“So both women have ‘Anna’ passports. Must come in handy when you want to be in two places at once. Just think of the possibilities. Anna can be in one place pulling a con and in another establishing an alibi at the same time. I bet they both have birth certificates and driver’s licenses in Anna’s name, too.”
“But that still doesn’t tell us why Lilly has Rose’s version.”
“Or where she and Tommy Preston got off to.”
Caitlin’s arm dropped to her side, and the papers she’d been holding fell to the ground. She got on her knees to gather them up.
Maps.
“Anything important down there?”
“Just more photocopies of the phony treasure maps.”
Spense tucked the passports they’d found into his jacket.
Caitlin felt a sting when her finger grazed the sharp edge of one of the maps as she stacked them on the tabletop.
A big drop of blood fell right on top of the spot marked X. Her palms started to tingle. “Spense, you know how I was so sure Rose would hide out somewhere along the route to Gauguin’s Gold?”
“I seem to recall we both were, and that it led us into a hell of a mess. If you’re suggesting we retrace our steps, I’ve gotta say I don’t think that’s wise. Brousseau’s already up there with his men and—”
“Up there, near Mana Falls, yes but not here. This is a different map. It even has the roman numeral II stamped in the corner.”
Spense leaned over her shoulder and studied it. “It looks a lot like the same map to me. Here’s Mana Falls. Here’s the chutes and ladders trail.”
She nodded. “But X is in a different spot. You don’t need to go down chutes and ladders or past hives to get there. It’s in the opposite direction, on a different section of the island. There’s a road leading almost all the way there, and a swinging bridge. This is definitely a different spot. I’m pretty sure we’d remember a swinging bridge.”
“I’m pretty sure we’d remember a road.”
Papers flew as they sorted through all the maps, looking for more versions. More spots where Rose Parker might be hiding or where Tommy might’ve taken Lilly. But in the end, there were only two.
Two sisters.
Two maps.
Two potential hiding spots.
And Brousseau’s men had one area covered already.
“I hate to admit when I’m wrong,” Spense muttered.
“Then don’t.”
He holstered his Glock and handed her the map. “I’ll drive. You navigate.”
Chapter 32
Sunday
Road to Taravao Plateau
Tahiti Iti
Noting the time on his cell—fifteen minutes left on the clock, Tommy checked yet again to be sure there’d been no message from Rose. Reception was spotty, and she probably couldn’t get through, but it was worth a look.
“Can I have my phone back, now?” Lilly asked. Her speech was beginning to slur.
“I’m keeping it safe aren’t I?”
“Yes, but I want to text Rose.”
“No service.”
“Then why do you keep checking it?”
“To see if there’s service.” He tweaked her nose. “Babe, are you sure this is the right trail?” Because if she was leading him astray in an effort to give Rose time to beat them to the spot, she was going to regret it later—in just about fourteen minutes or so.
She stopped and did a three-sixty. “I think so.”
“Think?”
“I’m almost positive. But I didn’t see the swinging bridge. When did we cross it?”
He counted to ten. Forced himself to breathe. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking straight, and he couldn’t exactly blame her for that. But if they were on the wrong trail, which they clearly were, she had led him astray right out of the gate—long before the drug could have crossed the blood-brain barrier. So maybe he could hold her accountable after all. “We should turn around. The X should be only a couple of miles from the end of the pavement, right?”
“How far do you think we’ve come?”
“More than that.” He envisioned himself dragging Lilly’s dead body across the swinging bridge—he didn’t relish the thought.
He could only hope they would get there before the clock ran out.
Rose spied the rickety old swinging bridge just ahead.
She’d made it!
But then, her stomach began to churn.
Clever of Tommy to have chosen this place.
Not only was it remote, once she started across the bridge she’d be unable to conceal her approach. The bridge swaying and singing in the wind would give her away, and there’d be no place to take cover.
She blew out a breath, then patted the Glock tucked into the back of her shorts—the one she’d stolen from Pierre and then hidden under a banyan tree until she could safely return for it.
Tommy would be a damn fool to shoot her before he had SADIE in his hands.
If she had indeed reached this spot first, she could get herself into a good hidey-hole and get the drop on him instead—let him be the sitting duck crossing the bridge.
She checked her phone—dead. Which meant she couldn’t see how many minutes were left on the clock. Act on the best-case scenario, prepare for the worst.
She hoped she was the first to arrive, but that Lilly would be only minutes behind.
The only thing that made sense to her was to race across the bridge as fast as possible.
She stepped onto it, and her foot set the thing in motion—big time. She grabbed the cable that served as a handrail. The wind was high, and the bridge far less steady than she’d remembered. Papa had never brought Lilly and her here in conditions like these. All those games of swing and scream had been played in fair weather. She took another step and nearly lost her balance.
Widening her stance, she tried again.
Better, but only a little.
At this rate it was going to take forever to cross, and she only had minutes—Lilly only had minutes.
She closed her eyes against the stinging wind and concentrated.
There must be a better way. Maybe if she crawled on her belly the bridge would sway less. Snaking her way on her stomach would be steady, and less likely to leave the bridge in telltale motion.
She hit the deck, then used her hands to drag herself from rung to rung. Through the spaces between them, she could see the verdant valley below with its rolling hills, tall trees, and vibrant tropical flowers. The wind presented her with a sweet-smelling bouquet.
Another time, she might’ve enjoyed the view.
But not today.
“I’m coming, Lilly. I won’t let him hurt you.” She spoke aloud, hoping her words would somehow wend their way into her twin’s brain.
Then she stretched out her arm and pulled her body forward yet again. Her shirt climbed up her chest and a splinter scraped the tender skin of her exposed stomach. She dragged herself another few feet.
This method was working. She was getting across with very little extra motion to hinder her progress or give her away. One rung at a time, she moved, until she was but ten yards to the end.
A break in the wind made her pulse race.
Voices.
She heard them behind her in the distance.
Ones she’d recognize anywhere: Lilly and Tommy.
Hurry!
They arrived at the bridge, the point of no return for Lilly.
It was swaying, but after all it was a swinging bridge, and Tommy couldn’t be certain if Rose had recently crossed ahead of them, or if the movement was only due to the wind.
Tommy had been patient, attentive, and downright saint-like with Lilly to this point. In return, she’d led him the wrong way, potentially costing him the chance to optimally set his trap before Rose arrived.
Lilly was lucky she was still breathing.
Now she’d better hope her sister hadn’t gotten here first.
Because Lilly could die th
e easy way, or the hard way.
He envisioned allowing Rose to revive her with the rescue injector. Then, once Lilly came to, he’d close his hands around her neck, squeezing until she lost consciousness, reviving her, doing it again . . . and again.
And all in front of dear, dear Rose.
As soon as they got across that bridge, he’d punch Lilly in the throat.
But for now, he wanted her upright and crossing under her own power. He gave her a little shove, and they both stepped onto the bridge—Lilly walking a bit ahead—creeping, really.
At a maddeningly slow pace.
When at last they reached the other side, Lilly suddenly slumped and fell forward onto her knees.
Dammit.
He’d estimated he’d have at least five minutes more before she passed out.
This was all Lilly’s fault for getting them lost along the way.
Then, up ahead, a flash of movement caught his eye. Rose.
She’d beaten him to the meeting place after all.
Adrenaline, with a sidecar of anger, raced through him.
He grabbed Lilly around the waist and hoisted her to her feet. “Hang on, sweetie, I’ve got you.”
She looked up at him with dazed eyes, still filled with trust.
Poor Lilly.
Rose peeked out from her hiding place.
Lilly!
Tommy carried her to the fat trunk of a tree and sat down out in the open, not bothering to hide, with Lilly’s limp body propped up in front of him.
Please, please let her be breathing.
Rose raised her pistol.
Do not falter.
Then just as quickly, she lowered her arm.
Not because she wasn’t willing to shoot Tommy Preston in order to save her sister’s life, but because she didn’t trust her aim enough to fire on him while he was using Lilly as a human shield.
Think.
Tommy was looking straight at the boulder where Rose had taken cover. Just as if he knew exactly which outcropping of rocks she’d be hiding behind and exactly what moment she’d choose to come out to face him.
She steeled her jaw and stepped out into the open, Pierre’s Glock pointed at Tommy. “Move away from Lilly. I’m going to give her the antidote.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got a gun in her back. You’re not the one giving the orders. You’re the one taking them.”
She wrapped her finger around the trigger.
This was her fault.
If both she and Tommy had to give their lives for Lilly’s so be it. “And I’ve got SADIE, so yes, I am the one in charge. I’m coming over. Shoot me if you want, but if you do, everything you’ve spent your life building will be destroyed. Just let me give her the medicine and then we can talk.”
As she crept toward her sister, her eyes filled with tears. If Lilly lived, would Rose ever be able to make her believe that all her actions, wrong though they may have been, had been motivated by her desire to protect her?
Had a plan ever failed more miserably?
Rose’s stomach soured at the memory of Tommy’s hands on her. She’d let a man she despised touch her, enter her, claim her. Then she’d married that man, even though he made her blood run cold. All of it had been for Lilly, and all of it had backfired.
“Stop right there.” Tommy’s voice had a quiet calm about it that terrified her more than if he’d yelled out in anger.
She drew up short, keeping her pistol trained on an imaginary dot in the middle of his forehead.
“I’ll let you give Lilly the naloxone. After all, that’s why I provided it. But first you need to show me the thumb drive and to prove you’re acting in good faith, put down your pistol. Are there any other copies of the file?”
“No. But if I put down my pistol, what’s to stop you from shooting me and taking the drive out of my hand?”
He grinned. “Nothing except my word. And your word is all I have that there are no copies. You must know by now that when I bargain with the devil, I keep my end.” He placed one hand near Lilly’s lips. “I don’t feel her breathing. Do you want to stand around and negotiate? Or rescue your sister?”
Lilly was out of time, and only Rose could save her.
She pulled a clear baggie from her pocket and waved it in the air. “Here’s SADIE. I’m putting it here, on the ground . . . next to my Glock.”
“Good girl.” Keeping his pistol in hand, but lowered, Tommy gently laid Lilly on the ground beside him. Then he climbed to his feet and waved Rose over.
In an instant, she was kneeling beside her sister, the auto-injector in hand.
Wordlessly, she pulled it from its case and yanked the red stopper from the bottom to activate the pen.
An eerie robotic voice sounded in the air, speaking instructions.
Rose raised her hand, and then gasped.
Bile rose in Tommy’s throat.
What the holy hell was going on?
Lilly had a tight grip on Rose’s wrist, blocking her from jabbing her with the needle.
Rose jumped back, and Lilly rolled, catapulted to her feet, then charged.
Before Tommy could move, she crashed her knee into his groin, doubling him over with a sickening pain.
Bitch!
Lilly’s teeth gouged his cheek, and her heel slammed onto his foot. She grabbed his balls and twisted.
His stomach went woozy.
She kicked him again.
And again.
Then he was on the ground, rolling downhill heading straight for a heap of jagged boulders.
The last thing he saw before his world went black was Lilly—she was laughing.
Chapter 33
Sunday
Road to Taravao Plateau
Tahiti Iti
“Turn around. Let Brousseau go instead.” Dutch’s voice blasted out of Caity’s speakerphone as their 4x4 bounced over the rocky terrain.
The Jeep slipped and Spense steered into the skid to correct it.
Just minutes ago, they’d reached the unpaved section of road. It was slipperier than black ice, and when you were driving like hell, more dangerous.
As the Jeep flew over another rut, Spense’s teeth slammed together, rattling his skull.
“Lives are at stake, Dutch,” Caity yelled back, above the roar of the road and the wind. “We can lose reception any minute so listen up. Brousseau’s on the other side of Iti near Mana Falls. We can’t get a connection with his phone, but you can try to radio him. I just sent you a photo of a map. When you reach him, talk him through it. Tell him to meet us at the X by the swinging bridge.”
“I’ll get him there. Will you turn around?” Dutch yelled.
“He might not be in time. His men have to hike out. We’re on wheels,” Spense said.
An ear-splitting screech sounded.
“Wheels that squeal.” It was Gretchen.
“Is Dutch on the radio to Brousseau yet?” Spense asked.
“Yes,” Gretchen said. “Your vehicle sounds like crap.”
“It does. Now that’s settled,” Spense said, and spit blood from his mouth, careful not to hit Caity with it. “Tell us about the interview with Jessica Prosper. Talk fast.”
A slew of static came over the line and Caity pounded her fist onto the dash. “Dammit. We lost . . .”
But then the phone crackled and they heard Gretchen’s voice once more. “It’s big. And you’re right about this reception so I won’t leave you in suspense. Nurse Jessica Prosper filed a complaint against Anna Parker after Prosper got fired from Riverbend Memorial. Seems ‘Anna’ hired Prosper as well as an actress to pull a scam. Prosper lost her job and ‘Anna’ disappeared without paying her. So a very ticked off Prosper filed a report. At the time, the cops thought it was BS.”
“Why the hell would a nurse help anyone pull a scam?”
“I say it was for the money, but Prosper claimed she thought she was doing a good deed. ‘Anna’ told Prosper that her sister, Lilly—I hope you’re paying attentio
n here.”
Caity yanked at her hair.
Like they needed a reminder.
“Anna said her sister, Lilly, was in an abusive relationship. That she needed to make her see how bad this man was. Scare her off of him.”
Spense muttered a curse and went back to focusing on keeping them upright.
“Anna got a makeup artist to fix it up like this actress was bruised and beaten. Then they set her up in a closed wing of Riverbend Memorial for the day. Texted Lilly to come down there on urgent business.”
“You just lost me,” Spense said. “The way we heard it, Rose went to visit Pamela Jean and then warned Lilly off. But Lilly didn’t believe her.”
“That’s right. It was Rose who met the fake Pamela Jean.”
“You said Lilly.”
“I said pay attention. Nurse Prosper said it was Lilly. But when we e-mailed her the photos of the twins, she insisted that Rose, claiming to be Lilly, came down to visit with Pamela Jean—I mean the actress who played Pamela Jean.”
“So if Rose was in fact pretending to be Lilly when she met Pamela Jean, then Lilly was the one who hired the actress,” Caity said.
“Correct.”
The phone tried to jump from Caity’s hand.
“How the . . . what the . . . did she say why?”
“Prosper doesn’t know why. And frankly, neither do I.”
Lilly.
“Thanks. Hanging up to save my battery.”
“Wait . . . your wedding . . . what should we tell the moms?”
The phone spewed more static.
“Can you hear me?” Caity asked. “Gretchen?” Shaking her head, she powered off the phone. “Service bars disappeared. What do you think Lilly is up to?”
“I’m still trying to get it straight in my head. If the whole Pamela Jean scenario was a con, and Lilly is the one who set it up, that means we can’t rely on anything she’s told us. And if I have to leap to a conclusion, I’m betting that whatever game she’s playing has a lot to do with those life insurance policies.”
Chapter 34
Sunday
Taravao Plateau
Countdown Page 23
