by LENA DIAZ,
Amber followed Dex’s gaze. As Mitchell had said, Derek was tied to the post that supported the overhang of the maintenance building fifty yards away. His hands were above his head, roped to the post. And he was struggling to keep his chin above the waves the current made as it lapped against the building.
“Go ahead,” Mitchell said. “Go help your friend. Unless you want to save your own hide, like always. That’s what I’d expect you to do, of course—stay here and watch out for your own safety rather than brave that murky water. Because that’s what you do, put yourself before others.”
Dex took a step toward Mitchell.
Mitchell raised the gun toward his head. “Give me a reason, boss. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”
“Really? How long? Before or after you sabotaged my plane?”
Mitchell laughed, the same eerie laugh Dex had heard in the passageway outside Amber’s bedroom earlier tonight. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to his employees, to the people in his life, he’d have recognized that laugh. And he’d have known earlier who the killer was. Of course, Mitchell had already disappeared by then, so it wouldn’t have mattered. But what did matter right now was saving Amber and Derek and the others inside. He just wished he knew how he was going to manage all that.
“Mitchell, you’re not a bad person. I know something must have happened to make you snap. A jury would understand that, too. Stop this, before it goes too far.”
Mitchell sneered at him. “Too far? I’ve already killed Mallory. I’d say I’ve already gone too far. I didn’t mean to kill her, you know. She caught me sneaking into your room with a gun. It was you that I wanted to kill. I shot her without thinking about it.”
Dex edged closer to Mitchell. Amber looked toward the maintenance building. Derek’s cries were getting weaker. She didn’t know how much longer he could keep his chin above the water.
“You panicked then,” Dex said, his voice soothing as he spoke to his assistant. “People will understand that. Like you said, you didn’t mean to kill—”
“Stop it,” Mitchell shouted. He wrapped both hands around his pistol and shook it at Dex. “Just stop it. You and your smooth talking. Do you think I’m stupid?”
Dex held his hands up placatingly. “Of course not. I think you’re very smart. You’ve been practically running my company for years. You do a far better job than I ever could.”
“Damn straight, I do.” Mitchell lowered the gun ever so slightly. “And what do I get for it? I get to watch you, year after year, treat people like they’re nothing.”
“Mitchell—”
“Let me finish! You do, you know. You act all nice and polite on the surface, but do you really care about anyone? No. We’re all replaceable, interchangeable. Me. Ronnie. Mallory. I liked Mallory, you know, even though she didn’t like me back. Ronnie does, though. She loves me. Because after you threw her away, after you broke her, she came back to me again. You didn’t know that, did you? I was there to help her pick up the pieces, to make her realize she had worth. To let her know she mattered and shouldn’t have been thrown away like that. You don’t give a damn about anyone, Dex. I thought killing you with the plane crash would be quick and painless and would end it all without anyone else getting hurt. I was being merciful. But, of course, you had to survive—the golden boy. Well, now I’m teaching you a lesson before you die. Because for the first time ever, I’ve figured out what you really care about.”
“Mitchell, look, I’m—”
“Don’t you even want to know what it is?” he shouted.
“Of course, of course. What do I care about?”
Mitchell swore. “Even now, you don’t know. Because you’re shallow, empty. Move, get over there.”
“No.”
Amber stiffened behind Dex. She wanted to see Mitchell’s reaction, but Dex kept adjusting his position every time she tried to look around him. He was keeping himself firmly between the two of them.
“Dex?” Derek cried weakly across the darkness.
“Give me the gun, Mitchell,” Dex said. “No one else has to get hurt. Let me help Derek and then we’ll sit down and talk about what I’ve done to wrong you. I’ll make it right. I promise.”
A guttural, pained sound like that from a wounded animal came from Mitchell. Water swished. Amber looked back at the wall of windows in the kitchen. She could see his reflection now. He’d waded through the water and was standing directly in front of Dex, with his pistol jammed against Dex’s forehead.
“Don’t tell me what to do ever again,” Mitchell spit out. “Now, go save Derek like a good boy. And the one thing you care about, the one person you care about, will stay here. With me.” He suddenly reached around Dex for Amber.
Dex grabbed Mitchell’s arm and shoved the gun up toward the ceiling. “Run, Amber! Run!”
The two men struggled for the gun. It went off, firing into the porch ceiling. They fell backward, a tangle of arms, with Mitchell snarling and cursing at Dex as they both struggled for control of the pistol. They fell into the water and disappeared below the surface.
Amber took a deep breath and crouched down under the water, but when she opened her eyes she couldn’t see anything and the burn and sting of the dirty water had her squeezing her eyes shut again. She felt the water move violently around her and she hurriedly stood up above the surface again, wiping at her eyes as she tried to see what was happening.
Dex and Mitchell were standing up again, pressed against the back of the house, still fighting for the gun. Dex managed to free one arm and swung his fist toward Mitchell’s jaw. Mitchell jerked to the side before it could connect.
“Amber, get the hell out of here,” Dex yelled at her, meeting her gaze in the reflection in the windows.
She realized several things at once. There was nothing she could do to help Dex in his deadly struggle with Mitchell without getting in the way. She was distracting him by staying here. But there was one thing she could do to help. She could save Derek.
She moved toward the edge of the porch.
“Amber, no, it’s too dangerous!” Dex cried, confirming her fear that she was distracting him.
“Don’t worry about me,” she yelled back. “I’ve got this.” She jumped into the water.
* * *
DEX LET OUT a guttural roar and crashed his fist into the side of Mitchell’s face. Mitchell grunted in pain but didn’t let go of the pistol. Dex twisted violently, renewing his struggles in a frenzy, but it took all his strength to keep from getting swept away in the current and still keep Mitchell from lowering the gun and aiming it toward Amber.
Dear God, Amber. He couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the water. He had to help her.
“I’m sorry for whatever you think I did to you,” he yelled. “Killing Amber or anyone else isn’t going to make up for it, though.”
Mitchell snarled and kicked toward him, but the force of the water slowed his movements and Dex was able to turn his thigh to block him. Still, the blow knocked him back enough so that Mitchell was able to tug his non-gun hand loose from Dex’s hold and put both hands on the pistol. Slowly and surely he began to turn the pistol down toward Dex’s head.
Dex swore and shoved Mitchell harder against the house. The mad light in Mitchell’s eyes told him there was no reasoning with him. And, damn, the man was stronger than he looked. Dex grabbed the pistol with both hands and lifted his feet. He crashed back against the water’s surface, pulling Mitchell down with him under the water.
Chapter Seventeen
Amber struggled to untie the ropes that held Derek to the post. Her hands kept slipping in the brackish water. “Hold on, Derek. Just hold on.”
His mouth went under water and again Amber grabbed him and yanked him higher. He coughed out some brackish water and drew a shaky breath. His arms were shaking from the
effort of trying to keep his elbows bent to hold himself above the water, but it was a losing battle. He was exhausted.
“If I can just get this knot free.” She pulled and plucked at the knot. Derek didn’t respond and she didn’t expect him to. His eyes were closed. He was using every ounce of strength he had just trying not to drown. He must have been struggling out here for hours and there was nothing left. He seemed ready to pass out from exhaustion. And from the bruises already beginning to form near his temple, she suspected that Mitchell might have hit him. A head injury and exhaustion could be a lethal combination right now. She looked past him to the porch and froze. Where were Mitchell and Dex?
Derek went under again.
Amber grabbed his chin and pulled him up. “Come on, cough it out.”
Derek’s head lolled back toward the water.
“Derek, Derek, wake up. Cough out the water.” She let go of the post and cupped his face with both hands. The current tried to drag her away from the building. She was forced to grab the post again and wrapped her legs around it before reaching for Derek, who’d dropped his face back beneath the water.
“Come on,” she yelled. She slapped his cheeks, again and again.
He flinched and opened his eyes. Then he started violently coughing. Water and vomit rolled out of his mouth.
Amber tilted his head so he wouldn’t choke. “There you go, that’s it. We’ll get you out of here. You just have to hang on a little longer.”
Water splashed beside her. She gasped and whirled around. A dark shadow rose from below the surface. Gator! No! She grabbed Derek and kicked out with her feet, hitting the reptile under the water.
It broke the surface, coughing and spitting water. Amber’s jaw dropped open. This was no gator.
“Dex? Dex! How did you get here? Are you okay?”
He grabbed the post beside her and rubbed his chest. “You have a mean kick. I’m not sure you needed my help, after all.” Impossibly, he grinned. And winked.
She sputtered. “I can’t believe you’re smiling at a time like this.”
His smile faded. “Me, either.” He looked back to the house. “I don’t know where Mitchell went. I knocked the gun loose but he disappeared beneath the water. He could be anywhere.” He looked at Derek and the ropes holding him to the post. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.”
“Dex, don’t leave me, don’t...”
He disappeared beneath the surface again. Where had he gone? What was he doing? She focused on keeping Derek’s chin above the water, cradling his head against her chest as she kept an eye on their surroundings. She didn’t know if she was more worried about gators or Mitchell. Both were deadly.
Metal creaked behind her somewhere. She jerked around. “Dex?” Nothing.
Derek coughed up more brackish water.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, keeping his chin up. “It’s okay. Dex wouldn’t really leave us. He’ll come back.”
“Damn straight.”
She whirled around. “Dex!”
He smiled again and pulled a machete up from beneath the water. “I remembered this from before, from inside the building.” He pulled himself to the backside of the post and held the machete with both hands as he hacked down against the wood. The ropes split and fell away.
Derek slipped from Amber’s hands into the water. “No, no!”
Dex dove under and came up seconds later with his friend, holding his head up. “Come on, Amber. Let’s get him back to the house and get out of this swamp.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
They swam on both sides of Derek, wrestling against the current and to keep him from going under. He’d completely lost consciousness now and was deadweight, threatening to drag them away or under. Something splashed not far from them.
“Keep swimming,” Dex yelled. “Hurry.”
His urgency had her putting everything she had into her strokes as she kicked her legs behind her. They reached the porch and she grabbed the post to pull herself up. Dex gave her and Derek a mighty shove forward, which propelled them all the way to the kitchen doorway. She wrestled Derek inside and propped his arms up on a countertop to keep his head above the water.
She turned back to see where Dex was and saw him raise the machete above his head at the edge of the porch and bring it slashing down. An enormous gator snapped its jaws inches from his face, then disappeared beneath the water.
“Dex!” Amber screamed.
He dropped the machete and dove toward the doorway. He pulled himself inside and shoved the door closed. A loud thump shook the door but it held. The gator must have given up because it didn’t try again. Dex turned around, his face pale and his eyes wide. “Tell me that did not just happen.”
Amber’s hands shook as Dex rose to stand in the hip-deep water and helped her hold on to Derek.
“I can’t believe you just fought an alligator,” she said, her voice hoarse. “And that was a big gator.”
He grinned. “Something to brag about later.” His smile faded and he glanced around. “If we survive this, that is. I’m not going to assume that Mitchell drowned. We need to get out of here. We’re too exposed.” He pressed his hand against Derek’s chest, then felt the side of his neck. “He’s breathing, and his pulse is good. Let’s get him upstairs with the others.”
“How will we—”
In answer, he lifted Derek and draped him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. “Let’s go. Hurry.”
They waded through the kitchen to the great room. Some of the furniture was floating and they had to maneuver around it.
A guttural roar and a splash sounded behind them. They whirled around. Mitchell pointed his gun toward Dex. He dove out of the way. Shots boomed. The front windows exploded in a hail of glass.
Amber grabbed Derek, who was floating facedown, and turned him faceup in the water. Mitchell whirled around, not seeming to notice her. He was too busy looking for Dex. She took advantage of his preoccupation and floated Derek to one of the chairs that was bobbing in the water. She wrestled Derek’s arms and upper body into the chair and made sure his face was well above the waterline before she let go.
Mitchell turned toward her, as if just realizing she might be a threat. She dove down below the water. A concussion of movement burst just past her head in the water as a bullet shot at her. She couldn’t see, but she swam toward where she remembered the nearest wall to be. When she reached the wall, she used her arms and legs to kick the water to stay below the surface until her lungs were burning. Unable to stay there any longer, she stood up and drew a deep breath as she looked around for Dex or Mitchell.
Mitchell stood ten feet away, his back to her. But he must have heard her as she’d broken the surface. He whirled toward her, gun in hand. Water splashed on his other side as Dex rose above the water with something in his hand. The poker from the fireplace! He brought it crashing down as Mitchell brought his gun around. The gun went off as the poker slammed into the side of Mitchell’s head. He cried out and fell back into the water. He raised the gun again, but Dex brought the poker down and knocked it out of his hands. Mitchell sank below the surface.
Dex held the poker at the ready, watching the water all around him. When Mitchell didn’t reappear, Dex swore and dropped the poker. He disappeared beneath the water.
Amber pushed off the wall to help him. She’d just reached where she’d last seen Dex when he stood up, pulling Mitchell with him. Mitchell’s head lolled against his chest, blood running from the nasty gash in his scalp where the poker had hit him. His eyes were closed.
“Is he...is he dead?”
Dex pressed his hand against Mitchell’s neck. “No.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “But I hit him hard, too damn hard.”
Amber was shocked at the anguish in D
ex’s voice. “Dex, you did what you had to do. You saved us.”
He nodded, but she didn’t think he was necessarily agreeing with her. “Derek?”
She pointed to the chair. “He’s okay.”
He nodded again and started pulling Mitchell toward another chair floating beside that one. He’d just propped Mitchell up when bright lights shone through the hole where the front windows had been shattered.
“Get behind me,” Dex ordered. He reached for her just as the front door burst open. Then he grinned and let out a relieved laugh as a man whom Amber had never seen before led a rescue crew of a half dozen Collier County firemen into the house.
“If you’re here to save us,” Dex said, “you’re a little late.”
The man in front of the others splashed toward them. His brow was lined with worry as he took in the scene, looking from Derek to Mitchell, then to Amber and Dex.
“I thought we were rescuing you from what I’m told is the worst flood this place has seen in decades. But you managed to up the ante to a whole new level. What the hell happened?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll explain it all, but first we need medical help for these two.”
As the firemen tended Mitchell and Derek, Dex led Amber through the water to the stairs with the man he’d just spoken to following behind.
“There are more people upstairs.” Dex helped Amber out of the water and onto the first dry step.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Amber nodded to the man beside Dex.
“Oh, sorry. Amber Callahan, this is—or was, until he quit—the other half of Lassiter and Young Private Investigations. Meet Jake Young.”
* * *
AMBER PAUSED IN the doorway to Derek’s room in Naples Community Hospital, with two paper coffee cups in her hand. Derek was asleep, resting comfortably in spite of the IV he’d vehemently opposed when he’d first gotten there. Apparently he was afraid of needles, but Amy had shamed him into “taking it like a man,” and had added the extra insult that Garreth was being much less of a baby in his room down the hall, even though Garreth’s injuries had been more severe.
