The Water Keeper(96)

I walked to the bulkhead, set Gunner on the back bench of Gone Fiction, wrapped him in a blanket, and was in the process of cranking the engine when Summer grabbed my arm and wrapped a blanket around me. Her face told me she was not open for conversation. “Don’t even think about telling me to stay here.”

I loosed the anchor line, threw the throttle forward, and a minute later we were gliding back toward Key West at fifty-eight miles an hour. When I’d trimmed the engine and tabs, I dialed Bones on the sat phone. “Bones, Angel wasn’t on the yacht.” Silence followed. I thought back through the last few hours. I said, “When he left Key West and circled the Marquesas, did he stop?”

A few seconds passed. “Briefly. Two minutes maybe. Nothing more.”

“Long enough for someone to get off or on?”

“Yes.”

“Could you see a home or outbuildings on the island?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get me back there?”

“Yeah, but why?”

“’Cause he’s gone.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is. I saw him leave.”

“He may have left. But he’s back. I’m staring at him.”

He’d circled back around! “Where?”

“Loggerhead.”

Loggerhead Key is a forty-nine-acre key three miles due west of Dry Tortugas National Park. Its most noticeable feature is a 157-foot-tall lighthouse, which can be seen for twenty nautical miles. I glanced over my shoulder. The lantern rotated like a giant eye scanning the surface of the ocean.

I turned hard 180 degrees. The wind was picking up.

He prodded. “Is Summer with you?”

I gave him the ten-second version of the events.

“And you?”

“I’ll live.” I glanced at Gunner. “Find the best vet south of Miami. I need him waiting on me when I dock.”

“Done.”

“And, Bones?” I needed to tell him about Marie.

“Yeah, Bish—”

“Marie is alive.” Silence echoed as the words settled. When he didn’t respond, I said, “You hear me?”

His tone of voice changed. “I heard.”

The change betrayed him. I fought to understand. “You knew?”

A pause.

“Bones—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?”

“Bishop—”

“How long?”

He didn’t answer.

“Bones, how long?”

Regret in his voice. “She faked the video.”

“You’ve known for fourteen years? How?”

“The confessional.”

I was screaming now. “And you think that justifies it?”

His voice fell to a whisper. “Nothing justifies this.” He swallowed.

I hung up and let the wind dry my tears.





Chapter 48


I had grown stiff. My leg and my shoulder were screaming, not to mention one of my ribs. I was in a bad way. I drove straight at the light. Four minutes later, we circled the island. Loggerhead Key. The picture of the shopping list taped to the refrigerator returned to my mind’s eye. Loggerhead soup. Serves 11. When he left Pluto, the demon boat had gone in the direction of Key West. Making me think he was headed for the mainland. But he wasn’t. He’d made a giant circle.

The cigarette boat lay dark and sleek against the horizon, tied up at the long dock that served the lighthouse keeper’s house—right next to a sea plane floating on its two pontoons. I throttled down, killed the engine, and glided onto the beach just north of the lighthouse. My body begged me not to get off the boat.

I stared at the lighthouse and knew I needed weapons, but I’d lost my AR, and my Sig was empty, as was the Benelli. That left the crossbow. I stepped into the sand, grabbed my crossbow from the forward hatch, cocked it, and slid an arrow onto the rest. If I was lucky I’d get one shot with this, and then things would turn ugly. The only good news was that it was quiet, and whoever I hit with it wouldn’t know my location. But once empty, it would serve little purpose other than to beat somebody off me.

Summer was climbing out when I stopped her. “No. And don’t argue with me. If I’m not back in five minutes, head east.” I handed her the sat phone. “Bones will get you home.”

She swung a leg over. “I’m not about to—”

I put my hand on hers. “Summer, this is not a dance.” I held up my hand. “Five minutes.”

She extended hers and pressed her fingertips to mine. I nodded and crept across the beach.

The lighthouse scanned the sea above me while solar LEDs lit the dock and sidewalk that led from the water’s edge to the lighthouse and surrounding buildings. I heard screaming coming from somewhere near the lighthouse. The dunes were low, which didn’t grant me much cover, so I knelt and watched as a man tried to drag a body out of the base of the lighthouse. The voice suggested the body belonged to a female. She was kicking and screaming. Wildly.

Having trouble holding on, he let her go. Momentarily, bending double at the waist, giving me a split second to make a decision and send the bolt. I did. The arrow entered his right buttock and exited out his groin. I know this because I heard the scream. It was higher pitched than hers.