Page 111 of Wild Escape

Jack took the helm as we followed the sheriff. We were all still amped up on adrenaline.

The moon glowed overhead, and the salty air swirled. The stars twinkled.

“What happens now?” Daphne asked.

“You go back to jail and get processed out. You lived up to your end of the bargain. I don’t see any reason why the prosecutor won’t hold to the agreement. Dane and Brock are out of commission. You cooperated to the fullest extent.”

“Did I?” she asked with more than a hint of concern.

55

Isigned the paperwork and booked her back in.

“I guess this is goodbye,” Daphne said with sad eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll be back on the streets, raising hell in no time.”

She smirked. “Let’s hope so.”

Deputies escorted her away.

“Thank you,” I called to her. “I owe you one.”

Daphne grinned. “I intend on collecting.”

She was processed back into the system. I wasn’t sure how long it would take her to get back out. In my report, I left out the bit about her temporary escape and assault. She’d saved my ass on Whisper Key.

I was a little hesitant to log in a $30-million artifact. With the way things were around here, it might walk off. I gave it to the sheriff and let him sort it out.

I surrendered my weapons and remained on administrative leave. I’d been in three officer-involved shootings in as many days. Two of which involved cop killers. There wouldn’t be much of an investigation.

JD and I left the station, hopped into the Porsche, and drove back toward Diver Down. The sun would be up soon. With the top down, the wind swirled.

Jack said, “She was starting to grow on me.”

“That’s because she didn’t kick you in the balls,” I said dryly.

“True.”

“I think she grew on you, too,” he teased.

We returned to the Avventura, and I crashed out.

It was the next afternoon when Daniels called. “We got phone records from the service provider in the Gabby Templeton case. The blood found at the warehouse was a match. You boys feeling ready for duty?”

“Do you need to ask?”

“Echols signed off on a warrant for the house on Spoonbill.”

A burner that regularly appeared at that location had also pinged the tower from the warehouse the night of Gabby Templeton’s disappearance. It also exchanged calls and texts with Raj’s phone.

“Let’s go break down some doors,” Daniels said in an eager voice.

We met the sheriff at the station, gathered a tac team, and set out to raise hell.

56

We pushed through the gate at 513 Spoonbill. A chain-link fence surrounded the yard, which was dry and patchy. Two palm trees swayed overhead. The one-story poured-concrete building had cream stucco, a pitched roof, and powder blue shutters. The place wasn’t much to speak of, but there was a nice red Corvette in the driveway.