Philip Phelps narrowed his eyes at Mathilda, measuring her determination. She must have convinced him, because he finally turned to Rory and said, “Very well. I believe Lincoln Kerr might be in real danger. I happened to overhear something about needing a stand-in for Lincoln in case he doesn’t survive. Apparently you’re the backup. You look enough like him so they can call on you in case things go awry, or in case Lincoln doesn’t cooperate.”
Good lord, was he going to have to pretend to be Lincoln again? “Cooperate with what?” Rory demanded.
“They didn’t explain it to me. All I picked up was that Lincoln has gone a bit rogue and certain individuals want him back under control. A word to the wise, dear boy. This could be an opportunity for you. If you play your cards right, and negotiate on your own behalf, you could walk away with quite the fortune yourself. I’d offer to represent you, but I’ll be far away by then.”
He checked his watch again, and beckoned to Mathilda. “Time to go, my dear.”
She shot a pleading glance at Rory. It took all his willpower to give her an encouraging smile instead of snatching her into his arms. “We’ll see each other again,” he whispered to her.
“Will we?”
A moment later, she was gone, leaving those plaintive words hanging in the air. Would they see each other again?
The pit in his stomach told him maybe not.
A few moments later, he heard the sound of another engine. He dashed to the porthole to get a look. Another motor yacht was racing across the waves toward them. It came to a stop in a rooster tail of water, just out of his line of sight. Through the thick glass of the porthole, he heard faint voices shouting across the water. Then the new boat wheeled away and zoomed to the west. Headed to another Hawaiian island? Or to Hilo? Kona?
Despair pooled in his gut. Would he ever see Mathilda again? And maybe even more importantly, would she ever be happy again? Would she ever be that free spirit roaming the jungle looking for Hector? Or was her life about to take a dramatic turn in an entirely different direction?
He limped back to the bunk and lay gingerly on his back. He might as well get some rest and let his body heal. Whatever he was about to face, he’d handle it better if he wasn’t so battered and bruised.
It clicked then, why they’d done so much damage to his face. He looked something like Lincoln, sure, but they weren’t that similar. But with a bunch of bruises and cuts, it would be harder to tell the difference between them.
Lincoln’s gone a bit rogue.
Did that explain their secret trip to Maui? And why he’d hidden that crystal in his med kit? And maybe even why his sister was suing him?
The door opened and someone was shoved through, the door slamming again behind him. Lincoln landed on his knees on the floor. His face was almost as bloodied as Rory’s.
Rory scrambled out of the bunk to help him. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” He sat against the wall and tilted his head back, heaving in big gasps of air. Gingerly, he touched his cheek. “Can you believe this is the first time anyone dared to beat up Lincoln Kerr?”
“I mean…yes, I believe that. But why did they? What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story, and I guess you deserve to hear it. But first, what the fuck happened to my med kit?”
Rory stared at him, his stomach twisting. He never should have moved it without telling Lincoln. “Why?”
“Why? Because you were supposed to keep it safe, but it’s empty and that’s why my face looks like this right now.” He pointed a finger at his swollen cheekbone.
Oh shit. Getting fired was about to be the least of his problems. He steeled himself. “If you’re talking about the crystal-like object that was in the med kit, I moved it. It seemed clear that it wouldn’t be safe in any of our pieces of luggage, no matter how hard they are to break into.”
Lincoln gave him a stare that would shatter rock. “You moved it? You got into my med kit?”
“Yes. I did that during your coma, when I was trying to figure out what was happening. Then after you got kidnapped, I thought the crystal might be the reason why. So while you were asleep, after we brought you back, I broke into your med kit again and relocated it. I’m sorry.”
After a pause that seemed to last an eternity, Lincoln broke into an enormous grin. “Thank God.”
“Uh…what?”
“Good job.” Lincoln beamed at him, marred only by the swelling of his upper lip. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
Rory, who’d been bracing for an angry explosion, dropped onto the bunk, limp with relief. “Sure will, but?—”
“Just hand it over. This is great. Excellent quick thinking. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
“I don’t…I don’t have it on me,” Rory said carefully. “But it’s in a safe place.”
