A Defiant Woman, page 23
If only she’d been able to conceal that phone better. Her only hope was that they’d passed through the dead zone, and that Gage had reached out about the car and the backpack with the money inside it, alerting Nan that she was in danger.
Kate sighed. That was a pipe dream. She’d been suspicious of Nan, and she assumed Nan must also be suspicious of her. After all, she’d told Nan that she found the phone in Hank’s car. Why would Nan have any reason to trust her? Nan might well think Kate was part of the plan to trap her.
She peered out the window again but realized they must have moved in the night because the yacht was closer to land now than it had been. She gauged the distance—could she make it if she swam? She thought about Lizzie’s fear of sharks. While it was doubtful these waters were shark-infested, she had heard reports now and then of an attack off Cape Cod. Right now, she might risk it just to escape.
She wished she knew where they were, exactly. Not that it would help, but just to get her geographical bearings.
It helped keep her fear at bay to think about these things.
More heavy footsteps passing the door. How many people were there on the yacht?
She heard fumbling at the lock, then suddenly the door swung open. Gage stood in the doorway, his gun trained on her.
Kate took a step back. Another flashback of being held at gunpoint crashed into her. Will Stafford hadn’t hesitated to shoot her; would Gage shoot her, too?
“Where is she?” Gage demanded, waving the gun in front of her face.
Kate took another step back. “Who?”
“The girl. Where is she?”
Kate frowned. Was he asking about Lizzie? “In her stateroom, I imagine. You did lock us in.” But as she spoke, it dawned on her that he wouldn’t be asking if Lizzie was still next door. Where could she have gone if she’d gotten out? Was she hiding somewhere on the yacht? It was large enough so there were probably places for a preteen girl to hide. And then Kate had a purely selfish thought: If Lizzie had gotten out of her room, why hadn’t the girl unlocked her door, too?
She shook it aside. There must be a reason, although she was hard-pressed to think of any at the moment. It couldn’t be that Lizzie was kidnapped—wouldn’t that be ironic, being kidnapped from her kidnapper?
“You’re hiding her,” Gage said.
“How on earth could I do that? You locked me in here,” Kate said.
Gage moved swiftly toward Kate, grabbing her as he pressed the gun to her temple. “Where is she?” he repeated.
The gun was cold against her skin, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the shot. She shifted involuntarily; his grip tightened. She was pressed up against him, his musty body odor filling her nose, and she could feel the hardness of his muscles. She didn’t stand a chance against him under any circumstances.
But then she felt something else. A phone in his front jeans pocket. There was no way to get to it without sticking her hand inside. She wasn’t a professional pickpocket, after all. How could she get him to relinquish the phone—and put the gun away?
“I could make a call,” she said. “I could get you that million dollars. Maybe more, if you’ll release me. It could be between you and me. No one has to know. My husband is a billionaire; I’m sure he’ll make a deal.”
He took a quick breath, and for a second, she thought she had him. Instead, he pressed the gun harder and said, “You must think I’m really stupid.”
As if in slow motion, out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw his finger reaching for the trigger.
58 ANNA
Steve Gardiner met them at the airport. Anna got the sense it was unexpected, him being there, because Hank sent Anna and Cromwell to find the car while he spoke to Gardiner. One of the two security guards who’d accompanied them on the flight followed; the other stayed back with Hank, although he gave Hank and Gardiner space to talk.
“What do you think that’s about?” Anna asked. She didn’t expect Cromwell to answer and was surprised when he did.
“He was supposed to meet us at the marina. Not here.” Cromwell’s tone was clipped. He was annoyed as well, but Anna supposed it had more to do with the rivalry between Cromwell and Gardiner than anything else.
The driver was loading their bags into the back when they got to the parking lot. It was a very small airport surrounded by woods. Anna had never been to this part of Connecticut before and wondered how long it would take them to get to the marina.
When Hank and Gardiner joined them at the car, Anna sensed a tension between them, not dissimilar to the one between Cromwell and Gardiner. It was more than possible that Hank held Gardiner responsible for the ransom drop-off screwup: Gardiner had been in charge of it, which did not bring back Lizzie and resulted in Kate’s disappearance. Hank held his people to the highest standards and expected nothing less than perfection from them. Gardiner was failing on all fronts.
Cromwell held the car door open for her, and Anna climbed in, the three men after her.
An uncomfortable silence filled the car as it maneuvered its way on back roads. Anna had never traveled with Hank like this before, even during their short marriage, which was more a business arrangement: she would stay with the children while he attended to his companies. He preferred to keep his wives at a distance when it came to his businesses. Ironically, he’d married Anna to acquire her father’s company’s newspapers, which she’d been running after his death.
The car eventually turned up a driveway in front of a white Colonial. When she stepped out of the car, Anna could see a wide, green lawn that stretched down to the water. Unlike at the Vineyard, though, this was a river inlet, not the ocean. Anna was uncertain whether this was a property rental or if Hank owned it; it was more than possible it was the latter. Hank had houses everywhere and seemingly bought and sold them with the ease of someone playing Monopoly.
The security team brought their bags into the house after checking everything out and giving the all clear. Anna was directed to a bedroom at the top of the stairs, and she found it easily. Her bag sat on the queen-size bed that wore a cozy patchwork quilt. She wished they were staying here under better circumstances. Lizzie and Ted would love that yard outside.
Hank poked his head inside the doorway. He wore a worried expression. Was he afraid he’d lose yet another wife?
Anna went over to him and touched his arm, compelled to try to give him some kind of comfort. “We’ll find both of them,” she said softly. As she spoke, she wondered how she could bring up Tom Seymour’s meeting with the investigator. Somehow it seemed important that Hank be aware of it. But she’d have to approach it carefully. He would not be happy that she was talking to a reporter.
Hank covered her hand with his. It was large and warm, and she was reminded of the early days of their courtship, when Hank was attentive and remarkably affectionate. Few people saw that side of him, which was why there was so much speculation as to how he managed to keep finding women who would marry him. Anna had seen the way he was with Kate, and she’d never doubted the feelings between them. But both were being stubborn, refusing to make things right. Sometimes Anna just wanted to shake them both out of it, remind them how much they loved each other.
“When we find them, I won’t take either of them for granted again,” Hank confided, as though reading her mind. “I’ll make things better with Kate—and Lizzie.”
Anna hoped so. He seemed sincere, but it might be too easy for him to fall back into old ways.
The moment passed, and he was all business again. “Gardiner has some sort of lead that we’re going to follow up on. Can you stay here? I’ll have one of the guards outside.”
Would she ever get her freedom back?
“What’s the lead?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Hank snorted. “It’s all very mysterious. It could be Gardiner just talking out of his ass so he’ll get back in my good graces.”
Anna was certain Gardiner was talking as fast as he could.
Now was the time to warn Hank that Tom Seymour was going to be in town, too. If he found out she’d known and didn’t tell him, there would be hell to pay. She still wasn’t quite sure how to broach it, but she might as well just rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with.
“I have to tell you something—” she started, when she heard the buzz of a cell phone. Tom Seymour really needed to leave her alone, especially now.
But she’d forgotten she’d turned her phone off. Instead, Hank took his out of his pocket and frowned at the number. It looked like he wasn’t going to answer but then changed his mind and accepted the call.
“Yes?” he asked.
Suddenly, his face transformed, shock registering in his eyes. “Kate?”
PART V
59 KATE
The second Gage moved his finger toward the trigger, Kate, in one swift knee-jerk reaction, twisted and brought her elbow up toward the weapon. She knocked it askew.
The gunshot rang in her ears, deafening her. She watched Gage’s body fall as if in slow motion, blood spilling from the wound in his temple and across his cheek.
Gage lay splayed on the plush carpet, his eyes open yet unseeing.
Kate stared at his body, her heart racing as the realization of what had happened settled in.
She didn’t mean to kill him. She was only trying to save herself. Protecting herself. He was going to shoot her. He was going to kill her. Justifying it made it far easier to accept.
Kate tried to pop her ears; it felt like she was on an airplane that was descending too fast. She hummed to test whether she could hear herself, and it was as though she were underwater. This was a definite disadvantage, under the circumstances. She might not hear footsteps or voices.
She had to rely on her vision.
Kate glanced around to see if anyone had come in, if anyone had heard the shot, but so far, she was still alone. Her eyes strayed to Gage’s jeans pocket, where she could see the outline of the phone. Another glance at the door, and she stooped down, swiftly pulling the phone from his pocket. She stuck it in her own, then reached for the gun.
It wasn’t very heavy, not unlike the one she’d owned, although it was bigger. She knew how to use a gun; when she’d bought hers, she’d taken lessons to protect herself from an ex-husband who’d stalked her. Will Stafford had gotten his hands on it and used it against her. She’d vowed never to own a gun again, but this was different. She needed it now for the same reason she’d bought hers.
Gripping the gun, she tiptoed to the door and, with her other hand, turned the knob. She opened the door a crack and peered out into the hallway, which was empty, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t waiting to ambush her. Someone must have heard the shot. Known Gage had gone to the stateroom.
The hallway ran along the side of the yacht. Windows overlooked the water, and peering out, Kate saw land. It wasn’t as far away as it looked on the other side.
On the off chance that Lizzie was still next door, that Gage might have been mistaken or lying about her being gone, Kate pushed open the door to the other stateroom. The bed was unmade, the covers bunched up, two pillows on the floor. But no Lizzie.
Kate went into the room and slipped behind the door, closing it so if anyone were to walk past, they wouldn’t see her. Still holding the gun, she used her other hand to reach into her pocket and retrieve the phone. It wasn’t easy with one hand, maneuvering so she could make a call, but she managed to tap in Hank’s phone number—thank God she’d been his assistant and knew the number by heart—and hit the CALL icon.
Her hand holding the gun began to shake as the adrenaline began to wear off. She almost dropped it but managed to readjust her grip.
Answer, answer, she whispered to herself. She had the volume on so low, even if she could hear properly, she might not hear it ringing, but she saw that the call was finally picked up.
“Hank?” she whispered, holding the phone against her ear. “Hank?”
She strained to hear his voice, and through the tunnel effect, she heard him say her name. She didn’t have time to explain. She got to the point.
“I’m on a boat. A yacht. It’s called The Aragon. Lizzie’s here, too. I don’t know where we are. You have to help us. Please, find us.”
No response. Had he hung up on her? Was he that angry with her? Kate’s head was spinning, unable to think straight, but when she looked at the phone, she saw that there was no signal. Another dead zone. Had he heard her at all? What if the call had cut out before she told him the name of the yacht? She was certain if he’d heard her, he could track it; that’s how he’d found the Perseverance at the Vineyard marina.
She stuck the phone back in her pocket. There wasn’t time to speculate. She had to find Lizzie. It was obvious she had managed to escape her room, and since there was literally nowhere else to go, she must be hiding somewhere.
Kate held on to the gun as she crept along the hall. Her ears popped a little, but she couldn’t hear anything. Was she still impaired or was there nothing to hear?
Ducking her head into yet another stateroom, she saw it was immaculately made up. No one had disturbed it. She swiftly went to the closets and peered inside. No Lizzie. A quick look into the en suite told her the same thing: Lizzie wasn’t here.
Did she dare climb the staircase to the next deck? Someone might be lying in wait for her there. But she had the gun, which gave her a definite advantage. She slowly went up, one hand on the gun, the other on the railing to steady herself. She pictured the layout: she’d come up next to the open dining and salon area, the outside deck was through the sliding glass doors.
So far, she saw no one. Was the yacht abandoned? Had Gage been the only one on board? It wasn’t moving, so perhaps they were anchored and everyone else—captain, crew—had left?
Kate was halfway across the salon when she heard it. Her first thought was, I can hear again. But then, she understood what that meant. She wasn’t alone after all.
The voice drifted up from below.
“He’s dead.”
They’d found Gage—and knew she was gone.
“She’s got to be somewhere, but it doesn’t look like she’s down here.”
Kate scurried up the stairs and went around past the dining table to the other side of the yacht. She spotted another set of stairs. It all went in a circle. If they’d already searched downstairs, that might be a good place to hide—as long as she didn’t meet anyone coming up while she was going down. But luck was on her side. She heard muffled voices above her. They must have gone upstairs another way.
She was glad for her canvas shoes, which didn’t make a sound as she made her way back to the stateroom where Gage’s body still lay sprawled on the floor. She gently opened one of the wardrobe doors and saw a white terry cloth robe hanging from the rod. Pushing it aside, Kate slipped inside, glad that whoever owned this yacht felt the need for a large closet. She pulled the door shut after making sure she’d be able to get out if necessary. She kept one hand on the door latch; the other still held the gun.
Kate was betting that hiding in the same room as Gage’s body was the safest place for her. They wouldn’t think she’d stick around, would they? She nestled back into the closet, sinking down in a squat, ready to move if she had to and hoping that call to Hank went through and that Lizzie was safe somewhere.
60 CATHERINE
They’re both gone.”
This was not the news she’d been expecting.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“Just what I said. They must have had help.”
What help? Catherine had put too much money into this to have anyone “help” anyone. “What about the cameras?” she asked.
“Offline.”
So, there had been help after all.
Someone else was pulling the strings. Catherine was at a distinct disadvantage. How could the girl and the wife get off a yacht without being seen?
“We’ve searched everywhere.”
Clearly not everywhere, Catherine thought. Maybe they’d decided to swim for it. She would admire that tenacity. But it was more likely that they were still on the yacht somewhere.
“The wife killed Gage, and she might have his gun.”
This news surprised her even more. Who was Gage? The wife killed him? It was getting worse and worse. Catherine didn’t want to get pulled into this mess. Just the fact that they’d called her was hitting too close to home.
But she couldn’t let them know she was in the dark. “Have they seen you?” she asked.
“No. Just Gage.”
And Gage was conveniently dead. There was only one option.
“Get rid of him,” Catherine ordered.
“What?”
“Get rid of him.” She shouldn’t have to repeat herself.
“How?”
When she’d devised this plot, it had been far simpler. She found herself unexpectedly missing Joan, who had been reliable and loyal for years. She wouldn’t have hired incompetents who allowed the wife to kill anyone and then go missing—much less taken orders from someone else. She also wouldn’t have lost the daughter.
But Joan had crossed a line. She’d gone back to see her wife—and Anna Klein had seen her, too. Catherine couldn’t trust that Joan would stay away, could no longer be assured that Joan would keep her secrets. She pushed aside any regrets. What was done was done, and there was nothing she could do about it now.
“You’re on the water. Use some creativity.”
“What do we do if we find them?”
For goodness’ sakes, who were these people?
Again, she wondered who’d authorized taking the wife. It had to be Gardiner. She wouldn’t have played it this way. Catherine worried that rather than split Hank and the wife up, it might bring them together again—and that was definitely not the plan. Gardiner had acted rashly and, by not considering the possibilities, left Catherine in an uncomfortable position.
