STORM
“Atrue friend does not ask whether the burden belongs to him. He simply takes hold of the other end.”
— James Sinclair
Both Ward and I listened from under the tarp.
“Thomas helped Grandpa hide the body?”
Nathan’s eyes found mine in the rearview mirror.
“Yes.”
Ward shifted beneath the tarp beside me.
“Where?”
Nathan tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Blackwater.”
The answer chilled me more than the rain.
“You said Grandpa tried to save Ross’s father.”
“He did.”
“Then why hide his body?”
“Because August Ross wasn’t alone when he killed him.”
“Who was with him?”
“Three men whose families controlled half the shipping routes between Hawaii and the mainland.”
Ward’s expression hardened.
“The same families involved with Mariner’s Crown?”
“Yes.”
“And Keawe Cannery?”
“Yes.”
I thought of the journal.
The old photographs.
The names Grandpa had hidden for decades.
“This was never one man.”
“No,” Nathan said. “Ross inherited an empire built on fear.”
Mom twisted in the passenger seat to look at him.
“What happened that night?”
“James received a call from Elias Ross.”
“August’s father?”
“Yes. Elias wanted out. He had records—payments, cargo manifests, names of officials who had helped them.”
“What were they moving?” Ward asked.
“Anything that made money. Stolen cargo. Weapons. People.”
My stomach turned.
Nathan continued.
“Elias asked James to meet him at Blackwater Cove. James took Thomas because he didn’t trust Ross.”
“But August followed his father,” Mom said.
“He followed him with three men. Elias tried to give the records to James. August shot him before he could.”
I stared toward the road disappearing behind us.
“And Grandpa saw it.”
“James and Thomas saw everything.”
“Why didn’t they go to the police?”
“They did.”
Nathan’s voice became bitter.
“The officer who met them at the station was one of the names in Elias’s records.”
Ward cursed quietly.
“What did the officer do?”
“He called August.”
Mom covered her mouth.
“Dad and Thomas barely escaped the station. When they returned to Blackwater, Elias’s body was still there.”
“So they hid him,” I said.
“They hid Elias and the records before August could recover either one.”
“Why not take the evidence somewhere else?”
“Every road out of the cove was being watched. James had minutes to decide.”
“Where did he put the records?”
Nathan looked toward the lighthouse rising in the distance.
“That’s what Ross has spent almost thirty years trying to discover.”
The lighthouse stood above the cliffs like a broken bone against the sky.
Its white paint had peeled away.
Half the lantern-room windows were shattered.
No beam swept across the water.
The light had been dead for years.
But as our truck rounded the final curve, a single flash came from the top.
Then darkness.
A second flash followed.
Ben slowed the truck.
“What was that?”
I pushed the tarp aside.
“Do it again.”
Ward pulled me back down.
“Stay covered.”
“That was Calle.”
“How do you know?”
“She always uses a flash when she wants someone to look in a particular direction.”
Another flash appeared.
Three quick bursts.
Then one.
Then two.
Ben stopped breathing.
“What does it mean?” he asked.
“Three men. First floor. Two upstairs.”
“Where is Calle?”
“She didn’t say.”
Ben stared toward the lighthouse.
His face had become frighteningly calm.
“She’s in the lantern room.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“The flash came from the top.”
“That could be one of Ross’s men,” Nathan said.
“It isn’t.”
He said it with absolute certainty.
No one questioned him.
Nathan turned off the headlights before we reached the lighthouse road.
He parked behind an abandoned maintenance building.
The timer beneath Blackwater had fallen below thirty minutes.
00:28:43.
00:28:42.
00:28:41.
Ward checked his weapon.
“We have three problems. Calle. Thomas. And the countdown.”
“Four,” Ben said.
Ward looked at him.
“Ross.”
Ben opened the truck door.
Ward caught the back of his jacket.
“You don’t go in alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Calle is at the top of that tower.”
“We don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Ward held his gaze.
Something unspoken passed between them again.
Finally, Ward released him.
“Then we reach her together.”
Mom touched Nathan’s arm.
“Thomas is my responsibility.”
“No.”
“He’s known me since I was eighteen.”
“He’s my friend.”
“He’s eighty-six and injured.”
“And you were kidnapped less than eight hours ago.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed.
Nathan sighed.
“We find him together.”
“That’s better.”
Ben had already crossed the road.
Mom watched him disappear behind the maintenance shed.
“He cares about Calle.”
I looked at her.
“How can you tell?”
Mom glanced at Nathan.
“Because I recognize a man who believes silence can protect his heart.”
Nathan suddenly became interested in loading his weapon.
Ward looked away.
Apparently, silence was contagious.
The Coast Guard convoy would approach from the south in seven minutes.
We didn’t have seven minutes.
Ross had watchers on the road.
If he saw the vehicles, he might kill Thomas.
He wouldn’t kill Calle.
Not while he needed all five of us.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt her.
Ward led us along the cliff.
Ben moved beside him.
Nathan stayed with Mom while I followed behind.
The ocean struck the rocks below.
Blackwater Cove lived up to its name.
The water wasn’t blue beneath the storm.
It was a dark, endless void.
Somewhere beneath it waited the second gate.
And the body of Elias Ross.
We reached the lighthouse wall.
The front entrance stood open.
Too open.
Ward examined the ground.
“Recent vehicle tracks.”
“Black SUV?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
Ben crouched near the steps.
A small silver object lay beside the lowest one.
He picked it up.
Calle’s camera battery.
Ivy said Calle had her camera.
“She left this for us,” I said.
Ben closed his fingers around it.
A second battery waited near the doorway.
Then a memory card.
Then the torn end of her camera strap.
A trail.
Ross had taken Calle through the front entrance, and she had dropped pieces of the one thing she had on her.
Ivy’s camera.
Ben placed the memory card in his pocket.
“I’ll give it back to her.”
Not if we find her.
When.
A voice drifted from inside.
“James should have told you the truth.”
Thomas.
Weak.
But alive.
Ross answered.
“James told me enough.”
“You never understood James.”
“I understood what he stole.”
“He saved your miserable life.”
“My father tried to betray me.”
“Your father tried to stop you.”
A blow landed.
Mom flinched.
Nathan moved toward the doorway.
Ward stopped him.
“Wait for the distraction.”
“That’s my friend in there.”
“And rushing inside gets him killed.”
Nathan looked ready to ignore him.
Mom caught his hand.
“Please.”
Nathan stayed.
Barely.
Ward signaled toward the rear of the lighthouse.
Ben disappeared around one side.
Nathan and Mom moved toward the other.
I remained with Ward near the front entrance.
He looked at me.
“You stay here.”
“You said we were done with that.”
“I said I wouldn’t leave you at the marina.”
“Convenient difference.”
“If something happens, run to the maintenance building and lock yourself inside.”
“And if Ross takes you?”
“He doesn’t need me.”
“I do.”
The words escaped.
Ward went still.
So did I.
Rain slid down his face.
“Storm.”
A thousand things waited inside my chest.
But this wasn’t the moment.
Calle and Thomas were inside.
The timer was running.
I stepped backward.
“Go.”
Ward hesitated.
Then entered the lighthouse.
I waited three seconds.
Then followed him.
I knew I was breaking my promise.
I also knew Ward had expected me to.
He moved along the left wall.
I stayed far enough behind that he wouldn’t see me without turning.
The circular room smelled of salt, rust, and damp stone.
An old iron staircase curved upward.
Thomas sat tied to a chair near the center.
Blood streaked one side of his face.
August Ross stood behind him.
Silver hair.
Dark eyes.
A pistol pressed to Thomas’s neck.
Two armed men guarded the stairs.
A third watched the rear entrance.
Ross smiled when Ward stepped into the room.
“Where is Storm Sinclair?”
“Safe.”
“She followed you.”
My heart stopped.
Ward didn’t turn.
“No, she didn’t.”
Ross laughed.
“James’s granddaughter would never wait outside while someone she loves was in danger.”
Thomas lifted his head.
His gaze found me in the shadows.
He didn’t react.
Not even a flicker.
“I told you,” Thomas said. “You never understood James.”
The rear window shattered.
A smoke canister rolled across the floor.
Nathan had created the distraction.
White smoke erupted.
Ward fired.
One guard fell.
Thomas threw himself sideways, taking the chair with him.
Ross’s shot struck the floor.
Ben came through the rear window.
He didn’t look at Thomas.
Or Ross.
He looked up the staircase.
Then ran.
One of Ross’s men moved to block him.
Ben hit him without slowing.
The man struck the wall.
Ben continued upward.
Calle’s name never left his mouth.
But I heard it in every step.
Ward reached Thomas.
Nathan entered through the broken window and covered them.
Mom ran to Thomas and dropped beside him.
“Uncle Thomas.”
His battered face softened.
“Ellie girl.”
Only Thomas had ever called her that.
Mom cut the ropes around his wrists.
Nathan pulled him to his feet.
“Can you walk?”
Thomas looked offended.
“I’m eighty-six, not dead.”
“Good. Move.”
Gunfire erupted above us.
Ben.
Calle.
I started toward the stairs.
Ward caught me around the waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To help my sister.”
“Ben has her.”
“How do you know?”
His gaze flicked upward.
“Because nothing short of death will stop him.”
Ross moved through the smoke.
I saw the silver flash of his hair.
“Ward!”
Ross fired.
Ward turned, pushing me down.
The bullet struck the wall.
Nathan returned fire.
Ross disappeared through a door beneath the staircase.
“The lower passage!” Thomas shouted. “It leads to Blackwater!”
Ward started after him.
The lighthouse shook.
A deep grinding sound rose from beneath the floor.
The timer on Ward’s radio beeped.
00:19:59.
00:19:58.
00:19:57.
“Ross is going to the second gate,” I said.
Thomas gripped Nathan’s arm.