Chapter 42
Blake had called Roger and asked for help and his neighbor showed up with his airboat behind his truck. The locator app showed
still alive. And that her phone stayed connected.
The sounds of birds and insects echoed from the cypress and tupelo trees as they navigated a tributary past blue herons and
cranes. An Alabama red-bellied turtle snoozed in the sun on a rock as they passed, and frogs croaked from the seagrass as
it brushed the sides of the boat. Blake moved restlessly, frustrated by the snail’s pace at which they slid through the turgid
water. The odor of mud and decaying vegetation mingled with that of salt and sulphur.
He waved away the gnats and mosquitoes buzzing around his head and studied the map on his phone. So many branches of waterways
and creeks. Which way had they gone to get where the dot moved slowly along? The myriad possible paths were daunting.
They came to the end of the tributary with no clear path forward. Roger killed the fan. “We’re at the end of the road.”
“There was another creek that branched off about a quarter of a mile back. Let’s try that one.” He waited for Roger to start the motor again, but the boat drifted sluggishly in the muddy water. When he turned around to face Roger again, he found his neighbor studying him with hard gray eyes.
Blake’s gaze dropped to the gun in Roger’s hand and froze. “You see a gator?” Stupid question. The gun pointed unwaveringly
at Blake, not at something in the water.
“I’m sorry about this,” Roger said. “I’ve always liked you and appreciated having you as a neighbor, but I’m in a tight corner
without any other way out.” He gestured with the gun. “Drop your gun overboard. I don’t have a lot of time, so don’t make
me tell you twice. Hold it upside down with your thumb and forefinger.”
Blake saw Roger’s finger twitch on the trigger. His neighbor was a crack shot. Blake pulled his SIG Sauer from the leather
holster strapped to his waist. He slid toward the side of the boat with his hand extended and the gun dangling from it. Did
he have time to get his fingers around the butt of the gun and aim it? Eyeing his neighbor, he didn’t think so.
He let go of the gun and watched it splash into the black water. A gator, eyes just above the water, propelled itself in their
direction at the sound. Was that the plan—shoot him and toss him overboard?
“Who has Paradise?”
“Dean. I regret her death even more than yours. Sweet kid I’ve known most of her life. Sometimes you have to do hard things.”
“Is this about the rare earth elements? You don’t have to do this if you think we’re going to sell The Sanctuary. No amount
of money would make us let go of it.”
“I was sure your mom would refuse to sell, and when all the scare tactics didn’t work, I realized the deal was in jeopardy. Then Paradise discovered that Dean killed Mary, and I knew I had to make a move.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Blake searched for a possible weapon. A red-and-white cooler held water and food Roger had brought.
A black thermos rolling next to the hull on Blake’s left would do if he could get to it in time. Roger would probably shoot
the second he reached for it, but he could wait for a diversion or the right moment.
If he could keep Roger talking, maybe Blake could get him to reconsider, but every second that ticked by meant Paradise was
out there somewhere facing Dean on her own. He didn’t have much time to subdue Roger and try to find her.
He focused his gaze on something over Roger’s shoulder and forced a smile. “I don’t think what you want will matter much in
a minute.”
Roger wheeled his body in the direction of Blake’s gaze, and Blake snatched up the thermos and threw it with all his might
at Roger’s head. It connected and Roger fell off his perch on the airboat’s elevated seat.
Blake leaped onto the older man and grabbed his wrist holding the gun and slammed it back against the metal boat hull.
The gun flipped out of Roger’s hand and slid to land three feet away. Blake let go of Roger and crawled toward the gun. He
nearly had it in his hand when Roger grabbed his ankle and tried to haul him back.
Blake kicked out and his foot connected with Roger’s chest. Roger let go of Blake’s foot, and Blake lunged forward.
His fingers closed around the butt of the gun and he stood and turned toward Roger. “Stop!” His finger switched off the safety.
“I won’t hesitate to shoot you, Roger.” He gestured with the gun. “Hands in the air.”
Roger scowled but slowly raised his arms. “Let me go, Blake. I’ll leave the country.”
“You should have thought of that before you had Dean snatch Paradise.” She was out there somewhere and needed him.
The drifting boat bumped against the shore, and he gestured with the gun again. “Get out.”
Roger’s eyes filled with hope until he surveyed the area. “Get out here? It’s an island. I’ll be trapped.”
“That’s the general idea. If you force me to shoot you, I will. Out.”
Scowling, Roger swung his legs over the side of the boat and eased into the seagrass. Dark water stained his jeans up to his
knees and he waded onto drier ground. Clouds of gnats and mosquitoes billowed around him. It wouldn’t be pleasant waiting
until the police came to get him.
Blake started the engine and moved away from the island with his phone in front of him. The dot was no longer moving and he
had to find her. His inadequacy might result in her death. He groaned out a prayer for God to protect her, because all of
this was beyond his ability.
Had Blake realized she was gone yet? Paradise didn’t think Dean would wait much longer to make his move. Her senses sharpened
as she stared at the boat’s gray hull—the birds’ chatter increased, and something splashed in the water on the port side.
The hum of the insects intensified and she caught a whiff of wildflowers under the swamp’s stench. She felt her lungs inhale
and exhale as the boat swayed gently in the water.
Was this where her life ended? She wasn’t afraid, but her heart squeezed at the thought of Blake’s grief and how much her loss would affect him and the little boys. Jenna too. They’d all quickly become her true family.
It was do or die time. The tiny gun in her pocket was her only chance to spend more years with those she loved.
She infinitesimally lifted the left side of her body to give her a little more room on the right so she could get at her gun.
“Lots of gators out here. Cottonmouths and copperheads too. Do you know it well?”
“Me and Uncle Allen used to fish for largemouth bass and catfish here. I’d thought about disposing of him in our favorite
spot, but it needed to look like an accident.”
Only a sociopath would consider killing his own uncle in such a gruesome way. “How could you attack Mary? She loves you.”
“I had to stop her from calling Jane. With a crowbar.”
Paradise shuddered at his matter-of-fact monotone that held not an ounce of remorse. “She’s not dead. I’m sure she’s at the
hospital by now.”
“Guess I’d better tend to business and get out of town.”
If only Blake were here, he’d know what to do. But he’d taught her how to protect herself, and she had to gather the courage
to do it. “I’d like to get up. I’m cold and my arms hurt from being under me.”
“Probably a good idea to finish this. I have a date later and need to get back.” For the first time he sounded animated and
eager for the next few minutes to arrive.
She tensed as his hard hand grabbed her left shoulder and hauled her to her feet. In that same instant the ropes dropped to
the hull. She worked on yanking her gun out of her right pocket, but it was resisting her. She bent over and plowed her head
into his stomach.
An oof joined the chorus of frogs to their left, and she finally managed to pull her gun free from the pocket of her sweats.
Dean straightened and his gun came up. Paradise dove off to one side as he fired. She brought her gun up and took her firing
stance as best as she could. “Drop it!”
“I should have frisked you.” The arm holding his gun steady never wavered, and he kept it trained on her chest. “I bet I can
shoot you before you shoot me. You can’t quite bring yourself to shoot a man, can you? You’re a healer, not a killer.”
“And you’re not a man—you’re a monster. I’ll have no problem putting you down.” But despite her brave words, she wasn’t sure
he was wrong. She didn’t want to pull the trigger, but she would have to. He wasn’t letting her go without a fight.
A whooshing sound rose above the noise of the swamp. Another airboat coming this way? She smiled with more confidence than
she felt. “Sounds like help is on the way. You’re going to jail, Dean.”
His mouth curled in a sneer, but his eyes filled with fear. “It’s half a mile away. Nothing is going to save you.”
Determination glowed on his face, and she made her decision in that instant. Her finger tightened on the trigger, and the
gun’s slight recoil confirmed she’d shot it. Dean reeled back, red blooming from his chest near his left arm. His gun clattered
to the metal hull, and his right arm came up to clutch his wound.
His eyes widened, and the glee went out of them. He pitched over the side into the murky water.
Paradise rushed to the side and reached for his hand, but he was gone.
She sank to her knees and buried her face against her legs. Tears burned in her eyes and throat. She’d never killed someone
before. And she never wanted to be put in such a position again.
The boat rocked, and she lifted her head. One wet, muddy hand clamped onto the port side of the boat, followed by another one. Dean was hoisting himself out of the water.
She stumbled to her feet and rushed to help him aboard. His face twisted in a snarl, he waved her away. Before she could take
his hands, his eyes went blank and he fell back into the water. His body floated atop the water for several seconds before
it sank again.
The noise of the airboat intensified, and she turned to face the craft that came her way. She blinked. Was that Blake on the navigator’s seat? How had he found her?
Incredulous joy filled his face when he spotted her. “Paradise?”
As he neared her boat, tears glittered in his eyes. He tossed her a rope and she tied their boats together. The engine on
his boat cut off, and he jumped onto her boat.
He took her in his arms and her embrace circled his waist. “You’re alive.” He kissed her with a desperation that matched her
own.