Chapters (78)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Also by Owen Laukkanen
Joy looked at him with those black eyes again, and Harwood looked away involuntarily. The sooner he didn’t have to deal with the Nigerian, the happier he’d be. Hell, he’d be perfectly content never to do business with Okafor again. There had to be easier ways to make money.
“Call Mr. Whitmer,” Joy instructed. “Tell him to meet us here with your boat. We’ll attack from the sea, if we can’t do it by air.”
The pilot had overheard. “I don’t have the fuel to hang around while your buddy sails his boat from Deception.”
“He can drive to Neah Bay,” Harwood said. “Launch there.”
“Still going to be tight. You want to risk it, that’s fine, but I reckon this helicopter’s worth a hell of a lot more than whatever you’re chasing down there.”
Joy didn’t react visibly, but Harwood could feel the man’s anger burning. “Listen, they’re trapped in that lagoon until high tide anyway,” he told Joy, trying to diffuse the situation. “Means we have until dark at the very least to get our shit together, come back with a plan.”
“They could paddle the dingy to the mainland,” Joy said. “Or swim.”
“Not with those currents. Those tide rips are wicked through the strait. They’d get swept out to sea or capsized, real easy, and Jess knows it. Swimming’d be even worse.”
Joy thought about this. “Call Mr. Whitmer,” he said. “Tell him to hurry.”
“We’re going to wait?”
“Not necessarily,” Joy replied. “But there’s no sense in dawdling, Deputy, is there?”
“So what are we going to do?”
“We’re going to keep the widow and her friend where we can handle them,” Joy replied. “If we can’t get onto the island, we’ll make sure they can’t get off.”
* * *
The helicopter had circled back to the lagoon, and Mason could see it through the trees as it dropped into a hover over Ty Winslow’s boat. Together with Jess and Lucy, he inched his way through the forest, keeping as low as he could, until he’d nearly reached the waterline. He unslung the shotgun and kept it close at hand as he stared out through the trees at the helicopter.
The sliding side door was open. Mason watched the machine sidle down until it was directly alongside the little boat’s stern, a hundred or so feet in the air.
“What are they planning?” he wondered aloud.
Jess said nothing, her expression grim, just gestured back to the helicopter. Mason turned and looked just in time to see Kirby Harwood poke his face out from the open door. Beside him, the man who’d come out of Shelby Walker’s house was also visible. They both held long guns, aimed down at the troller.
As Mason and Jess watched, the men opened fire.
* * *