Page 46 of Fierce Seas


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“You’re kidding? Does Dan know it’s your boat? Maybe he brought in some help to find me.”

“It could be opportunistic.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” she asked. “Is there much crime like that down here?”

“Some, and I like to keep an open mind. Regardless, I need to get photographs.”

“From this far away?”

“I have a powerful camera,” he replied, hastily pulling on his shorts. “It will give me sharper details than the video.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Though desperate for a shower, she quickly dressed, and they hurried back to the security room.

“Look through the telescope. See if you can make out the name or reg number on their boat,” he ordered, opening the folding plantation doors.

Walking swiftly to the window and peering into the lens, she could see a speedboat, but the wind from the approaching storm whipping up the sea had caused significant chop.

“I can see the writing, but the water’s rough and the boat’s moving around. Hang on…I think it’s Zelda,” she declared as Scott strode past carrying an impressive camera with an extended zoom lens. “Holy crap. That looks like something you’d see on the sidelines of a football game.”

“This would give them a run for their money,” he replied, opening the sliding glass door and stepping outside.

A blast of wind blew through the room, but he moved confidently to the edge of the patio.

She was tempted to join him, but with the naked eye there was little to see. Returning to the telescope, she watched the two men struggling to climb off the yacht and into their bouncing boat. They looked awkward and inexperienced.

Her heart suddenly leapt.

“I suspect Dan discovered my yacht is registered to my sailing school,” Scott declared, walking back inside and closing the patio door. “It’s easy to trace ownership here.”

“Scott,” she exclaimed urgently, “one of those guys--I know him.”

“From the mansion in L.A.?”

“No, no, I can’t believe this! Shit! He’s an agent like me. He works for Jim, my boss. His name is David Clark.”

“You didn’t know he was embedded with Conchello down here?”

“That’s just it, he’s not. Jim said he was sent to New York. This is crazy.”

Placing the camera on the desk, Scott put his hands on his hips and stared at the floor.

“Scott? What are you thinking?”

“How close to the beach rental did you hide your bag with the money?”

“The money wasn’t in the bag. It was in a metal briefcase. I paid the manager of a nearby hotel to keep it in his safe. It was too risky to have it at the cottage, and there was no way I was about to stash it in the bushes.”

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Elizabeth, if the money with the tracker wasn’t with you, or near you, how did Dan know where you were?”

“I have no idea. The only person who knew my whereabouts was—”

“Your boss, Jim,” Scott interjected.

An icy chill shuddered through her body.

“I’m feeling all prickly,” she mumbled, a wave of nausea washing over her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

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