especially when the women testify. None of them will talk, but they’ll get it out of them. Soon enough, they'll realize they're looking at drug charges, international human trafficking, and murder, and it's in their best interest to help us as much as they can."

  The doctor finally finishes and walks away, leaving us alone in the infirmary cubicle. Sam holds my hand and strokes the side of my face.

  “Where's Alonso? I want to make sure the investigators know how much he helped. He's guilty as hell, but they need to know he wasn't involved in the prostitution ring.”

  "He's missing," Sam sighs. “He was here, but the last time I saw him was when we were getting into position. When I looked for him after you came here, I found out he slipped away.”

  “They'll find him,” I say.

  “You sure about that?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I confirm. “I've done my part. What's going on here is just a little part of something much bigger. The FBI can create a special task force to take it from here and uncover the larger trafficking ring. As for the drugs, I'm sure that will come out when they test the women.”

  “Are you sure you don't want to be more involved in the investigation?”

  There’s a note to his voice that’s hard to read. It’s almost hesitant, like he’s unsure where my head is. But it’s also encouraging. I know this case like no one else does. I’m the one who started it, who first saw that something was wrong. It would seem right that I would be the one to head up the further investigation into the rest of the drugs and the human trafficking.

  At least, there was a time when it would have seemed right. Not now.

  “I'm sure,” I tell him, and I am almost surprised to realize I really mean it. “If they need me, they know where to find me. But I'm ready to go home. I need a vacation from my vacation.

  “What's next for you?” he asks.

  "Rest. Recover. Then get back to work.”

  “Have you decided to move back?” Sam asked.

  The sadness in his eyes makes my heart ache, and I reach up to touch his face. I cup the side of his face as I shake my head.

  “No. Sherwood is my home. That’s not going to change. But I don’t want to just sit around anymore. I don’t want to just do video chats and online research when they feel like they can use me. I’m ready to tell Creagan I’m ready to get active again.”

  “What about going into private investigation with Dean?”

  I let out a sigh and nod, acknowledging all the conversations I had with him about the possibility and whether it was the right decision for me. Sam was my sounding board, listening to me as I tried to process through everything. I didn’t always need him to tell me what he thought, and he knew that. It wasn’t about getting his opinion or getting his input. He knew that there were times when I just needed to be able to talk things through out loud and hear myself say them. But when I did need to know what he thought, he was there to give me that as well.

  “Going into private investigation really sounded like a good thing. It would definitely give me a quieter personal life. I could stay out of the more intense investigations and give my time to more focused issues that aren’t getting attention. And that could still happen. I can still help him with his cases and do my own when I’m not on active investigations with the Bureau. But, at least for now, it’s not all I want.”

  “What made you change your mind?” he asks.

  “I didn’t change my mind. Not really, anyway. I questioned if my days with the Bureau were finished because I thought I’d finished everything I intended to when I started. I thought since now that I know what happened to my mother and my father is back, I don’t need the Bureau. Then I came here. Seeing Rosa’s murder being ignored reminded me why I became an agent to begin with. There is too much darkness out there, too many people getting away with brutalizing others and destroying lives for me to turn my back now. I’m not done yet.”

  Epilogue

  Dragon

  He stands on the roof and looks down over his resort. From his vantage point, he can see nearly to the edges of the island, but all he cares about is what was just below him. That sheriff has his arm tightly around Emma’s waist as he helps her out of the infirmary and into the waiting car. It will bring her to the lobby, where Joshua waits to bring them to the airport.

  Everything will change now. But not the way people think. The resort will not close. The island will not become once again deserted and empty. He will thrive.

  He was not to blame for any of this. And he could prove that.

  Not with his name. Not with his face. He can’t do that. It would be too dangerous.

  Then he could never have her.

  Emma is his only focus, the only thing beyond his reach, the only thing he cannot buy.

  Others would stand in his place and offer themselves up for scrutiny. They would claim the island, the resort, the darkness now hanging over it. And with his guidance, they would slide out of that darkness just the way he would have. Catherine, Constance, and Frederick took advantage of what he created. They were greedy and selfish and did something he could never forgive.

  But not Alonso. Alonso could still be trusted.

  And one day, Emma would be his. Her betrayal would be soothed. All the pain she created atoned for. It wasn’t her fault. He knows that. She still wants him. She always has.

  This should have worked. She shouldn’t be leaving in the back of that car with the sheriff comforting her. But he can be patient.

  He has been for this long.

  THE END

  To my amazing readers,

  I first just want to say THANK YOU!

  I am able to keep writing these novels, because of you!

  Writing this novel and the past Emma Griffin series brought me a ton of joy.

  I truly hope that I have brought you the same amount of thrill and joy into your life while reading my novels.

  I know the world is a bit mad at this moment. I hope that I was also able to take your mind out of the chaos and give you a moment of peace.

  There is something that I would greatly appreciate from you at this moment.

  I would massively appreciate if you could take a moment of your day to write a review for this novel.

  Your reviews give me the motivation to keep this series going, and it helps me massively as an indie author.

  Your reviews alone have helped me tremendously when I was first starting out.

  The review doesn’t have to be long, but however short or long you want.

  Just a few seconds of your time is all that is needed.

  When you leave me a review, know that I am eternally grateful to YOU.

  Thank you for taking the time to read my novel!

  My promise to you has always been to do my best to bring you thrilling adventures.

  I hope I have fulfilled that. I look forward to you reading my next novel!

  Yours,

  A.J. Rivers

  P.S. If, for some reason, you didn’t like this book or found typos or other errors, please let me know personally. I do my best to read and respond to every email at aj@riversthrillers.com

  Staying In Touch With A.J.

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  Also by A.J. Rivers

  Emma Griffin FBI Mysteries

  Season One

  Book One - The Girl in Cabin 13*

  Book Two - The Girl Who Vanished

  Book Three - The Girl in the Manor

  Book Four - The Girl Next Door

  Book Five - The Girl and the Deadly Express

 
Book Six - The Girl and the Hunt

  Book Seven - The Girl and the Deadly End

  Season Two

  Book Eight - Dangerous Waters

  Other Standalone Novels

  Gone Woman