“Are you thinking all of this,” he waves his hand around, “has something to do with Cassie?”

I hesitate, uncertain how much to share. Curious what Wayne knows. But it’s not my business, and that’s not why I’m here.

A relatively short man wearing a white tank, black shorts, and black sandals waves from the far end of the dock. He gives Wayne a thumbs-up signal but remains positioned at the end of the dock.

“Santiago lives at this marina. Guy is always here,” Wayne says.

My phone vibrates, and Wayne stares at me in a way that compels me to explain, “It’s my TA.”

“Alex. Hey. You’re not going to believe this,” Timothy says.

“What?”

“Someone broke into the building again last night. Your office is trashed.”

“Only mine?” I ask, leaning forward on the seat and holding a hand over my other ear to help with hearing him.

“No, no. Like the whole floor. It’s like crazy kids went tearing through searching for copies of exams or grades. Police tape is back up.”

“You’re kidding. They think it was students? Did they take exams?” Honestly, it wouldn’t matter to me if someone did steal my exams. I plan to make new ones each year. “Why would someone tear through multiple offices for copies of exams?”

“To sell them. Who knows? But I wanted to let you know. No reason to stop by the office today. They aren’t letting us up. It’s like Groundhog Day.”

The engines on the boat churn a greater amount of water, and a plume of dark smoke shoots out the back of the boat.

“I’ve got to go,” I tell Timothy. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“You ready?” Wayne asks.

“Let me make a phone call real quick. My office was broken into.”

“Well, that’s a shame.”

My gaze falls to my phone as I pull up my contact list. The sun glares down on the glass, and I tilt it away so I can better read the screen. A shadow falls over the phone.

The barrel of a handgun points at me. Time freezes. I blink. Process.

“Get any funny ideas, and this bullet rips through your spine. Hand me your phone.”

Across the dock, tied into the slip on the opposing side, there’s another yacht with a deep, wide deck. I hurl the phone. It clatters across the deck of the boat.

Wayne has a choice. He can leave a traceable phone to my last location, or he can leave me with a chance to run.

“Think you’re smart,” he growls.

The hair on my arms rises. Wayne’s affable tone has transformed into deep and savage. It’s a complete personality transformation.

Think. Survive.

“Security cameras are out here.” I raise an arm, pointing to one of the light poles. “They’re going to figure out it’s you.”

The gun remains trained on my chest.

Reason. Buy time.

“If you do this, you will go to jail. Think about it. A street camera had to have seen you approaching the marina.” Talking this through, it’s clear. He will get caught. This doesn’t bode well for him. Unless he has someone who can hack into Santa Barbara’s street cameras.