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Floodlights shine on our backs, casting shadows to our fronts. The light clicks off five feet from the edge of the tree line.
“Nothing?” Rex asks. At least, I think it’s Rex.
Max answers. “No sign of Sloane. Or anyone being held against their will.”
We’re in the Jeep, gear stowed, faces wiped clean, before anyone speaks again.
Fuck. Not only did we not find Sloane, we have no leads. No evidence Sloane was ever at this site. It’s been over three weeks since Sage has heard from Sloane. She could literally be anywhere in the world.
“She’s not in the Caymans,” Rex says as we pull away, reading my thoughts.
“What is that place?” Max asks.
“Did you see any of the guns?” Mateo asks.
“Two,” I answer.
The people sleeping in the cots might not have been native to the Caymans. Maybe a resort shipped them in for labor.
I’ll give Rex and Mateo the AK-47s raise suspicion, but owning a gun isn’t a crime. The owners may just want any wayward guest to know they can’t fuck around on premise. Or hell, maybe the owner is a gun aficionado.
“Those bedrooms don’t have windows,” Rex says, sounding defensive of the goose chase.
“It’s a shitty building,” I answer. “Place doesn’t have a lab.” Yes, the last part is a pointed dig at our two contractors who fleshed this location.
Max gives Mateo and Rex a rundown on everything we saw inside while I stare out the window.
Sage will be so disappointed. She thought this was over. That we’d found her sister. She’s supposed to return to work in less than a week. I can go back with her. But is it safe to do so? What am I going to do? Sit in her classroom?
We don’t have a fucking clue who is coming after her or why. Or where her sister is. She could be at the bottom of the ocean feeding the fishes. We have no clues.
“What a fucking waste.” My assessment gets Mateo and Rex’s attention. It’s Rex who takes the bait.
“Look. You all told us she was here. You said, she’s somewhere on these islands. We found the one place she might be. The only place.” He twists in the seat. Questioning his skills clearly pisses him off, but they should absolutely be questioned. “And it wasn’t useless. You know she’s not here now. You suspected. We narrowed the scope of your search.”
Yeah, we narrowed it to the rest of the fucking globe.
It’s almost three a.m. when we return to the Grand Cayman marina. A man dressed in black suit pants and a black button-down Oxford with monogrammed cufflinks awaits on the dock. His pale skin glows in the moonlight. His dark hair looks like it’s brushed back and held in place with gel. He’s a businessman.
The four of us approach. No one else is out here at this time of the night.
“No luck?” The man’s accent is distinctly European.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Jack Sullivan sent me. Did you learn anything?”
Rex gives a quick shake of his head.
“Mateo. Rex.” The man’s authoritative tone has us all stopping on the wood plank boardwalk. “You owe me a debrief.”
“Now?” Mateo asks.
“You two.” The suit points to Max and me, ignoring Mateo’s question. “You’re going to want to call home.” Stone cold tendrils crawl over my skin. “There’s a private plane waiting for you. The driver in the black sedan will take you.”
CHAPTER 30
Sage
