By now Jack had to know they were behind him.
She swiped her eyes dry with her fingertips and tightened her grip on the Glock, unsure if she would have the clear shot she needed.
A decision she hated having to make.
If she did get a chance to shoot without endangering Jack, she had to make the shot count.
She might not get a second opportunity.
* * *
Jack caught sight of the airboat coming out of a turn, and immediately recognized Cherise and Robert. Her wig and sunglasses gone.
The charade over.
Ahead of him, the lane between the trees opened into a sawgrass marsh.
He would make his move then.
Again, he went to work stretching his bindings. Ankles and wrists. Until he could almost slide his hands free. One good tug would do it.
His ankles would come next.
After he swam clear of the boat.
He had no way of knowing the depth of the marsh. But he wanted to be prepared to tread water when he rolled over the side. At the very least, he needed to be able to claw and pull himself away from the spinning prop.
He waited and watched.
Corey jammed the throttle lever forward, sending them racing into the flooded sawgrass prairie. Speed no longer appeared to be an issue.
Not at the moment, anyway.
With the dense wall of mangroves and the leafy canopy behind them, Jack scooted to the side of the boat, ready to roll over the side.
Corey juked the flat-bottomed hull through a serpentine of grassy channels. Robert kept up, maneuvering to within thirty yards. Cherise sat poised to shoot. That she had armed herself, came as no surprise.
Now or never.
Jack made his move.
Not the quick roll over the side he intended.
Each time he made a move in one direction, the boat swerved and centrifugal force rolled him in the opposite direction.
He concentrated on his timing and glimpsed Jessica facing aft, the revolver no longer pointed at him. The greater threat now coming from behind.
His chance.
Only Cherise made the decision for him. A shot from her semi-automatic tore through the cowling on the outboard. A second bullet must have severed the steering cable because the boat veered, first one way then the other.
Corey fought a steering wheel that no longer worked.
Jessica swayed and tumbled over the side.
Jack pulled his hands and feet free of the rope and gripped the narrow gunnel, ready to take his chances in the marsh.
The next instant, the side of the hull pushed a wake ahead of it, caught the water, and flipped.
A violent motion that tossed him airborne a second before he splashed down ten feet from Corey.
They came up facing each other.
Jack swiped the muck from his eyes while the big man opposite him did the same.
Off to the side, fifteen feet or so, the boat drifted in the river of grass half submerged, keel up, the prop dead in the air.
His mind began to clear, and he searched out the airboat that had fallen quiet. Robert had beached the nose on a gentle rise fifty yards away and was climbing down from his seat. Cherise pounded after Jessica who made a desperate run for it on a patch of dry land. A distant vacillating, high-pitched buzz signaled the presence of airboats racing through the Everglades.
Tours, perhaps.
A mile or more away. Not here.
He and his friends were on their own.
And he had Corey to deal with.
CHAPTER 77
Jack faced the big man wading toward him in grassy, thigh-deep water. Corey’s ape-like arms hung at his sides, moving forward and backward with each stride, fingers curled, his sun-bleached brown hair streaked black with muck. The man looked every bit like a swamp monster.
“It’s over, Corey,” he said.
“Wrong, buddy boy.”
Jack could see anger flare in the man’s eyes.
He took a step sideways and the crust under his foot broke, letting him sink into muck halfway to his knee. He followed up with the opposite foot and the same thing happened. Corey had to be having similar difficulty.
They lunged at each other.
Jack ducked under a round-house right and hammered an ineffective uppercut to a gut as hard as a frozen side of beef.
He caught a left fist on the back of the head that drove him into the murky water.
It felt like his skull had split.
He managed an uppercut to the ape’s groin. A solid punch that brought a howling scream from the big man, his eyes pinched against the pain. A wide strip of tan fabric, probably heavy canvas, came loose from around Corey’s waist when he staggered back a step.
Jack recognized the money belt for what it was.
He shook feeling back into his hand and grabbed the trailing end as it began to sink. Corey blindly groped the water to the front and sides of him.
Jack held the belt up like a trophy fish. “Looking for this?”
Corey groaned, his left hand holding his crotch. “I’m going to kill you.”
Jack seized the moment. He tossed the money aside and drove his shoulder into the guy’s chest, propelling the stronger man onto his back.
Everything happened in a blur.
Jack landed on Corey and rolled off. Gaining his feet, he straightened with his fists raised. Ready to finish the fight. Through a haze of water clouding his eyes, he saw the blades of grass part ten yards to his right.
An alligator, he thought at first. But the creature swimming toward them sailed too smoothly through the weeds. A slithering, undulating body. The head, large as a dog’s, held high out of the water, tongue flicking, searching.
A giant snake.
One of the Burmese pythons he’d heard about. Its body broader than his thigh and twenty feet long.
Corey screeched. He had managed to get onto his hands and knees, but no farther. He and the snake were eye to eye.
Jack watched the big man’s expression go slack, his face drained of color. His body frozen in place as though unable to move. Two feet away, the serpent’s tongue flicked, searching for body heat.
Jack knew he couldn’t stop the inevitable.
Not that he wanted to.
The snake struck with split-second speed and sunk its fangs into Corey’s thick neck. In a heartbeat, the length of reptile wound around him—a writhing, coiling mass that churned the water and silenced the scream that never had a chance to escape the man’s open mouth.
Jack had no desire to stick around. He grabbed the money belt and mucked his way toward Robert and the airboat as fast as possible, leaving the snake to its feast. He got no more than a couple of steps when he heard a gunshot.
The fight wasn’t over.
He looked and saw Cherise and Jessica engaged in a struggle on the ground. Cherise held on to Jessica’s wrists, the barrel of the revolver pointed in the air. In the next instant, Cherise hammered an elbow into the woman’s face.
A blow that he figured would do the trick. But Jessica managed to squeeze off another wild shot.
Cherise put an end to the fight with a punch to Jessica’s throat.
He wondered why Cherise hadn’t shot her. Too easy, perhaps. Maybe she wanted the pleasure of personally kicking the woman’s ass. He even imagined a bit of female jealousy could be involved. Getting even. He liked thinking that was the case.
The thrashing in the water behind him stopped.
He knew what that meant.
He turned and saw the enormous python dragging the crushed body onto a mound of dry land where the reptile would begin to swallow him whole.
Oddly enough, he felt a tinge of regret that the man had suffered such a horrible death. But the feeling was fleeting when he recalled Corey and his sister having trussed him up like a Christmas goose and bringing him into the swamp at gunpoint with the intention of tossing him into a watery hole full of hungry alligators.
&n
bsp; Better him than me.
He heard Robert yell his name.
Surely his long-time buddy could see he was okay.
He took one more look at the capsized boat, turned, and saw the white gift bag submerged a few feet away from where he stood. He scooped up the sodden mess, cradled it under his arm, and sloshed off in the direction of his friends.
* * *
Cherise jerked Jessica up by her muddy hair, not caring if she ripped some out in the process.
“Let me go,” Jessica croaked, her hands gripping Cherise’s arm. “You win.”
“Damn right I win.” She tightened her grip on the woman’s scalp to add emphasis. “Try anything else and I’ll break your arm.”
“Okay. Okay. I told you. I give up.”
“Fuck giving up.” Cherise shoved the woman toward the airboat, and warmed when she saw Jack walking toward them. “You tried to kill my friend. You’re lucky I didn’t put a bullet in you.”
“I got her gun,” Robert said.
“Corey made me help him.” Jessica’s voice was gravelly. “All of this . . . it’s his idea. He killed those men. Not me.”
Cherise looked the woman up and down as she stumbled toward the water. Body caked with mud. Once blonde hair now stringy and stained black with muck. A whimpering pathetic mockery of her former self.
“And Sam King, the man you and your brother pushed overboard a few weeks ago, you had nothing to do with that?”
Jessica stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. She struggled to her feet and glared at Cherise. “How do you know about him?”
“You dumb, fucking, psycho bitch. Do you think we’re all here by accident? Sam King was my friend’s father. This whole romance on the high seas bit these past few days was a setup. Only, you and your brother had to get cute.”
Jessica stared toward the overturned boat as though suddenly concerned about Corey. Her gaze appeared to fix on Jack.
Cherise enjoyed watching shock and reality widen the woman’s eyes.
“What . . . ? Where . . . ?” Jessica turned her attention back on Cherise. Anger flashed in her expression. “My brother. You killed him.”
Cherise smiled. “I suspect Jack had something to do with that.”
CHAPTER 78
Late that evening, Jack sat on the steps of the police station, his elbows on his knees. The sun had set on the Gulf side of the peninsula, bathing the sky in front of him in shades of crimson.
He had told a not-so-simple story, and retold it a dozen times. He tolerated being called stupid and thanked the detectives when they let him go.
There are some things you admit to, he silently told himself. And some you don’t.
He felt he’d chosen correctly.
Cherise sat down beside him, a cold pack on the knuckles of her right hand.
“Hurt much?” he asked.
She turned a smile on him and gave a slight shake of her head.
He knew better.
She said, “I guess you heard that Park Rangers killed the snake and recovered Corey’s body.”
He huffed. “Poor snake.”
“Did the detectives give you a hard time?”
“Hard enough,” he admitted. “You?”
“They tried. Until their captain got a call from Admiral Casey. Then they backed off.”
“The admiral called?”
“I called him first. Figured we could use some backup.”
He flashed on his prior dealings with the admiral. “That’s some backup.”
“I heard the detectives talking among themselves. Apparently, Jessica is singing like a canary.”
“Blaming everything on Corey, I suppose.”
“Most likely. Did you notice they hauled in Amanda and their mother? Amanda sure didn’t look happy when she saw me.”
“Probably about as happy as their mother was when I waved to her.”
“Not our problem.”
“Unless this goes to court.”
“Which is doubtful,” she said. “By the way, how’s your hand?”
He flexed his fingers. “I’ll live. But I sure could use a shower. Where are Robert and Lindsey?”
“He’s in the restroom. Washing up, I imagine. Linds is waiting for him.”
“She know he’s married?”
“You’re worried. Don’t be. They’ve become good friends, but she swears nothing has happened and nothing will.”
“I’m glad to hear that. She’s lucky to have you in her corner.”
“You were in that corner as well.”
“Because you asked me.” He peered into Cherise’s dark eyes. The woman he couldn’t imagine not seeing again. “Out there, I—”
She pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him. “I know. Me, too.”
And she kissed him.
* * *
Later that night, when they sat around a table in the restaurant at the Intercontinental Hotel, Jack quietly nursed his Knob Creek over ice while the others sipped their drinks and chatted in a festive mood.
“Why so quiet, Jack?” Robert sat looking at him from across the table. “You’re acting like you had a bad day or something.”
“I’m fine.” He spotted their server approaching with a bottle of Dom Perignon. “Fantastic, actually.”
The server presented the champagne to Jack and he nodded approval.
“What’s this about?” asked Cherise. “When did you order that?”
“On the way in.” Jack grinned, and looked at his friends. “I thought we deserved a celebratory toast.”
She said, “Surely that’s not the bottle I—”
He winked at her. “Fresh from the hotel wine cellar. Chilled to perfection. Our bottle is waiting for us in an ice bucket up in the room.”
“I’m surprised it survived the cruise.”
“A special bottle like that?” He shook his head. “I wasn’t about to let anything happen to it.”
Robert chuckled. “It’s a good thing we were able to rescue your bag from the port or some baggage agent would be drinking it by now.”
“Seriously,” Lindsey said. She scanned the group, her gaze settling on Jack. “I can’t thank you guys enough for all you’ve done. And Jack, words aren’t enough to express my gratitude for what you went through.”
“One thing is for sure,” Robert added. “That snake came close to having him for its lunch.”
“He did,” Jack agreed. “But he chose Corey, instead.”
“That’s something worth toasting to,” Cherise said.
Jack raised his glass. “To a great big snake and a whole lot of luck.”
“And to two beautiful women,” Robert added.
“Absolutely,” Jack said.
They clinked glasses.
Robert said, “I suppose we ought to be thankful we weren’t arrested for antiquities smuggling.”
“Speaking of antiquities.” Jack searched each of his friends’ faces for a hint of their thoughts. “What should we do with them?”
They exchanged looks.
Cherise said, “Are you referring to those ugly gold idols the cops are searching for out there in the swamp?”
“It’s a shame they flew overboard when the boat flipped,” Robert added.
“Sure is,” Jack said. “So what do you think?”
Robert said, “I’ll let you and Cherise decide.”
Jack looked at Lindsey, the remaining vote.
She shrugged. “I couldn’t care less what happens to those things.”
Jack turned to Cherise. “This is your caper. I’ll leave it up to you.”
She asked, “Why me?”
Jack sipped his champagne and returned his flute to the table. “Because you have the connections. And because I trust you to do what’s right. Ho`oponopono. We can’t forget that.”
Lindsey’s knitted brow morphed her stoic expression into one of confusion. “What does Ho`oponopono mean?”
“It’s Hawaiian. Doing what’s right. Corr
ectness. Or simply Pono. Incidentally, the name I gave my old boat.”
“Correctness. Now that’s something the world could use more of.”
He lifted his glass in honor of his friends. “Speaking of Ho`oponopono, I’d like to thank everyone for not telling the police that I recovered the idols or the money belt after that boat flipped. They’d have seized both for evidence. And likely as not, that’s the last I’d have seen of my ninety thousand.”
“Here, here.” Robert raised his glass. “Unfortunately, you’re still out ten grand.”
“Perhaps I can do something about that,” Cherise said.
And they clinked glasses one more time.
CHAPTER 79
The following morning, Jack sat next to Cherise at a table in the Blue Water Café overlooking the pool. Robert and Lindsey sat across from them. Their server had removed the breakfast dishes and left them to finish their coffee.
“Place is starting to fill up,” he said.
“The breakfast crowd getting a jump on the day,” Robert answered.
“Speaking of jumping, we should get on the road.”
Cherise said, “I think you made a good choice driving down rather than flying.”
Jack thought about the Cooper they had left at the airport in Key West. “It’ll be relaxing, providing Robert didn’t rent us a sub-compact.”
“Got a yellow Camaro convertible waiting for us out front,” Robert said. “I thought you looked a little peaked, like you could use some sun on your face.”
Jack ignored the comment and turned to Cherise. “Wish you were coming with me. I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around.”
“You’re sweet, Jack. But Lindsey and I are flying to New York this afternoon. She’ll be flying on to D.C. in the morning. She has work to get back to and I have important business to take care of in the City.”
“Yeah . . . well . . . I guess we’ll say our goodbyes then.” He slid back his chair, continuing to look at her. She held his gaze as though she felt the same sense of loss. One night together, alone in each other’s arms with no interruptions, hadn’t been enough.
He asked, “You ready, Robert?”
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