“Let’s get into the trees. Maybe there will be enough shelter from the rain to be able to see.”
She clung to his arm as they rushed along the vegetation. The path had to be close. He spotted it and veered into it. In a few feet they were under a large canopy of trees that broke the deluge assaulting them.
He stopped and wiped the water from his face as Jane did the same. “The path looks well worn. They’re probably still here.”
She nodded. “Got any idea what to say?”
“How about we tell him we spoke to your mother, and she gave us what he wants? We’ll give it to him, sight unseen, if he helps us prove Will’s innocence.”
“I’m not sure I can. That time in my life was awful, Jane. Losing my mom, then losing you. The camp totally destroyed by fire and my dad dead. It’s all a nightmarish jumble I’m not sure I want to relive.”
She hugged him around the waist and stared up into his face. “I understand. I don’t like to think about it either, but there might be some leverage in the pictures we can use if he refuses to help us.”
“Okay.” He embraced her and rested his chin on the top of her head. Her hair smelled of the sea and rain. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He lifted his head and dropped his arms from around her. “I’m ready to do this.”
* * *
The mishmash of lean-tos and tents looked even more dismal in the rain. Reid wiped his dripping face and studied the clearing. The scent of mud and wet leaves swirled around them in a suffocating stench. He didn’t want to leave the trees’ shelter until he was sure of the lay of the land. It was too risky to Jane. While she might think Gabriel would be amenable to their request, Reid knew him too well to assume anything.
He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I saw movement in that big tent on the right.”
He narrowed his gaze on the entry to the large tent and saw a figure lift the flap and step out into the rain. Before he could say it was Gabriel, something rustled behind them, and he turned to see a man with a rifle trained on them.
Reid lifted his hands. “We’re here to see Gabriel. He’s expecting us.”
The man gestured with the rifle’s barrel. “I’m sure Gabriel will be glad to see you. Move.”
Reid and Jane tramped through the mud to the big tent, and Reid wished there had been some way to bring their guns with them. Or even their phones. But the immersion in seawater would have been problematic. Maybe they should have risked it. Jane had texted Augusta, but by the time she realized there was a problem, it might be too late.
Gabriel gestured for them to step inside out of the rain. The scent of cooking meat filled the tent, and he glanced around. A small propane cookstove occupied the center of the space, and several cots topped by sleeping bags hugged the canvas walls. Camp chairs circled the stove, and Gabriel, who stood staring at them, was the only occupant.
He handed them each a towel, and Reid mopped at his hair and face. Gabriel still hadn’t said anything, and Reid took the time to gather his thoughts. He’d feel easier about the tough conversation if Jane hadn’t insisted on coming along. He had to protect her as well as get to the bottom of this mess.
Gabriel gestured to the camp chairs. “Have a seat.”
Reid guided Jane to the seat farthest from the one Gabriel dropped into. Reid eased into the chair beside the other man and tossed the towel on the floor.
Jane continued to dry her hair, and Reid didn’t like the predatory gleam in Gabriel’s eyes as he watched her.
“So, pretty lady,” Gabriel said. “Did you see your mother?”
Jane dropped the towel to the tent floor. “We did. She was . . . surprised to see me.”
He grinned. “I’m sure she was. What did she have to say about my demand?”
“Kim gave us a safe-deposit key. She said the box contained pictures of you and my dad killing my mother.”
Gabriel’s expression remained impassive. “She said? You didn’t look at the pictures?”
“We haven’t had time to go to the bank,” Jane said. “But you’re not getting the key either unless you help us clear Will.”
Gabriel glanced away for an instant before he gave a quick shake of his head.
Reid felt a sickening rush of intuition. “You didn’t frame Will. You’re using his predicament to try to gain possession of the pictures.” Reid rose and held out his hand to Jane. “We’re done here.”
“What about the key? I’ll take it, and you’ll never see me again.”
Reid started to tell him he couldn’t have it, then remembered they still had to get out of here in one piece. What was to stop Gabriel from killing them and sinking their bodies into the sea?
“It’s back on the boat. We’ll go grab it.”
“You go fetch it, Dixon. The little chief of police stays here.”
Reid crossed his arms across his chest. “Then you don’t get the key.”
“Sure I do. My men can find it.”
“Let them try if you like. It’s little and you have no idea where it is. We both go or you get nothing.”
Gabriel’s lazy smile flattened, and his eyes went cold. “No funny business. Walter here will have his gun on you the whole time. One hint that you’re double-crossing me, and you’re both dead.”
If they played it Gabriel’s way, they’d both be dead anyway. Reid nodded, and they filed back outside. The rain had changed to a sprinkle, and the hint of more light told him the storm was past. The one above them, at least.
Twenty-Eight
If Gabriel didn’t frame Will, then who did?
The question burned through Jane as they trudged back through the drizzle to the beach. The shrubs and trees dripped with moisture, and she was drenched again before they’d gone ten feet. The mud sucked at her bare feet, and her legs felt heavy from the effort of pulling herself free with every footstep.
Sunset was coming, and the sun that had begun poking through the clouds began to sink in the west. And she was tired, so tired.
The gun pointed at them made her back itch. Walter could trip and shoot one of them in the fall. At the first opportunity she planned to get that rifle away from him. Most men underestimated her because of her small stature. This big guy would do the same, and he wouldn’t see her coming until she disarmed him.
In spite of her tired muscles, she had to summon the strength somehow.
They broke through the line of vegetation bordering the beach and stepped onto soggy sand and slick rocks. The boat still bobbed in the water. She hadn’t been sure the anchor would hold. The swells were ferocious, bigger than they’d been when they came ashore. The tide was coming in, amplifying the surging waves.
Fighting that surf felt impossible right now with her legs aching, but she had to do it. Safety was on the boat, and every minute they stayed on the island increased the risk of never getting off of it.
Reid took her hand. “Hang on to me.”
“Hold up,” Walter said from behind him. “I don’t think Gabriel wants it done this way. The water is too rough.”
Too rough to keep his rifle dry for sure. Which was very good.
“Back to camp,” the big guy said. “We can wait awhile.”