Bad Road to Nowhere

by Linda Ladd

  Novak just frowned down at her. He did not want company right now. Not even Claire.

  Claire was talking again. “So we took a break from our honeymoon ecstasies and here I am. I was just going to offer my condolences to you and fly back out, but looks to me like you need Black to make a house call out here armed with a ton of anxiety meds. Looked in the mirror lately, partner?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. You look like hell. Sorry, but you do.”

  “Maybe I’ve got good reasons.”

  “Maybe you should tell me those good reasons.”

  Novak didn’t tell her shit. She was looking down at the floor now, stepping around the bloodstains on the carpet where the dead guy Mariah had shot had breathed his last. He shut his eyes, not wanting to remember the way Mariah had looked, staring up at him out of those wide-open, dead green eyes.

  “I’m here to help, so quit acting like such a big jerk.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Yes, you do, because I know you, and I know you were probably sitting in here planning how to go after whoever killed Mariah and kill them one by one in the worst way you can think of.”

  “Good guess.”

  “That’s what I would do.”

  “You’re not going with me.”

  “Think again.”

  Novak frowned. “Just go away, Claire. Leave me alone. I’ve got work to do, damn it.”

  “Make me, Novak.”

  “For God’s sake, Claire, I am not in the mood for this kind of crap.”

  “Yeah? No joke. You’re too busy being an idiot.”

  That’s when Novak turned around and walked back to the kitchen, hit the swinging door hard enough for it to bang against the cabinet behind it, opened the fridge and got himself a beer. Claire followed him, of course. She was a woman who didn’t know when to stop or when to give up or when to give it a rest or when to take no for an answer. It was damn annoying when he didn’t want her around. Like now.

  “Might as well tell me your plans, because I’m all you got. You are going after these guys who took that kid. What’s his name again? Ryan, right?”

  Novak drank his beer. Then he nodded. Didn’t say anything else. Claire was a good friend. Even though he hadn’t known her all that long, he knew he could trust her. He was being a jerk and both of them knew it. “That kid doesn’t deserve all the stuff that’s been done to him.”

  “You know where he is?”

  “Yeah.”

  That surprised Claire. “How? Aren’t they hiding their tracks?”

  “I gave him a cell phone and told him never to let it out of his sight, especially if his mother ever got to him. I told him to hide it from her. He promised me that he would.”

  Claire started smiling. “Well, aren’t you the cleverest giant partner a gal ever had? And I like this kid already. You’re tracking the GPS, I assume. So where are they? And when are we leaving?”

  “They drove to Pensacola first and holed up there until a little while ago. In some motel, I guess. Then they flew out over the Gulf heading southeast over the Florida peninsula. Probably in a private aircraft, and probably one hired off a private airfield. Emma’s got the money to live high on, no doubt from her life of crime, and she’s going to do that, trust me. I’m waiting to make sure they’re gonna stay put wherever she’s got a place picked out, and then I’m going to kill her. And you’re heading back home to Nick to finish up your honeymoon. Right now.”

  Claire took all that in and didn’t say a word. Just got a bottle of water out of the fridge. She sat down on the same stool that Mariah had sat on when the whole sordid thing had begun. “So tell me about Mariah Murray.”

  “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Tell me about the kid.”

  “I don’t want to talk about the kid.”

  Claire unscrewed the cap on the bottle, took a long, thirsty drink, and then she said, “I am sticking to you like flypaper, Novak. Get used to it. I am not going to let you go off with that murderous look on your face. It’s scaring me right now, and I don’t scare easy. It’s making me uncomfortable, and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to kill me. I think. Oh, and by the way, there’s such a thing as law and order. You remember that little tidbit from your years at NYPD? You know. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not make a bloodbath of thou’s enemies.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Claire laughed at that. Bitterly. “You think I don’t, huh? Think some more, Novak. Think back and reflect.”

  Novak took another drink. She knew, all right. She had been through an ordeal such as he’d never witnessed before in his life and it had all started on her wedding day. Claire was a fighter. A survivor.

  “So I’m going to help you. Get used to it. I’ll handcuff us together, if need be.”

  Novak knew she was right. Knew she wouldn’t let up on him. Knew she could be a big help, too. Knew he could trust her with his life. “Okay, but I call the shots.”

  “Why does everybody always say that to me? Huh? Hell, you’d think I was a control freak or something.”

  “Just know. I do what I want. Don’t try to stop me.”

  “Depends on what you want. Right now you ought to want some sleep, some food, and a good shower and shave. Believe me. You look awful.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not in the mood.”

  Claire laughed at him. He frowned some more. She wasn’t going to leave. No matter what he said or did. No way.

  “Okay, you can stay down here while I go take a shower.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I know you too well already, Novak. I’m no moron. I go where you go. I’ll stand outside that shower stall and wait. Won’t even peek, I promise. Black wouldn’t like me in there with you when you’re naked since we’re still sort of on our honeymoon, so don’t ever mention it to him, okay? Why don’t you start off by showing me where this Emma woman is right now?”

  Hell, flypaper was right. Novak led her into the library where he had left his laptop. Sitting down in front of it, he pulled up Ryan’s GPS. The green dot was blinking steadily, thank God. Emma Adamson hadn’t found Ryan’s phone. Not yet.

  “Where is that?” She squinted at the screen. “Is that the Bahamas?”

  “He’s got the phone on a small and relatively unknown island just west of North Cat Cay. Called Buckman’s Island after the family who owns it. I’ve tied up there a couple of times. Two or three privately owned vacation houses at the most. Located on opposite sides of the island, so there’s plenty of privacy. Emma’s probably leasing one of them. She thinks they’re safe from me out there. She’s not. I’ve been there, and I know those waters.”

  “How’re you getting there? Your boat?”

  “That would take too long. Fastest way? Get a flight to Miami and take a boat outta there. I have a friend down there who’ll lend me his fishing outboard. Emma’s already dug in. Been there three days now. It’s gonna be their home base. That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

  “All right. If you’re not gonna clean yourself up, let’s get out of here and find them.”

  For the first time since Mariah had died and Ryan had been abducted by his psycho mother, Novak smiled. Claire did that to people. “Now you’re talking.”

  “Black’s pilot can fly us to Miami. He can wait for us on the jet at Miami International and bring us back here, hopefully with Ryan in tow.”

  Novak went to collect his gear. It had begun.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Almost three hours later, Novak and Claire Morgan were pushing their way through the throngs of people crowding the concourse of the Miami International Airport. They grabbed a cab and headed for Miami Beach Marina, where an old navy buddy of Novak’s docked his two-year-old Ocean 54 Super Sport fishing boat. Novak had called Pablo from the plane and gotten permission to use it as long as he wanted. Pablo assured Novak that he would call ahead and the boat would be gassed up and
ready by the time they reached the marina. Pablo’s word held true, and they took off to sea about twenty minutes after they reached the marina.

  North Cat Cay was about fifty miles east of Miami and ten miles south of Bimini. The island they were looking for was due west off Cat Cay’s north shore. Novak had sailed through the Bimini Islands plenty of times in his own boat, the one he’d had before the Sweet Sarah. Not as big, not as fast, not as sleek, but it had been a good tight craft.

  Novak knew these waters and how to navigate them. And the boat they were on was good enough to get them where they needed to go. Fast. And he was in a hurry. He sat up high at the captain’s helm and Claire sat beside him. The sea wind was whipping her blond hair all over the place. She held it back with one hand and gripped the armrest with the other as Novak raced them across the waves, the prow slamming down in great leaps and bounds, full throttle ahead. But he wanted to get there as soon as he could. He wanted Emma dead as soon as he laid eyes on her. He had hungered for that moment. Had dreamed about it every night since Mariah had died at the front door of his home.

  Once they got fairly close to Ryan’s blinking GPS signal, Novak killed the motors and they drifted on the waves for a time, a good way offshore, while they pinpointed the exact location where Ryan had the phone. Novak just hoped to God it hadn’t been tossed into a trashcan after Emma had discovered and discarded it. If that turned out to be true, Emma and Ryan and the men who had probably shot Mariah to death would be long gone. That kind of thing had happened last summer, when they were desperately searching for Nick Black. It could happen again if someone had found the phone. They both jumped when Claire’s phone started playing a song. Novak recognized it at once. “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers.

  “That’s Black. Hold on and don’t say anything.”

  “He’s gonna be upset that you’re out here with me. It’s still your honeymoon, you know. Technically.”

  “Shut up, Novak.” She picked up and said, “Hey, Black. What’s up?”

  Black spoke to her for a few moments, and then she said, “Nothing much. I decided to go out and see Novak at Bonne Terre. You know, to give my condolences about his friend. Actually, she was his sister-in-law.”

  Black spoke some more. For quite a while.

  “No, I’m not in danger.” She frowned when Novak grimaced and nodded his head. “Quit your worrying, Black. How’s your patient doing? You’re working your shrink magic, I take it?”

  Novak looked down at the dot on the screen that located Ryan’s GPS and watched it blink while she finished up her conversation. When she hung up, he said, “Little early after the wedding to start lying to your husband, isn’t it?”

  “I didn’t lie. I don’t ever lie to him. I don’t ever lie to anybody. And I’m not in danger. Not yet, anyhow. Thinking something like that would just upset him, and then he’d show up here. No need for that. Right? Because we’re not going to do anything really stupid, now, are we, Novak? Like gun down everybody you see?”

  “I can’t promise you that.”

  “Didn’t think so. But I’m glad you don’t look like God’s Wrath anymore.”

  “Maybe I should look like that. Because these guys are deadly and so is Emma. They all will try to kill me. They all will try to kill you. That’s why you’re staying on this boat while I take them down. Any way I have to.”

  “Don’t think so. You need somebody along to make you see reason. Because you are not seeing it right now. I’m gonna need a partner after this, not some big, dumb guy rotting in a Bahamian prison cell.”

  At that point, Novak decided it was best to ignore her. They’d talked about it enough. Now it was time to act. He turned the ignition key and liked the deep rumble and throb of the powerful motors as they headed north along the coast of the small island, staying pretty far out, not wanting to raise any red flags. Once he was practically on top of the blinking green dot, he turned off the boat and they swayed and rocked on incoming waves. He’d brought along a pair of high-powered binoculars inside the duffel he’d packed. He scanned the faraway beachfront, searching for any sign of men patrolling the sand. It didn’t take him long to spot them. He counted six men. Up above the narrow beach and long dock stood a big pink stucco house.

  “I got them.”

  “How many?” Claire shielded her eyes and tried to see what was going on ashore. No way could she see anything, so he handed her the binoculars.

  “One on each side of the big house, one at the top of the beach steps, one at the bottom. I recognize most of those guys. Two more on the beach, spread out down the sand on either side of the boat dock. New Bahamian recruits, probably. See them? I’ll go in after dark and take them all out.”

  “The Bahamians didn’t have anything to do with that attack, Novak. They’re just trying to make a buck guarding a woman. They probably don’t know what kind of devil she is.”

  “I won’t kill them if I don’t have to.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘we’?”

  Novak glared down at her. He wasn’t in the mood to mince words. “I don’t want to have to hog-tie you and leave you in the boat. I really don’t, but I will.”

  He meant that, and Claire knew him well enough to know he meant it. She didn’t argue this time.

  “I’m gonna go get the kid out first, and then I’m gonna bring him out to the boat to you. After that, I’m going back in and take care of Emma and anybody else who stepped foot that night on Bonne Terre. We can lay anchor close to shore, but a good way down the beach behind those mangroves down there.” He pointed north. “See them?”

  Claire nodded.

  “I am going in alone both times. You need to keep Ryan safe for me. He’s just a little kid and he’s scared. That’s where you come in. That’s why I brought you along.”

  Claire stared up into his face for a long moment, looked back at the big house on shore, and then back at him. “Okay, I’ll take good care of that kid. You just be careful. And listen to this. I am coming in if I think you’ve run into trouble. One more thing, Novak, I’d like to see you try to hog-tie me. Just try it. See what happens to you.”

  “Good enough. We’ll wait for nightfall and then I’ll go in solo.”

  * * *

  Novak did get some sleep, crashed on the stern banquette with a pillow and his New Orleans Saints ball cap over his face. Four hours straight, rocked gently on the waves, just like he’d done dozens of times on night missions. Sleep when he could and where he could. Rest had to be there. He had learned to sleep anywhere, any time. He wanted to be fresh, his mind clear, his senses alert. He had looked forward to this for days.

  Once darkness fell, they could see the dim glow of lights just down the coast. Novak started the boat and brought her in slowly until he reached the slight inlet with the rank-smelling mangrove swamp. Claire did not particularly like being left behind, but she didn’t complain when he got his gear together and stepped down onto the stern platform and eased off into the water. She was armed and ready, too. She knew how to take care of herself. He wasn’t worried about her.

  Novak had placed his loaded .45 and AR rifle inside a waterproof bag, along with plenty of extra magazines, attached it to his belt, and then he left the boat and started the swim out into the sea. He kept down low when he got in sight of the house. The big house loomed up into the night, the only light in pitch-darkness. It was very remote, a perfect hideout. A long dock stretched out past the breakers, maybe for thirty yards or more. There was a big motor yacht tied up at the very end. Emma had access to plenty of money, all right. Her new art forging studio, out in the middle of nowhere again. He swam slowly until he was about thirty yards out from the yacht and then just floated there on his back for a while, well behind the breaking surf, casing out the routine of the beach patrols.

  When he peered through the darkness at the mangroves, he couldn’t see Claire or the outline of the boat. Way too dark down there. That was good. Only a crescent moon gave off a bit of di
m light, but most of it was hidden behind a thick bank of clouds. Everything was going well so far. They would not be expecting him, not this soon. Emma thought she was just too clever, too careful. She wouldn’t be expecting him yet. Wouldn’t be expecting a covert attack from the sea. Still, she would be expecting him eventually, and she had been smart enough to have armed men on the oceanfront. Or maybe she just felt safe, thinking he would never find them out in the middle of Bimini. Wrong. She just didn’t know him well enough. He was coming. He would come at her if it took him the rest of his life to get her. She was already dead.

  The night was quiet, the ocean calm, and when the time was right, he used a breaststroke to propel himself to the dock and then under the pilings near the yacht. The yacht was silent, no lights on, no voices, no activity. He pulled out his black Ka-Bar straightedge and gripped it tightly inside his right fist. He’d already decided that he wanted everybody who had stepped foot on Bonne Terre dead. Actually, he probably didn’t have a choice in the matter. They would have orders to stop him, to shoot him down on sight. Even the Bahamians. No doubt about it. They would try to kill him, and they would fail. Nobody was going to stop him, not when he was this close.

  One guard was standing at the end of the dock, close to shore. In the dim light thrown off the dock’s solar lamp, Novak recognized him at once. The guy who had guarded the front door at Wilson’s cliff house. One of Wilson’s Centurion Guards who had turned his loyalty to Emma. He swam up a few yards behind him, moving through the water with no ripple or sound. He got both arms up on the dock and lifted himself out. He hadn’t made a sound. He didn’t waste time. He hit the guy hard from behind, took him down on the dock and had his blade into his jugular vein before he knew what hit him. The guy gargled and gasped and after a few moments lay still. Novak dragged him to the edge of the dock, grabbed the back of his shirt and lowered the body down into the water. He let it go. One down.

  All was still. All was quiet. Nobody had seen him take out the guard. Nobody knew he was anywhere around. He hunkered down and removed his weapons from the bag, checked them over, stuck the extra mags in his utility belt, and then lay flat on his belly in shadows, Ka-Bar still in hand, while he waited for the guards on the beach to move back toward his position. They met at the bottom of the wooden steps and talked a couple of minutes, and then they both turned around and headed back down the beach in the direction from which they’d come. He’d get them later.