by Anita Meyer
But the pale light of dawn crept into the room and the persistent ringing echoed inside her head. Extending one bare arm, she grappled for the receiver, then dragged it into the bed. The warmth of Jeff’s body beckoned and she snuggled closer.
“’Lo?”
“Caroline?”
“Hmm?”
“Hey, Princess. Is that you?”
Sleep drained away as she struggled to sit up. “Brian?” Her voice choked on the word. “Oh, my God, Brian,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe it’s y—”
A loud click sounded on the other end of the line, and the phone went dead in her hands.
“Brian? Answer me!” she cried. “Brian!”
Chapter 13
Jeff’s arms came around her. “Honey, wake up. You’re dreaming.”
“No,” she said, waving the phone. “It’s not a dream. He called me.”
Jeff brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Who called you?”
“Brian.” She dropped the receiver and grabbed his arms. “He’s alive, Jeff. He’s alive! He called me Caroline and Princess and then we got disconnected…“
Jeff’s expletive was short and to the point as he bolted from the bed. “Get dressed,” he snapped. He pulled on a pair of briefs and jeans, zipping them one-handed as he grabbed the receiver and punched Mac’s beeper number.
She sat in the bed, heedless of the sheet that had slipped to her waist.
“Caroline, get dressed,” Jeff barked. “Now!” When she didn’t respond, didn’t even move, he tipped her head up to face him. Her eyes were distant, hollow, as though she had slipped into another world, another place. He squeezed her hands, stunned at their icy chill. He wanted to slap her, shake her—something to jolt her out of this lethargy. Instead, he forced her to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, honey, but Brian is dead.”
She shook her head in vigorous denial. “He’s alive, Jeff. He called me. He called me Princess.”
“Caroline, listen to me.” Jeff turned a drawer full of clothes upside down over the bed, then tossed the drawer on the floor. Grabbing a T-shirt from the pile, he pulled it on over her head. “It was a trick,” he said, forcing her arms through the short sleeves. “Davis found us. We’ve got to get out of here. Right now.” She shook her head, but offered no resistance as he helped her into underwear and slacks.
He didn’t have time to curse himself. The helpless look in her eyes was torment enough. A thousand regrets hovered at the edge of his consciousness. If he hadn’t given in. If they hadn’t made love. If he’d answered the phone the way he always had. It would be a long, long time before he forgave himself. If ever.
“I always wondered…” Caroline said. Her voice was barely audible. Jeff tossed her a pair of socks, but they bounced-off her arm and dropped on top of the rumpled sheets. “When they didn’t find his body, I wondered if maybe he survived. Now I know.”
Jeff laced his sneakers, then strapped on the shoulder holster. “Then why did he hang up on you?” His voice was cruel, but he didn’t care. He had to make her see the truth.
“He didn’t hang up,” she explained. “We were cut off. He’ll call back. You’ll see.”
As if on cue, the phone rang, shocking them both into silence. Caroline lunged for it, but Jeff was faster.
“Hello?”
“What happened?” Mac asked.
“Let me talk to him,” she said.
Jeff shook his head. “It’s Mac.” He turned back to the phone. “Someone called the room about three minutes ago. They know who she is.”
Mac swore. “I’ll try to find out where the call came from. At least whether it was island or international.”
Caroline tugged on Jeff’s arm. “Please, Jeff, he’s my brother.”
Jeff shook her off. “We don’t have time. I want her off this island now. Go directly to Plan B.”
She tried to wrest the phone from Jeff’s hand. “Brian?” she shouted. “Brian, I’m here!”
“What the hell’s going on?”
Jeff gave up the struggle and let her have the phone.
“Brian, where are you? Are you hurt?”
The silence was palpable. “Uh, Caroline, this is Mac. Are you okay?”
“Oh.” She handed the phone to Jeff with an odd half smile that sent a chill racing down his spine.
“Look, bro,” Mac said. “She doesn’t sound too good. Maybe I should come to the bungalow.”
Wedging the phone between his shoulder and ear, Jeff pushed Caroline onto the bed and knelt on the floor, stuffing her feet into socks and sneakers. “No, I can handle it. Just meet me.”
“If you’re not there in fifteen minutes,” Mac said, “I’ll come looking.”
“Right.” Jeff hung up the phone, checked his gun, then slipped a jacket over the holster. When he turned to Caroline, he found her sitting on the floor holding the puppy. She looked up, and the feeling of dread settled around him once again. The vacant look in her eyes was more pronounced, the mind behind them more withdrawn. He squatted down on the floor in front of her. “Honey, think about this. Maybe Brian did survive the shooting. Maybe he is still alive. But he doesn’t have the means to track us down. Davis does. I think Davis used Brian’s voice to verify you were Caroline. He knew it would freak you out. You can’t let Davis win. You’ve got to fight him.”
Her brow furrowed and in her eyes Jeff saw the ongoing struggle between what she knew and what she desperately wanted to believe.
“But what if-”
Her voice cracked. She was perilously close to tears. A good sign. Better to have her emotions out in the open, instead of buried deep inside some catatonic state. “I swear to you, Bright Eyes,” Jeff said, “when the trial is over, I’ll do everything in my power to find out what happened to Brian. I’ll get Arthur to help, and Mac, too. It may take some time, but we won’t give up. One way or another, we’ll try to get some closure on this. Okay?”
Caroline looked at him through eyes clouded with unshed tears. He cared. He really, truly cared. She had been alone and on the run for so long, she had nearly forgotten what it felt like to have someone care for her as much as Jeff did. With tears spilling down her cheeks, she nodded.
“Good. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
She tossed him her wallet and passport, which he stuffed into a small knapsack. Then she hooked the Walkman onto her belt, draped the headphones around her neck, slipped into a nylon warm-up jacket, and picked up the puppy.
“We can’t take him,” Jeff said.
“I’m not leaving without him,” Caroline countered. “Alex trusted me to find him a good home, and I will. So we can either stand here and argue, or we can start running.”
No doubt about it, she was back to her old self. With a scowl, Jeff opened the door to the bungalow and searched the horizon. “Let’s go,” he said, motioning with his arm. He grabbed her hand and they set off at a dead run. They kept to the bushes and trees, avoiding the open areas like the beach and the golf course. After a while, he took the puppy from her arms and they ran farther inland, past the restaurants and shops, to the three-hundred-year-old stone tower that had once been a sugar factory. Rolling hills and grassy valleys spread out before them and in the distance a brown ribbon of road cut through the greenery.
“Over here,” called Mac.
Jeff grabbed Caroline’s hand and pulled her down the gentle slope and through a stand of trees. On the other side sat a bright red Jeep.
“Great car, lousy color,” Jeff muttered.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Mac replied, pulling the keys from his pocket. “Let’s move it.”
Caroline scrambled into the back as Mac slid behind the wheel and slipped the car into gear. The Jeep was moving as Jeff handed her the puppy and climbed in after her.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We’re only a couple of miles from Christiansted,” Jeff explained. “But from Christiansted it’s another twenty minutes to the airport or forty-five mi
nutes to the docks at Frederiksted.”
“So which way are we going?”
The words were barely out of her mouth when a single rifle shot exploded into a rear tire. Mac swore and jerked the wheel, but the Jeep ran up over a small outcropping of rocks and flipped. The next thing Jeff knew, he was airborne.
His hip crashed into the solid earth. He rolled once and came up in a low crouch, gun drawn, already knowing where everyone was.
Everyone but the sniper.
Caroline had landed about ten feet away. Mac was farther down the hill. The Jeep rolled twice more, then rocked on its right side, the two left wheels spinning slowly in the air.
Instinct took over. Scrambling to Caroline’s side, Jeff covered her body with his as a second shot broke the eerie silence. It bit into the dirt just inches from their heads.
“Down here!” Mac yelled. “I’ll cover you.”
Jeff gauged the distance, then pushed Caroline down the hill toward the trees, as Mac returned the sniper’s fire. It was a futile gesture and they both knew it. A third shot whizzed by and she screamed.
Lunging and stumbling, they ran past the Jeep and into the relative safety of the trees. A moment later, Mac joined them.
“Everybody okay?” he asked.
Jeff looked at Caroline. She had a gash on the back of her hand, but other than that, she seemed fine. “You all right, Bright Eyes?”
“I think so.” She let out a long breath. “Now what do we do?”
Jeff looked from the Jeep to the surrounding countryside. “Either we take out the shooter, or we try to right the Jeep.”
Mac looked up the hill to where the Jeep listed on its side. “Forget the Jeep. I don’t like the way it’s smoking, and besides…aw, shoot,” he said and took off running.
“Now wha-?”
Dumbfounded, Jeff watched his brother race back up the hill. The forgotten puppy wobbled unsteadily, sniffing at the smoke. Mac scooped up the dog with one hand and was halfway back to the trees when the shot rang out.
“Roll, damn it!” Jeff shouted, firing uselessly into the distance.
Mac tucked the dog to his chest, and hit the dirt, rolling the rest of the way down the hill.
“You damn fool,” Jeff roared. “You trying to get yourself killed?”
Mac shook his head and grinned, gasping for breath. “Hey, you save the girl, I save the dog. All in a day’s work. But I’ll tell you this much—” he drew another long breath “—you can forget the Jeep. In addition to the smoke, the oil pan is cracked and it’s leaking like a sieve.”
“So we go after the sniper,” Caroline said. She struggled to her feet, massaging the spot on her shoulder where she had landed in the fall.
“Whoa,” Jeff said, grabbing her arm. “What’s this ‘we’ business? You’re not going anywhere.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Sit here while you two play Rambo? I don’t think so.”
“Well, you’re sure as hell not going after a sniper.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Mac said. “If you’re that worried about her following us, tie her to a tree and be done with it.”
“She’s an escape artist,” Jeff said, never taking his eyes off her. “She’d be free before we got to the clearing.”
Arms folded across her chest, Caroline smiled.
“Fine,” Mac said. “Then you stay with her and I’ll go after the shooter.”
“Forget it,” Jeff answered. “I’m not going to put your life on the line just because she can’t be trusted. You stay here. I’ll go.”
“No,” Caroline said, more forcefully than she intended. Mac and Jeff turned in unison to look at her. Reluctantly she slumped against a tree and slid down the trunk to the ground. She didn’t want them going after the sniper any more than she wanted the sniper coming after her. But she couldn’t stop them. All she could do was stack the odds in their favor. “I know the best way for you to get this guy and not get hurt is to work together.” She looked away, not wanting them to see the fear that was undoubtedly written all over her face. “I’ll stay here with the dog.”
Jeff studied her through narrowed eyes. “You give me your word you won’t try to follow us?”
She nodded. “I swear on my brothers’ graves. I won’t follow you.”
Jeff hesitated, needing to trust her, afraid not to.
“I’ll be fine,” Caroline said. “Just don’t take all day.”
Finally, Jeff nodded. “Let’s do it,” he said to Mac. “And let’s do it fast.”
Caroline watched them work their way along the line of trees until they were nothing more than specks of color. The puppy put his front paws on her chest and licked her chin, nuzzling her and snuggling close. She wrapped her arms around him, needing desperately to keep something safe.
She wanted to believe Brian was still alive, that it really was his voice she had heard less than an hour ago. But her head dealt with the facts even as her heart absorbed the pain. She had seen Brian’s face contort as the bullet ripped into him; seen the massive amount of blood soaked into the Persian rug. And she knew Jeff was right. There was very little chance Brian had survived.
A barrage of gunfire echoed in the distance and her heart stopped, then started again with a jolt. Tears stung her eyes, and she offered up a silent prayer that Jeff and Mac would return unharmed.
A little ways up the hill, the Jeep was smoking. The smoke grew steadily thicker, making it harder and harder to see. Then a blast caught her unexpected and unprepared, a rising fireball that blossomed into a roiling black cloud.
She shuddered violently and hugged the puppy as adrenaline poured through her body. The acrid smell of burning metal and rubber filled the air, reminding her of the explosion on her father’s boat. The explosion that had taken Alden’s life.
They were gone. Both of them. The two brothers she loved more than life itself. And she was supposed to avenge their deaths.
“I can’t,” she cried. “I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can, Princess,” Alden said. “You’re strong and you’re smart.”
“And we’ll be with you every step of the way,” Brian added.
For a moment, she just sat there. Listening. Crying. Remembering. Then she thought of two other brothers. Jeff and Mac. Brothers who risked their lives to save hers. They were out there right now, looking for the person or persons who wanted to make her another notch in Augie Davis’s belt.
There was nothing she could do to bring back Alden and Brian.
But she could prevent it from happening again.
Her mind made up, she stood and scanned the area. She had given Jeff her word that she wouldn’t follow him. And she wouldn’t. But neither would she stay and wait for him or Mac to be shot down by a bullet meant for her. She would go back to her original plan. Go underground until the trial. She would do everything in her power to avoid the clutches of Augie Davis. But if he did get her, she’d die knowing Jeff and Mac were safe.
Holding the puppy close to her chest, she started running in the direction of Christiansted.
A sniper’s rifle was lying in the dirt next to him, and a large red stain was spreading across the front of his shirt. Jeff knelt and put two fingers on the side of the man’s neck. He looked at Mac and shook his head. Using the back of his
hand to open the guy’s jacket, Jeff reached inside and carefully removed the wallet. He took a quick look, then stood and showed it to Mac. “That name mean anything to you?”
Mac shook his head. “No. But then I don’t keep a list of hit men on the top forty.”
“I doubt he had a partner,” Jeff said, holstering his gun, “or we would have known about it by now. Let’s get back to Caroline and then get out of here.” He handed the wallet to Mac, then started out across the hills. “Chances are someone heard the shots. And I don’t want to be here when the cops arrive.”
“Agreed.” Mac stuffed the dead man’s wallet in his back pocket and hurried to catch up with his brother
. “I’ll call Arthur, tell him what happened and send him this ID. He’ll have to send someone down here to clean up.”
“In the meantime,” Jeff said, “we’ve got to get Caroline off the island. The cover’s blown, and when Davis finds out his man is dead, he’ll send another. I want to be a few hundred miles from here when—”
Whatever else he was going to say was lost in the thundering noise that rocked the valley. For a split second, Jeff froze in his tracks as a paralyzing fear swept through his body. “The Jeep,” he breathed. Please, God, don’t let her be anywhere near that Jeep.
He set off at a dead run across the fields, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. As he mounted the next rise, a stitch caught in his side, but he kept up the grueling pace. In truth, he was less than half a mile from the Jeep, but it might as well have been fifty.
Finally, he spotted it. A black cloud of ash and smoke hovered over the smoldering remains. The adrenaline surging through his bloodstream drove him on. Never breaking stride, he hurtled downhill, past the burned-out carcass of the Jeep, to the thick grove of baobab trees where he had left Caroline.
She wasn’t sitting at the base of the tree or walking nearby. She wasn’t anywhere. He tried to call her name, but the word stuck in his windpipe as he gulped in air.
Mac bolted back up the hill, getting as close to the Jeep as he dared. He gave Jeff a thumbs-down sign, then hustled back to join in the search.
“Caroline!” Jeff scoured the stand of trees, moving in larger and larger circles as he combed the area. “Caroline!”
His brain reeled with the possibilities. For the second time in ten hours he’d made a mistake. And this one might well cost Caroline her life. Of the anger, guilt, and fear he felt, anger was the easiest to deal with. He grabbed a large branch that had fallen to the ground and swung it against a tree, feeling it crack halfway up his arms.
“Think, man,” Mac said. “That’s your strength, use it.”
Jeff rubbed his head with the tips of his fingers. “The dog,” he said. “Call him. He might come or bark.”
Obligingly, Mac pursed his lips and whistled several times. “Here, pup!” he called.
