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Willa covered her mouth with her hand. “Henri?”
“At this point, I’d say there’s a good chance she’s our killer.”
Willa shivered. Outside her window, the wind howled, the palm trees slapping the side of the house, the air inside the apartment seeming too thick to breathe. They were on an island, trapped with a killer. “What do we do now?” she asked in a whisper.
He cocked his head and went to the window, opening it. The wind blew in, making the blinds flap. “That sounds like the old fisherman’s boat motor.”
“I don’t hear anything,” she said, trying to listen over the wind.
“Carlos didn’t come in at the boathouse. The wind is carrying the sound from the cove. With the storm getting worse, he would be smart enough not to try to get back around the island by boat.”
Fear jolted through
her. “But that’s exactly what you’re planning to do. Let me go with you.”
He shook his head, grinning. “Me and boats are like that,” he said, crossing his fingers and holding them in front of her. “Not to worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”
She looked at Landry, suddenly even more afraid because she knew what he was thinking. “Henri will be waiting for us knowing, we’re trying to get off the island. That’s why you won’t let me go with you.”
He brushed cool fingers over her cheek, his gaze locked with hers. “I want you to stay here. Lock the door. And if anyone, and I mean anyone tries to get in, shoot them.” He released her hands to pick up the gun from where she’d set it down, and he pressed it into her palm.
“Landry—”
He cut her words off with a kiss. Pulling back he gave her a grin. “I’ll be back. I can’t bear the thought of all those other men competing with me if I don’t.”
She couldn’t help but smile. She leaned into him, aching for him. Right now she just wanted him to hold her and never let her go but she was smart enough to know their only chance was to get off the island. Everyone was dead except a killer, a crazy old woman and a possibly equally demented old fisherman. Neither would be of any help.
She and Landry were on their own against—That was just it. They had no idea what they were up against.
Landry let go of her and moved to the door. He checked out the window first. The sky was dark with the storm. She could hear the roar of the Gulf as he opened the door. Past him, darkness pooled in the corners of the courtyard.
Henri could be out there anywhere.
Landry glanced back at her. What she saw in his eyes tore at her heart. But before she could say a word, he was out the door, locking it behind him.
She stood in the middle of the room feeling bereft, listening for…what? Gunfire? That pop she’d become so familiar with? A grunt? A cry?
She could hear nothing over the wind as it rattled the windows and rain began to pelt the glass. Overhead she heard the squeak of floorboards and froze.
* * *
LANDRY MOVED through the rain and stormy darkness, quiet as a cat. If he didn’t make it back to the villa he feared Willa wouldn’t stand a chance. Whoever had killed the others would wait her out. The supply boat wasn’t scheduled to come back for days. There would be no one on the island who could help her because unless Landry missed his guess, the old fisherman and his boat would disappear, as well.
The wind groaned in the trees overhead, the canopy swaying above him. He could hear the rain hitting the leaves, but couldn’t feel it except through the occasional hole in the canopy. It was dark under the storm and trees, the air thick and humid, buzzing with mosquitoes.
He tried to see ahead, to listen for the sound of a killer stalking him. He could hear nothing but the storm and see nothing in the darkness that lay ahead.
Moving swiftly, he ran along the trail, his gun drawn. He was surprised when he reached the cove and saw that the boat was pulled up on the beach. No sign of Carlos.
Landry made a run through the driving rain to the boat, he pushed it out, jumped in and started the motor.
Carlos appeared out of the dense vegetation. He seemed confused. He didn’t go for a gun. Nor did anyone else appear. No bullets whizzed past as Landry turned the boat out into the huge waves that now swelled in the cove. It would be a rough trip around to the pier. An even rougher trip up the coast once he had Willa.
And the disk.
For a while, he’d almost forgotten about it.
Rain soaked him, the driving wind chilled him. He hit a large wave and spray cascaded over him, salty and cold. He rounded the end of the island and looked back.
