“Kimo,” Kalea’s voice sounded through the cell phone. “Alana’s a strong woman. She’s going to be okay. We have to believe that.”
“If she’s not already dead, they might just go to find a place to ditch her body,” Kimo murmured. “Like they did those people in the shipping container. They were shackled to the walls. They had no way to escape.”
“No wonder those men attacked you,” Kalea said. “If they were responsible for that container being where you found it, and for the people inside, they wouldn’t want any witnesses. Hawk’s right to send one of his men to protect you.”
“I saw men on the boat, but I wasn’t close enough to identify any of their faces.”
“Did you see a registration number on the side of the boat?” Kalea asked.
“No, and there wasn’t a name across the back. I think it was one of those low-profile vessels. We heard it before we could see it. By then, it was too late.”
“Yeah, but you saw what they’d done.”
“Kimo,” Hawk’s voice came back on the line. “I’m on the phone with the Coast Guard about the shipping container. Did you happen to get the coordinates of the location?”
Kimo nodded and held up her dive watch. “I did. On my dive watch.” She read off the coordinates to him.
Hawk repeated the coordinates to the Coast Guard representative and added, “Got it? Good.” He paused. “Yes, I’ll let you know if I learn of anything else. Thank you. Out here.” Hawk said, “They’re sending another boat to that location.”
“Are you going to be all right?” Kalea asked. “I’d fly out tonight, but my plane is in the shop for annual maintenance.”
“I’ll be all right,” Kimo responded without adding that Alana might not be okay. She had to believe she would be found. Alive. They couldn’t give up on her.
“Kimo?” Kalea’s voice sounded softly. “Are you still with us?”
Kimo stared up at the ceiling of the ambulance. “It was supposed to be a beautiful night dive to photograph marine life and the bioluminescence. And it was beautiful. I took some great shots. We found the shipping container but needed to surface to exchange tanks and find a pry bar to open the door of the container. I downloaded the photos onto my laptop.”
She shook her head. “Now that laptop’s gone with my boat.”
“Did you take a photo of the shipping container before you came up for air?” Hawk asked.
Kimo frowned. “Just the outside of it. As I said, we needed leverage to get the door open wide enough to look inside. While Alana switched tanks, I downloaded the photos to my laptop and collected a pry bar.”
“Kimo,” Hawk’s tone grew tense. “Was there any form of personal identification on the dive boat?”
“Yeah. My purse was on the boat with my cell phone, driver’s license and boater education card inside.”
“Which have your name and address on them,” Kalea said.
“They’ll know where to find you,” Kelea said.
“And they have your laptop,” Hawk said. “They have the photos you took. If they find out you didn’t die, you’re the only person who has seen the shipping container. Eliminate you, and the authorities have no proof.”
“Unless the Coast Guard finds the shipping container,” Kimo said.
“And if they don’t find it?” Kalea said.
“The images are still on my camera.” Kimo’s gut clenched. She looked around the interior of the ambulance. “My camera!”
“Do you still have it?” Hawk asked.
“No. I must have dropped it when I released my BCD. I had pictures of the container and the victims on that camera.” She fought against the restraints. “Let me out of here. Please.”
The EMT laid a hand on her arm. “You need to see a doctor.”
“I have to find my camera.” She fumbled with the cell phone. It slipped from her fingers and clattered against the floor.
Kimo twisted and turned, clawing at the straps holding her on the stretcher. “Please, let me out.”
