For Olivia, it was a strange feeling to be disconnected from Travis. At first, she’d felt like he was stalking her. Then when she could finally acknowledge that she welcomed his presence, she’d thrown herself into the relationship. She’d been alone for so long, and suddenly there was this presence who understood what she’d been going through all these years. He’d lived it the same as she had. Well, not exactly the same, but similar. She’d let herself start to feel that this was the beginning of something normal. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. The rest of the world would never understand the magic of it.
Yet at the same time, it was a relief to be away from him for a while. There was nothing she could hide from him. Every thought, every emotion was open to him. Was there a way to shield her mind? Was that one of the skills Smith hadn’t mentioned because there would be no reason for him to know about it? The only things he’d picked up on were outward manifestations of the link between the children from the fertility clinic.
When Olivia got to the Bay Bridge, she had to concentrate on her driving. Like many people who had to cross the bridge, she shuddered over the height and the feeling of being suspended above the water. As she traversed the span, she kept her eyes glued to the car ahead of her, and when she got to Kent Island on the other side, she breathed a little sigh of relief.
From there, it was a straight shot down Route 50 to St. Stephens. Unique Interiors was on Main Street, where most of the tourist-centered businesses were located. She drove around to the parking area in back and went in to find Sarah Riley.
“Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” she apologized the moment she saw the shop owner.
“You’re here now. Thanks for coming right over.”
Two men were on hand to unload the chests, benches, and tables that Olivia had brought over. She and Sarah inventoried the new arrivals, and Olivia signed a consignment agreement. She could have opted to sell the items to Sarah outright, but that way, she would have had to accept less money. When she took the risk of leaving a consignment, she earned a greater share of the profits.
With the transaction completed, she returned to the van. She’d told Travis that she was coming right back, but even when she’d made the statement, she’d wondered if it was true. In the back of her mind, she’d been planning to stop by the marina where Travis’s boat was parked. Maybe she could even slip on board and have a look around. To pick up clues? Or was that going too far? Surely the men who’d abducted him wouldn’t have left any evidence. But they could have overlooked something, another part of her mind argued, like…what about fingerprints?
She made a scoffing sound. If people regularly chartered theFar Horizon, there would be tons of fingerprints. It would be like trying to locate a particular guest who had stayed in a hotel room.
Still, instead of immediately turning for home, she reached into the seat pocket in back of her and took out a sun hat. After pulling her hair into a ponytail and securing it with a scrunchy, she tucked the gold-red mass under the hat and checked to see if any was showing. She shoved a few loose strands out of sight before turning toward the marina. It wasn’t at the main dock in the downtown area, but at a smaller facility on one of the wide creeks that ran through the area.
* * *
Before investigatingBrant’s Creek Marina, Gabe stopped at one of the shopping centers that were springing up even in this once remote area. In a sporting goods store, he bought the cheapest fishing rod he could find, along with a tackle box. On surveillance assignments, he always kept a change of clothing in his trunk. He pulled out a pair of well-worn jeans, scuffed athletic shoes, and a plaid shirt. He used a dressing room at the store to change, then added an Orioles cap to the outfit. He debated stopping at a bait store to buy some worms, then decided that it was going too far. Nobody was going to search him for night crawlers.
In his new disguise, he headed for Brant’s Creek. As he’d done at the house, he checked out the area. The marina opened onto a parking area that also served several small stores. In fact, if he still wanted bait, he’d be able to get it right here—also coffee, a sandwich, or some sports clothing. Maybe they would have been cheaper than at the more modern-looking place where he’d shopped.
As he cruised past the shopping area, he spotted a guy in a green shirt slouched down behind the wheel of a battered Ford. His face was hidden by the bill of a black baseball cap. Although seeing the guy wasn’t ironclad confirmation that the area was being watched, it was suspicious, particularly since Gabe had been sure that someone was staking out Carson’s residence.
He drove past, noting that instead of a sidewalk on the creek side of the street, there was a six-foot-wide boardwalk with a sign announcing the marina. Coming off the boardwalk at right angles were five narrow piers with boats moored on either side. Some were quite small, but others were probably the right size for theFar Horizon.
Miss Wilder had told him that Carson’s boat was moored along the second pier from the left. He couldn’t see the vessel from the street, but it couldn’t be too far away since the creek was narrow.
He drove past and pulled into a space at the edge of the parking area. He sat there for twenty minutes, watching to see if the man in the car had any obvious reason to be there, but the guy stayed where he was.
Gabe cursed under his breath. If he got out of his car and headed for the boat, he could be putting a target on his back. He debated leaving and coming back by water. But the watchers might have that end covered as well.
He was about to leave when he saw a white van come slowly by. A woman was at the wheel, and he watched her circle the lot, looking for a space. She could be making a delivery to one of the boats or one of the stores.
As he watched her, he had the feeling that she wasn’t familiar with the area. There was no reason to believe he should keep an eye on her, but just in case, he jotted down the license number of the van as she circled past again, then found a space and parked.
She didn’t get out immediately, but when she finally made a decision, she stood staring at the marina sign as though she were psyching herself up to approach. Her hesitation gave him the opportunity to get a better look at her. She was slender and very appealing, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and wearing a wide-brimmed hat that didn’t quite match the outfit. An attempt to disguise her appearance? He thought she was probably in her late twenties or early thirties, with the pale skin that probably belonged to a redhead.
Was she somehow connected to the men who had abducted Carson? Or was she here for the same reason as he—trying to find out what had happened to him?
There was no solid reason to make assumptions about why she was there. But he’d learned to pay attention to his hunches. Now her indecisive behavior solidified his feeling that she wasn’t planning to buy fishing tackle. Was she here because of Travis Carson? And if so, where did her loyalties lie? With him, or the mysterious men who were staking out his house and marina?
When she finally made up her mind to head for the marina, Gabe saw the slouching guy sit up and take notice.
The woman hesitated for a moment before angling toward the second pier from the left—the one with Carson’s boat.
Grabbing his fishing pole and tackle box, Gabe strode across the street. He let her get onto the boards of the dock. Before she had taken more than a few steps, he made it onto the boards.
“Honey, wait up!”
She turned, confusion plastered across her face.
“This is the wrong marina,” he called out, loud enough for Mr. Slouch to hear.
“I don’t...”
