CHAPTER 49
Wilson Estate
Cliff Road, Nantucket
Si Wilson laughed nervously to himself. Some secret agent I am!
After a brief consultation with his father, young Si had walked into the Nantucket darkness, hidden himself by lying flat on the ground behind the boxwoods that surrounded his family’s property, and started following Nat Phillips’s orders to be his “eyes and ears.”
It was exciting to have been given a mission, but knowing that Nat and his team were on high alert fourteen miles away planted a fear of the unknown that made Si start to doubt his courage.
The one rule his father had given him, though, was Quitting is never an option.
Following that mantra, he might get insulted—he might even get his ass kicked—but he would not give up.
And that reputation, he learned over time, became an asset and slowly boosted his self-confidence.
People assumed that Si had grown up pampered, in the lap of luxury—the silver-spoon shit, as he liked to say.
Obviously it was true to some extent, but not entirely.
Si might never be the toughest guy on the street or the smartest guy in the room, but he would never quit. Ever.
He drew on that strength now.
As his eyes adjusted to the dark Nantucket night, he scanned up and down the road. All was quiet for thirty minutes.
Then came the sharp sound of gunfire and a lone figure burst out of the Courville Estate and ran into the front yard, gesturing with both hands and moving in small, panicked circles.
Si raised himself from the ground and into a low crouch. He started to move toward the house for a closer look.