Silent Protector (16 page)

“M
onica took Charlie?” The sickening feeling settling in Ian’s stomach churned and then flipped when he stood. Monica? “Did she say why?”

George sat up slowly. “She didn’t mean to hurt us, Elsie. She was talking wildly, crazy-like, about getting Charlie off the island. Right now.”

The paramedic gently pushed George back down, but he was adamant and shoved the man’s hands away. “We heard Elsie yell. Monica grabbed Charlie and pushed Elsie to the floor. When she saw me, she knocked me over. I can remember seeing her limping away.” He looked down at the blood splattered around him. “This all can’t be mine, I hope.”

“I don’t think it is,” the paramedic answered. “You have a nasty gash, but some of that blood is over by the door, even smeared on the jamb. Maybe your limping friend Monica cut herself.” He packed away his case. “But if she doesn’t show herself in the next little bit, there won’t be anyone to come for her. You are the last call we’re making before evacuating. And we’re taking you two with us,” he told George and Elsie. “No arguments.”

“I’ll be okay—” George started.

“No, way, sir. You may not be.” The attendant shot both of them a dark look. “The blows on the head you both received could kill you in a few hours. You both need to be checked out.”

Elsie reached over and laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “We aren’t much good here, George. We’ll go to the hospital, and we’ll meet them at the shelter as soon as they find Charlie. And they will find him.”

George nodded, albeit with a reluctant look on his weathered face. “Fine.”

“Yes, we’ll find Charlie,” Ian announced. “And Monica.” Why had she taken the boy?

“She must have been injured,” Liz said. “Remember, Poco is out there, upset, and the last time he was upset, he’d found a blood-soaked belt. If she’s injured, she may not be thinking rationally.”

The paramedics exchanged curious glances.

Liz stood. “We need to find out where she could have taken him.” She rubbed her face and found her hand shaking. “Do you think she’d take him to Leo? If he called Smith’s boss…”

Ian hauled her close and held her tightly. Then releasing her as he reached behind him for his gun, he added, “I need to call my supervisor. I’ll start a search, beginning with Monica’s house. You stay here just in case—”

“I’m coming. I need to do something. I can’t just give up on Charlie. I won’t do that again. I’ve been scared of failing for too long, and it’s not going to happen this time. I
will
find him.”

He would have preferred that she go with the ambulance, but a part of him wanted her close. Liz may be able to talk to Monica, woman to woman.

And Charlie trusted her. She had a love for him that was stronger than even some parents’ love for their own children. She would be a wonderful mother to him. And he knew it.

A surge of emotion tightened in his throat, but he shoved aside the feelings growing in him. The attraction would be dangerous right now, when he needed to concentrate on the situation. “Let’s go.” He grabbed Liz’s hand and barreled outside.

Incredibly, the wind had risen further.

“Liz!” Elsie called out after the other paramedic helped her to stand. Liz returned to the doorway. “Monica won’t hurt Charlie. I’ve known her for years. I helped her stand on her own two feet after her parents died.”

“She has no relatives?”

Elsie shook her head. “Maybe some back in Guatemala but not here. Leo got her a job on that fishing boat he worked on, serving meals to the passengers. She was a good girl.”

A glimpse of Ian over her shoulder told Liz that he was close behind her. “We’ll go to her house first,” he suggested, touching her elbow.

Liz bit her lip. “Charlie told me when he called that the only person here who locked her door was Monica.”

“Well, she never used to.” Elsie shook her head. “Something’s happened to her.”

Liz met Ian’s eyes when she turned. Her breathing came in shallow gulps, her gaze so fearful and lost that he wondered if she would crumble at any moment.

“Monica locks her doors to keep something hidden,” she whispered.

“Or keep someone out,” he answered softly, hating the look on her face. He wished with every ounce of his being that he could wipe away her fear.

“A spare house key will be tucked under the bottom of the step,” Elsie called out to them. “It may help you find Charlie.”

Ian took Liz’s damp hand, and they quickly left. The Wilsons were safe with the paramedics, who would soon help them into the back of the ambulance.

A fine mist had started, and over the gale force howl of the wind, he thought he heard a distant rumble of thunder. They quickened their steps, ending up at Monica’s house shortly after.

Ian found the key and opened the door. Her house had not been boarded up. The men who’d been nailing the boards donated by the resort hadn’t found her to ask her permission, so they’d left it. There were others needing their help.

As a result, the interior was lighter. He turned around in the doorway. “As a U.S. Marshal, I have certain powers of investigation and arrest. I can enter Monica’s house but not—”

“Not me? I promise I won’t touch anything, but I’m not waiting outside. An extra set of eyes may be just what you need. So don’t be thinking of telling me what I shouldn’t do.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered dryly as he pivoted. By this time they’d entered Monica’s kitchen, where Ian called out the woman’s name.

All the windows were closed, and some were rattling in the wind. But it was light enough to see. The still, hot
air drifting around them told them no one was home. He stepped forward. Not touching anything, Liz followed him. “Charlie? Are you here?”

No answer,
Liz thought dejectedly. She stifled the fear inside of her and rolled over in her mind the same short, urgent prayer she’d been quoting for days.
Keep Charlie safe, Lord. Help us, Lord.

The kitchen was dark. A few dishes sat in a drying rack beside the ancient sink. Beside the lower cupboard near the door was a pair of ancient rubber boots.

Holding back tears, Liz gripped Ian’s hand as they searched the rest of the house. In the tiny bathroom, along the back of the porcelain sink, stood several bottles, swabs and items usually found in a first aid kit. And several bottles and cans containing those unpronounceable compounds Liz had seen on the clinic’s list.

“These were stolen from the clinic!”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t think she broke into it, though. The back door to the center was smashed in, and all she’d have to do was unlock the front door. I gave her a key.”

“But she has these substances.”

“Maybe she was given them?”

At that moment, a gust rattled the windows of the house, slashing rain against the glass with angry ferocity. Liz recalled what Ian had said about a storm surge. The whole island could be underwater by this time tomorrow.

Biting back all the insecurities she had, she lingered close to Ian, who was checking out the two minuscule bedrooms.

“Lord, give me strength. Now, please!”

Her prayer was soft, though she’d spoken it aloud. She was also sure Ian had heard it, but he said nothing when he turned away from one of the bedrooms.

“Nothing. We need to check out Leo’s home.”

They headed over to Leo’s house. The front and side windows of the house had been boarded up, but not the ones around the back. Because of the fire, the whole back end wasn’t secure. Ian stepped over the charred threshold, followed closely by Liz. “Charlie!”

No answer. They walked into the kitchen. Over the heat and rain, Liz could smell the acrid, charred scent left by the fire. They walked into the front room. It was remarkably untouched by the damage. In fact, in the dim light, it looked very much like any ordinary living room except there were several blankets and pillows on the floor.

Ian pulled a tissue from his pocket and carefully opened a drawer in a desk by the window. He gently sifted through the contents.

“Look.” With his right hand, he held up several papers, printed copies of Web sites that dealt with handling weapons. Liz peered down at the ones still in the drawer. They were lists of various names, plus info on the people.

“These,” Ian said grimly, “are copies of confidential docs my supervisor sent me. The only person I know who could have printed them out would be Monica. She had printed out confidential info on Charlie, so she must have somehow found these as well. She knows my password.”

“Charlie said something about that.” Sick dread roiled in her stomach. “But why give them to Leo?”

She pursed her lips. Think! Where would Monica take Charlie? “They’d need to hide him,” she told Ian.

“They wouldn’t risk going across the causeway because they’d be spotted. The resort workers will be moving
equipment over it all day. And they must realize that staying here would be dangerous. Even the couple who’d hoped to stay left early this morning in the resort van.”

“Maybe in the car we found?”

“I thought of that, but I’m betting that Leo sent his family away in it. No. This isn’t adding up somehow. Think about how Monica acted around Leo.”

“I didn’t notice anything strange. What do you mean?” Liz asked.

“I mean she gave him a wide berth, so to speak. When she came to help put the fire out here, she kept throwing him strange looks. And she was in the forest digging in the ground when you surprised her. Shortly after, we meet Leo, who also has dirt under his fingernails. They were both after something buried.”

Liz gasped. “The petty cash has been stolen from the resort! I wonder if it was in a strong box like most other places.”

“The chief said it was. Someone stole it and buried it, and Monica was searching for it. She must have known about it.”

“Smith might have stolen it. Remember, the security chief said some pants were also stolen. At first, I wondered if Monica took them to help sneak onto the resort. But there’s no way she could pass for a man. But Smith might have needed them. He’d be better at blending into a construction site than a woman like Monica.”

“That doesn’t tell us where Leo fits in all of this. And he’s got to, you know.”

“No, it doesn’t. He and Monica are in on something, even though it feels like they don’t trust each other.”

Liz grabbed Ian. “Charlie mentioned buried treasure, but I figured he was thinking of pirate treasure, but it could be the money. Leo has something to do with the theft, I’d guess.”

Logically sorting through the possibilities comforted her. Here was something she could do. Even though it wasn’t getting them any closer to Charlie, she knew it was better than doing nothing at all.

On his belt, Ian’s cell phone rang. After looking at the screen, he quickly answered it.

Liz watched him pale.

It was bad news.

O
ver the roar of the wind, Ian heard the anxiety in Leo’s voice.

“Ian, if you want this kid, then come to the beach.”

“Leo? You took Charlie?”

“I didn’t. It was Monica. I have the kid, and he’s pretty scared but okay.”

The hairs on Ian’s neck rose. Why didn’t Leo just bring Charlie back? Why call and ask Ian to go get him?

“Bring him back to the rec center, then. We’re all ready to leave.”

“I can’t. I have some things to do. Monica is acting crazy. You had better come. Both of you.”

Oh, yeah, something is up.
Leo was a little too anxious. “Just a sec, Leo. I have to get to someplace sheltered. I can hardly hear you.” He covered the phone with his hand and hurried to the door. After opening it, he held the phone into the wind for effect. “It’s Leo.” He whispered to Liz. “He has Charlie, but this is a trap.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he refuses to bring Charlie here. He says he’s too busy, and we have to come get him. If he’s using Smith’s phone, then he has Sabby’s private number. Think of it, Liz. The private number for the cartel’s big boss. Charlie
said Leo told someone on the phone that Smith was alive. As long as Sabby believes that Smith is alive, he believes there is a threat to his cartel. But if someone was to offer to kill you, Charlie
and
Smith, for a price, then that would eliminate any ties to him.”

“But I don’t know anything.”

“You must. Liz, when you were talking about seeing Smith driving from the direction of your house, did you see anyone else with him?”

“No. He was alone.”

“When you were in Bangor, at Jerry’s apartment? When you were talking about it, you had a look on your face, as if you were trying to remember something. What was it?”

She threw up her hands! “I don’t know! Look, Ian, the longer we talk about this, the more danger Charlie is in. I may know something, but it doesn’t matter right now! We have to go. We have to take the chance that Leo will let Charlie go. That he
really is
busy and can’t bring Charlie.”

“He’s lying, Liz!” Ian hissed back.

“He has Charlie, and I don’t care about his lies. I won’t abandon Charlie.” She glared at him. “And I won’t drive away from here without him. You may be brewing up some grandiose plan to rescue him, while leaving me here, but that’s not going to happen. You need me, because I’m the only one who Charlie will listen to, and we may need him to obey your instructions. So forget telling me to leave or to stay put. I’m going with you.”

“I came to that conclusion ten minutes ago.” He lifted his brows for effect.

“Oh. Well, let’s go!” She took two steps toward the trailhead when Ian yanked her back into Leo’s living room.

“We’re taking a shortcut. Leo may have an ambush set up. I want the element of surprise. If he has Smith’s cell, then he probably has his weapons. And that could include a handgun
and
a rifle.”

“Which way, then?” She looked brave, but Ian could see her throat bob, her tongue run over dry lips and he heard her short little sniffle, even over the wind.

He brought his phone to his ear again. “You still there, Leo?”

“What took you so long?”

“Trying to find some shelter. Where are you? Where the spring runoff meets the beach?”

“Yeah, you know the spot. Five minutes.” He hung up.

Ian put away his phone. Without another word, he pulled Liz out of the house and down the road toward the center. Liz yanked on him. “Where’s Charlie?” she asked him.

“He wants to meet us at the beach.”

“Why the beach? A storm is coming.”

Not wanting to answer, Ian pulled her along the length of the center and right into the thick forest behind it. The vines slapped at them in the gale, and yet, he still kept talking. “He dragged Smith’s body there, hoping it would get washed away. Then he decides he’ll kill you and Charlie. He would need proof that you were all dead, though, and Smith’s body has already been taken.”

“He took pictures of it with the cell phone, Ian,” Liz yelled at his back. “You have a picture of Smith on your phone.”

“Not good enough. Photos are no proof. Wait!” He snapped his fingers. “Smith had a finger missing. I thought that fish had gotten it, but Leo must have cut it off.”

Liz wrinkled her nose and cringed. “That’s gross, but it’s still no proof that Smith would be dead.”

“Perhaps Leo thinks that combined with a photo, or even a video taken by the phone, would be enough.”

“Forget that. I’d rather we focus on getting Charlie. Where are we headed? To the beach south of where Leo thinks we’re meeting him?”

“Exactly. Look, the beach is ahead. Let’s get down low and be quiet.” He yanked her down to a kneeling position.

She lowered her voice. “Ian—”

“Shh.”

“No!” She barely raised her voice, and it certainly was hard to hear above the rising wind, but she had to speak. She crawled up close to him. “Are you saying that Leo wants to kill us for the cartel?”

He twisted around, surprised to see her so close. “I don’t know anything for sure. All I know is it makes sense.” He softened. This was hard for him, a seasoned marshal. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for Liz. The rain still found them in the thick of the forest, with not only the canopy of trees but also the vines that crawled only a few feet upward. Liz’s hair was plastered to her face on the windward side.

She was beautiful—so caring, so trusting, so untouched by the ugliness of the world. He wanted to keep her like that.

But she wasn’t untouched. She’d been dealing with Jerry and his disgusting lifestyle for as long as her sister had been with him.

She was strong about it all. Stronger than she realized.

“Liz,” he whispered, “we’ll get Charlie back. I won’t allow Leo to hurt a hair on his head.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

He turned away from her before he messed up this mission with a foolish kiss. He needed to focus on their task, not on his own distracting desires.

After crawling through the narrow stretch of woods, he finally reached the edge of the beach. Unlike some places, where the beach gradually mixed with the forest, here, the beach started abruptly. The forest floor beneath them was soft, almost loamy, and gave suddenly to messy sand, a narrow skirting around the greenery. He didn’t really like it, but where they lay did provide good cover.

He pulled out his handgun and lay prone on the ground, legs splayed around the tree trunks and his hip digging into a small, broken stump. Rain peppered him.

“Is he there?” Liz asked behind him. “Do you see Charlie?”

“No. We’re about twenty yards south, and in this rain, I can’t see much.”

“If you can’t see Leo, then maybe he can’t see—”

He didn’t let her finish. He crawled out on the beach, peering through the drenching rain. Sand was also bouncing up into his face, stinging his eyes, forcing him to blink continually. “Ian!”

It wasn’t Liz calling. The masculine voice, oddly deep for a skinny person like Leo, sliced roughly through the wind and rain. “I can see you, Ian. Stand up or the kid dies.”

Ian squinted ahead. Leo was standing not too far off, Ian’s night vision goggles dangling around his neck. Ian hadn’t checked the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet yet.

Leo had one hand on a gun and the other on Charlie’s quivering shoulder.

“And tell your friend, Liz, to stand up, too. I want you both out in the open.”