Moriah's Landing Bundle

by Amanda Stevens

  Kat gasped, dropping the light as she stumbled back. The smell alone almost knocked Jonah to his knees as he picked up the flashlight and shone it down into the box.

  “What was that?” he heard Kat ask breathlessly.

  “A mummified body.”

  “It’s…hideous.”

  Jonah couldn’t have agreed more, the image of the wild hair, the sunken eye sockets, the grinning teeth…That on top of the drug Brody had given him earlier…He shone the light on what he’d seen printed to the side of each box and felt his stomach lurch.

  Each box was marked with a woman’s name, the name of the cemetery in England where her body had been stolen from and a pentagram—the sign of a witch.

  “Why would anyone want those?” Kat said in a whisper a few feet away from him.

  “For research,” he said, more to himself than to her. These mummified bodies were worth a fortune to any scientist in the secret society. The question was, who’d brought them from England?

  “What are we going to do with them?” she asked.

  He started to reach for his cell phone. It was time to involve the FBI. But he never got it from his jacket pocket before he saw the figure appear from its hiding place on the far side of the boxes closest to Kat.

  Jonah went for Brody’s gun that he’d stuffed into his shoulder holster while he’d pried open the box. But he wasn’t fast enough.

  The figure grabbed Kat around the neck and dragged her to him, putting a gun to her head. “Don’t think I won’t kill her.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jonah had forgotten about Deke. Obviously the forty-eight hours that the feds could hold him were up. But from Deke’s expression and the weapon he had pointed at Kat’s head, Deke hadn’t forgotten.

  “Thought you had me locked up, didn’t you, you bastard,” Deke said, pulling Kat tighter against him, the barrel of his gun at her temple. “I knew you were back in Moriah’s Landing. The moment the feds hit me with some trumped-up interrogation crap, I knew.”

  “She doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Jonah said, not interested in the chip on Deke’s shoulder. All he cared about was Kat. “Let her go.”

  Deke smiled. “Just goes to show what you don’t know about anything. Speaking of knowing something, I know you’re wearing that shoulder holster, the one you were always so fond of. Reach inside real easy, pull out that gun you took off poor Brody and kick it over here. Then we’ll talk about me letting Kat here go.”

  Did Deke not realize that Jonah still had Kat’s little Beretta? He’d stuck it in the waistband of his jeans, under his coat.

  “Come on, we don’t have all night,” Deke snapped. There was a mean edge to his tone. Deke had been furious when Jonah had taken the stand, his testimony putting the former agent behind bars for three years. Deke should have gotten a lot more, but he made a deal and got off with a light sentence.

  Obviously, even a short prison stay didn’t seem to have done him any good. If anything, Deke seemed more angry and vengeful.

  But what was the hurry? Why didn’t they have all night?

  Jonah pulled Brody’s weapon from his holster, slowly, carefully, pretty sure Deke was just aching to kill him, and at the same time wondering what Brody had done with his .38. Probably thrown it overboard. Was there any chance he’d put it down belowdecks? Put it somewhere where Kat might have found it while Jonah had been on the Audrey Lynn?

  He could see her face in the moonlight, her dark blue eyes questioning as if waiting for him to tell her what he wanted her to do. He hadn’t noticed before, but she wore black jeans and a large black sweatshirt. He met her gaze, trying to send her a message from his mind to hers. Everything is going to be all right. You don’t happen to have the .38 by any chance?

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t sense what she was thinking. She looked scared, but not terrified. He hoped she didn’t try anything. Deke would kill her just for the fun of it. Just to see Jonah suffer.

  No, he thought. Deke wasn’t going to kill her. The thought came to him clear as day. That decision wasn’t up to Deke. Someone else was running this show—a man who wanted Kat alive because the moon wouldn’t be full until tomorrow night.

  Deke was just a hired gun, his only qualification for the job: he hated Jonah Ries enough to kill him.

  Jonah kicked the gun over to Deke and watched Kat grimace, her hand going to her right side as Deke pulled her down to pick up the gun. He threw it into the Atlantic, never taking the barrel of his weapon from her temple.

  “Now let her go,” Jonah said, trying to sound bored by all this. “Then we can talk about making a deal. Do you realize what’s in those boxes?”

  “Something that smells like hell.”

  “Something worth a small fortune, if you know who to offer them to,” Jonah said.

  Deke looked interested, greed pushing aside good sense as he shoved Kat over to the box Jonah had opened. “Damn, what’s in there?” he asked, obviously having gotten another whiff of the contents.

  “Mummified dead women,” Jonah said, remembering that Deke had always been squeamish when it came to dead bodies, something to do with his grandmother and a spilled casket when he was little.

  “Not just dead women, dead witches,” Jonah added, knowing how superstitious he was, as well.

  The one thing that didn’t faze the ex-FBI agent was killing. It had to be impersonal enough, as long as he could just blow people away and split. But Deke had a thing about distancing himself from the dead. “You never want to look a dead person in the eyes,” he’d once told Jonah. “They’ll take you with them, sure as hell.”

  “How much money?” Deke asked, motioning to the boxes full of bodies. “These are for genetic experiments, aren’t they? Hell, they must be worth a fortune. I mean, how many old dead witches are there to dig up?”

  Deke wasn’t as stupid as he looked.

  “First, you let Kat go.” Jonah had to know if this strong, sure feeling was on target.

  Deke looked sincerely bummed. “I can’t do that, I’m afraid. You see, she’s part of the deal I made and it’s a deal I can’t go back on. I know what happened to the last agent.”

  “What did they do to Max?” Jonah asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

  “They fed him to the fish,” Deke said flippantly. “The same thing they’re going to do to you.”

  Jonah could hear a boat motor in the distance. Someone was coming. They must have had a tracking device on Brody’s vessel and were now homing in on them. Soon Jonah wasn’t going to like the odds.

  He noticed Kat was still holding her right side, but the look in her eyes had changed. If only he could know what she was thinking. All those years of fighting his mystical heritage. He took a chance. One hell of a gamble.

  “You kill her and they’ll do a lot worse than that to you, won’t they?” Jonah said. Slowly, he pulled the Beretta from his waistband. Deke yelled for him to stop. Jonah held his breath as he leveled the barrel at Deke’s head, afraid he’d hear a gunshot, afraid he’d just cost Kat her life.

  “Let her go, Deke. She isn’t worth dying over. You can tell them I got the jump on you. They’ll believe that.”

  Deke looked scared but not convinced Jonah would take the shot—not with Kat’s head so close to his. “Sorry, Jonah, but I think we got ourselves a Mexican standoff here. You pull the trigger, I kill your girlfriend. In a few minutes, it will all be moot anyway.” The other boat was getting closer, the motor roaring as it bore down on them.

  “Maybe not,” Kat said as she lifted the sweatshirt to reveal Jonah’s .38. In one swift movement, she pulled it and stuck the barrel into Deke’s ribs. There wasn’t much he could do, considering one hand was holding the pistol to her head and the other arm was wrapped around her neck.

  He tightened his hold on her neck, but she slammed the .38 deeper into his ribs in reprisal.

  Deke swore. “You bitch!” He shoved her, sending her flying across the deck at Jonah.


  Jonah got off one shot. He saw Deke grab his left arm as he dived over the side of the boat. There was a splash, then nothing but the sound of the other boat, so close now Jonah could see only its bow as it barreled down on them.

  The boat slammed into the side of theirs, knocking Jonah to the deck, the Beretta skittering across the fiberglass out of his reach as Brody’s craft keeled over at a forty-five-degree angle.

  The boxes with the mummified bodies tipped, the highest ones toppling over. One of them burst open as it hit the deck, bones scattering.

  Kat had gotten to her feet just moments before. She’d had her back turned to the oncoming boat, watching Jonah. He hadn’t had time to warn her before the boat hit. She went down hard. He heard her head hit the deck and then she didn’t move.

  A spotlight shot down from the larger vessel that had hit them broadside, blinding him as he tried to grope his way to her.

  “No!” he heard someone cry out. “Don’t hurt her!” Tommy. It was Tommy Cavendish’s voice. Then the sound of feet hitting the deck as someone jumped aboard Brody’s boat.

  Jonah crawled over to Kat. The last thing he remembered was touching her cheek, realizing how cold it felt, then seeing the blood pooling beneath her head. Something hard struck his skull and the lights went out.

  KAT WOKE TO THE SMELL of fish, the sound of water lapping at wood and darkness. She opened her eyes, instantly aware of the pain. Her fingers went to the back of her head. She winced at the knot the size of a goose egg just above her ear.

  Someone had bandaged her head. For an instant, that gave her hope. Someone who planned to hurt you wouldn’t dress your wounds, would they?

  She tried to sit up, realizing she was on some sort of table or bench. In a boathouse? She could feel the gentle rocking. She was definitely on the water. But as she pulled up, she heard the jangle of chains, then pain shot up her right wrist as something cold cut into her flesh and jerked her back down.

  Rolling onto her right side, she looked down. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the light. It wasn’t total darkness. A little light leaked in through the cracks in the boards of her prison. But it still took a moment for what she saw to register.

  Her right wrist had been handcuffed to a piece of pipe fastened to the wall next to the bench where she lay. She pulled to see if the pipe would give, hoping…It didn’t. That’s when she noticed her right leg was also chained to the pipe.

  Panic raced like fire through her. Someone had left her here to die. She went rigid with fear. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She fought to catch her breath. She opened her mouth and tried to scream. Only a small, insignificant sound escaped. She tried again, her scream bouncing off the walls then dying away in echoes. She screamed again and again until her throat hurt, her head pounding.

  No one came. She heard no other sound, except for the water lapping at the boards. She’d thought she might be near the abandoned cannery building by the wharf, but someone would have heard her. And her captives would have known that. They wouldn’t have left her in a place where she could be rescued. Not that easily.

  She lay back down, her head aching. She wasn’t going anywhere. She had to stop panicking. She had to think. Her first clear thought was of Jonah. Where was he? Tears rushed to her eyes. She wiped them away hurriedly with her free hand. Crying wouldn’t help. Nor hoping for Jonah to rescue her. She was on her own.

  She waited until her heartbeat slowed enough that her head wasn’t pounding, then she sat up and looked around the room she was in, searching for something to use to pry the pipe. While it appeared to be well fastened to the wall, the boards had to be weakened by the years and the saltwater. She hoped.

  She spotted an old wrench on the floorboards not far away. But how could she reach it? She wasn’t that far off the floor. In fact, she could drop her left hand a few inches over the side of the bench. But she was still about a foot short of touching the wrench. What did she have that she could use to lasso the tool? She looked down, assessing what she had on. Not the jeans. Or the sweatshirt. Nor would she be able to tear the material to make a rope.

  Suddenly, her head didn’t hurt quite so badly as she remembered that she’d worn a belt. Hurriedly she began to work it free from her jeans with her left hand. If she could make a loop at the end…If she could drag the wrench over close enough…She went to work, noticing as she did that the sun was sinking over the Atlantic, amazed she’d been out for so many hours. It wouldn’t be that long before she was pitched into the blackness of night. Until the moon rose up over the ocean. And tonight, the moon would be full.

  JONAH WOKE to the sound of Deke’s voice and just assumed he’d died and gone to hell.

  “Why are you keeping him alive?” Deke demanded some distance away. “You said I could kill him.”

  At first Jonah thought the sobbing he heard in the background was Kat. He forced his eyes open, his head aching from where someone had hit him. He didn’t know how long he’d been out. His mouth felt dry as cotton and, as the floor beneath him pitched and rolled, he realized he was sick to his stomach. They must have drugged him again.

  He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way the floor moved. He must be on a boat. Nothing else moved quite like this. He thought he could hear the motor, felt the vibration as the boat moved through the water. It wasn’t Kat crying.

  He opened his eyes and lifted his head just a little. Deke was still arguing. Jonah could see him silhouetted against the light. Another figure sat just out of view. The sobbing came from the corner. Jonah looked that way, but instead of Kat, it was Tommy Cavendish, his head on his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs.

  Jonah stared at him, willing the boy to look up. It took all his strength, but after a few moments, Tommy did look up. Even from here, Jonah could see the dried blood on the boy’s mouth and shirt. He locked eyes with Tommy for a moment, then let his head fall back, closing his eyes to the sickness that washed over him.

  “Get someone else to unload those boxes,” Deke was saying. “Man, they stink. I’ll puke if you make me do it.”

  “Then puke,” snapped a voice. “But shut the hell up.”

  Jonah felt his heart drop in his chest, his stomach roiled as he recognized the voice. Maybe he was dead. Maybe they were all dead. Definitely in hell.

  “I think Jonah’s awake,” he heard Deke say. “I think I saw him move.”

  Someone prodded at him with a pole. He tried not to react, but did. Slowly, he opened his eyes, afraid of what he’d see. A man stepped into view, a face peering down at him.

  “Tell me we’re all dead and in hell,” Jonah said, his voice only a whisper, his mouth was so dry.

  Missing FBI agent Max Weathers smiled down at him. “I’m the only one who’s dead and I plan to stay that way.”

  “Let me kill him now,” Deke demanded, pushing his way into Jonah’s vision. “The bastard shot me.” Deke held up his bandaged arm.

  “It was just a flesh wound,” Max said impatiently. “We’re almost there. I need you to unload the boxes, then you can kill him.”

  “To hell with that,” Deke snapped. “You unload your own damn boxes. I told you, they stink, and whether you like it or not, I’m wounded and it’s a lot more than a damn flesh—”

  The gunshot resounded through the boat, so close Jonah could smell the powder, almost feel the recoil. Deke grabbed a handful of Jonah’s shirt as he went down, pulling Jonah up from the boards. Deke hit the floor, blood gushing from the chest wound as his grip on Jonah’s shirt suddenly released.

  “Now you’re wounded,” Max said as he returned his weapon to the holster at his back.

  Overhead, someone yelled down that they had the dock in sight. Jonah felt Max look down at him. He shifted his own gaze from Deke’s dead body to the agent standing over him, hoping Max would tell him he was still working undercover and not to worry, he had everything under control.

  But the moment Jonah looked into the man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t going to b
e the case.

  “I can either pump you more full of drugs or tie you up, your choice,” Max said. “I’m being paid to deliver you alive or I’d just as soon shoot you.”

  That was clear enough. “No more drugs,” Jonah managed to say, pretending he was more out of it than he was.

  “Okay,” Max said, grabbing up a length of nylon rope, making Jonah wonder who had been tied up before him. Kat? “Where is she?” he managed to say.

  Max studied him as he bound his hands. “You’ll see her again.”

  Jonah couldn’t help the hope that surged through him. “Then she’s alive?”

  Max nodded as he bound Jonah’s ankles together with a separate piece of rope. As he finished, he glanced toward the porthole. “For the time being, she is.”

  Jonah closed his eyes and willed his body to go to sleep—at least to appear that way. He could hear Max still standing over him listening as his breathing dropped into a steady rhythm, his eyelids fluttered, his pulse dropped. Max didn’t seem to remember Tommy huddled in the corner crying as he left. No doubt he thought he had the boy completely cowered. Jonah feared he did.

  The moment Jonah heard Max’s tread on the stairs, he opened his eyes and looked over at Tommy. The boy had his head down again, but raised it as if sensing Jonah looking at him. Jonah tilted his chin, motioning the boy over.

  “Untie me,” Jonah whispered. “Hurry.”

  For a moment Tommy stared down at him, his face frozen in fear. “He’ll hurt me again,” the boy whispered.

  “He’ll kill Kat if you don’t help me,” Jonah whispered back with a knowing that it was the only thing that could get the boy to help him.

  Tommy hesitated only a moment, then began to work at the knots at Jonah’s wrists.

  KAT HOOKED THE END of the wrench with her belt and began the slow, torturous drag across the weathered boards toward her. It was awkward with her left hand. She’d already hooked the tool numerous times, only to have the belt slip off. Her arm ached and she felt sick with worry that her attempts were futile. She was running out of time.