With her gone, the air around me energized like a gathering storm. Lyle shot me a death stare. “Back off, Erin, or I’ll make your sister’s life a living hell.”
“You already did, asshole.” I focused so my voice wouldn’t quaver with rage.
“Walk away or I’ll assert my parental rights.”
That stopped me. The only thing that mattered more than vengeance and getting my mom’s money back was my niece.
His smile broadened. My poker face must’ve slipped.
Ebba reappeared, saving me from the lack of a ready comeback. She handed me a paper. “Here. Take the title.”
“Ebba!” Lyle reached for it, but she pushed at his chest.
“I’m saving you from yourself, Lyle. Let the boat go. We don’t need it. We’re amazing brokers, and there’s rebuilding happening everywhere in the Caribbean. We can work that to our advantage and then get a boat next year. We’ll live in the islands without being fugitives. Sign it or I’m gone.”
The wee bit of conscience hidden under all that hair surprised me. On second thought, it wasn’t a conscience. More like a CYA move. I mean, how many scruples did I honestly expect a mistress to have?
Lyle’s strangled expression made me smile. I scanned the title quickly, verifying the Somniator Partners name, then interrupted the stare-down between him and Ebba. “I need a signature to make this official. Let’s go to the marina offices and get a notary or whatever while your girlfriend packs your bags. I can recommend a decent hotel in San Juan.” I winked because it felt damn good to be this close to getting everything I needed.
Lyle turned on Ebba. “What the hell have you done?”
She raised her chin. “You lied to me about everything, so be thankful I’m willing to let you earn back my trust.”
“We were free—no ex-wife or kid, no strings. Going where we wanted, when we wanted.”
“I’m no saint, but I’m no thief, either. Fix this and maybe we still can move forward together.”
The moment begged for a mocking slow clap, but I wouldn’t antagonize him when Ebba was doing the heavy lifting for me.
He turned his back on both of us, scrubbing his hands over his face so hard I thought he might actually hurt himself. “‘Maybe’? Well, maybe I’ll take my chances on my own, then, ’cause it doesn’t sound like I’ve got much to lose at this point.”
“Are you saying your freedom and I aren’t worth anything?” Her affected pout suggested she would forgive him but would also use this incident to reset the power balance between them for a while. He let out a frustrated growl.
“I’ll pack our things.” She patted his chest, then turned to me. “Be sure to tell your sister that Lyle is willing to do the right thing for me.”
He grunted. If she weren’t the bitch who stole my sister’s husband, I might warn her about the many ways she’d pay for forcing his hand. I could already see the wheels turning and suspected Ebba and her family would end up his next victims if he weren’t about to be arrested.
“Move it,” he said to me.
We disembarked and headed toward the shore. Agent Reyes watched us from the restaurant. I hoped he and Jones had heard everything and would stand down until I got the document signed.
Ten minutes and some fees and taxes later, I was holding a freshly signed boat title made out to my mother in exchange for her forgiveness of the loan.
“Thank you.” I shook the dockmaster’s hand. “Can’t wait to go explore my new boat.”
Lyle closed his eyes, jaw clenched, color feverish. We exited the office and started back for the boat.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“You don’t think I’m dumb enough to leave you on that boat, do you? I’m seeing this through to the bitter end.”
“Suit yourself.” Lyle stalked off, staying a few steps ahead of me. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the agents were following us now, which they were, from a distance. When Lyle and I reached the yacht, we climbed aboard to find three large suitcases and two cardboard boxes of personal items already on the deck.
Lyle called, “Ebba?”
“Coming.” She appeared with a fourth large suitcase in tow. “This is everything that matters.”
Clearly, one benefit of boat dwelling is that you don’t need many clothes or other things.
“Lovely doing business with you both.” The agents were only one boat away now. “Good luck to you. You’re gonna need it.”
Lyle noticed the men rushing the boat. By the time his confused gaze snapped to mine, I’d pulled out my phone to snap his picture. “Oh, that’s a keeper. Might have to blow it up for when I need a good laugh.”
Agent Reyes asked, “Lyle Foster?”
“Who wants to know?” Lyle scowled.
“I’m Agent Reyes of the FBI, and you’re under arrest.”
Ebba’s eyes widened as she sank onto an empty chair.
Lyle growled at me, “We made a deal, Erin.”
I could’ve burst into a little dance right there but didn’t want to annoy the officers. Instead, I shrugged. “Oops. Guess you’re not the only one who can lie. Sucks to trust the wrong person, doesn’t it? I’ll let these gentlemen handle it from here. Think I’ll check out my accommodations for the night.” I handed Reyes the recording device, gave a little wave to Lyle and Ebba, and brushed past everyone while the officers read them both their rights.
I did it! The adrenaline rush made my hands shake while I grasped the title. My dad would be proud. Smiling through relieved tears, I texted Amanda the picture of Lyle with a note that read Woot! Print this with a note, and drop it in the memory jar for me.
Hot damn, this would be an absolutely perfect afternoon—if only it hadn’t cost me a chance with Eli.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AMANDA
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come for moral support?” Erin helped me wrestle my way into a maternity maxidress with short sleeves that complied with the strict dress code requirements of the Chesapeake Detention Facility in Baltimore. No exposed shoulders, knees, backs, or bellies. I hadn’t paid this much attention to my appearance since my wedding day—a day I couldn’t think about without bitterness. “He’s going to be pissed as hell and probably try to strike back at you. I think you need backup.”
Lyle would be enraged after he got over his shell shock that I’d willingly faced public humiliation in order to bring him down. It hadn’t been easy. News of his arrest had hit our local paper when he landed in Baltimore in handcuffs five days ago. Suddenly all the lookie-loos who typically ignored me were “checking in” to see if I needed anything.
When I’d wished to be on friendlier terms with women like Barb and Sandy, I hadn’t wanted to field comments like “Oh, you poor thing. It must be awful—aw-ful—to have to deal with this when you’re about to give birth.” Worse was imagining the things they said behind my back. But Erin had been right. The satisfaction of having done right kept me from shriveling into a ball.
Mom couldn’t stand her “well-intentioned” neighbors, so she’d fled town for a while—to Aunt Dodo’s, of all places. I supposed, when the chips were down, your best refuge was family. A sister. Mine had been by my side nonstop since returning from Puerto Rico.