Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
The two boats bobbed in the dark water, engines cut, waiting for a call that still hadn’t come.
Jaz stared up at the dark sky, millions and millions of stars that the sliver of the moon didn’t extinguish. Vast, like the ocean below.
Please, God. You know where she is. Just lead us. Shine a spotlight on her. Help us find her.
Together, the men had come up with a strategy for when they reached Kenzie. It would work as long as it was still dark. If they didn’t catch up to her until daylight…
They’d find her tonight. They had to.
After they’d devised their plan, Martinez, Auggie, Splat, and Duck had shared stories about their missions, comparing notes. Making jokes.
But the talk had petered out. Now everyone was quiet, the world silent except for the occasional splash of a fish or a wave against one of the hulls.
Wright sat on the bench across from Jaz, his movements heavy, as if gravity were winning a war, or maybe Wright had lost his energy to fight. His hands clutched his phone. His head was bowed. He hadn’t looked up in a long time. Praying, Jaz assumed.
Jaz had been doing the same—a constant stream of silent pleas since they’d left the marina.
He wanted to believe God was listening. He hadn’t been sure about that for years, but in the last few days, his faith had returned.
Now, it felt like a fragile thing, a soap bubble. The slightest touch would ruin it.
Kenzie believed, though. Kenzie trusted God, and Jaz would do the same. He’d try to, anyway.
Wright’s phone rang.
The sound echoed over the waves. Jaz straightened, and he wasn’t the only one, all staring at the phone, the hope it might represent.
Wright lifted it to his ear. “This is Wright.” His voice was controlled, but Jaz could see the tension in his shoulders, the white-knuckled grip on the cell.
And then, something shifted in his expression. He met Jaz’s eyes, and Jaz felt something thrum inside, a low-level hum that might be hope.
“Hold on.” Wright pressed the speaker icon. “Repeat that.”
A male voice came through. “I’m a fisherman. Picked up a radio transmission, a woman. She said she’s being held against her will on a yacht called Le Pari.”
Magras’s yacht. Jaz had gotten that right, not that his guess had helped.
“She gave me this number,” the man said. “Told me—”
“Her coordinates?” Wright cut in.
“Don’t know for sure, but she’d be no more than three miles from where I am.” He relayed his own position.
“South about twenty-five nautical miles,” Duck said.
“What do you want me to do?” the man on the phone asked.
“Can you find it?” Wright asked.
“I can try to narrow down the location based on signal strength and direction. It’s rough, but it’s something. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have more.”
“Wait. You need a number you can reach us at.”
Splat moved close and rattled off a string of digits that would reach the satellite phone.
The man repeated them.
“Call that number if you learn anything. Anything at all.”
“Understood. I’ll do my best.”
The line went dead.
Splat was already on his phone, talking fast. “We need a drone in the air. South, within a couple of miles of…”
Duck relayed the man’s coordinates, his voice clipped and efficient.
“Good. Let us know. We’re moving now.”
Duck didn’t wait for orders. He started the engine and gunned it. Martinez did the same, the twin roars shattering the stillness.
The bow lifted as they accelerated, spray flying, wind slicing past Jaz’s wetsuit.
He stood and stared into the distance.
Wright hadn’t moved. His face was stone, but his eyes—his eyes burned with something fierce and terrible.
“We’ll find her,” Jaz shouted. He had to believe it.
Wright looked at him. “Yes, we will. And when we do, God help them.”
God, help us. Jaz didn’t care one whit about Henry, Magras, or anyone else who’d kidnapped Kenzie. He just wanted her back.
Behind them, Martinez’s boat kept pace, a dark shape against darker water. Ahead, the horizon stretched.
But somewhere out there was Magras’s yacht. It was moving fast, but Duck and Martinez were moving faster.
Jaz gripped the rail and let the speed push everything else away. The fear, the uncertainty, the crushing weight of everything that had gone wrong.
They had a direction now. A chance.
He’d asked God to shine a spotlight on Kenzie, and now they had coordinates.
Thank You. Now, help us see it through.