Something in the words sent a chill through Jack. His father had done something he didn’t quite understand…developed a compulsion to move down here, to this particular development, right outside the Everglades, close to the lagoon where Semelee and her clan lived…

…close to a nexus point.

Hadn’t Carl told him that he’d developed a yearning—an “ache,” as he put it—to get back to the place where he’d been born, back to the lagoon…?

Back to that same nexus point.

Coincidence?

He’d been told there’d be no more coincidences in his life.

Was someone or some thing moving pieces around the board—Jack’s board?

But wait…Anya had said she’d done part time work addressing brochures. Had she sent one to his father? Had she influenced him to come down here? So she could—what?—protect him?

Jack’s head spun. One thing he knew was he wanted his father out of here, out of Gateways, out of the whole damn state.

“Nothing says you can’t go back. In fact, I think you should. I’m sure Jersey’s got a load of graduated care places, if that’s what you want.”

Dad stood silent a moment, then, “I don’t know. I’d feel like an old fool.”

“Which is more foolish: admitting you made a mistake and rectifying it, or hanging around a place you don’t like?”

“When you put it that way…” He shook his head. “I’ll have to think about it.” He clapped his hands. “But no matter what I decide, we have to eat tonight. I’ll run out and get eggs and cheese and some ham. I make a mean omelet. How’s that sound for dinner?”

“Perfect.”

With a pang of reluctance, Jack gave him the keys to his rental. He had an urge to go with him, to not let him out on his own unprotected, but Semelee had said he wasn’t a target, and he believed her. She’d had Jack at her mercy—outnumbered and outgunned—when she’d said it, so she’d had no reason to lie.

11

As soon as he was alone, Jack pulled out the toys. He inspected them for repaired seams, found one on each, and slit it open. He removed the sundry weapons Abe had sent him and, armed with a screwdriver and an adjustable wrench, hid them around the house.

Then he called Gia. She and Vicky and the baby were doing fine.

“When are you coming home, Jack?” Vicky asked. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Vicks, and I’ll be home as soon as I can. As soon as I know my dad’s okay.”

He seemed okay now, but it would take a little doing to make sure he stayed that way.