There were tears in his mother’s eyes as she laid a hand to his back and pulled him in for a hug.

Did a mother’s love ever grow old? He didn’t think so.

“Thank you,” she said. “For making us a priority.”

There was pride in his father’s eyes when Michael met them with his own.

“In the morning,” his father started, “you get out of here and help your friends.”

Michael smiled.

A massive weight lifted from his life. “We’re good?”

Sawyer tilted his drink in Michael’s direction. “I might need a new bottle for Thanksgiving. Be sure and bring the good stuff.”

“I’ll do that.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Val was a wreck, and Meg was close behind. Between desperation, jet lag, and fear, they exited the plane just before dawn and dropped into bed. They acquired three hours’ sleep before they forced their eyes open to tackle the day.

Meg finished her shower and padded around Val’s home in bare feet.

There was a handwritten note on the coffee pot. I’m in my office. Rick will be here by noon. It was signed, Val.

Copious amounts of black coffee were in store for the day. Meg poured her first cup and opened the notebook she and Val had taken notes in during their long flight home. She sent a text to Val while she scribbled circles around their notes. Any news?

Nothing.

Not what Meg wanted to hear. Should I meet Rick on the airstrip?

He’s coming on the charter from Key West.

The deadline that Val gave Alonzo would pass at three that afternoon. Unless Rick and his team disagreed, they would be calling port authorities and filling out a missing persons report.

Meg didn’t think that would happen. Alonzo was behind all of this, she felt it deep in her gut. The same gut that was sick with worry over Gabi.

Instead of letting her head move to the dark side of what may or may not be happening to Val’s sister, Meg dialed Sam’s number and listened to the phone ring.

“Hey, Boss,” she said when Sam answered.

“Have we heard anything?” Sam asked before saying hello.

“Nothing.” Meg glanced at the clock clicking on the kitchen wall. “Three hours until deadline. Have you learned anything?”

“Blake and his team are following up on a strange lead. Looks like Picano is shipping the majority of his wine into Mexico.”

“What’s strange about that?”

“I have yet to find one retailer buying the wine for their restaurants or stores.”

“Why is the wine shipped to Mexico if no one is drinking it there?”

Sam sighed. “That’s the strange part. Blake should have an answer from his people in that part of the world by noon. Is Rick there yet?”

“No. Is anyone coming with him?”

“Neil is. He’s staying on Key West and chartering a boat to follow Alonzo, should he show up.”

It sounded like something was happening, but still, without word about Gabi, none of it mattered. “Have you heard from Michael?”

“Roundabout. Karen called to let me know the conversation with his parents went well. He has a PR team ready to spin whatever might happen.”

The thought of Michael’s life falling apart sliced inside of her. “What about Alliance?”

“Stop, Meg. I’m fine, we’re all going to get through this. Concentrate on Gabi.”

“That makes me even more crazy. I can’t get to her, Sam. It’s like watching someone drown a mile offshore and my feet are knee-deep in sand.”

“It’s awful, I know. Stay strong and don’t worry about anything here. Call if you need me.”

“I owe you so much already.” Private planes all over the world, endless hours of security, not to mention all the investigating Sam and Blake were doing privately on Meg’s behalf.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Weakness, Alonzo despised weakness.

Yet his hands shook as he answered the phone. There were only two men who sickened him, and the one calling him now had a thick Latino accent and enough money and power to wipe the planet free of everyone Alonzo knew.

“Señor Diaz. How nice of you to call.”

“Is it?”

Alonzo’s head started to heat and sweat formed on his brow. “I was going to contact you today.”

The deep-throated laugh of the man on the other side of the line made Alonzo squirm. “Why do I not believe you? My shipment, Picano. Where is it?”

“Safe.” But that wasn’t what Diaz wanted to hear. “I’m arranging transport.”

“I have heard this before.” There was no laughter in the man’s voice now. “You have twelve hours. From then on, a series of unfortunate events will begin and continue on the hour until I have what I need. Do you understand, Picano?”

Alonzo bit back bile. “I-I need more time.”

“Eleven hours and fifty-five minutes.” Without another word, Diaz hung up.

Meg took Val’s position at his phone in his office while he met Rick on the dock. Because Stephan was the man behind the bow of the charter and none of them wanted to tip the man off, Val insisted on greeting his new guests.

Val observed the charter with different eyes. It was larger than most passenger charters. There were times that the ship had been used to pick up last-minute supplies, so there was a loading ramp on the port side. Today, the ramp was elevated, the passengers hung off the side, getting their first glimpses of the island.

The charter arrived like it always did. Three parties departed the craft and Val’s staff stood by to deliver the newcomers to the island. Val greeted them by name with Rick last.




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