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“If something does happen to me, I want you to make sure Jolie is released. No one can lock me up for her abduction if I’m already dead.”
“They can lock me up for aiding and abetting,” she pointed out.
“Jolie won’t say anything. I told her that your daughter was one of the women her father killed.”
Her expression hardened. “Why did you do that?”
“She needed to know. If I’m going to get her to cooperate with my plans back on the mainland, she needed to be able to understand the reasons behind your hatred for her.”
“And yours. You hated her, too. Far more than I ever did. You told me what she’d done, and I agreed to help you.”
I nodded. “I know that. I’m just trying to explain that Jolie will forgive you for your part in this. You won’t need to worry about her. She can lay all the blame on me if I’m dead.”
“She was always the enemy, Hayden. Why does it feel as though you’re starting to take her side?”
“Because I have to. It’s better this way. She hates her father as much as we do.”
“I highly doubt that,” she snapped.
“You’d be surprised.”
Loretta shook her head. “Don’t trust her, sir.”
I didn’t know why I was defending Jolie all the time. Loretta had already picked up that there was something between us, and she didn’t even know the half of it. I was starting to regret getting Loretta involved. But I’d needed her in case something happened to me, and I still needed her.
I swallowed my irritation. “I hear you, Loretta. I’m doing what I have to, not what I want to. Now please, just watch over her while I’m gone. I hope to not be much more than a couple of hours.”
She was holding her true thoughts back from me, but I was grateful for that.
“I’m worried about you, sir. She’s not good for you.”
There was genuine concern in her voice, but I didn’t want to hear it.
Instead, I turned from her and went up to my bedroom to where I kept the keys for the boat locked away in the safe. My swim shorts had a pocket with a zipper at the waistband for keeping valuables which I’d put the keys in. One of the flotation aids I’d used to swim back from the boat during the storm was the kind lifeguards use that strap to a wrist. I’d left them all on the beach near the jetty, thrown to the sand as I’d stalked back up the beach in search of Jolie. I hoped it would still be there and not washed back into the ocean, but I wouldn’t know until I went down and checked.
I changed my jeans for my shorts and kept my t-shirt on. It was a far more relaxed look than I normally went for, but I was doing the exact opposite of relaxing. I unzipped the pocket in the shorts and put the keys for the boat inside before zipping them back up again. They’d be safe in there. The last thing I needed was for them to fall out while I was swimming and sink to the ocean floor. If I reached the boat only to find myself without the keys, I’d be no further ahead than when Jolie had set me adrift.
I headed back downstairs again. I half expected Loretta to try to stop me, but she was nowhere to be seen. I hoped I’d gotten through to her. I didn’t like someone second guessing me, and it definitely wasn’t her place.
Moving at a brisk walk, I left the house via the pool and navigated my way through the forest of palms. I followed the same route Jolie had taken when she’d tried to escape the other night, and though it was the middle of the day now, memories bombarded me. I had been frightened that night—an emotion I wasn’t familiar with—but it hadn’t been fear for myself. Instead, I’d been frightened that she’d get herself hurt or killed, and there was nothing I could do about it. It was an impotent kind of fear, a helplessness, and I didn’t like feeling helpless.
I pushed my way through the trees and bushes, heading down toward the cove with the jetty. Though I was under time pressure, worried the boat would drift farther away and I wouldn’t be able to either see it, or it would be too far away for me to realistically swim to, I didn’t want to run. The swim was going to take a lot out of me, and I didn’t want to use up what energy I had by running across the island.
The glint of white sand and the blue of the ocean peeped through the tree trunks. I thought I’d have become immune to the beauty of this place, but still my heart lifted at the sight. I hated to think that after all this was over I may never see this place again. Instead, the blue skies and sound of waves crashing on shore would be replaced with gray walls and the slamming of cell doors. That was okay. I’d made my peace with it. I’d had a good run while it had lasted, and being jailed for the murder of Patrick Dorman was something I could live with. Knowing he still existed in this world, even if it was behind bars, was not. I wanted to see him die and for him to know the reason for his death. I wanted to say my mother’s name and watch his eyes widen in fear and understanding, right before I killed him.
I stepped onto the sand and looked around. I hadn’t paid much attention as to where I’d thrown down the buoyancy aids the other night, but I remembered hitting the shore after my draining swim and crawling partway up the beach, my limbs shaking with exertion, coughing up water and half blind from the salt in my eyes. I hadn’t given any thought to taking them off at first—I’d only wanted to put distance between myself and the ocean, not wanting another wave to crash over me and drag me out to sea. Only when I’d made it part way up the beach did I realize the lifejacket and buoyancy aid that had probably saved my life were now slowing me down, and I’d torn them from my body as I’d kept going, and thrown them onto the sand. There was a good chance I hadn’t gotten past the highwater mark at that point, and they’d been swept back out to sea by the tide. If that was the case, then I’d have to make the swim without them.
I kept looking. Numerous objects had been washed up by the storm and were now tangled together on the highwater line—fishing nets, several mismatching flipflops, empty plastic bottles, and soda cans made up only a fraction of the detritus. I pressed my lips together, trying to push down my emotional reaction to the mess. It was all over the news about how plastic was ruining our oceans, but it was a whole other thing to see it for myself. In amongst the mess, I spotted something orange and hurried over to it. Tangled among fishing nets and torn plastic bags was the buoyancy aid. I bent and picked it up. It even still had the strap attached which allowed me to fasten it to my wrist.
This was all I needed. I’d swim faster without the vest, and it wasn’t as though the conditions were the same as the previous night.
Tucking the buoyancy aid under my arm, I kept going. I needed to make my way over to the other side of the island where I’d first spotted the boat, check it was still there, and then head down to the cove where I’d be able to swim out from. The areas around the cliffs were dangerous, and I couldn’t risk trying to get into the sea from there. Though the ocean appeared calm from here, all it would take was one rogue wave to throw me onto the rocks, and I could be seriously injured. Once again, I was more worried about what would happen to Jolie if something happened to me than for my own safety.
It felt as though I’d been hiking forever, but finally I reached the spot where I’d seen the boat out to sea earlier that day. I’d been worried it would have drifted farther out, but from what I could tell, it seemed to be in about the same place.
I stripped off my t-shirt and dropped it to the sand, and then toed off my sneakers. The hot sun hit my bare skin, and though I was hot from my hike across the island, I appreciated the heat for the moment. It may take me an hour or more to reach the boat, and by that point, the cold of the ocean would have leached right down to my bones. Pressing my palm against the pocket in my waistband, I felt the bulge of the keys for the boat, reassuring myself they were still there. I checked the zipper one last time, making sure it was fully closed, and then wrapped the Velcro strap of the buoyancy aid around my wrist. I’d drag it along behind me as I swam, and though it would slow me down slightly, it was there in case of emergencies.
I stalked down into the shallows. The cold water hit my shins, and I tried not to flinch at the temperature. I was hot, so I was feeling the difference more acutely. I just needed to submerge my whole body, and I’d soon acclimatize. Pushing through the breaking waves, I strode into the ocean. As soon as I was deep enough, I dove forward, submerging myself beneath the waves. I burst back up, shaking the water from my hair and face. The coldness, after the heat of trekking across the island, was refreshing for the moment, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way.
