knew, even in her half-conscious state, that she’d been the sole survivor. She closed her eyes again without having focused on him or on anything else in the chopper. It was like she was there and yet wasn’t.
“How’s she doing?” Jer asked.
“In and out of consciousness,” he said.
“He killed him,” she murmured a few minutes later as she opened and then again closed her eyes.
There was no point asking who. Sooner or later she would come to and then she would remember and be able to tell him what had happened. If it was too much later, they would find the information by other means.
He pulled another blanket over her. He reached for a third, rolled it and put it under her calves, thus elevating her legs. At least the fact that she’d shivered was evidence that she hadn’t fallen too far into her unconscious state.
He needed to get some heat on her. More important, he knew that he had to get her out of the wet clothes that clung to her skin. The wet material was only chilling her even further and making the blanket useless. He pulled the blankets back, using one of them to shield what he could of her body. He peeled away the flimsy material. Her skin was damp. He tried to preserve her modesty. But there was only so much he could do. He left her panties on. They were damp too but what he’d done had been enough. At least she wouldn’t arrive in the emergency room completely naked. Not that it mattered, but yet it did matter and he wasn’t sure why. He tucked another blanket around her.
He put a hand on Ava’s forehead. The contact sent a tingle through his hand as if there were still a connection between them. But there was nothing, all of that was over. It was stupid of him to think of that. Silly to remember something that had been nothing but a flirtatious friendship despite what he had wanted. It had been a long time ago. They were different people. He was sure she’d changed, much as he had. He regretted not following up with her. If he had then he’d know who she’d become, what had happened to the happy girl with the quick wit. He took his attention to the immediate. She was warm. There was a sheen to her forehead, like a fever might be developing. Her forehead was moist and not, he knew, from her time in the dinghy. He hoped she didn’t have a fever but the heat he was feeling didn’t bode well. It didn’t matter. They would get her to the hospital and she’d be fine. It was the location of her father that was more disconcerting. For his fate was unknown.
“Dad,” she murmured.
This time there was expectation in the way she said the word, as if she thought her father might make an appearance.
“Find my father,” she said in a breathy whisper.
“It’s Faisal,” he said, hoping that his voice might somehow bring her back to consciousness.
He leaned closer. “You’re alright.” It wasn’t a question but a statement meant to reassure her, to let her know that she was no longer alone.
She pushed him away but it was barely a tap as her one hand dropped and her other didn’t even lift. Nor did she open her eyes. Her head moved to the side as if she were trying to do more but was too weak. “Kill...”
“What?” Sam asked.
“What the hell?” Jer’s voice came through the headset. “What’s she talking about? Kill who, what?”
“I wish I knew,” Faisal said. His attention never left her face. But Ava had closed her eyes again as if that one disturbing word was too much. “Maybe something about what she’s been through. Maybe nothing.”
“Nothing. I doubt that,” Jer replied. “Kill is a fairly intense word in any context.”
“True,” Faisal agreed.
“I’ve been in contact with Miami’s Mercy Hospital. They’re the closest and they’re expecting us.” Jer’s voice came over his earpiece. “Contacted Search and Rescue too. They’ll pass the info on that we’ve found Ava Adams.”
Below, the ocean swept out around them but there was no sign of the missing yacht nor was there any sign of land. Wherever Dan Adams was, they could only hope he was alive and could hang on. The horizon stretched out in front of them and seemed to mock the fact that help was now minutes away.
* * *
BEN WHYTE ROLLED over and moaned. The sun was glaring in his eyes and he couldn’t stand to look at it. He’d dragged himself to shore in the wee hours of the night. He’d lost track of time during a swim that had seemed to go on forever. He hadn’t realized that he’d been that far from shore. It was all supposed to be so much easier than it actually had been. The dispute and resulting fight should never have happened.
Dan Adams, he thought with disdain. The man was an idiot. He hadn’t thought so only days ago, but it was clear now. Dan had signed his own death certificate by admitting what he knew and then confronting him with it. The Dan of the past would never have done that. He would have silently turned him in.
He looked behind him where he could see the distant rise of Paradise Island hotels and other high-rises. But on this strip of sand there was nothing. He needed to ferry over to the main island where the cruise ships were. From there he could slip on the below deck crew entrance on a ship heading for Florida. His hand slid into his pocket and pulled out a debit card and a small wad of soggy bills. He was taking a chance but he could use the card to get a ticket on the ferry.
He guesstimated that he’d swum for well over an hour before collapsing on this stretch of sand and passing out exhausted for the rest of the night. The only thing motivating him to stay alive was the fact that there was too much at stake for him to die. He was one transaction away from being a rich man and that idiot Dan Adams had almost ruined it all, him and his damn daughter. The meddlesome little witch.
He’d needed Dan. His reputation in their partnership was gold. The land didn’t exist, at least not land owned by him, but by the time the damn foreigners found out about it, it would be too late. Except Dan wanted to pull out of the partnership.
He’d shown up on the yacht to give Dan one more chance. Ava Adams was never supposed to have been on board. Dan had told him he was going on a yachting vacation and he hadn’t mentioned his daughter. Instead he’d mentioned the fact that his daughter had accepted a position—her first job. Supposedly it started in some forsaken Wyoming town in the next week or two. He’d forgotten the details. It had only amazed him at the time. Amazed him that anyone would want to live in that backwater. But she’d gone to school there and had been forever infatuated with Wyoming. All that aside, he’d never expected to see her. He’d never thought that she’d fly down to join her father. Dan had never mentioned the possibility.
His hand slid to his waist. Empty. He’d been armed at the beginning of this. Dan had hit him and for a minute his world had grayed and then, when he’d come to, he’d shot him and seen Dan fall overboard.
Now, Ava Adams, if she survived, at best she knew he’d killed her father, at worst she knew it all. He had no idea what her father had told her. What he did know was that he needed to close his last deal before the truth came out. But his Canadian buyer was already showing suspicion and reluctant to pay the balance of what he owed for that tract of land he was so hot to have. Time was of the essence, for he’d heard both impatience and a hint of disbelief in their last phone call. It was as if the buyer had lost confidence in the deal, in Ben’s ability to facilitate the transfer. It was as if he sensed the truth. That couldn’t happen, for the truth would destroy everything. Even without Dan’s reputation
