Abandoned

by Allison Brennan

  Max considered what Colter could have seen in her office.

  The timeline.

  The postcard from Paris was sent in May. If Martha had been sexually involved with Colter then—at the same time as he appeared to have stolen the Caravaggio—Colter might believe Eve was his daughter.

  “Gabriel, we have to be extremely cautious.”

  “Fuck caution! I need her back. God, if he hurts her I will kill him.”

  “Listen to me!” She had to shout over the engine as they practically flew over the choppy waves. “Colter might believe that Eve is his daughter. I know Martha was in Paris nine months before Eve was born. She probably put ‘unknown’ on the birth certificate because she didn’t know if Jimmy or Colter was Eve’s father. That can help. If he thinks she is his flesh and blood, he won’t want to hurt her—he’ll want to convince her.”

  “You can’t possibly know that. I’m trading that damn Degas. I don’t care about a stupid painting, I only care about Eve. I have to protect her, Max. If you can’t help, you need to jump out now.”

  Like she was going to jump out of a fast moving boat into freezing water.

  They approached the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and Gabriel navigated expertly. He was also typing on a small computer built into the small pilothouse on the boat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “All Havenly boats have GPS built in. I’m searching for it.”

  “You should have told Ryan.”

  “He’s never going to turn over the painting for Eve. It’s all he cares about.”

  “Human life is always more important,” she said, but Gabriel wasn’t really listening to her.

  Max pulled out her phone and sent Ryan a text message.

  Gabriel is tracking Haven III via GPS.

  As soon as Gabriel cleared the bridge, he started working on his radio. “Haven III, this is Haven Scout. Colter, it’s Gabriel Truman. Pick up the radio. Over.”

  Silence.

  “Colter, I swear, if you hurt my daughter I will kill you. I have something you want, and I’m ready to make a trade.”

  Silence.

  “Why isn’t he answering me?” Gabriel cried out. “There!” He was looking at an image on his onboard computer. Gabriel adjusted his course and increased his speed, just when Max thought they were traveling at the maximum. “I found you, you fucking bastard. He’s heading up the coast, toward Delaware and Jersey.”

  “You need a plan. He’ll see you coming.” Max texted Ryan the message. She didn’t know if her messages were getting through—she had an intermittent signal on her phone, though she could still see the shore. Gabriel had turned northeast and was parallel, for the most part, to the coastline.

  “Gabriel, you have to talk to me,” Max said.

  “Will you give up the Degas?”

  “He’s not going to make the trade if he thinks Eve is his daughter.”

  “Yes, he will! He’s a greedy bastard.”

  “He’ll want everything. Eve and the painting.”

  “We just need to get her back.” His voice cracked.

  “We will. You have to trust Ryan and the Coast Guard. They know what they’re doing.”

  “It’ll take too long for them to get up here. They’re coming out of Norfolk. We don’t have time. I can’t leave her alone with that man.”

  His radio beeped. “Truman?”

  “Colter,” Gabriel said. “Let her go and I’ll give you the Degas.”

  Silence. Again.

  “Dammit, talk to me!”

  * * *

  Gabriel Truman had the Degas. Had he had his painting the entire time hidden away? Had he been in cahoots with his brother? Phillip hated not having all the information he needed to make a decision.

  But one decision was easy.

  He was not trading away his daughter.

  But he wanted the Degas, too.

  He picked up the radio again. “Where is it?”

  “Safe.”

  “That isn’t good enough.”

  “Bring Eve to shore and I’ll bring you the painting.”

  He laughed. “So you can send the police to pick me up? I’m safer on the water. I’ll send a colleague to retrieve the painting. Then we’ll talk about Eve.”

  “No.”

  “Some things,” Phillip said, “are more important than art. Like family. My family.”

  He turned off the radio and turned to his daughter, who was tied to the captain’s chair because she had tried to get away not once, but twice.

  Naughty girl. But she would change.

  He had never considered having a family. Maybe once, long ago, when he was younger and virile and had his pick of women. And maybe once, not as long ago, when he was in love with Martha Revere—at least the woman he thought Martha Revere was before she humiliated him.

  “Eve,” he said calmly, “I knew your mother very well. She stole from me, but I loved her once. A true, real love that I had never felt before in my life, or since. I hate that she kept you from me.”

  “You’re not my father.”

  “Gabriel has been lying to you for your entire life. Maybe he didn’t know the truth, but he knew he was not your father. I am. I spent nearly two weeks in Paris with your mother nine months before you were born. A simple blood test will prove it.”

  “I don’t care, I will never, ever stay with you.”

  “Child, I don’t expect you to understand. I have a yacht waiting for me, and then we will disappear. I have a plan, and even if the FBI sends out the Coast Guard, they are too far away to reach us in time. Then, when we’re settled, I’ll have all the time in the world to explain to you who I am. You will understand.” He would make her understand. It wasn’t his fault, or even her fault, that Martha Revere was a lying, cheating, thieving whore.

  “You shot Uncle Brian. You killed him!”

  “The man lied to me, he lied to you. He knew you weren’t Gabriel’s daughter yet didn’t think it was important enough to tell me? He was a fool. I asked him to get everything from Maxine Revere’s cottage, and he brought me photos that meant nothing. Not until I saw for myself. You don’t understand yet, but you will. I can give you everything, Eve. Everything.”

  “I don’t want anything from you!”

  “How can you side with those people? Do you even know who your mother was? Martha Revere, she was beautiful. You look so much like her. So much…” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “She should have told me from the beginning that you were mine. I would have taken care of both of you. I would have forgiven her for stealing from me, for lying to me, because she gave me something precious. A child.” He paused. “I was married once, years ago. We tried for ten years to have a baby. It was her fault we couldn’t. Something wrong with her uterus. She tried to say it was me, that my sperm wasn’t good enough. She was obviously wrong, because it produced you. Martha did one thing right in her life, and I’m not going to stand aside and let another man raise you.”

  “Gabriel did raise me. I’m sixteen. Gabriel Truman is my dad, and he always will be.”

  Phillip scowled. “Enough. Vance, how far out are we?”

  Vance went up to the helm and talked to Pete, who was piloting the boat. He called back down, “Six minutes to the rendezvous.”

  “I need some air. Watch her.”

  * * *

  “That is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” Max said.

  “It’s the only way. I can’t do it without you.”

  Gabriel had sophisticated equipment on the cruiser, and he suspected that Colter was heading toward a larger vessel on the edge of international waters because of the limited fuel capacity of the Haven III. While the Coast Guard could board the boat if they knew where it was, he determined that they were still too far out—and they didn’t know what kind of weapons the ship had, whether there was a helicopter or another escape plan.

  Max didn’t want to play decoy, but Gabriel had a point—if they approached the Haven III
, Colter would likely kill them, or at a minimum, incapacitate the boat. Maybe Gabriel finally realized that Colter would take Eve over the Degas, at least right now. She was his new toy. He would figure he could come back for the Degas, or leverage Gabriel for it once he was safely away.

  Gabriel figured out a way he could get to the larger vessel first. He’d already been coming at the boat from a different angle.

  “Max, the Coast Guard is twenty minutes away. Colter will be at the ship in two minutes, he could have reinforcements—hell, I don’t know!”

  Max hated the idea, though Gabriel had a point. Still, they didn’t know who these people were, if they were a charter or fully in on Colter’s plan. She’d tried to explain as much to Gabriel, but he wasn’t listening.

  “Please, I need you. Otherwise I’m going to do it alone.”

  Guilt seeped in. Real guilt. Eve was her sister, but she was Gabriel’s daughter, blood or no. And Max had started this ball rolling by coming to town and asking questions.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  Gabriel maxed out the engine. They saw a ship with a Canadian flag. It was a luxury yacht, one of the nicest Max had ever seen—and she’d been on many pricey yachts. A charter? Did Colter own it? If Colter owned it, they were really screwed. The only thing they had at that point was negotiating with the Degas—and Max might be able to stall Colter long enough for the Coast Guard to arrive.

  “You ready?” Gabriel asked. His eyes were half crazy but determined.

  No.

  She nodded.

  Gabriel went on the radio. “Mayday, Mayday, Canadian vessel—this is Haven Scout. I have an onboard emergency. Mayday.”

  “Haven Scout, what is your emergency? Over.”

  “My wife just had a seizure. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s unconscious and I need to get her to shore—you’re a faster boat.”

  “We don’t have the authority to go to shore.”

  “Please, she’s going to die.”

  “We don’t have a doctor on board.”

  “You have a heliport—I contacted the Coast Guard already, but they’re too far out to help. Please, she can’t die on me.”

  Silence. So long that Max was certain they were in serious trouble.

  “Haven Scout, you may board.”

  “That was too easy,” Max said.

  “They were probably hired by Colter, a charter. They might not know what he’s doing, and they’re not going to know me. Lie down. Be boneless. That’s the only way this is going to work.”

  * * *

  Ryan begged the Coast Guard to let him ride in the rescue chopper. Fortunately, he’d worked with the agency enough over the years that they acquiesced. He hadn’t been able to reach Max after sending the ETA, but when the Coast Guard got a call from a Canadian vessel, a sixty-five meter Hessen-built yacht that Ryan knew could go as fast as many of the Coast Guard cutters, that there was an unconscious, unresponsive woman taken from a small U.S. boat, he knew it had to be Max. Was this a trick? Or was she really hurt?

  “They called you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Maybe it’s a trick. Maybe it’s not them.”

  “The Haven III is on a clear trajectory to the Canadian Infinity. A boat the size of the Haven isn’t going to get much farther.”

  “They said we could board. It’s a small pad, but we can make it.”

  “ETA?”

  “Twelve minutes if they remain anchored.”

  * * *

  Phillip pulled up alongside the luxury yacht he’d chartered to take them to Nova Scotia, where he had a plane waiting to take him to Paris. He hated to leave the Degas, but he only half believed Truman that he had it. A bird in the hand, he thought, as he turned to his daughter. She had a bruised jaw, but he’d cleaned the blood from her face. Still, she was defiant, and there was no telling what she might do.

  “This is for your own good,” he said, injected her with a sedative and then untied her.

  “I hate you.” She tried to hit him, but the drugs already affected her muscles.

  “All children go through a phase of hating their parents. You’ll get over it.”

  Rene, the crew member who had been part of Colter’s team in the past, helped them with their bags while Vance carried Eve. Pete left with the Haven III. He would dock at the first opportunity and go in search of the Degas, in case Truman wasn’t lying. But he was also a distraction. If the authorities had learned about the boat, they would track it, not the Canadian vessel.

  “We have a problem.”

  Colter fumed. “What?”

  “We encountered a vessel in distress and the captain allowed the occupants on to the boat.”

  “They’ll have to come with us to Nova Scotia.”

  “He contacted the Coast Guard. The woman is unconscious. He wants to wait for the Guard. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Medical quarters.”

  “The captain?”

  “Pilothouse.”

  Colter fumed. “Vance, take Eve to the cabins. Secure her. Rene, come with me.”

  They walked up two flights of stairs to the pilothouse. “You know what has to be done, Rene.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

  They entered the pilothouse. “You must be Mr. Colter,” the captain said. “We had a slight emergency, but we’ll be on our way shortly.”

  “We leave now.”

  “That’s not possible, we have a medical emergency, but I can make up the time—we have clear weather all the way to Nova Scotia.”

  Colter took out his gun. “The boat moves now or you’re dead.”

  When the captain didn’t budge, Colter shot him—three times because he didn’t like anyone disobeying him.

  “Get us out of here, Rene. Now.”

  “Y-yes, s-s-sir,” Rene said and took over for the captain.

  * * *

  As soon as the first mate left them in the small medical bay, Gabriel listened, whispered to Max, “Stay here, play possum. I’m going to look around.”

  He slipped out. He was familiar with the Hessen-built luxury boat. It was fast, it was sleek, and really a terrific boat that could withstand rough waters.

  He heard a ramp being lowered to another boat. He’d anchored the Scout on the starboard side, hoping that Colter wouldn’t see it. If he saw it, all bets were off.

  He walked down the hall to the outer door, but squatted to avoid being seen.

  He watched through a portal. He didn’t see Colter—sensing two men walking up the metal stairs just out of his line of sight—but a large man was carrying Eve in the opposite direction. She was unconscious or sick. Her hair hung limply around her face. His anger mounted.

  But he waited. He had to get to Eve and protect her, wait until the Coast Guard landed. Colter had only one man with him—the other goon left on the Haven III. While the captain who had let them board wasn’t part of Colter’s inner group, Colter didn’t know how many on board were involved. A bare-bones crew on a ship this size might be four. How many were here? How many with Colter?

  Gabriel couldn’t take any chances. He had to get Eve to safety, then he would go after Phillip Colter.

  He watched and saw what room Colter’s big thug carried Eve into. The man left a minute later. Gabriel was waiting for him to disappear from the outer corridor when he heard a gunshot.

  Then two more.

  They came from the pilothouse.

  Less than a minute later Gabriel heard the engines start.

  * * *

  The boat started moving.

  First gunfire, then movement. Something had gone very wrong. Was Gabriel dead? Were they coming for her next? She had to find Eve and some way to get her out of here. Or hide her until the Coast Guard arrived. They should be only minutes away.

  Dammit, Gabriel! What went wrong?

  She sat up and listened. All she heard was the engine, which seemed to be right
beneath her. Max looked at her cell phone—no signal. She cautiously opened the door and didn’t see anyone.

  The luxury yacht was set up with the crew quarters down below, and the guest quarters on deck, with a second level for the living and the galley, then the pilothouse up top. There were several decks, a lot of open space in the back, but where she was, behind the galley, there wasn’t much of anything other than a couple of rooms and two long halls.

  Max had been on boats like this in the past, owned by friends of her mother’s. Her grandparents had never taken to the seas—her grandmother got severely seasick.

  But Max had been on enough yachts as a child and as an adult to figure her way around. She went down the hall, then up the stairs on the aft side. She listened carefully. The boat began to pick up speed so quickly that she almost lost her footing. She regained her balance and continued forward slowly, hoping she wasn’t making a fatal mistake.

  * * *

  “It’s leaving,” Ryan said to the Coast Guard pilot.

  The pilot tried to hail the ship. He identified himself then said, “Canadian vessel, we are four minutes out. You need to slow to less than a knot so we can land on your helipad.”

  There was no answer.

  “Canadian vessel Infinity, this is the United States Coast Guard. Reduce speed now and prepare to be boarded.”

  There was no answer.

  “You have to land,” Ryan said.

  “Landing at that speed on that small of a pad is too dangerous, Maguire.”

  “Drop me.”

  “You’ve never trained for this. I’m not dropping you on deck. The cutter is only two minutes behind us.”

  “That boat is gaining speed—how fast can it go?”

  The pilot didn’t answer.

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “That model, if customized, goes almost as fast as our cutters. But we’ll catch up. It might take a bit longer, but we’ll gain on them.”