If You Must Know (Potomac Point #1)(102)

“You’re serious?” The color rose in his cheeks.

My bearing witness to the implosion of his plans had to kill him, so I stood there grinning like a kid with a bag of popcorn.

“Hell yes, I’m serious. I’m not a criminal!” she shrieked.

“Lower your goddamned voice, Ebba, before everyone knows our business.” His expression tightened as he punched the wood paneling of the door. “Fuck.”

I remained silent and still while he thought. He’d be going to jail. The only question now was whether I’d get that title before the agents came aboard.

He narrowed his gaze at me. “How do I know you won’t turn me in after you get what you want?”

I deflected by pulling a thumb drive out of my pocket. “Will it make you feel better if I give you the evidence?”

He snatched it from me. “Ebba, get the laptop to see if she’s bluffing.”

“I don’t care if she has a little or a lot of evidence. I didn’t sign up for this. If you want to sail on, you’re on your own. I’m going to pack my shit.” She turned on her heel and stormed into the main cabin.

With her gone, the air around me energized like a gathering storm. Lyle shot me a death stare. “Back off, Erin, or I’ll make your sister’s life a living hell.”

“You already did, asshole.” I focused so my voice wouldn’t quaver with rage.

“Walk away or I’ll assert my parental rights.”

That stopped me. The only thing that mattered more than vengeance and getting my mom’s money back was my niece.

His smile broadened. My poker face must’ve slipped.

Ebba reappeared, saving me from the lack of a ready comeback. She handed me a paper. “Here. Take the title.”

“Ebba!” Lyle reached for it, but she pushed at his chest.

“I’m saving you from yourself, Lyle. Let the boat go. We don’t need it. We’re amazing brokers, and there’s rebuilding happening everywhere in the Caribbean. We can work that to our advantage and then get a boat next year. We’ll live in the islands without being fugitives. Sign it or I’m gone.”

The wee bit of conscience hidden under all that hair surprised me. On second thought, it wasn’t a conscience. More like a CYA move. I mean, how many scruples did I honestly expect a mistress to have?

Lyle’s strangled expression made me smile. I scanned the title quickly, verifying the Somniator Partners name, then interrupted the stare-down between him and Ebba. “I need a signature to make this official. Let’s go to the marina offices and get a notary or whatever while your girlfriend packs your bags. I can recommend a decent hotel in San Juan.” I winked because it felt damn good to be this close to getting everything I needed.

Lyle turned on Ebba. “What the hell have you done?”

She raised her chin. “You lied to me about everything, so be thankful I’m willing to let you earn back my trust.”

“We were free—no ex-wife or kid, no strings. Going where we wanted, when we wanted.”

“I’m no saint, but I’m no thief, either. Fix this and maybe we still can move forward together.”

The moment begged for a mocking slow clap, but I wouldn’t antagonize him when Ebba was doing the heavy lifting for me.

He turned his back on both of us, scrubbing his hands over his face so hard I thought he might actually hurt himself. “‘Maybe’? Well, maybe I’ll take my chances on my own, then, ’cause it doesn’t sound like I’ve got much to lose at this point.”

“Are you saying your freedom and I aren’t worth anything?” Her affected pout suggested she would forgive him but would also use this incident to reset the power balance between them for a while. He let out a frustrated growl.

“I’ll pack our things.” She patted his chest, then turned to me. “Be sure to tell your sister that Lyle is willing to do the right thing for me.”

He grunted. If she weren’t the bitch who stole my sister’s husband, I might warn her about the many ways she’d pay for forcing his hand. I could already see the wheels turning and suspected Ebba and her family would end up his next victims if he weren’t about to be arrested.

“Move it,” he said to me.

We disembarked and headed toward the shore. Agent Reyes watched us from the restaurant. I hoped he and Jones had heard everything and would stand down until I got the document signed.

Ten minutes and some fees and taxes later, I was holding a freshly signed boat title made out to my mother in exchange for her forgiveness of the loan.

“Thank you.” I shook the dockmaster’s hand. “Can’t wait to go explore my new boat.”

Lyle closed his eyes, jaw clenched, color feverish. We exited the office and started back for the boat.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“You don’t think I’m dumb enough to leave you on that boat, do you? I’m seeing this through to the bitter end.”

“Suit yourself.” Lyle stalked off, staying a few steps ahead of me. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the agents were following us now, which they were, from a distance. When Lyle and I reached the yacht, we climbed aboard to find three large suitcases and two cardboard boxes of personal items already on the deck.

Lyle called, “Ebba?”