Kellen’s knees gave way, and she sat. “She’s…showing off that she hasn’t been caught?”

“She has been caught. Twice.”

Kellen finally understood. “Neither of the women were Mara Philippi.”

“Exactly.” Max seated himself beside her. “Both looked incredibly like Mara. One was homeless. One was a housewife whose husband had left her with three young children and a house payment. Both admitted they’d taken money to play a hoax. What they did wasn’t strictly illegal.”

“Wasn’t it?” Kellen was hostile and angry.

“The homeless woman has a very limited IQ, it’s doubtful she had any idea what kind of fraud she was perpetuating, and the housewife was desperate for cash. They’ve both been released on their own recognizance, and with a warning.”

“Mara’s back in the States,” Kellen breathed.

“Exactly. But with these multiple sightings, the agencies have no idea where. What is clear is that she still has some kind of network she controls—”

“Of course she does. Until she’s dead, she’ll never be helpless.”

“And law enforcement believes she’s trying to smoke us out of hiding.”

“Could she be here on the island?” Kellen gestured toward the window where they’d watched Rae ride away.

“Why would she be trying to smoke us out if she knows where we are?”

Kellen nodded in acknowledgment.

“If she does know—how would she get here? We’re out a long way. She’d have to have a seaworthy vessel to get close, there’s no harbor, we’re surrounded by submerged rocks, and those waves are rough. An aircraft? We’d hear a helicopter, and it’s not like she could have parachuted in—the winds are too erratic, the best probability is she’d land in the ocean.”

“And drown.”

His glance acknowledged Kellen’s hopeful tone. “Then—where could she hide? It’s a sparse island with not much cover, only Paradise Cove where the intern would typically be camping, and the redwoods, and she’d be roughing it if she was out there. The Conkles’ house?” He stood and looked out the window as if rethinking his decision to let Rae go.

“Max.” Kellen didn’t know how to say what she’d seen. “So much blood. On the walls, on the furniture. Mara is crazy, but she likes her creature comforts.” Kellen remembered the exacting standards with which Mara had run the spa at Yearning Sands resort. “She would never stay there.”

“So it comes down to this—the FBI wants us to stay put. They think we’re safe here.”

“I thought we were packing up.”

“We are. The Coast Guard wants us to come in. They say the storm’s a monster, and we’ll be in trouble.”

“In danger?”