Emma nodded, uncapping her water and taking a long drink. Her skin paled as she gulped the rest of the water.
He didn’t want her to faint. Getting help was impossible here. “Hey, take a seat. Rest for a second.” He motioned to a large, flat rock.
She sank onto the rock, dropping her shovel and wrapping an arm around her bent knees.
He scanned the opposite shoreline, relieved at what he didn’t see. “The boat isn’t over there on the other side.”
They’d gotten turned around and confused. No cause for alarm. He released an easy breath. “I need to get a better view. Maybe see if I can find the canoe. We’ve lost our bearings. Nothing to fear. I’m sure she wanted privacy and wandered too far. Or we got confused.”
Emma flashed a thumbs up and recapped the empty bottle, crinkling the thin plastic.
“You’re okay? Can you wait here? I’ll be right back.” He grabbed a water out of his pack and handed it over. “Take this, too.”
“Thanks. Don’t go too far.”
“I won’t. I promise.” He hated to leave her for even a second. But he had to find Margaux. Guilt gnawed at him. He’d begun to paint her as a villain when she might be the ultimate victim. Emma’s words about the husband gave him clarity. And now Daniel felt shame for his assumptions.
On tiptoe, he carefully picked his way along the water’s edge, carrying the shovel. Weeds tangled with sticks and stones. He didn’t want to be the one to surprise Margaux and have her tumble into the water. At best she’d get wet, and at worst? He shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about bad outcomes anymore. But he continued to follow the line of muddy earth at the water’s line, keeping the dock in his sight as an anchor point. Negativity reproduced exponentially until Daniel couldn’t imagine something good.
He'd traveled yards and hadn’t spotted her. Stopping, he turned around, struggling to notice any hint Margaux lingered nearby from a sound to a scent. The water picked up speed with the breeze and crashed onto the shore. The hint of pine, freshwater, and mud pierced his nostrils.
No sign of another human from any direction.
He had traversed most of the shore that they had arrived at. Why move the canoe? What was her goal? Why was she trying to take the only mode of transportation if not to get back across the lake and strand them here? Unless she wanted to do that after she finished tying up loose ends.
His pulse pounded, and his heart threatened to burst out of his chest as dread slunk over him. The note in the hospital bathroom. His limbs hung heavy and dull at his side. Leaving Emma alone was exactly what Margaux must have been after. Separating the two of them so she could overwhelm and attack the weaker link. Emma should have been able to overpower the smaller woman. But she wasn’t feeling well. He’d been a fool so sure of his line of thought that he hadn’t considered all angles.
He tightened his grip on the shovel and stalked back the way he came. Their entry spot on the water had the best path to the tree house. The trail also offered the most visibility from any spot on the island or the opposite bank.
He had to move smart as well as fast. Margaux had outwitted him with her over the top incompetence, and he’d fallen for it. He hadn’t trusted her but neither had imagined her capable of such nefarious schemes. He’d been wrong and could only pray Emma wouldn’t pay the ultimate price for his shortsightedness.
He jogged on fallen pine needles, cushioning and silencing his progress. He returned to the spot where he left Emma but found nothing. His heartbeat thudded in his chest. With his eyes raised, he strained for every sound or disturbance. And he noticed what he didn’t hear. Birds. Insects. Squirrels.
As he puzzled the absence of wildlife, he heard it. A motor. An engine of some sort, a low rumble building into a mechanical roar.
He crouched low, gripping the shovel tight and rotating it. He had his firearm, too, but he didn’t want to show his weapon. Getting closer wasn’t an option without betraying his location. His patience was rewarded.
An inflatable vessel with a motor skidded up onto the shore. The roar cut out. Water splashed and sloshed. Heavy steps and heavy breathing echoed off every tree as they exited the dinghy.
Daniel spotted two large, dark figures, moving fast. Men.
One looked thin and familiar. The other was a hulking mass.
Margaux’s husband and a bodyguard? Daniel had searched the husband’s profile online, recognizing him from the photos on the campaign trail, but he hadn’t looked for Agent Reynolds.
“This is the location. I received the ping. I’m telling you, we’re in the right spot,” the bigger one said.
The man was cut, muscles defined like he spent hours at the gym and survived on protein powder. Daniel would guess the man was private security and former special ops. Had Agent Reynolds shared the information from Daniel with this pair? Why wouldn’t he come himself?
Daniel glanced up the hill. No sign of life that way. He’d pray for the best and for more time. He didn’t need to look at his phone to know he still didn’t have service. But what did this pair have? What sort of gadgets would they pull out after landing on the island like a couple of spy movie villains?
“She didn’t tell me she was coming. I’m worried. She could be in trouble or someone else might be,” the politician said.
Daniel fought a sneer. If Chad really cared for his wife, he would have been in contact. Judging by the man’s coiffed hair and bleached smile, however, appearances mattered.
The bulkier man held up a fist.
Chad stilled, holding his breath.
