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I turn to Charlie, take a deep breath. “Look, it’s time to put all our cards on the table. At this point, we’re all in this together. Please, what’s the deal with the burial mound? What do those remains have to do with what’s going on now?”
I don’t think he’s going to answer, given MacManus’s presence, but then he must’ve agreed with my assessment that the current crisis trumps long-term objectives. “FBI Special Agent Sherry George,” he states abruptly. “She joined one of the supply ships ferrying materials to and from Pomaikai as an undercover agent. Developing a hotel on an island so remote caught our attention. Her job was to determine the validity of this project, as fake development deals have long been used as covers for money laundering operations.”
MacManus starts to huff in outrage. Charlie cuts him off.
“Nine months ago, Special Agent George disappeared. Completely. Haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
The room falls silent. Even MacManus appears stunned by the announcement.
“You think the body belongs to her,” I say quietly.
“I think it’s a strong possibility. Career agent, mother of two kids. Her husband’s with the bureau as well. These kinds of things, they’re not supposed to happen. And yet it did.”
His gaze returns to MacManus.
“As I’m sure you discovered,” he blusters, “my business dealings are entirely on the up-and-up.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“I would never condone the killing of a federal law enforcement officer!”
“Maybe.” Charlie’s gaze cuts to Leilani. I don’t know if other people catch it, but I’m certainly interested. I’m expecting another smirk, but her expression remains passive. Given Charlie’s earlier look of genuine hatred toward Lea, I’m guessing he suspects her in the death of the missing FBI agent. Why, however, has me genuinely stymied. Could it be that a seventeen-year-old girl is the true power behind MacManus’s enterprise? And already coldhearted enough to be killing off threats to her world order?
Then again, Keahi was barely in her twenties when she started slitting throats. Maybe, when it comes to the Pierson family, no horrible act is beyond consideration.
“You’re not an engineer.” Ann addresses Charlie, her feelings clearly still hurt.
“I am,” Charlie clarifies. “And I’ve worked on McMurdo. I just happen to be an FBI agent as well.”
“But not Australian!”
“I went to school in Sydney. Bummed around a few extra years. In my heart, luv, I’m forever part Aussie.”
It’s a nice bit of poetry, but based on Ann’s expression, she’s not buying it.
There’s a growing swell of unease rippling around the room. From learning of Charlie’s deception to the news the discovered remains might belong to a murdered FBI agent, this conversation is sending a bunch of already scared people’s anxiety sky-high.
I try to get us back on track. “We need a plan. Clearly, staying on Pomaikai isn’t good for our future safety and security. So. Options?”
I turn to Vaughn. The man’s hair is once again standing on end, and his hands are stained with blood, but he’s still the most capable guy I know.
“Can you fly?” he asks Marilee now.
She winces, laboring through another inhale. “I don’t know. But I could… advise.”
“Someone else at the controls, you provide backup.”
“Maybe. But it’d… be risky. This kind of flying… short runway… no lights… out of radio range… Don’t let my natural skill fool you. Not… for the… faint of heart.”
“Not everyone can fit on the plane,” Ronin speaks up quietly, bringing us back to our earlier discussion.
“But it’s at least an option involving some people,” Vaughn counters. I get his line of thinking. We used it in Wyoming as well. We might not all make it, but at least some of us would. It made sense then, too, right until the bullets started flying, and the ones who didn’t make it were the ones we couldn’t bear to lose.
I hate this place, but mostly, I hate Leilani Pierson, because at least her sister has the decency to be honest about her homicidal tendencies, whereas there’s no way this smug little bitch isn’t up to something.
And just like that, I have it.
“Parlay,” I speak up.
