Where is she?I search up and down each dead-end street in the vicinity, praying the authorities have sent someone to watch the airports. Suddenly, a familiar color catches my eye. It’s Sam’s sandal. Oh hell. Guarding my eyes, I search the vast ocean until a glint of light sparkles off a tiny metal boat heading away from shore. That’s her. I’m sure of it. I run along the water’s edge, searching for a vessel to steal. I’m about to call nine-one-one again when an official white sedan pulls up behind me.
“Dat’s him.” The guy who’s truck I borrowed jumps out of the back seat.
Ignoring him, I point out across the water. “My wife is out there.”
The native officer scratches his beard, stares, and shakes his head with a frown. “I don’t see anyt’ing, sir.”
I’m about to despair when I remember her flip flop. “This is hers. Can you call for a water rescue? Please, hurry. I know she’s out there.”
In his pristine white outfit, he shows little interest in my missing wife. “Did you steal this man’s truck?”
I open my wallet and hand ten crisp twenty-dollar bills to the Bahamian. “Thank you for the rental.”
“No sir. Thankyou.” Grinning widely, he hops in his truck and drives away.
That settled, I turn to the policeman. “How long before we can get a ship to follow?”
“An hour at the most. Why don’t we take this to the station?” If he suspects I’m about toborrowanother craft, he’s right. By now, she could be anywhere.
With no other option, I hop in the back of his cruiser but each second becomes an eternity.
“Sorry, I can’t do this.” At the next stop, I jump out of the car and dash down the road.
Chapter 15
Sam
Barefoot, I switch on all the bedroom lights. Except for accent pillows and a vase of huge blue blossoms, everything is white. A lacy French coverlet covers a thick down blanket. Whisps of mosquito netting droop from a poster bed while artfully placed lamps and mirrors create the illusion of being underwater.
Still wearing my bikini, I shiver, open a closet, and wrap myself in a terry robe. Tying the belt to my waist, I struggle with the patio doors but they too, are locked.
There has to be way out. Outside, a wrought iron table and table sit on my balcony. Below that, the dock, the walkways, and the beach shine bright as day. Most disturbing are the armed guards, placed every hundred feet.
“Welcome to Heavenly Haven.” When a woman’s voice sounds in my room, I jump a mile until I realize it’s coming from the TV.
In the monitor, a bird’s eye view of the island fades to a nurse in a pink uniform sitting behind the lobby desk I passed earlier.
She stands with a toothy grin, and speaks in a tone better suited for an infomercial. “Here, you are all safe from outside forces. No one can come or go without our staff being alerted. We have five-star accommodations for the most discerning of customers. While we prefer you eat in one of our three restaurants, we also have room service.” The video goes on to describe the massage room, exercise facilities, pool, and beach.
When it ends, a gruff, male voice emits from a speaker in the ceiling. “We know everything about you, Ms. Sutcliff. Should you try to escape, we will kill your whole family, starting with your niece.”
“Wait.” Turning, I crane my neck until I locate a camera above the door. “You must know my Uncle Vinny? You sure you want to do this?”
The man chuckles and not in a nice way. “This isn’t New York. He has no pull here.
Unlike the first video, the second was made on a cell phone. Each scene displays hundreds of surveillance cameras strategically placed throughout the resort. “You will be watched at all times. If you do or say anything even remotely suspicious, you are of no use to us. You will die. Nod if you understand.”
Chapter 16
Suds
“Stop.” The heavy policeman exits his vehicle as I race toward the water.
At the closest dock, I kick off my boots, take a deep breath and dive into the tepid water. Under the surface, I swim to the far side of a speedboat and break the surface near a thick anchor rope. Using it, I hoist myself up and in.
Meanwhile, on land, the angry officer calls for backup.
Emboldened by the lack of bullets, I find wires under the steering wheel and pull them free. After twisting two together, the motor starts. With an expensive GPS as my guide, I point the bow toward Coral Cove, a tiny piece of land south of the Grand Island.
