He grabbed her wrists and held them to her side. “I can’t do that. If there’s anything else, anything, I’ll do it or say it. Just tell me what it is.”
He wouldn’t be swayed. She hadn’t thought he would, but a small part of her had continued to hope. If only she could make him see what the price would be. Yet he knew the price. He was willing to pay it. He would do what he felt he had to do, then face the consequences. He would risk everything, even her.
She tried to think of some last words to convince him. Instead she blurted out, “Tell me you love me.”
He stared at her.
She flushed. “I know you don’t. You’re still in love with Jeanne, and you can’t forget who I was married to. I know it’s not true, but please, say the words. Just once.”
She needed to hear them. They would keep her strong. He stared at her for so long, she started to tug to free her wrists. Then he let her go. Before she could turn away, he hauled her up against him and kissed her.
His mouth was hot and hungry. His lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue invaded, demanding her surrender. They clung to each other as if they would never see each other again.
They never would.
At last he released her. She had to fight back the tears. “I love you,” he said, then took her hand in his and kissed her palm.
Before she could answer, Cort came out from the salon. “Bobby is having some juice and a graham cracker,” he said. “We’re ready to go. You sure you don’t want to come with us, boss?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to take care of business.”
Andie didn’t care about being strong. She grabbed his arm. “Don’t do this. Don’t throw everything away.”
He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself, Andie. Don’t hate me forever.”
“I don’t hate you at all. I love you.”
He stepped away from her, then vaulted over the side of the boat onto the deck. Her chest felt as if someone were ripping out her heart.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“You have to be strong for your son,” Cort said.
She looked up at him and saw compassion in his oddly flecked brown eyes. “I know. It’s hard.”
He moved to the steering wheel on the left side of the deck. He turned a key, then pushed a red button. Instantly, powerful engines started beneath the deck. She felt the rumble and bent her knees to stay balanced.
Jeff loosened the ropes holding the boat to the dock and tossed the lines back to them. The boat began to drift out to sea.
She stood at the side and stared at him. “Damn you, Jeff. I don’t even know your last name.”
He grinned. “Markum. Jeff Markum.” The engines made it hard to hear. He stood there, then called out, “I wasn’t lying, Andie. I do love you.”
Then Cort increased the power and they were moving away. Andie raced to the stern and screamed Jeff’s name. But the wind caught the sound and carried it back toward her. Jeff stayed on the end of the dock, growing smaller and smaller. His figure blurred. She brushed away her tears. She stood there until she couldn’t see him anymore.
“He’ll be all right,” Cort said. “He always seems to land on his feet.”
She nodded but didn’t answer. No point in explaining it wouldn’t matter if he landed on his feet or not. Once he crossed the line, the Jeff she knew would be gone.
“There’s a couple of things you should know about the boat,” he said. “If you’re up to it, I want you to practice handling her. Also, there’s a special compartment below. If Kray’s men catch up with us, we can hide Bobby. They’ll never find him. As soon as we’re away from the pleasure boat traffic I’ll show it to you. All right?”
“Fine.”
She turned back to look at the island. She could see the pale beaches and lush foliage, but the dock had disappeared. Jeff was gone. Now she only had herself and her son. Somehow she would have to stay strong enough to keep them safe.
Jeff waited until the boat rounded a curve and was lost from view, then he hurried up the dock to his Jeep. Once inside, he started the engine, then paused. She was really gone. He didn’t have to worry about her or the kid. He was free to get on with his own business.
He should have felt relieved. Instead, he found he already missed her presence and Bobby’s chatter. The Jeep felt empty and large without them.
He reached in the glove box for his baseball cap. When he pulled it out, a small, plastic action figure fell on the floor. He picked it up and held it. Just a cheap toy, he told himself. Bobby wouldn’t even miss it. Jeff tucked it into his shorts pocket and shifted into gear.
As he drove down the road toward Kray’s villa, he wondered how long it would take to get over her. He had no way to reconcile his feelings for Andie with his mourning for Jeanne. Maybe Andie was right. Maybe what he was mourning wasn’t his wife, it was simply an excuse to wallow in guilt. Maybe he used the pain to keep him going because it was easier than actually facing life and his responsibilities. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, but he could try to do better in the future. Not that he was going to have much of a future when he was done with Kray.
He approached the villa the long way, going by the expensive hotel on the edge of Kray’s property. He parked in the guest lot, grabbed his binoculars, then strolled through the grounds. There were plenty of vacationers around. On the west end, a walking path meandered through the thick growth. He took it, then cut through toward the ocean. He came out on the beach.
A wall of rocks and boulders hid Kray’s villa from the hotel guests. Jeff wasn’t ready to take action. He simply wanted to get a look at things and start making a plan.
He glanced around the beach. The small stretch of sand was empty. He could hear vacationers beyond the sandbar, but this little cove was deserted. He walked toward the rocks and started up.
The climb was easy. Well spaced boulders provided foot-and handholds. When he reached the top, he paused and looked around. No one was stationed at the top of the bluff. Slowly he pulled himself over and lay flat on the ground. He didn’t want to get caught. Depending on who saw him, he might be able to bluff his way out of any trouble, but he didn’t want to take the risk. Not until Andie was safely away.
The house was about a hundred feet away down a grassy slope. Jeff picked up his binoculars and scanned the property. There wasn’t anyone around. No bodyguards, no staff, nothing. He carefully checked out all the windows but couldn’t see any sign of life.
He rose to his knees, then to his feet. Quickly he hurried toward the shield of growth to the right of the grassy slope. Using it for cover, he made his way down to the house. He was on the opposite side from where Andie had entered through the French doors. Back here there were only windows. She’d probably come out this way with Bobby.
He circled around the house, toward the French doors. The silence was unnerving. He checked again for signs of anyone, but everything was still.
He crouched in the low brush. What was Kray up to? Before he could come up with an answer to the question, he heard Andie’s voice telling him even if he made it out alive she didn’t want to see him. He believed that she loved him. He also believed she meant what she said. If he killed Kray she wouldn’t see him again.
He understood her feelings. He wasn’t sure how he was going to live with himself. But he didn’t have a choice. Kray had to be stopped and no one else was lining up to get the job done. Kray’s death would solve all their problems.
But it wouldn’t bring Jeanne and J.J. back to life.
He closed his eyes against the anguish. In that moment, with the hot, humid air stealing the breath from his lungs, with his fingers gripping the binoculars so tightly, his knuckles were white, with his heart pounding and his chest tight with pain, he knew the truth. His wife and child were gone forever.
All the mourning, the guilt and blame he could muster wouldn’t bring them back. Kray’s death wouldn’t bring them back. He could scream at
God about the unfairness, he could punish himself forever, but they were gone.
He wasn’t sure how long he crouched there. Finally his legs started to cramp. He rose and walked toward the villa.
The French doors stood open. He hesitated before entering. Was it a trap? He listened to the silence, waiting for his instincts to warn him of the danger. He felt nothing. He reached behind him and pulled out his pistol. He lifted the binocular strap over his head and let them hang against his belly. Then he stepped into the villa.
The main room was empty. Jeff listened for the sound of conversations, or footsteps on the tiled floor. There was only silence from inside and the faint crash of the waves from the shore. He went from room to room, half expecting to find a bleeding corpse, but there were only made beds and tidy piles of clean laundry.
He returned to the great room. Half-filled glasses and dishes sat on a table by the bay window, as if the people there had been unexpectedly called away from their meal. He moved closer and saw several documents sitting out. He picked up the first one and scanned the sheet. It contained a schedule for laundering money at one of the local banks. Jeff set it down and picked up another piece of paper. Bribe information. There was enough here to lock Kray away for the rest of his life.
He grinned and started to grab the documents. Before he could pick them up, he reminded himself he was gathering evidence illegally. Not only couldn’t it be used in court, but it went against everything he believed in. If he took the papers—
The battle of his conscience stopped abruptly. He could plan to kill Kray, but he would quibble about picking up a few papers left lying around? Was he crazy?
If you kill Kray, Kray wins this round. Andie’s words. He picked up one of the papers again and stared at it. He could easily take the lot and get them into the right hands without anyone questioning where they came from. It could simply be an anonymous tip.
But it was wrong. Just like killing Kray was wrong. Here was the line—was he willing to cross it for good? Was he willing to go to the other side, to be just like Kray? Or would he rather fight the decent way, following the laws and keeping his honor in one piece?
He put the paper down and walked out the front of the villa. He had a radio in the Jeep. He would call Cort and have him bring the boat back to collect him. There was nothing he needed at the house. Together the two men could work on a plan to capture Kray legally. He turned to start back along the beach when he heard a noise. A large pleasure craft came around in front of the house. It was flying across the water.
Jeff started to turn away, but there was something familiar about the boat. He grabbed his binoculars and looked out at the vessel. He focused, then swore under his breath.
Kray and three of his men sat in the back of the boat. They were all heavily armed. He lowered the binoculars. Somehow they had found out about Cort’s boat and they were after them.
Andie glanced through the big glass windows toward the salon. Bobby sat in the middle of the floor watching a cartoon video. He hadn’t seen TV in so long, he was beaming with pleasure. She was glad he was happy. After all he’d been through, he deserved a treat.
Andie turned back toward the open ocean surrounding them. She sat in the same seat, at the rear of the boat. The warm tropical breeze tugged at her neat braid. She’d gone below to inspect the hiding place for Bobby and to grab a snack. Now she sipped on her soda and tried not to think.
Cort sat in a high captain’s chair and handled the boat. In a couple of hours she would spell him; then she would rest while he took the first night watch. Together, they would make their way to Florida and safety.
It would be easier if she could cry again, she thought. But ever since they’d lost sight of St. Lucia, she hadn’t been able to do anything but breathe through the pain. She knew in time it would dull to a manageable ache. In a few weeks, she would go hours at a time without thinking about him.
Before they landed in Florida, she was going to make Cort promise to keep her informed. She wanted to know if Jeff made it out alive. She wanted to know what happened. She wanted to know when to start her mourning.
A soft beeping caught her attention. She turned and saw Cort picking up a headset. He spoke briefly, then set it down and turned to her.
“That was Jeff,” he said, his expression grim. “Kray’s after us.”
Jeff twisted the wires together, then hit the starter. The speedboat’s engine leapt to life. He leaned over and untied the lines holding the boat to the temporary mooring facility outside the hotel, then pushed off the dock. The needle showing the fuel level registered full. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he had enough diesel to find them.
He turned the small steering wheel toward the open ocean, then pushed the throttle a quarter of the way forward. The boat started moving through the water. When he was clear of the dock and small sailboats, he pushed the throttle all the way and the slim speedboat soared over the waves.
From behind him he could hear the faint calls of the disgruntled owner of the boat. No doubt the harbor patrol would be after him. Good thing. By the time the police arrived at the scene, the battle with Kray would be in full swing. He and Cort would be able to use the assistance. Thank God this small craft could outrun Kray’s bigger, more expensive boat.
Jeff settled in the seat and checked the compass. Cort had given him their position. It wouldn’t take him long to catch them. He only hoped he made it before Kray did.
That line of thinking made him worry about Andie, so he distracted himself by figuring out several different plans of attack. If Kray beat him to Cort’s boat—which was likely, he had a big head start—then he, Jeff, would have to come in quietly and surprise his enemy. No matter what, he couldn’t let Kray get hold of Andie and Bobby. They were depending on him.
He continued to watch the horizon. Occasionally he brought up his binoculars and scanned the sea, searching for the large boat. Nothing. His stolen craft glided swiftly over the waves. How ironic. He’d finally made the decision not to break the law by killing Kray and his first act after that had been to steal a boat.
He checked the compass again. He should be getting close now. He looked through the binoculars and saw two small dots on the horizon. Then over the loud rumble of the speedboat’s engine, he heard the echo of gunfire. He swore under his breath. Cort and Andie were alone on their boat, but Kray had three men with him.
He angled toward the two spots on the horizon and prayed he wasn’t too late. Gradually he was able to make out individual features of the boats, then the people standing on deck.
As he got closer, he powered back and started to circle around Kray’s boat. The man still on board saw him and aimed a lethal-looking rifle in his direction. Jeff ducked. The bullet hit the side of the small speedy craft. He reached up and nudged the throttle forward. He aimed the boat toward Kray’s yacht, then locked the steering mechanism in place. The man took aim again. As gunfire sprayed the approaching speedboat, Jeff slipped off the other side and silently began swimming toward Cort’s vessel.
Andie shook with terror. Her ex-husband stared at her with the cold, deadly eyes of a killer. The gun in his hand pointed directly at her chest.
“You’ll tell me what I want to know,” Kray said.
“I told you, I don’t have Bobby with me.”
“Liar.”
She saw him raise his free hand. Even as she told herself to duck, she was too slow. His palm slapped the side of her face. Pain exploded in her cheekbone. She staggered back a couple of steps before regaining her balance.
“You bastard,” Cort growled. “What kind of man gets his thrills from hitting a woman?”
Kray didn’t spare his prisoner a glance. “I didn’t do it to amuse myself, but to get her attention. Andrea was always very stubborn.”
She glanced at Cort. He struggled, but the two men holding him didn’t loosen their grip on his arms. His face looked worse than hers would. Kray’s men hadn’t caught him easily. “I’m oka
y,” she said.
Kray moved closer to her. She studied him. No gray marred his dark hair. Even after six years, he still looked like a handsome businessman, although now she could see the lines of cruelty around his mouth. His eyes darkened with temper.
“You will tell me. The question is how much do you want to suffer first?”
“I sent Bobby home four days ago.”
“No!” Kray roared. “Two days ago my men saw you helping Jeff Markum escape. Where is the American and where is my son?”
“Your men only saw me. They didn’t see Bobby. Ask them. There was no child with me. I’d already sent him home.”
She darted a quick glance around, trying to find a way out. If only his men hadn’t searched her when they’d first come on board and taken her pistol. She and Cort had fought, but they’d been outnumbered and outgunned. At least they’d had enough warning to put Bobby into the hiding place. Kray’s men would never find the child. She had to hang on to that thought.
“Kray, look,” the man still on Kray’s boat called.
A small, fast speedboat was circling toward them. “It’s the American,” Kray said. “Kill him.”
Instantly gunfire erupted. Andie spun toward the sound. She had to cover her mouth to keep from screaming. It couldn’t be Jeff, and yet, no one else knew to rescue them. As she watched, more gunfire hit the smaller craft. It turned toward them, apparently undamaged. She waited, wanting to see Jeff stand up to jump off the side.
“He’s going to ram us,” the man screamed, and started toward Cort’s boat.
Everyone’s attention focused on the small boat heading directly for Kray’s vessel.
Andie saw Kray look away from her. She ducked down and started to go behind him. Cort broke free of the two men holding him. They tried to grab him again. He kicked one in the ribs and punched the other in the face. Kray spun toward her, his pistol pointed at her head. She rolled to get away. A bullet flew past her into the deck of the boat.
The Only Way Out Page 23
