Chapter 44
The engines howled as the bow of the sheriff's Defender-class patrol boat carved through the sapphire swells.
The sun glimmered the water. The briny air filled my nostrils.
I was still reveling in the joy of being topside.
Everything took on a more beautiful appearance.
Every view a painting. It was like handing a starving man a gourmet meal.
I had called Paisley’s cell phone, but didn't get a reply. I didn't expect one. I sent another text message to the kidnappers via the encrypted app, but I still hadn't received a message back.
Dread twisted my stomach.
They had probably abducted her in Miami. I’m sure she got bored and left the boat.
Perhaps they had already retrieved the case. But that seemed impossible. I knew we weren't followed out to the island. I was sure no one had seen us bury the case on Emerald Cay.
The sun angled toward the horizon as we reached the island. It painted the sky in multiple shades of pink and orange.
Daniels pulled the aluminum boat into the bay and ran aground in the shallows. We dropped anchor, then hopped out in the surf and trudged up the beach to the tree line.
We had grabbed shovels, water, and snacks from the station before we left. JD and I led the sheriff through the underbrush to the clearing.
The mosquitoes weren’t bad yet. They would be around dusk.
The high grass swayed with the breeze, and I led us across the field to the tree that had been split by lightning.
My stomach knotted.
The ground where I had buried the case had been disturbed. JD and I had covered it up well and blended it in. This looked fresh.
JD and I stabbed shovels into the ground and dug out loose scoops of dirt, digging down to where we had left the case. But it was gone.
I may have grumbled a few obscenities. Maybe more than a few.
With a tight jaw and a frustrated exhale, the sheriff said, "You two smooth-brained idiots sure picked a good hiding place.”
Anger and confusion tensed my face. "There's no way anybody followed us out here. I wrapped it in a Faraday cage. It couldn't have been tracked.”
“You don’t know it wasn’t tracked.”
“If it could have been tracked, why would they call and demand it as a ransom. This doesn't make any sense.”
"Are you sure this is where you buried it?" the sheriff asked.
"I'm positive."
"Even if they stole the briefcase, they’d have a hell of a time getting into it," I said. "They need Mercer's living fingerprint, which is going to be hard to come by."
“Maybe not so hard,” the sheriff replied.
My brow knitted with confusion. “What do you mean?”
"Somebody broke into the morgue and cut Mercer's hands off.”
My eyes rounded with surprise. "What!?"
“Savages."
"When did this happen?"
"Sometime between 3 and 5:00 AM this morning," the sheriff said.
"Why didn’t you say something earlier?"
He glared at me. "Because I've been pretty busy, putting out all kinds of fires today. Anytime you want to step up and do my job, you let me know. I'll be happy to go fishing."
After a few moments of wallowing in our own defeat, we headed back across the field. We made our way through the underbrush to the beach. JD and the sheriff climbed aboard the patrol boat. Jack weighed anchor, and I pushed the vessel back into the surf, then pulled myself over the gunwale.
The sheriff took the helm and fired up the engines. We were about to head back to Coconut Key when another boat approached.
"Hold up," I said. "Let's see what this is about.”
I moved from the wheelhouse to get a better look. With my hand on the grip of my pistol, I was ready for anything. After everything I'd been through, I was a little on edge.