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“Call them,” said Cait, “but don’t ask for Dunn until we have the information we need.”
I pressed the button on the radio. “Come in,” I said, waiting eagerly for a response. “Come in, Vaughn.”
Pearce waited with us, a glimmer of hope lifting the wrinkles of his face.
I spoke into the radio again, hoping someone would answer.
A long pause later, the radio hummed. “Mara?” said Vaughn. “Finally! Is Keane alive? And the others?”
Pearce stared at the radio, then at me, his brow deeply furrowed. “Mara Stroud. Ithoughtyou looked familiar.”
Cait placed her hand over the radio. “Tell us how to find the arsenal,” she said to Pearce, “or we won’t say another word.”
“I am not at all convinced Dominic is alive,” said Pearce. “I must hear his voice if I am to tell you anything.”
Cait narrowed her eyes, but she moved her hand. “Fine. But you’ll get no location. No information. Not until you give us ours. We’ll confirm he’s alive, but that’s all you get until you speak.”
I pressed the button again. “Keane and the others are alive, but they’ve been captured. I’ll give you more information later, but right now, we need to hear from Enforcer Dunn. Is he . . . there?”
“Dunn? Yes, he’s still chained up in the hull, exactly where you left him.”
Pearce sucked in a breath, but as he did so, he wheezed. He reached up to his mouth, pressing on his lips as if to regain feeling. “What have you . . . done to me?” He said slowly, as if with great effort. “My lips . . . they’re numb.”
My heart tightened with fear and urgency. I couldn’t believe only one sip had affected him so strongly. “Put Dunn on the radio,” I said to Vaughn. “Quick!”
All of us waited eagerly.
The doorknob rattled.
We froze.
Then came pounding on the door.
“No,” said Cait. “No, no, no.” Her gaze traveled around the room as if searching for an escape, but there were no windows and no other doors.
The radio crackled as if a voice was about to come on the line, but no one did.
A low thud made us turn our heads, and the tapestry on the opposite wall wrinkled, the woven boat at sea moving as if lifted by an eerie wave.
Cait turned her gun toward it.
Lachlan reached over with his good arm to pin Pearce’s shoulders against the wall, but it was no longer necessary.
Pearce’s knees buckled and his back slid down the wallpaper until he sat on the floor. “What . . . is happening . . . to me?” he asked.
The tapestry continued to move.
I reached for a knife in my clutch, my entire body tensing.
The wave under the tapestry moved to the left edge, then the fabric dropped flat to the wall again as a man emerged.
It was Graham.
He stared at the four of us, his eyes wide as his gaze locked on mine in horror. “I knew it was you,” he said softly. He raised his voice to Cait. “Put down that gun! And you!” he said, looking to Lachlan for an explanation. “Why?!”
Lachlan shook his head, at a loss for words.
“It isn’t what it looks like,” I said, still trying to gather how he’d suddenly appeared in the room like this.
