Page 20 of Beachcomber Enemy

“Ronnie said she mentioned a basement and the shop has a basement. I’m not sure her house does.”

“We’ll get there in plenty of time. If Sassy is in that shop, we’ll get her out of there.”

Dane grunted. “The problem is, we need to get Whitey because his real target is Shana and as long as he’s out there, Shana’s in danger.”

“We’ll get Whitey at the funeral service.”

“Maybe, but he may sense a trap if we snatch Sassy. Then all bets are off.”

Joe nodded, his face turning grim. “A nasty trade-off,” he said.

“We only need to hold out till the funeral. That will be our best shot at getting Whitey. At the services. He won’t be able to stay away. He’ll need to see for himself that we’re dead. Or see that we’re not. He’ll hold Sassy for insurance until then.”

As he let the roar of the copter’s rotors spinning in the night as they shot through the air, Dane’s mind spun with the disturbing dilemma that Whitey had Sassy now. That there was a very delicate balance between endangering Sassy and endangering Shana. It was going to be a tightrope walk to nail Whitey Nash and save both Sassy and Shana from harm.

Chapter 7

Cap had left Dane’s old Jeep at the airport for him unlocked with the key tossed on the seat. Dane almost expected a note, but of course Cap was too smart for that. As it was, it was risky for Dane to drive around in his Jeep. It was well known on the island as his signature vehicle.

“This our ride?” Joe said. “Nice.” He rattled the passenger door open.

But when Dane got closer he realized the darkness had obscured the differences. The rust spots were gone and the color changed from army green to shiny black. He got inside to reassure himself this was still his old Jeep. The burn hole in the upholstery of the driver’s seat was still there.

“Lucky Jeep. It was at the shop when the shack exploded or I’d have lost this too.”

“Lucky.” Joe said.

“Everything’s relative.” Dane realized there was nothing lucky about the explosion or anything else in his sorry excuse for a life. Nothing except Shana.

“That’s the truth,” Joe said. “How far we going?”

“Five-minute trip.” Dane started the Jeep. The rough growl of the old engine revved his adrenaline into gear as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove them to the Lucky Parrot. Or rather two blocks behind it.

* * *

When she opened her eyes to darkness, Shana knew immediately something was wrong. The emptiness of Dane’s desertion hit her before she awakened fully. Cold pain gripped her as she sat up, alone in her bed. As the reality of his leaving seeped into her consciousness, the implications took hold of her heart and wrenched it, trying to pry it loose.

Panting with panic like she’d never had, even when faced with guns aimed at her by criminals, her hands shook as she pushed off the covers and rose. She rushed to the bathroom to find it empty. Then, as the full impact of Dane’s betrayal seized her, Shana wailed and vomited into the toilet.

Goddamn him. She hated him in this moment.

Because he had lied to her. He had made love to her while he deceived her, lulling her into thinking he trusted her as his partner, trusted her to be able to go after the man who was after her. To trust her in spite of the fact that she was in danger, and in spite of her fear. He couldn’t get past his own fear. Couldn’t allow himself to let her be who she was.

Could she live with that the rest of her life?

How could she live without him?

Forcing herself past the hurt, past the terrorizing thoughts and feeling of betrayal, she tried to replace it all with rage and determination. Looking in the mirror, she washed her face, cooling and calming herself even as her hands still shook.

She needed to put off feeling and thinking about what this meant for their relationship, for her trust. She would save for another day the decision about whether or not she should trust Dane enough, whether he trusted her enough, to still marry him.

Shoving aside the trouble crowding her head and heart, she went back into the bedroom. Breathe in and out, steady yourself. She threw open the closet doors where Madeline had left the getup for her to wear. Her mind sped through the logistics, catching her up to the reality of the moment. She’d need to act fast. And she’d need to find a way to Martha’s Vineyard in the quickest possible time.

Copter. Vendi.

She placed her call and when she was finished arguing, cajoling, and promising too many things to him, Vendi agreed. Then with another set of deep breaths, she took the box of hair dye and headed to the en suite bathroom.

* * *