“Maybe,” he allowed. For several minutes, they listened to the sounds of the marsh together. “I’m not that good,” Mark muttered, breaking the silence.
She knew he wasn’t talking about kissing. “What do you mean?”
“I’m good at hiding a trail, but not the best. And with two of us together, they should be on us by now.”
“Are you complaining that we haven’t been found?”
“I guess I am.” His gaze drifted over the marsh as a flock of egrets rose in a cloud of white and squawking calls. “Anyone in our situation would consider the marsh a viable escape route.”
“Whatever you decide, I’m in,” she said.
He turned to her and his thoughtful gaze sharpened, lingering on her lips. “That’s great news.”
She could see he wasn’t referring to their escape. Her heart did a happy twirl in her chest. “Um. Yesterday, painting for Eaton, I changed up the trees from those in the picture to those I’d seen out here. If he did have a live feed going to your dad, maybe someone on the investigation caught those clues.”
“That was really smart.” He gave her a quick squeeze. “And brave.”
She felt the heat rising into her cheeks at his praise. Why did he compliment her for the smallest things? Throughout high school and college, she’d been scolded by her peers for watching the world pass her by instead of diving in and participating. It wasn’t entirely true, though she did like to watch and ponder. “Well, then I definitely hope that painting was a live performance.”
“Me too, though it had to be hard on you.” His smile warmed her straight through. “We can count on Hank.” He caught her hand. “They’re out there looking for us, Lottie. And you helped guide them in.”
“We’ve done all we can, haven’t we?”
“To help the search teams, yes,” he answered. “Thanks to you. Now, let’s leave a clue here for Zettel and keep moving.”
He reached for the hem of his pants and tore off a generous piece of the fabric. It was already muddy from the creek. “Be right back.” He stayed low as he left the trees and waded into the marsh.
She could hear the muck of the marsh bottom sucking at his shoes. It was the only sound as he moved slowly and stealthily toward the first curve of tall grasses.
A rifle shot cracked through the air and another flock of water birds rose in a startled flurry.
“Go!” Mark shouted. Then he disappeared under the water. He couldn’t mean that she should actually leave him out there alone against Eaton and Zettel. He surely didn’t mean for her to try to navigate this island without him.
Moving as little as possible, she tucked the water bottles back into the pack and shrugged it over her shoulders. Mentally, she begged Mark to resurface. Staying low, she pressed her back to the nearest tree trunk, away from the sunlight flooding the marsh. The shadows were the safest place right now.
Where was Mark? She didn’t hear any movement from the marsh. Holding her breath, she listened for any sound of the hunters.
She would not panic. She’d been kidnapped, handcuffed and kept in a cage for days. She would not allow terror to wreck whatever Mark had planned. If she got caught, it would make Mark’s job of getting them off this island that much harder.
Where was he? She stayed in the low crouch, doing her best impersonation of a scrappy strawberry blond palmetto palm. He had to resurface for the sake of her sanity. Or if not her sanity, for the sake of more kisses.
A twig snapped behind her and she jumped, swallowing the startled cry.
“This way, Lottie.”
His scrubs were soaked through and with the moss and grass stuck in his hair and clothing he resembled a B movie monster. He’d never looked better to her. She would have leaped into his arms if Zettel weren’t out there looking for large sudden movements.
As they distanced themselves from the edge of the marsh, she realized he must have snapped that twig on purpose. He’d lost his shoes in the marsh and not one of his steps fell wrong or created any noise. She was the one most likely leaving a loud and visible trail as they moved toward the center of the island.
Mark didn’t seem to care. He just kept pressing forward.
They came across the creek again and Mark paused to drink from a water bottle and rinse his hair.
His confidence that they were momentarily clear rubbed off on her. She stepped close and wrapped him in a big hug, resting her cheek against his damp chest, ignoring the muck as she breathed him in.
“I thought…” She couldn’t say the rest, could only cling, grateful the worst hadn’t happened. “I know you’re trained and used to dangerous situations.”
“Not quite like this,” he admitted. His arms came around her, melting away a layer of fear. “I’m here. I won’t leave you.”
“Thank you.” It was silly and felt like a woefully inadequate sentiment. “The rifle shot shouldn’t have surprised me.” She forced herself to back up and give him room.
“It is why we’re out here,” he agreed with a small grin.
“We need to find shoes for you.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, his gaze aimed at the trees. “It can wait. We’ll keep moving,” he said, his voice pitched low.
They headed out, in the same pattern as before with Mark in the lead and her trying to follow without leaving a trail. Thick patches of vegetation that hid their passing also made for slow going and tough hiking. When they stopped again for a water break, they rested against a live oak tree green with resurrection fern and dripping with Spanish moss. As he opened one of the meal bars and gave her half, it dawned on her.
“You,” she said quietly. She broke off a piece of the bar so she wouldn’t wolf it down.
“What about me?” Mark’s gaze scoured the area they’d just traveled.
“You are the answer to that silly what-would-you-bring-to-a-deserted-island question. I’d bring you.”
He turned all of that intense survival focus on her. “Gee, thanks. I’d rather you take me to a five-star resort.”
“Obviously.” A delicious little shiver of anticipation skated over her skin. Were they still going to do that? “But you have all the survival skills, and a great sense of humor. Plus, you smell good when you sweat.”
His dark eyebrows arched toward his hairline. “You don’t have to flatter me to keep my spirits up. We’re out of those damn cages.”
“But not quite out of danger.” The conversations in the cage room had been introspective and emotional and still she had more to say. More he should know. That kiss had gone straight to her heart. “And it’s not flattery, Mark. It’s the truth.”
She didn’t want to dwell on worst-case scenarios, but if something went wrong, he should know what he meant to her. Except this wasn’t the best time to confess her feelings. Even Mark, a man who knew she wasn’t the grasping or clingy type, would run away if she said I love you after one kiss.
“I think this mess has altered your logic. Or you’ve had a heatstroke.”
“In this shade?” She’d never known him to be so humble. “I don’t think so.”
“A humidity stroke?”
She covered her mouth before she gave away their position with a loud laugh. As it was, her shoulders shook so much she probably set the tree at her back swaying. “That’s possible,” she whispered, plucking her muddy top away from her skin.
Shaking his head, Mark tucked the empty water bottles and the wrapper from the meal bar inside the pack. Standing, he held out a hand. “Come on. We need to find shelter.”
* * *
Mark glanced up at the midafternoon sky as thunder rumbled. He wouldn’t mind a good drenching rainstorm to reduce visibility and make Zettel and his spotters miserable. If he and Charlotte could get through this first day and night, their chances improved exponentially.
Not that he
expected Eaton to keep his word about letting them go. That was a problem for later. A problem that might not even come to pass. Hank and a rescue team were out there closing in on their position. Mark couldn’t afford to believe anything else.
Charlotte was a trouper. She hiked, carefully and quietly, without complaint. Her strength and grit weren’t a surprise. It took serious courage to put herself and her art on display for the world to judge. No, the real surprise was the tumult in his gut, twisting him inside out.
He told himself he’d feel this way no matter who was out here with him, but it was a lie. Charlotte was more. Her beauty and personality spoke to him, despite the mud and stress and lousy timing. Part of him wanted to park her somewhere as if she was a priceless treasure and just go nuclear on their enemies.
That option, aggressive and straightforward, tempted him. Even banged up, he knew he could get the drop on Zettel or anyone else. But he sensed that was what Eaton expected him to do. If he went on the offensive and one of the hunters or mercenaries got lucky enough to wound him, or worse, Charlotte would be at their mercy.
Her doggedly positive outlook under these dreadful circumstances was a huge help. She’d demonstrated remarkable ingenuity and pluck necessary to survive. Though he hated to admit it, he needed the tenderness and faith she kept pouring out for him. More kisses wouldn’t hurt.
Despite her overwhelming relief when he’d returned from the marsh, she’d been careful with him, one of the toughest operators on the job. It was as if she’d had a map in her head of his bruises and wounds and found the one path that got her close without hurting him more.
He’d hugged her before. That embrace had been different in a thousand ways. Ways that moved him. Shaking it off, he kept searching the terrain for any sign that Zettel was flanking them.
Thunder rolled again. The sky was dark to the west. They needed to find some kind of shelter. With luck, the rain would last all day and they could hide until morning. The driest place would probably be on the ocean side of the island where the breeze kept the weather over land. Of course, the men hunting them would know that too. Someone had anticipated he’d move west and attempt to escape through the marsh to the mainland.
“How do you feel about rain?” he asked.
“I won’t melt.” Her bright smile was a beacon. “At this point, I could use the shower.”
He grinned. There was an image he wouldn’t soon forget. From a practical standpoint, she’d be cold, but he’d happily keep her warm. “If you get clean, you’ll only have to go mudding again.”
She shrugged. “Whatever it takes to get us out of here.”
The dark clouds came in fast and the first fat raindrops started to fall. He led her under the shelter of the heavy sprawling branches of another live oak tree, doing his best to block her from the wind and rain as the storm came in.
“Do you remember our trip to Disneyland?” he asked. He’d been fifteen going on know-it-all and she’d just turned ten.
She shot him an arch look. “As if I could forget the way you and Luke snuck up on Jolene and me on Tom Sawyer Island.”
“You screamed like little girls,” he said, savoring the memory with pride.
“We were little girls.” Her eyes filled with smug satisfaction. “I also recall that we got even in the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse. Now that was a scream.”
“You’re right.” He’d forgotten that part. “I jumped and knocked Luke into a post. His nose bled for days.”
“Minutes,” she corrected.
“His nose was still dripping blood when your mom bought him that pineapple ice-cream thing,” Mark said with dark glee. “That was great.”
“It was gross.” She giggled now as she had then, the sound muffled by the patter of rain on the canopy of leaves. “I had to go buy him another one with my own money.” Her knees pulled to her chest, she rocked into him and away again too quickly. “Still don’t regret getting even.”
“Mom was so mad at us that trip.”
“Well, you were hellions,” she said, a glint of humor lingering in her blue eyes.
“You and Jolene were easy targets on that trip.”
She sobered. “I don’t want to be an easy target out here.” Her teeth were chattering, from cold or fear, he couldn’t be sure. “I don’t want to be a liability to you.”
“You’re not.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I don’t know where you picked up that idea, but you’re no burden.” He tipped up her face, holding her gaze and giving her no room to doubt his words. “You’re everything brave and good, Lottie. Remember that.”
She licked her lips and need surged through his system. He let her lead this time, let her draw his head close for a kiss. He groaned, sinking into her, thoroughly lost.
The pop and hiss of a flare gun jerked him back to attention. Twisting around, he saw the colorful shot of red smoke sailing right over their position. “Damn it.”
There was no way they’d been spotted by chance. He could tell by the angle that the flare had been shot from a point perpendicular to their route, not by someone who’d trailed behind them or had come around to cut off their suspected route to the coast.
A shout carried through the rain and a response followed. Zettel wasn’t wasting time on subtlety.
Mark urged Charlotte to the far side of the wide tree trunk. They didn’t have much time to escape, but he was determined to find out how they were being tracked. Nothing obvious had been put into the pack when Quick-Punch Kid loaded the supplies. He supposed some new tracking tech could be on the scrubs, but the devices he knew of that could withstand the marsh and the creek were big enough to be noticed.
Cameras. Regardless of Zettel, this was Eaton’s game and he loved nothing more than live video. He’d probably had the entire island covered in a closed-circuit network while planning this scheme.
Where was it? He crouched low, scanning their surroundings for something too straight or clean, or a telltale light that a device was active. Come on, come on. His gut told him he was right about this. He moved and caught the flicker of a red dot. Motion-activated recording. Clever.
Rounding the wide tree trunk, he clasped Charlotte’s hand. The rain was coming down hard enough to mask their trail. They ran, somewhat blindly to the north and east. It didn’t really matter, especially if Eaton’s camera network did in fact cover the whole island.
Once again, he wished he had his team at his back. As a unit, they were unstoppable. Although they’d all had the same training, each of them had specific strengths. Mark wasn’t the top guy on the team when it came to the tech stuff, but he was no slouch.
He pressed the pack into Charlotte’s care. “Wait here.”
“Mark, no.”
He hesitated, hating the worry in her beautiful eyes. “Eaton posted motion-activated cameras around the island.”
Her auburn eyebrows snapped into a scowl. She let loose a colorful, creative string of oaths that would’ve made his SEAL team blush.
“Agreed.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I’m doubling back to take out the camera near that tree. Wait here.”
She grabbed for his arm. “What do I do if…”
“Zettel doesn’t actually want you dead. Work that to your advantage if he finds you before I get back. Remember, the cameras are motion-activated. Stay low and don’t move.”
“All right.”
He crawled several yards away from her on his belly and then popped up, ready to lead Zettel and Eaton’s cameras on a merry chase. All the while, his mind was on Charlotte, on the consistencies and contrasts of her. How could her lips taste so sweet while a tempest brewed in her big blue eyes?
“No one likes a cheater, Eaton,” he murmured. He’d been inclined to take out the camera nearest her hiding place, but if he did that, it was as good as shooting off anothe
r flare. It was time to get unpredictable.
One of Zettel’s men was loitering not far from the oak where they’d been hiding, his movements keeping that red dot on the camera lit. He didn’t appear to be armed with anything more than the flare gun.
Mark’s first instinct was to step up behind him and snap the man’s neck: one less thug blocking his escape. If he did, the brutal act would be caught on the camera.
At Eaton’s discretion, the video could be leaked and the world would see a trained Navy SEAL killing a man standing around, minding his own business. The stain on the Riley name would be permanent and his father’s reputation forever attached to the disaster. That kind of thing would leave the navy and SEAL program scrambling under the resulting media scrutiny, as well.
Thinking it through, he was 99 percent sure that was Eaton’s goal out here. Bringing in the hunter only gave Mark more victims to destroy. No way would Mark play right into Eaton’s hands.
Mark picked his way around, moving with the gusty storm, until he was behind the camera.
As Zettel’s man continued to pace and watch, Mark pulled the plug connecting the device to the battery pack on the supporting stake. It was a clever design and now that he knew what to look for, it would be easier to locate more cameras and undermine the effort.
That still left the problem of Zettel’s spotter.
He could sneak away, but he’d rather not. It was a golden opportunity to even the odds. Mark shoved the camera under some scrubby plants and took the stake in hand. Anger and indignation pushed him. He wanted to kill the man, but this guy had nothing to do with the kidnapping. He was nothing more than a pawn. A nasty pawn, working this hunt with Zettel, but maiming him and taking any helpful gear was the smarter move.
Standing tall, he cleared his throat. “Looking for me?”
The man spun around and his jaw dropped. It was the split-second advantage Mark needed. He charged as the other man scrambled for the flare gun. Applying pressure to the man’s neck, Mark subdued his opponent before he could put up any resistance.
Mark let the man drop to the ground with a hard thud. “Ouch. That’ll leave a mark.” He searched the man’s vest and pants for weapons or a radio and found only the flare gun and flares.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set Page 86
