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“Okay.”
Inputting a code in his phone, he was instantly connected to the home’s security system. To his dismay he could see a nattily dressed, attractive man with light brown hair sitting at the desk next to Elizabeth. Though he was furious with her for allowing a stranger into the security room, telling himself to remain calm, he called into the computer.
“Okay, Elizabeth, what’s up?”
“Scott, this is a dear friend of mine,” Elizabeth said hastily. “His name is Danny Sullivan. He was working undercover with Conchello like I was.”
“Hi, Scott, it’s an honor to meet you,” Danny began, speaking quickly. “I’m sure you have a thousand questions and you’re very concerned about my presence in your house. I’ll answer them all, but for the moment I’ll get straight to the point. I can help you catch Conchello tonight.”
Scott’s heart leapt.
He couldn’t believe it.
Elizabeth had told the man about Operation Justice.
“Don’t panic,” Elizabeth repeated. “I know exactly what you’re thinking.”
“I doubt it,” Scott replied grimly.
“Scott, you’ll find this hard to believe,” Danny said quickly, “but I was posing as Daniel Miller.”
“What did you just say?” Scott demanded, squinting as he studied the man at the desk.
The claim was absurd.
“It’s a shock, I know, but the Daniel Miller you thought was a psycho out to get Elizabeth doesn’t exist. It was all a deception. She didn’t recognize me because we haven’t seen each other in many years, and as you can probably see, the real me looks completely different. I came down here to save her, not harm her. To give you all the details will take far too long. Scott, the bottom line is this. I know Conchello, I know how he thinks and operates, and I have critical information about his private quarters. I risked my life coming to this island to find Elizabeth and connect with you. I want to help you get the bastard.”
Scott wanted to believe him, but the man in the chair at his desk bore no similarity to Daniel Miller.
“I understand your skepticism,” Danny continued earnestly, “but if you meet with me, you won’t be sorry.”
Scott needed a way to verify his claim—and fast—but running a photograph through face recognition software would take time. Then it hit him.
“Tell me what was in the cigar holder?” he asked briskly.
“A small key,” Danny immediately replied. “I found a hidden storage compartment in the back of the Jeep. I took the money, the weapon, and the phone. The money enabled me to change back to my true appearance. Here’s the phone, and the weapon,” he declared, opening the leather satchel and pulling them out. “I’ll leave them both here if you want. I also have the gun I took from the cop in the police van. I’ll leave that as well. For the record, I didn’t shoot that officer, but I did shoot Jim Parker, though it wasn’t my intention to kill him. He was heading back to the house where he’d been interrogated. He wanted to assassinate you and Elizabeth, and anyone else there.”
Rarely was Scott taken aback, but the man’s startling revelations caught him off guard.
“I have a great deal of information about Conchello, and not just evidentiary,” Danny continued. “I must speak with you before you go into his estate. What I have to tell you could save lives.”
“Danny, I believe you,” Scott replied. “Come back with Elizabeth and we’ll continue this in person.”
In the brightly lit, barren room, Sonny Conchello eyed the six rolling office chairs against the wall. They sat three feet apart. All but one bore a name and occupation crudely written in black felt marker on a large piece of white cardboard.
Ewen MacDonald—Soldier.
Bryan Hayes—Property Developer.
Miles Swanson—Banker.
Steven Forsythe—Investments.
Richard Hammond—Lawyer.
On the sixth sat a dummy with the cardboard sign hanging around its neck bearing two names, Daniel Miller and David Clark. Jim Parker would have had the honor of a chair too, but he was already dead.
As Sonny’s mind wandered to Elizabeth McKay, the beautiful, sparkling woman who had called herself Beth Cameron, he still didn’t know what to make of her. But when she was found, and he was sure she would be, she’d answer his questions. Every. Single. One.
