The Red Ledger: 6

by Meredith Wild

  Then his cool blue eyes meet mine as if I’d called his name out loud.

  Vince.

  I turn and walk as briskly as I can manage toward the back of the boat. Maybe he’s drunk and so engrossed in his conversation that he didn’t see me. He wouldn’t recognize me that quickly, would he? A woman emerges through a side door, which I realize is a bathroom. I duck in to hide and lock the door.

  I brace my hands on the counter and catch my breath. My heart is flying.

  The chances of Soloman recognizing me existed, but we’d never met in person. I spent hours on Vince Boswell’s arm the night we met. He put his mouth on me. He beat me. Despite his promises to Tristan when held at gunpoint, he definitely still wants me dead. Mine isn’t a face he’ll soon forget.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Tristan. It rings endlessly. Every second he doesn’t answer sends my panic climbing.

  My hands are shaking. I need to calm down. Maybe I’m freaking out for nothing.

  Bang bang bang.

  I slap my hand across my mouth to keep from screaming.

  “Isabel, is that you?”

  Oh my God. Oh fuck.

  I’m trapped in here. Worse, I’m unarmed. I scan the bathroom for anything I can use. Tristan’s shiny knife wouldn’t make it through security, and while I committed to be resourceful, I’m currently coming up short.

  Bang bang bang. “Open the door. I know it’s you. Open the fucking door!”

  I open the cabinets. Toilet paper, towels, soaps. Nothing. Nothing I can use. I’m shaking badly now. All the adrenaline is doing is pushing the tears that have evaded me for days into my eyes. Pure panic. I run my hands through my hair, close my eyes, and breathe. Just breathe. Think.

  Vince’s next words are a little more measured. “Listen, I just want to talk to you.”

  Yeah, right.

  When I open my eyes, I’m staring at the floor…and at a pair of shoes that could be deadly if wielded with enough force. Just then my phone vibrates. Tristan.

  I press the phone to my ear as I slip off my shoes.

  “Boswell is here.” My voice is shaking now too.

  “What? Vince?”

  “I’m locked in a bathroom on the upper deck. He saw me. He’s outside the door.”

  “Shit. Okay. Listen, Mateus is almost done with Soloman. We have to move. Can you get Vince to take you to the back of the boat?”

  I will my heart to slow down, but it just won’t. “You can’t come get me?”

  “He’s not going to hurt you and cause a scene with all these people around. If I go up there, there’s going to be a scene.”

  “What if he doesn’t go with me?”

  “Then fucking kill him.”

  With my shoe.

  Breathe.

  “Leave your phone on,” he says. “I’m coming your way right now. If he pulls anything, I’ll be there in thirty seconds. Go now before he talks to someone.”

  I drop my phone in my purse and clutch my shoe like it’s a life preserver in a stormy sea. I open the door, ready to use it, but Vince is suddenly gone. When I step out, I see him walking toward the front of the boat. He’s going back to the party. If he tells anyone I’m here, it’s over.

  “Vince!”

  He pivots. The look he gives me morphs from satisfied to ruthless in seconds. A fresh shot of panic works its way through me, making my stomach knot and my palms sweat. I turn and start walking quickly toward the back of the boat, an easier task in bare feet. I don’t have to worry about whether he’s following me. I can hear his loud footsteps gaining on me. I get to the back and grab the railing to the stairs that will take me to the lower deck.

  But I only make it a few steps before Vince grabs my wrist.

  “Get back here,” he growls, yanking hard on my arm.

  The motion throws me off balance, and I lose my footing on the stairs. The weight of my body and his angle above me is too much. He lets me go, and I stumble down the rest of the way, landing at the bottom with a painful cry. He rushes down and pulls me back to my feet like I’m a ragdoll.

  My shoes. Shit, I’ve got nothing in my hands but the starchy white fabric of Vince’s shirt. Slamming me against the wall, he brings his face too close to mine. In a moment of pure panic, I see Bones. I can taste the muzzle of his gun on my tongue. I can feel the emptiness in his soul because I recognize that same emptiness in the man before me.

  “Gotcha,” he sings, a smug smile forming on his face.

  I shift my leg to knee him in the crotch, but he flattens me against the wall and quickly pins my wrists. “Not this time. This time you’re going to give me everything I want. And then I’m going to finish you for good. Kolt’s already forgotten about you anyway. You should see the girl he’s fucking now.”

  I close my eyes and get ready to head-butt him, anything to interrupt his hold on me. Then suddenly it loosens. I open my eyes as he grunts, his eyes suddenly round with fright. His fingers go to his neck and claw at the fine rope that’s cinched around it. Tristan’s face is beside his, his features hard and strained as he gradually pulls Boswell away from me while holding the rope tight.

  Vince thrashes his limbs around to no avail. His efforts are both wildly desperate and lacking strength, a horrible combination. He’s losing the fight. He’s dying.

  “Look away,” Tristan says.

  But I don’t. I can’t. I’m riveted by the slow failure of Vince’s attempts to save himself. I’m intoxicated by the sudden relief of being free of him. The threat of him. The violence he promised me. All of him.

  His flailing stops completely, and when his body goes limp and crumples to the floor, Tristan holds him there a moment longer, ensuring it’s done.

  Finally, he releases the rope, rolls it up, and stuffs it into his pocket. Only then does it dawn on me that Tristan’s killed a man, and he wasn’t even our target. We’re still on a boat in the middle of the ocean. This wasn’t the plan.

  “What do we do with him?”

  “No better place to lose a body than in deep water.”

  TRISTAN

  I check our location on my phone. We’re still miles out from our planned stop at Fisher Island. I want to be long gone before the yacht gets near land anyway. Except now I have a body to deal with, and Mateus still hasn’t shown up. That could mean anything.

  After Soloman’s noble speech about the Company’s design and purpose, Mateus had little choice but to tentatively accept the invitation. I would have done the same just to end the conversation. Thankfully the initiation called for drinks, at least one of which hopefully had enough aconite in it to put Soloman in his grave. But I couldn’t stick around to watch it happen. After Isabel called, I had to get out of there. If I could hear them, they could hear me.

  Fucking Vince Boswell.

  I curse his existence as I look around for something to weigh his body down with.

  In the far back of the yacht is a huge unlit garage filled with boat toys. Inside it is a lifeboat and two jet skis. I take the anchor from the lifeboat and tether it to his body using the rope that cut off his air supply.

  “Where’s Mateus?” Isabel asks, her voice still quivering.

  Her dress is ripped, and her knees are skinned. I wish I could go to her and comfort her, but time is of the essence. I need to get rid of Boswell before someone notices he’s gone and starts looking for him.

  “He should be here soon.”

  I freeze at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. I pull Isabel to the side with me so we’re hidden in darkness.

  “Tristan.” Mateus’s voice is a harsh whisper.

  Relieved, I step out and Isabel follows.

  “We’re here.”

  His brows knit tightly when he sees Boswell’s lifeless body behind me. “What happened? Who is that?”

  “Boswell. He recognized Isabel. It didn’t go well for him. What happened with Soloman? I overheard the whole thing until you started to get drinks going. Did he take
it? Is it done?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  Dread fills me. Suddenly I feel like I’m the one being dropped into deep water with the weight of this anchor lassoed around my entire being. I could have killed Soloman myself. I could have walked through the door and done it in a matter of seconds. He was right there.

  “I didn’t give it to him. I could have, but… Well, you heard him. You heard the proposal.”

  My jaw falls a fraction. “Mateus… No.”

  “I all but said yes already. And once I’m inside, we’ll know everything. All their vulnerabilities. All their plans.”

  This is a nightmare.

  “Mateus, they’ll destroy you if they find out.”

  “They destroyed you!” His jaw tightens. Fire flashes in his shadowed gaze. “They robbed you of your life, Tristan. They used you and twisted you to whatever ends they saw fit. And then I set you on this path.”

  “You had nothing to do with it.”

  “Isabel told me. You had to kill to save Karina, and then you knew what you were capable of. I brought this on you, and I will see it through. I will make it right.”

  I’m stunned. So thoroughly that I can’t recalibrate our plan for several seconds. I glance around at the jet skis and the outline of the door in the side of the boat that will give us an escape route. I turn back to Mateus.

  “I have to get Isabel out of here.”

  “Go then. Take her, and I will deal with the rest.”

  I take in a breath and pull my thoughts together. “The boat will be three people short when it gets back to the marina. You need to get off at Fisher Island before they do a final count. Otherwise they might realize it’s Isabel and me and link it back to you.”

  “It’s a private island. You have to know people…” He rubs his forehead. “All right. I’ll make some calls. I’ll figure it out. Go now. Before there are suspicions.”

  The sound of the yacht’s engine goes an octave lower. We’re slowing down, and I have no idea why. I slam the switch that opens the boat’s garage door. It lifts open with a low hum I hope no one hears. When I look back, Mateus is already gone.

  Soon Boswell will go out to sea, and Isabel and I will be on our way. Hopefully she can forget what she saw here. The look in her eyes as I finished Boswell off has a knot forming in my gut already. It’s the same feeling I get whenever she gets a glimpse of the man I’ve become—the killer in me who even now can’t bring himself to feel an ounce of regret for this loss of life.

  I roll the body closer to the opening and give it a hard shove into the water. The boat is still going fast enough that he’s out of sight seconds later, taken under immediately by the extra weight.

  I see lights in the distance, and the yacht slows down even more. There are half a dozen boats docked up ahead. I exhale a sigh of relief. This is just a stop on the cruise. Slowing down means I can get us out of here because the choppy waves crashing into the garage are already evening out.

  Boom.

  Isabel screams and jumps at the sound that seems to rock the whole boat. Then another and another, followed by celebratory hollers on the decks above us.

  Streams of colorful lights dance on the uneven water. Fireworks.

  Thank you, Jesus.

  The engines cut, and the sound of the anchor dropping is almost deafening.

  I get on the jet ski and motion Isabel toward me. “Get on,” I shout. With a little shove into the water, we’ll be out of here.

  She jumps on, and I position her arms around my middle. “Hang on to me.”

  She hangs on tight, then lets go suddenly. “Oh wait.”

  “Wait?” I take my fingers off the throttle.

  She jumps off, runs toward the stairway, and returns a few seconds later with her shoes hanging around her wrist.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Sorry. They were really expensive. Let’s go.”

  The second she locks her arms around my torso, I gun the engine, launching us into the water. The next wave of fireworks masks the zing of the engine as we lurch forward into the darkness and zip toward the brightly lit Miami skyline.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Isabel

  I look back to the yacht several times until it’s just a pinprick of light with the others glowing against a black night. I’m relieved to be gone, but I won’t rest easy until Mateus is back on land and safe too. I press my cheek to Tristan’s back and let my body absorb the shocks of the jet ski as we skim the water’s surface on the journey back to land. Tristan seems to know exactly where to go, navigating us back to the marina, which is dark and mostly quiet. We ditch the jet ski and head for the parking lot, where Ford is waiting for us with a car.

  When we get there, Townsend is leaning against the side of the vehicle, blowing plumes of smoke into the humid air. He pushes off when he sees us, his expression growing serious.

  “Where’s Mateus?”

  “He’s still on the boat,” Tristan says.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” He looks me over. “Did you take care of Soloman? Is it done?”

  “We didn’t get an opening,” Tristan says quickly as we slide into the back seat of the car.

  We share a silent look. He’s lying. He’s protecting Mateus.

  Townsend slams the passenger door.

  Ford meets our gaze in the rearview mirror. “Back to the hotel?”

  “Drop us there and come right back for Mateus,” Tristan says. “They’re going to drop him off at Fisher Island. He’ll probably take the ferry over from there.”

  “If you didn’t knock him off, why’d you bail?” Townsend presses.

  I lock my mouth tight, unsure how much Tristan wants to share. Mateus said Soloman offered him a proposal. Sickness roils inside me because I’m afraid I know what it might be.

  Tristan takes out his phone. The screen casts a bright glow on his face. He taps out a message, but I can’t see it. “We ran into trouble with an old associate. He recognized Isabel, so we had to take care of him. The party won’t miss us. They would have missed Mateus, so we split up.”

  “Fuck,” Townsend mutters. “Now what?” He turns in his seat. “We had a deal, you know. You dropped the ball, but you still owe me a meeting. I’m not sticking around to watch you screw things up again.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Tristan snaps.

  Ford drops us at the hotel and doubles back for Mateus. When we get to the penthouse, Tristan makes a beeline for the executive desk. He scribbles on a piece of paper and hands it to Townsend, who frowns as he reads the scrawl.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a strip club in New York he likes to go to. He’ll be in a private room in the back.”

  “Good.” Townsend’s mouth sets in a determined line. “That’s all I need.”

  Tristan holds his stare a moment. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “You’ve got enough to worry about, mate. You shouldn’t be worrying about me.”

  “I’m not worried about you.”

  Townsend’s expression is taut. “I’ll be fine. She’ll be fine, all right?”

  “Whatever you say.” Tristan shrugs like he doesn’t care, but I know better. If anything happens to Townsend, Jay will be unprotected, which isn’t a responsibility either of us is eager to take on again.

  Without another word, Townsend turns and leaves. After the elevator doors close behind him, I walk out to the deck and stop at the edge. The ocean is dotted with a few lights shimmering in the distance. I silently wonder if any of them are the King’s Ransom. Are they on their way to the island now? Has the party escalated the way Athena seemed to think it would by the end of the night?

  Tonight was nothing like I expected. For the first time since all of this began, the Company took on a face. The members of the “club” and the people in their circles live in a world unto themselves, apart from the rest of us. They play by a set of rules driven by the need for power and wealth and consumin
g the best of everything. At least we have a glimpse of who we’re dealing with.

  If Mateus had dropped the aconite into Soloman’s drink, maybe everything could have ended tonight. We’ll never know. But now I fear this journey is far from over.

  Tristan comes beside me. “You okay?”

  I’m not. I’m reeling again, my thoughts spinning wildly between fear and regret and renewed determination. But I don’t tell him any of that.

  “I’m worried about Mateus.”

  “He texted me a few minutes ago that everything’s fine. No one knows Vince is missing yet. He connected with a friend who owns a place on the island. He’s all set.”

  I exhale a weighty sigh. “Thank God.”

  He squeezes my shoulder. “He’ll be all right. Everything’s going to be all right. It’s a booze cruise. It’ll probably be morning by the time anyone realizes Vince is missing.”

  “What was the proposal?” I peer up at him. “He said they offered him something.”

  Tristan’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t have to say it. I already know.

  “Damn it. Why?” I drop my head into my hands. “Why did he do it, Tristan? Now we’ve missed our chance. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have said what I did. He made a comment at the bar about you wasting your talents. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to defend you. He doesn’t understand what you’ve been through or what this means.”

  Tristan pulls me against his chest. The tears I’ve been holding on to for too long stream down my cheeks with my quiet sobs. He hushes me and kisses the crown of my head.

  “Isabel, listen to me.” He touches my chin and tilts my gaze to meet his. “How much do you think Karina’s life was worth to Mateus when I found her? Before they were even lovers?”

  I wince. “I don’t know.”

  He brushes my tears away gently. “Mateus could have settled the debt years ago. Every time I asked for something, he took care of it, no questions asked. The penthouse in Ipanema would have been more than enough, but he insisted it wasn’t. Taking us into his house in Petrópolis. The jet to Panama. Dozens of other times, he was there to help me in a pinch. This isn’t about the debt or Karina. This is about Mateus and me, and nothing you could have said would have probably changed the course of this.”