“On the end of that bank there.” Holt pointed to their left. “Are those cypress trees twisted at the bottom?”
She directed the light right at the trunk of the trees, exposing the two trunks wrapped around each other like twine. “Yes.”
He directed the boat into the channel in front of the twisted trees. “He was starting his search here.”
She shone the spotlight down the tiny inlet, but the light couldn’t reach the end. “Did he give you any other indication as to where?”
“He found Anna on the left side, not too far from where the cypress roots take over the bank, but he wasn’t sure he’d pick up her trail there.”
“Why not?”
“He scanned the area when he found her and didn’t see tracks leading into or away from that area.”
“But if he just scanned the area…”
“He would double-check to make sure, but I have no doubt that he saw what was there to be seen. When it comes to tracking, the only person better than Max is Tanner.”
“Okay, so where would he go after he double-checked?”
“He’d search the bank on each side, trying to find signs that Anna had entered the water to dodge her attacker.”
Alex sucked in a breath at the thought of sticking even a foot in this channel, but if she was running for her life, she supposed she would manage it. She directed the spotlight to the bank on the left, scanning the mass of cypress roots, then swung around to the right.
A glint of metal reflected in the light of the spotlight and she jumped up, causing the boat to rock. “There!” She pointed to a pile of brush caught in the tide next to the bank. The bow of the boat peeked out, wedged between the brush and the bank. Maybe it was intentional. Maybe they’d had engine trouble and were doing their best to camouflage the boat until morning.
Holt threw the motor in Reverse and backed up a little, then changed direction and eased their boat alongside the other. Alex shone the spotlight into the other boat and felt her heart sink when she found it empty.
She stepped carefully from Holt’s boat into the empty one and lifted the storage compartment at the front of the boat. The life jackets were clearly stamped with the name of the rental company. She lifted a jacket up and shone the light on it for Holt to see.
“There’s no sign of a struggle,” she said. “No blood. Thank goodness.”
Holt leaned over and reached for the tie line dangling off the bow of the boat and into the water. He pulled it out of the water and held the end up. “It’s been cut.”
Alex stepped back onto Holt’s boat, feeling her anxiety kicking up about ten notches. “He intentionally stranded them out here in this storm. What would Max have done?”
“Attempted to find cover. Cover with a clear line of sight so that no one could sneak up on them.”
She brushed her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to stop the rising panic she felt. “The killer could be out there hunting them. What do we do?”
“We try to figure out where they went onshore, and then I try to track them.”
“Is that even possible in this storm?”
“It’s going to have to be.”
* * *
M
AX LOOKED OUT THE CHURCH
loft window, scanning the village and surrounding swamp for any sign of movement. The storm had finally pushed past them and the clouds had thinned. A dim glow of moonlight filtered through the village, creating areas of faint illumination and dark shadows.
He looked back over at Colette, curled in a blanket on the floor, dozing. Seeing the lights had seriously frightened her, and it had taken him sitting with her for almost an hour before she calmed down enough to drift off into sleep. Exhaustion, he figured, had finally taken over, which was just as well. Once he was ready to move, she’d need her strength.
And what he needed was a plan.
Waiting for morning to travel through the swamp made them an easy target, especially as the attacker knew where they were. But trying to traverse the swamp at night came with its own set of dangers. What worried Max the most was that if they managed to arrive safely back at the bank, there was no guarantee the boat would be there. In fact, he seriously doubted it would be.
Which then led to enormous problem number two—getting back to town. Returning to Pirate’s Cove on foot was a huge risk that would require swimming across several channels. Anna had been very fortunate when she’d taken her dip. There was no guarantee that he and Colette would be as lucky.
He rose from the crate with a sigh. Before he could do anything, he needed to put together some supplies. With no way of knowing how long it would take for them to get out of the swamp, it was best to travel with as much food and water as they could manage.
As he took one step away from the window, he caught sight of a light out of the corner of his eye. Whipping his head around, he stared into the swamp, watching as the light bobbed up and down, moving through the trees. Moving directly toward Cache.
He hurried over to Colette and shook her gently. She stirred a little at first then bolted upright, her eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“There’s a light out in the swamp. It’s moving this way.”
“Is it a lost soul?”
“No. It’s a spotlight.”
He could tell by her frightened expression that the implications of what he relayed weren’t lost on her. “I need you to get behind that first row of crates and cover me.”
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs. If I can take him alive, I want to.”
“Max, I never thought I’d say this, but if you kill him, all this is over.”
“Not necessarily. We don’t know that he’s working alone. Killing him wouldn’t give us answers, and I want those answers.”
He picked up the shotgun from the crates and handed it to Colette. “Get behind those crates on the right-hand side. Aim at the door, but do not shoot unless I tell you to. I don’t want to risk you shooting me by accident.”
She nodded and slid onto the floor behind the crates. Her hands shook as she leveled the gun across the top of the crates and pointed it at the church door. Before he could change his mind, Max climbed down from the loft and hurried to the church entrance. At one of the back windows, he pulled the blanket to the side and peered out into the village. The beam from the spotlight shone down the path in front of the church.
The attacker was close.
Max pressed himself against the back wall, as close as possible to the church door, then pulled out his pistol. When the attacker walked in, he was going to press the gun to his head and hope the man didn’t decide to take a risk.
He heard the footsteps as the attacker approached. Then they stopped right in front of the church. The beam of the spotlight hit the front door full force, its powerful light streaming in through the cracks between the door and the frame. The footsteps picked up again and Max’s heart dropped.
There were two men coming.
It was too late to rethink it. In a matter of seconds, they’d both be inside the church. He’d just have to grab the first man and hope that the sight of a gun shoved to his partner’s head would cause the second man to put down his weapon.
The creak of the wooden steps echoed through the stillness in the church. Max glanced up at the loft, but he could make out only the outline of Colette’s head. He gripped his pistol and said a silent prayer as the church door inched silently open.
As the first slicker-suited figure stepped through the door, he placed his pistol to the side of the man’s head. “Don’t move or I blow you away.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Max?”
Holt!
Max dropped his gun as Holt pulled back the hood of his slicker suit and stepped aside to allow Alex to enter. He heard Colette cry out from the loft, and seconds later she hurried down the ladder and rushed to the front of the church to hug Alex.
Holt gave his brother a hug, his relief apparent. “Man, are we glad to see you.”
“That goes both ways. How did you find us?”
Alex stepped over to give Max a hug and then released him, smiling. “We used your map to get to the channel. We found your boat downstream stuck in some brush. The line had been cut.”
“Oh!” Colette cried out. “I hadn’t even thought about the boat.” She looked over at Max. “But I bet you had.” She shook her head. “I never thought I’d say this, but thank you for keeping things from me. I don’t think I could have processed one more piece of bad news.”
Max smiled at her. “You did great. Give yourself some credit.”
In the bright light of the spotlight, it was easy to see the blush that crept up her neck. “Thanks,” she said and smiled.
“So you found the boat…” Max prompted.
“Yes,” Alex continued, “then Holt found the end of the tie line where you’d secured it to that piece of driftwood, and that’s where he began his magical tracking.” She elbowed Max in the ribs. “You’ve got some competition. I don’t know how he managed to find a single sign of your passage in that storm.”
“Well,” Holt said, “I don’t think I would have gotten very far without your markers. The white fabric reflected right off the spotlight, so all I really had to do was figure out which direction you went from each marker.”
“You didn’t encounter anyone else in the swamp?” Max asked.
“Not even a sign of another person,” Holt said. “What happened to you?”
Max gave them a quick rundown of what he and Colette had experienced. Holt and Alex were suitably dismayed and enraged over the situation.
“The lost souls,” Alex said as Max described the lights they saw from the church window.
“You say you shot the guy?” Holt asked.
“I think so,” Max replied. “He screamed like I did, but I have no way of knowing how serious the injury is. It may only be a nick.”
“Even a nick may be enough to zero in on him if he’s favoring it tomorrow. Assuming he lives in Pirate’s Cove.”
“Assuming.”
“Well,” Holt said, “you’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to check all that out. But what do you say we get the hell out of here for now?”
Colette sighed in relief. “I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
A
LEX TOSSED SOME BLANKETS
onto the couch next to Max. She’d already settled Colette in the guest bedroom that Max had been using, and that left the couch for him. Not that he minded. He was glad that Colette had agreed to stay at Holt’s cabin for the night, especially as Holt had pulled him aside and told him about the break-in at Colette’s apartment. The night had already been stressful enough. Best to wait until morning to spring yet one more issue on her.
“I’m going to hop in the shower and then turn in,” Alex said. “Colette fell asleep as soon as she hit the pillow. Let’s all try to get some rest. Morning will come soon enough.”
Max glanced at his watch and sighed. Three a.m.
He had a week’s worth of work to shove into a single day. So many things to look into. So many loose ends that needed to be tied up.
* * *
C
OLETTE PULLED THE COVERS
straight on the bed and fluffed the pillows before leaning them against the headrest. She’d had a long, hot shower and a change of clothes and felt remarkably refreshed despite the short amount of sleep.
Voices carried through the bedroom door, and she hoped her shower hadn’t awakened the rest of the cabin’s occupants. She reached for Max’s backpack and pulled out the book of fairy tales with the drawings. They’d almost left the church without it, but Max remembered it before they entered the swamp, and ran back to get it. She was glad he’d made the effort. Something told her the drawings were important. They’d been too exhausted to review them last night, but she planned to look over them with Max at the first opportunity.
She heard a faint knock on the bedroom door and then Alex poked her head inside.
“How are you feeling?” Alex asked.
“Surprisingly good,” she replied as Alex stepped into the bedroom.
“I understand. It wasn’t that long ago that I was in your shoes—desperate for answers and putting myself in danger with every step.”
“I’m glad your answers turned out to be happy ones and that you found your niece. And now you do this full-time with Holt.” Colette shook her head. “It’s hard to imagine volunteering for this.”
“It’s worth it to help people like you. People who couldn’t get help otherwise.”
“Well, I certainly appreciate it.”
Alex smiled. “Then you’ll also appreciate that I am not making the breakfast, but Holt makes a mean pancake.” She turned to leave the room.
“Hey, Alex.”
Alex stopped and turned to look at her. “Yes?”
Colette twisted the hem on the T-shirt Alex had loaned her, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to ask. “Last night, when Max was telling you about the lights, you said they were lost souls.”
Alex nodded.
“Max told me the story he’d heard from the psychic woman when he was a kid, but I wanted to ask…have you ever seen them?”
“Many times. Our house backed up to the swamp. Sometimes my cousin, Sarah, and I would sneak out in the middle of the night and sit at the edge of the swamp and watch them. They were especially active in the clear night after a storm.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” Colette asked. “I mean, you’re a doctor. You studied science.”
Alex frowned. “I used to tell myself that there was a logical explanation for all the things I’d seen growing up in Vodoun, and I found that logical explanation for some of them. But the others…well, let’s just say I’ve stopped denying the things I’ve seen just because I can’t explain them.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I have to be if I want to live here and remain sane. There are a lot of unanswered questions in Mystere Parish.” She smiled. “Don’t be too long or Max will eat all the pancakes,” she said before she left the bedroom.
Colette slipped the book with the drawings into her backpack and zipped it closed. She would ask Max about them later, and as soon as she got to her apartment, she was going to do a little computer research. Surely they could spare a few minutes for her to check out some possible leads.
The tiny breakfast nook should have felt crowded with all four of them crammed around the four-top table, but to Colette, it felt cozy and happy. She watched as Holt shooed Alex away from the stove and smiled at her playful pout as Max laughed and handed her a stack of dishes to place on the table. Despite everything that had happened and everything they had to face that day, they were so normal.