He’d do it, too, Hank thought. “I’m not having you go AWOL on my account. I’ll handle it. If Carine knows anything that would help me help her sister,” he added pointedly, for Carine’s benefit, “she’d tell me.”

Carine didn’t respond, still pretending not to be listening.

“The Winters don’t think like normal people,” Ty said. “How many women do you know who would stay by themselves in the only cottage on a barrier island with a hurricane churning up the coast? If Antonia doesn’t think she needs to leave, she’s not going to.”

“Any advice?”

“Bring her a toe tag. Then the rescue workers can identify her body.”

“North, for God’s sake—”

“It’ll get her attention. She’s an E.R. doctor. She knows what happens to people who don’t heed safety warnings made in their best interest.”

He hung up.

Hank stared a moment at his dead phone. The surprise wasn’t that Tyler North had canceled his wedding to Carine Winter at the last minute. The surprise was that it had ever been on in the first place.

He sighed at her. “You were really going to marry him?”

She managed a halfhearted smile. “It seems crazy now, doesn’t it? Are you—Hank, Antonia specifically asked me not to tell you—”

“I suspected as much. And yes, I’m going.”

“She’s very independent. She’s not used to—” Carine broke off, then resumed. “She won’t like the idea of anyone thinking she might need to be rescued. Me, you. It doesn’t matter. It means we think she’s in a situation she can’t handle on her own.”

“It’s not a fun place to be. But if you’re there, you’re there.”

Carine nodded, saying nothing.

“Carine, is it just the hurricane?”

“No.” Her voice was barely audible, but she cleared her throat and went on in a normal tone. “There’s something else. But she wouldn’t tell me.”

She left it at that, and for the first time, Hank saw the sadness that still clung to her. Usually it was buried under anger and stubbornness—the resolve not to let Tyler North be the ruin of her. But not this time. “Do you know anything?” Hank asked softly. “Do you have any ideas?”

“I think she’s scared. That’s not like her.” She pushed a hand through her hair and seemed to force her mood to shift from its palpable uneasiness. “Are you taking a posse with you or going alone?”

By posse, Hank knew she meant not just the people who surrounded him as a candidate, but his air force buddies, led by pararescuers Tyler North. But he shook his head. “I’m going alone.”

She forced a smile. “I guess there are some things you can still do alone.”

CHAPTER 3

Follow the wannabe senator.