“Paradise isn’t here?”
“She got her settled and left. I don’t know where she went.”
“What time did she leave?”
“Before lunch.”
Blake had expected her back by now, but maybe Mary was spilling everything she knew. “Thanks, I’ll give her a call.” He stepped outside the building and pulled out his phone. No one picked up on the other end, and he left a message. “Hey, babe, give me a call when you get a chance.”
It was nearly dinnertime, so she’d been gone at least six hours. The first glimmer of concern came. He pulled up the tracker app and found her still at Mary’s. Even if Mary was telling hereverything, would it take this long? His jaw tight, he ran for his truck.
On the way out to the peninsula, he tried to call Paradise several more times but got only voice mail. With every failure to reach her, his anxiety increased.Don’t assume anything is wrong.But his self-talk failed to reassure him. She always picked up, and she’d been out of touch with anyone for hours. It wasn’t like her.
He turned off Highway 59 onto 180 and called his mom. “Hey, have you talked to Paradise today at all?”
“No, I haven’t. I tried to call her twice but got voice mail. Is something wrong?”
“I hope not, but she’s been out of touch for over six hours. She went to see Mary, and I’m on my way there now.”
“Keep me posted.”
He ended the call and increased his speed as fast as he dared. He passed the Kiva Dunes Golf Course and set his sights on Beach Estates, a few miles ahead on the left. It wasn’t far now, but his sense of urgency escalated instead of dissipating. He tried her number one more time but still got routed to voice mail. He turned on Vacation Lane and spotted the house in the distance.
Squinting, he made out Paradise’s green Soul parked by the back deck. The heavy weight should’ve lifted off his chest, so why did he feel worse instead of better?
He made the final turn and parked beside Paradise’s car. His truck door was partially open by the time he turned off the key. He leaped out and ran up the steps to the door, then thumped his fist on it. “Paradise,” he called.
When there was no answer, he tried the door and it opened. The house felt empty when he stepped into the living room still calling her name. There was no hint of her scent. The cat streaked past his feet and ran to hide under the sofa. He walked throughthe house and found no one. Retracing his steps, he went outside to Paradise’s car. Her purse was inside, but her phone wasn’t in it.
He got back out and went to the storage space under the house’s pilings. What he took for a jumble of clothing became clearer. Someone was lying on the concrete.
He rushed to the figure and discovered Mary prone on her stomach with her face turned to one side. Blood pooled under her head. He checked her pulse and found nothing.
He pulled out his phone and reported it to 911. The dispatcher wanted him to stay on the line, but Blake told her he needed to find his girlfriend, who appeared to be missing.
He checked the locator app again and found Paradise’s position had moved to somewhere offshore. It appeared to be heading west across Mobile Bay. Someone had taken her.
A loud whine penetrated the blackness. Paradise tried to move and found her hands tied together. The pounding in her head pulsated with another sound, an odd whooshing that amplified the pain. Other sensations began to penetrate—hard boards beneath her, the cries of seabirds, and the rhythmic lapping of water.
When she slitted her eyes, blue then green and gray flashed past her vision. Leaves interspersed with Spanish moss alternated with blue sky. A rotten egg odor mingled with salty air.
Swamp. I’m in an airboat navigating a swamp.
Angling her head, she found she was lying face down in the middle of the hull with her arms tucked under her body. Through slitted lids she saw water pooled in the hull and along one side ofthe craft. Someone coughed a few feet from her head, so he had to be on the elevated seat navigating. He’d be able to stare down at her, so she couldn’t let him know she was awake.
She concentrated on managing her breathing and keeping her eyes closed for now until she figured out what to do. Infinitesimally she tested her limbs and found no pain. She felt the hard outline of her gun in her right pocket and her phone in the other, but she had to be free to use either one. And how could she manage that, knowing her captor could see her every move?
Little by little she tested the ropes at her wrists, trying to see if they would loosen. They didn’t stretch, but she twisted her hands and tried to release one of them. The rope around her left hand felt slightly looser than the right, so she concentrated on pulling that one free in tiny movements.
The boat engine throttled back and the sound of the wind through the turbine lessened. It was dimmer now, cooler with patterned shadows on the hull that she could see through her barely cracked lids. Did he plan to throw her overboard to the gators? If so, she had to be ready to act. She kept her eyes closed when the engine stopped and someone shuffled alongside her toward the boat’s bow.
It was hard to hear past the roaring of her pulse in her ears, and she prayed for strength and favor. She twisted her left wrist again and felt the rope slip, then loosen. Holding her breath, she maneuvered it and tried to slide her hand out of the loop. The left hand was free! She inched her right hand along the damp hull of the boat toward her pocket until it couldn’t go any farther without her elbow’s movement attracting attention. She’d wait for the right moment.
The tip of a shoe or boot nudged her. “I know you’re awake.”
Her labored breathing had given her away, and she knew thatvoice—Dean Steerforth. Since it was useless to pretend she was still unconscious, she turned her head to face his foot. “Killing me will add to your time in prison. You already killed your aunt, but if you kill me, too, you’ll face the death penalty.”
He swore and kicked her with the hard toe of his boot. “Why’d you have to get involved? It was working great. Who knows about the will? I didn’t want to kill Aunt Mary, but she wouldn’t listen.”
