“So, you went to the military. Was there a reason other than nowhere else to go?”

  “Not really.” She pulled at fibers on her pant legs.

  “Well, I’ve heard some pretty interesting stories from Greg about your time there.”

  “Oh, really? I haven’t heard him say anything. But I guess he wouldn’t in front of me.”

  “Yeah, I guess not.” Quinn wished he hadn’t brought it up. “Anything else you wanted to be?” He prayed there was.

  “I don’t really know. I think I had plans, ideas, hopes. But they all kind of went out the window. I went to the military and acquired food, money, shelter. Then when I got out, I was a nurse for a while. Then I went to the academy. It all kind of seemed like a natural progression of things. And now, well now. I don’t know. I’ve seen my father and lost him more times than I can count. My mother may be out there, but I don’t know. I just feel… lost.”

  Quinn paused the footage and faced her. “What you need is a night out with friends.”

  “Friends? What are those? All I do is work and then more work. When I get home, I’m so bored but I have nothing to do. I have no plants, no animals, no one to talk to.” She palmed her face. “I have nothing.”

  Her voice was low, but he’d heard her perfectly.

  “Let me tell you what. Tomorrow night we’re going out. We’re going back to that jazz club. This time Tristan is going to play with you.”

  “So, I can help him get a job?”

  “Yes, and so you can be the singer you want to be and I’m going to bring Fanny. And you and your friends are going to have a night out on the town. What do you say?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “Good. I’ll text Maggie and Fanny in a bit. Right now, we have a video to get back to watching.”

  As soon as the tape ran, the door opened. The camera had been adjusted or the angle had changed, or something had happened. Because on the screen as plain as day was someone they both knew.

  “Andre Rubert.” Ericka said it first and it wasn’t a happy sound.

  Chapter Ten

  Maria followed Paulo onto the small yacht-like vessel. It had a below cabin for sleeping and the bridge on the top for navigating. And there was a small deck to walk around on. The motor also seemed capable of taking them where they needed to go.

  “This will do.” Paulo leaned down below the wheel and opened up a panel. He appeared to be hotwiring the boat. While he was busy, Maria went out of the bridge and looked around. On the floating dock that led to the boat two people were looking back and forth as if searching for someone.

  The man lifted his head. Maria got a good look at his face. She swallowed. Something about this man was extremely familiar.

  He lifted his head. He noticed her. He stopped. The woman behind him slammed into his back and the dock began to rock. Maria hurried back to Paulo.

  “We need to go.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “We need to go now. I’ve been spotted.” She didn’t add that she was sure they knew who she was.

  Most people thought her dead. She’d kept it that way for years. She’d taken over Josef’s operation since his death, but even before he wasn’t aware of her whereabouts. Now she was about to be caught. Right when she was near the end!

  She wouldn’t let it happen.

  The motor fired up. He stood and put the engine in reverse to back it out.

  “Is the boat still hooked to the dock?”

  Paulo shrugged.

  Maria groaned as she ran off the bridge and to the side of the boat. It was, indeed, still tethered. Quickly she unwrapped the rope. The couple were headed straight for her.

  She unhooked the rope and jumped back onto the boat as Paulo continued to drift backward. Soon they would be in open water where he could put the motor on full blast, and they could jet out of there. They had the manifest. They were the only people who knew where the White Lily would be and when. Once they had found the ship and the captain, then Maria would get her another boat. After she got the boat she would make one more run and then she would have the money to retire to her island.

  “Morgan!”

  The unfamiliar name had her turning her head. The man on the shifting dock waved his arms frantically. He wanted her to stop, that was clear, but why was he yelling the wrong name?

  “I found Ericka!”

  The stabbing pain to her heart, the piercing ringing in her ears, brought her to her knees. That was a good thing. The boat lurched forward with increasing speed and threw her backward on the deck. She grabbed a railing and held on before she was flung off into the water.

  Time passed before Paulo slowed the vessel and the forces against her eased. She pulled herself to her feet and made her way to the bridge. Paulo smiled and whistled as if he was extremely happy with himself.

  “We made it.”

  “We did.”

  “Now to Fishers Island.”

  “And West Harbor.”

  Maria said the words, but her earlier enthusiasm had greatly diminished.

  Maria settled on the deck of the ship. She crossed her legs and allowed the spray of water to strike her face. She closed her eyes and rocked with the boat.

  Ericka.

  Morgan.

  Why did those names sound familiar?

  “Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

  “Ericka, quieter honey.” She looked back and forth and held her breath. When she didn’t see Harry, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Ericka danced around the room lifting her skirt by two fingers on each side and spinning in circles. Penny had bought her the dress and Ericka loved it. She’d danced like a princess for hours.

  The door slammed against the wall. Morgan grabbed Ericka and pushed her behind her.

  The rough tug on her hair caused her to scream. The whack against the wall to her head made stars swirl before her eyes.

  Maria opened her eyelids. She wasn’t sure what she’d just seen. She’d not seen the lady in the vision, but she’d felt like it was her. Or maybe she was the child, Ericka. She didn’t remember that much of her childhood when she thought about it.

  After she secured her new vessel and a little more money then she might take time to explore her history, her past.

  Maybe.

  Not now though.

  Later.

  ****

  Paulo watched Captain Petrov as she sat trace like on the deck. She’d acted weird since they lost the Black Dahlia. He understood. It had been his ticket to freedom as well. Losing it made life harder.

  Rochelle’s securement had helped him. When he escaped to his own island or to a jungle, he would be safe. He’d never have to worry about going to jail or back to the hospital. He’d never been caught. It was extremely satisfying. He could continue his hobby without fear.

  The boat bumped like a speed boat along the water as he sped up. Time. Time was of the essence. The manifest listed the time as tomorrow morning. They needed to be on Fishers Island and in position. He was almost certain the captain wouldn’t go for it. He’d rode over with the captain to meet with Maria. She hadn’t taken kindly to his extracurricular activities then and she wouldn’t like them anymore now. He’d cost her a bit of money.

  Maria opened her eyes. She peered out over the water. Moments passed before she rose and joined him at the wheel.

  “How much longer?”

  He gave a time estimate.

  She nodded.

  He followed the coastline. It was the easiest way to navigate. They would technically be off the coast of Connecticut, but the area was still considered New York. He found it confusing, but he wouldn’t argue.

  Hours passed. The sun was dipping on the horizon when they landed at West Harbor. Only around fifty people lived on the island at most times but during the summer the population boomed to several thousand. People rented out the houses for vacation. As he had. Using his new identity to secure the rental still left him worried.

  What if an alert went out on the stolen vessel? They might be waiting for them when they arrived.

  Paulo drew in a deep breath as he parked next to a floating dock. The rental house sign was evident. He’d called ahead and secured the place. They needed a place to wait on the White Lily. One look around told him that the large luxury liner would be unable to park at the island. That would mean they would be forced to join up on the open water.

  Unexpectedly…

  The captain of the White Lily wouldn’t like that. And there was no way, that he knew of, to communicate with the vessel.

  The motor cut, Paulo assisted Maria out of the boat.

  “Nice place.” She stood sure-footed on the wobbly dock and looked around.

  “I do what I can.” The praise felt good.

  They walked to the house, her in front and him following. He grabbed the key from under a potted plant as the agent had instructed him. He opened the door. Maria went straight for the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

  “Stocked.”

  “I asked for that.” He was proud of himself. And happy she was pleased. “Shall we find some dinner and maybe eat it on the patio?” He’d insisted the place have a view. They would need it. He just hoped they were on the correct side of the island. Otherwise, they might miss their chance to catch the White Lily.

  “Sounds good. What would you like?”

  The realtor had left some complete meals already cooked and ready for the oven or the microwave. He pulled meatloaf and mashed potatoes from the fridge and heated them in the microwave.

  “Maybe we don’t need the White Lily and we could retire here. This is a nice place.” Maria popped a cracker into her mouth that she’d snagged from a box in the pantry.

  “True. But I have other reasons for escaping.”

  “Is it all those women you killed?”

  Paulo had pulled out his meal and taken one bite. This bite he let hover in the air. “You knew about that?”

  “Of course. Regina told me.”

  “She did?”

  “Do you think that she would let a murderer on my ship without telling me?”

  “I wondered.” He didn’t like the idea that Maria knew about his past. He preferred thinking that she was untainted by his indiscretions.

  She patted his hand that rested on the counter. “We’ve all done things in our pasts. All I care about now is that we get a new ship and finish our route. Nothing else matters.”

  She turned away to the fridge and prepared herself a plate then popped it into the microwave. He wasn’t sure if what she said was true. Now that she knew, he wanted her gone more than ever.

  But he would wait.

  He was good at two things.

  Waiting and making people vanish…

  Chapter Eleven

  Ericka and Quinn worked late at Rochelle’s. Quinn finally told her to go home and that he would finish or come back the next day. Ericka had been fine with that. Her eyelids had become heavy several times and she’d fallen asleep.

  Quinn had noticed.

  The alarm beside her head rang again. The snooze of nine minutes hadn’t been enough.

  Slowly, she rolled onto her side and sat on the edge of the bed. Arms over her head, she stretched from one side to the other. She put her hands on the side of the bed and let her shoulders slump.

  She slid down to the floor and lay down. First, she lengthened her legs and stretched them as far as she could then she added her arms in the opposite direction. Bud or Eliott’s bed had been alongside hers but not now, now she was alone again.

  Hands behind her head she began her morning routine. Crunches.

  “One… two… three… four.”

  At thirty she lifted her legs straight up in the air and crunched to thirty once more. Next froggy position with the legs and thirty more crunches. At the end she drew in a deep breath and flipped over for thirty push-ups followed by thirty mountain climbers. She ended with fifteen burpees. By the time she finished, her stomach burned and her legs hurt. Sweat pooled over her upper chest. She really needed a shower. She had no time for a run today so this would have to do.

  She shouldn’t have left Quinn with the videos yesterday, but she was pooped. After running after her father more than likely being drugged and brought back home, then rushing to the office and being thrown directly into another investigation, she’d been too tired to keep going.

  Clothes laid out on the bed; she took her time walking to the bathroom. Under the spray, she ran her hands through her hair over and over with the shampoo. Thick foam fell at her feet. Her mind wandered and she lost count of the times she lathered.

  Tears coursed down her cheeks. She cried.

  Cried hard.

  She wasn’t even sure why.

  Maybe because of all she’d lost. All the years without her parents. The trust in adults.

  Or maybe it was all the loss that she’d witnessed over the years.

  She laid her head against the warm stall and waited there until the water ran cold.

  Cool water graced her chest, and she quickly finished her shower and turned off the faucet. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her chilled body. Wet strands of hair clung to her face and back.

  In front of the mirror, she moved a strand behind her ear. Her eyes were red and puffy.

  Greg would drive her to work. He would notice her face. The crying.

  She attempted to rub away the evidence, but she was sure it hadn’t worked.

  Once dressed she tried again.

  Settled on the bed, she pulled on her slacks right leg first. She stood to button them. She pulled the silk cami over her head before putting on her blazer. Today she pulled her hair back tightly into a bun.

  She felt ready for war.

  Or ready for battle at least.

  An alarm on her phone warned her it was almost time to leave. She hurried to the kitchen and popped in a coffee pod. While the one cup ran through, she heated a premade sausage biscuit. The clock on the wall ticked loudly with each second that passed. She finished her coffee and there still wasn’t a knock on her door.

  She walked to the front door and lifted the curtain. Gerg’s car wasn’t there.

  She lifted her phone to her ear, never taking her eye off the empty driveway. Maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe all the tears had affected her vision.

  “Hello?”

  “Tito, are you at the office?”

  “On my way now. What’s up?”

  “I seemed to have lost my ride for the day. Do you think—”

  “Sure. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. We can talk about the jazz club. I’ve never been and have no idea what to wear.”

  Tito was going to the jazz club?

  Wait, he was worried about his wardrobe.

  Why did these two things cause butterflies in her stomach?

  “Ericka? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize Quinn was inviting people.”

  He’d said it would be a night out with friends. She’d be helping Tristan and be able to forget about her problems for a while. Now she was going to have to entertain the entire office.

  “Are you okay with me going?”

  “Oh, yeah, sure. No worries.” Lots of worries. Lots of worries.

  “Not to panic you but he may have invited most of the people in the office.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed.

  “Honestly, I think it was Maggie’s idea when he told her.”

  “She wants everyone to hear Tristan play.”

  “So I heard.”

  Tito pulled in front of her house. “I’m here.”

  “I see you. I’m coming.” She hung up the call before grabbing her purse and keys. She locked her door as she stepped out. After bounding down the few steps, she reached his car. She entered the passenger side door and slid onto the seat.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He backed out on the street. They had a decent drive ahead. Conversation was needed, but she was still thinking about their phone conversation.

  “Now about what I should wear…”

  ****

  Greg rubbed his dry, red eyes.

  “Boss, you can go take a nap. This is going to take a while.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Your eyes are hurting me.”

  The door opened. Maggie entered with several tall cups of coffee. The aroma made his mouth water. He grabbed a cup from the caddy before she even set it on the desk.

  “Whoa, haus, slow down.”

  “Can’t or I might fall asleep standing up.” He took a drink of the dark, bitter brew.

  “You didn’t go home at all?”

  “Not all night.” Quinn grabbed one of the cups without turning his gaze from the monitor.

  “Find anything?”

  “Found lots of things.” Quinn sipped at the hot liquid.

  Greg didn’t have that much patience. He was going to have blisters after this morning.

  Maggie sipped her coffee. Only one was left in the caddy. She twisted her head. “Where is Ericka?”

  Greg would have said that was the twenty-dollar question, then he remembered. He was her ride! His hand trembled and he almost spilled his coffee, but he managed to grab it in time. A tiny drop of hot liquid seared his hand. The reddening mark would fade, while other things wouldn’t.

  Quinn pointed over his shoulder. “Greg forgot her.”

  “You what?”

  “Well, I didn’t go home, remember? I was here looking through lists of people who sell passports off the books.”

  “So, you forgot because you were tired, or you weren’t there to get her?”

  “Both.”

  Quinn said it with Greg. He appreciated the support.

  The door opened and Greg turned.

  “Thanks again.” Ericka spoke to someone outside in the hallway. When she closed the door, she faced them with a smile on her lips. It quickly morphed into something else. Not quite a frown, but the happiness from before was diminished.

  She grabbed the last coffee. Maybe to hide her anger over being left. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t really blame her.