Instead of satiating Mahana, their support emboldened him. The man was like a child tasting his first pineapple—he clawed for more. Father’s cousin’s soul was laced with darkness. He wore it well, concealing his evil nature behind the name of progress.
“Mahana is behind them,” she affirmed, bold enough to say what had only been hinted at before.
Father pointed to his chest. “Idid not say his name.”
“No, you would not want to summon his apparition.” Nyssa smiled.
“I wish I could send more than Kingston to protect you.”
Kingston was more than enough—more than she traveled with on the island. Here, on her home sand, the people watched out for her; she was every father’s daughter, every mother’s charge. Only when she was alone need she fear, which is why she did not hesitate to travel with a near stranger. Kingston circled the family like a honey bee circled the trees. The trees knew he was there, but the bee did not stop for conversation. “Father, no. I will be safer in America than here and you need to protect yourself and Mother. We cannot afford to hire more men.” The private security firm they had recently hired charged enough to drain the coffers. “Thank you for loving me enough to protect me.”
“I only pray I will be able to continue for years to come.”
“You will. America will help and you will find the one who steals our peace and lock him in the dungeon.”
Father stared out over the courtyard. The stone wall meandered to the pink sand, where it was greeted by the aqua water to the azure blue sky. “Return with honor, but mostly, return to us.”
Nyssa threw her arms around her father’s middle. Such a large man must have a large heart, and at times she believed it was held in the palm of his only daughter’s hand. “I will not let you down.”
He patted her back before she set off to her room to see what her mother packed. Her excitement over leaving the island was dampened by the danger that may lurk within the plaster walls of her very home.
Chapter Two
Almost a full week passed before arrangements were made for Nyssa to sail to a neighboring island with an airstrip and then fly to the US. Making the arrangements for the flight was much easier thanks to the cell tower and the Internet. Nyssa found great satisfaction in the knowledge that Mahana contributed to what would be his downfall—assuming she was successful.
Standing in the wheelhouse of her father’s largest boat, staring at the blockade, Nyssa’s confidence in the success of her journey waned. The sound of the engines went from a roar in the background to a soft purr as they slowed to avoid a collision. A dozen smaller boats were roped together and they moved across the harbor to keep themselves between Nyssa and international waters.
She could not see faces from inside the cabin, but she could hear angry voices and words that were best left out of her native tongue. Not all the men on the boats were local. She made out several of European descent and one redhead. Mahana was widening his circle of influence. The thought sent a shiver across the back of her neck.
The captain’s neck was a tumble of taut ropes, his Adam’s apple bobbing with alarming frequency. The first mate, standing in harm’s way at the prow, was stiff as a stone cut from the mountain. Crew members froze, the whites of their eyes betraying their worry.
The first mate slowly lifted a megaphone to thick lips. “You will allow us passage.”
A small man in a red shirt burst onto the deck of the boat third from the left. He also had a megaphone. “No one will pass.”
“Your boats are small and our boat is large.”
“It is not the size of the boat that matters, but the anger of the man inside.”
Nyssa hissed and made a dash for the door. How dare they threaten these good men and women? Just before they cast off, the first mate had kissed his wife and three children goodbye. She’d watched as the youngest cried for her father to come home. Had these traitors no decency?
“No!” the captain called. A crewman, the sides of his head shaved and the long hair on top secured in a bun, stepped in front of her. She stumbled back, surprised by the quick movement and determination of the stranger.
The captain came to her side, gently taking her elbow and leading her back to the wheel. “No one can know you are on this boat. Your departure must be kept secret, for your own safety.”
“But …” Nyssa hugged herself, thinking of that darling, chubby-faced two-year-old who would never understand why her father didn’t come home. The hate in the eyes of Mahana’s men aboard the offending ships was enough to make Nyssa want to run to the palace and lock the gates. A shadow of warning cast itself across the bow, sending a shiver up her spine.
She had a straight back and a stomach full of worry. “Turn back.”
No one moved. It was as if she hadn’t spoken. “Turn back,” she insisted. “Your lives are more valuable than foolish pride. I will find another way.”
“There is no other way,” blurted the crew member still standing in front of the door.
“If I have to SCUBA to America, I will. But I will not allow your families to suffer because of Mahana.”
The men exchanged glances. The captain weighed his options. He studied the boats, the tethers that bonded them, and the desperation floating in the gypsum. “Reverse thrust,” he ordered.
The engines once again roared, churning up the sea as they backed away from the blockade.
