Flynn took the opportunity to get some free PR. “We faced some challenging circumstances, but we pulled together as a group and overcame.”
“Was Commander Weyland murdered by someone on the habitat?”
“How will that affect future missions?
“Will this program continue?”
Flynn smiled. “Those are all excellent questions, and I will leave it to someone more qualified than I to answer. But I can tell you this—I am honored to have been in the company of these fine men and women who persevered through tremendous adversity. And I’m excited to live to tell about it.”
He stepped out of frame and said, “I’m ready to get back to the boat and have a beer.”
I cringed. “The Avventura is in Miami.”
His face wrinkled. “What the hell is it doing there?”
“Hurricane.”
“Oh, yeah. Right. I guess I’ll get a room somewhere.” A grin tugged his mouth. “I’ll get us a cabana at the Seven Seas.”
I told him we’d be in touch, then JD and I hustled to the sheriff's patrol car. We hopped in with him and drove to the station.
Daniels grumbled, "You’re going to take me to that case right now.”
44
The engines howled as the bow of the sheriff's Defender-class patrol boat carved through the sapphire swells. The sun glimmered the water. The briny air filled my nostrils. I was still reveling in the joy of being topside. Everything took on a more beautiful appearance. Every view a painting. It was like handing a starving man a gourmet meal.
I had called Paisley’s cell phone, but didn't get a reply. I didn't expect one. I sent another text message to the kidnappers via the encrypted app, but I still hadn't received a message back.
Dread twisted my stomach.
They had probably abducted her in Miami. I’m sure she got bored and left the boat.
Perhaps they had already retrieved the case. But that seemed impossible. I knew we weren't followed out to the island. I was sure no one had seen us bury the case on Emerald Cay.
The sun angled toward the horizon as we reached the island. It painted the sky in multiple shades of pink and orange.
Daniels pulled the aluminum boat into the bay and ran aground in the shallows. We dropped anchor, then hopped out in the surf and trudged up the beach to the tree line.
We had grabbed shovels, water, and snacks from the station before we left. JD and I led the sheriff through the underbrush to the clearing.
The mosquitoes weren’t bad yet. They would be around dusk.
The high grass swayed with the breeze, and I led us across the field to the tree that had been split by lightning.
My stomach knotted.
The ground where I had buried the case had been disturbed. JD and I had covered it up well and blended it in. This looked fresh.
JD and I stabbed shovels into the ground and dug out loose scoops of dirt, digging down to where we had left the case. But it was gone.
I may have grumbled a few obscenities. Maybe more than a few.
With a tight jaw and a frustrated exhale, the sheriff said, "You two smooth-brained idiots sure picked a good hiding place.”
Anger and confusion tensed my face. "There's no way anybody followed us out here. I wrapped it in a Faraday cage. It couldn't have been tracked.”
“You don’t know it wasn’t tracked.”
