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She came awake in an instant, looked scared, then annoyed to see him. Nothing new there.
She nodded, threw back the sheet and swung her legs over the side. It took a few moments to put on her tennis shoes. He was glad to see that she’d chosen dark jeans and a long-sleeved dark-colored shirt. She snugged a navy baseball cap down over her head and stood.
“The keys to the storage unit?” he whispered.
She held them up, along with a small penlight. She had to be kidding.
He handed her a real flashlight from his backpack and took the extra one for himself.
She pocketed her penlight and gave him a look that said she didn’t like him much.
Better that way, he thought as he motioned for her to be as quiet as possible. She followed behind him, barely making a sound. At the door, he opened it and peered out again.
No sign of anyone. He led the way down the stairs and through the archway. Once past the house and under the canopy of the trees there was no light from the moon. He stopped to listen to make sure they hadn’t been followed. He could hear Willa’s soft breaths. He reached for her hand; it felt cool to his touch.
Willa felt his fingers search out her hand. She tried not to flinch at his unexpected touch. Or shiver at the tingle of that same touch as his fingers tightened around hers.
She could feel the dampness, hear the breeze moving through the trees high above them, and smell the Gulf.
Landry stopped, pulled her close and for one crazy moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he appeared to be listening, as if he feared they’d been followed. All she could hear was the sound of her own pulse pounding in her ears.
After a moment, he drew her deeper into the trees. She could hear the surf ahead. The trees opened. Moonlight spilled over the water. Waves curled white and broke on the beach. The tide was out again.
Landry moved quickly to the brush. She heard the scrape of metal over the sound of the surf breaking on the rocks behind her farther up the beach.
He pulled a small boat from the bushes and motioned for her to get in.
She hesitated but only for a moment, then stepped into the boat. Landry pushed it out and hopped in. A wave crashed over the front of the bow sending up cold spray.
She shivered as Landry paddled away from the island before starting the motor. The boat purred through the moonlight. She watched Landry as he worked his way past mangrove island after mangrove island, surprised how at home he looked on the water. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Landry was at home in almost any situation.
When she glanced back toward the island, she saw a figure at the edge of the trees.
“Landry,” she said over the putt of the outboard. She motioned back toward the shore.
He turned, eyes narrowing as the figure melted back into the vegetation. “Did you see who it was?” he asked after they’d rounded one of the other islands.
She shook her head, hugging herself. Someone had followed them. Someone knew they’d left the island.
For a long while, she watched behind them, expecting to see another boat on the moon-slick surface or hear another motor. But there was nothing but islands and the gentle rock of the boat to the steady throb of the motor to lull her.
She must have closed her eyes, lying back in the boat, looking up at the moon riding high in the sky. As she drifted off, she tried not to think about what would happen once Landry had the painting and the disk.
Her eyes opened as she became aware that the boat had slowed. Landry brought the bow up to the dock. She grabbed hold of the ladder and held on as Landry hopped out and tied up the boat before reaching for her hand.
They walked through Everglades City, the town deserted at this hour of the night. Willa felt as if they might be the only two people still alive anywhere. It was a strange feeling, this closeness to Landry, this feeling that they were in this together.
She knew it wouldn’t last but for tonight she breathed in the exotic scents, Landry Jones’s among them, and didn’t think about tomorrow. Or even the rest of tonight.
As they walked, she noticed Landry turning to look over his shoulder just as she had been doing for days. But she saw no one. She heard no other boat or even a car. It was off-season and most of the houses along the water were boarded-up and empty.
When they reached the storage facility, she took the keys from her pocket. The units were one long row of metal compartments behind a chain-link fence. She went to the gate and used a key to get them inside, locking it behind them.
Several large outdoor lights shone at each end of the property. Only moonlight lit the middle section and only on the east side. It was pitch-black on the west side where her unit was located. They stayed to the shadows, Landry watching behind them as she moved along the shell lane. She started at the sound of a dog barking in the distance.
She used another key to open the padlock on the door to her storage unit. It made a soft click. She froze, listened, then stepped aside as Landry rolled the door upward, the sound loud as a gunshot.
They quickly stepped in, closed the door and turned on the flashlights Landry had supplied.
