Chapter 11

Katie

All through breakfast, which was delicious of course, and another hot, steamy shower, I oscillated between satisfaction and downright fear. I hadn’t had the opportunity to get away from Logan to phone my mother and check in on her. And Marino? God, I’d received two more missed calls from unknown numbers in the interim.

I dressed quickly in one of Logan’s shirts, inhaling his sharp and spicy cologne as I did, then crept to the bathroom door, opened it, and peeked out into the hall.

It was all clear. Logan clanked pots and pans in the kitchen, cleaning up after our meal. He’d insisted I take a bath and relax, that he’d handle calling the hotel and finding out what was going on, but I’d opted for a shower and snuck my phone out of sight.

I clutched it in my fist, breathing hard.

If he caught me… what then? He’d be suspicious. He’d ask questions, and I was inches from breaking and telling him everything because I couldn’t keep it in anymore. And Logan, well, he was good people. The best.

I had a nose for folks—it served me well as a journalist—and he didn’t smell bad. Not in the slightest, though there was still a hint of mystery about him. But that wasn’t an odor I couldn’t place.

“Come on, let’s do this,” I whispered, then slipped out of the bathroom door and hurried down the long hall and into the living room. I slipped the sliding door open, scooched out, and made my break for it.

The sand was warm underfoot from a day under the sun, which was now an orange hazy ball in the sky. It was nearly dusk, not quite there yet, which meant I didn’t have much time. I opened the short gate which let out onto the beach proper and separated Logan’s bungalow from the common property, and hurried toward the water.

A line of palms guarded it, and I hovered beneath them, the cracks and rustles behind me loud in my ears.

I rested my back against a trunk, peered back up at the bungalow, then finally loosened my grip on my now sweat-covered cell and unlocked the screen.

“It’s okay. She’s fine. If she wasn’t fine she would have left you a voicemail and she didn’t, so it’s all okay. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” Even as the words left my mouth, dread settled in my stomach.

But what if she isn’t?

Another noise sounded behind me, and I whipped around, peering between the failing light in the trees, my brow creased. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. No person waiting in the darkness.

Logan had said it was dangerous, and I didn’t doubt him for a second. Marino had an emissary out here, according to the phone conversation I’d overheard, and the crime kingpin likely didn’t hire adorable puppies or cupcake bakers as emissaries.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, then lifted the cellphone and tapped through to my contacts. Mom’s number was one of the only ones on my phone, apart from Samantha—my best friend who just so happened to be climbing Mount Everest this very minute—and a couple of work contacts and sources.

My thumb trembled. I steadied it and dialed.

The ringing was painful, and the knot in my stomach tightened and tightened until it was entirely unbearable.

“Hello?” My mother’s voice came across the line, softly, and I sank to my butt in the sand. My knees hit my chest and I exhaled fast. “Hello? Jinxie, is that you?”

“Mom,” I said, not whispering, but not speaking at the usual volume lest I attract attention. “It’s me. Thank god, I was so worried about you.”

“Worried about me? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since this morning. Are you okay? What happened?”

What’d happened? I’d gotten married in an alcohol or drug-induced state, for one. And for two? I’d started falling for my mark. In short, this was impossible and a disaster all rolled into one.

“Katie? Are you there?”

“I’m here, Mom,” I said. “Sorry, things are just a little complicated right now.”

“Complicated how?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to know that you’re all right. That you’re safe. I won’t be able to focus on anything but that until I do.”

A gravid pause followed.

Somewhere between the trees, a bird called. Animals rustled in the grass.

“Mom?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but the strain in her voice told otherwise. I’d never known her to show her strain. This had to be serious.

“Mom, tell me the truth. What’s going on? Did they contact you?”

“Katie, it’s all right. I can handle things in New York while you’re busy out there. There’s no need to stress. You just concentrate on getting that information about Wright. That’s your task.”

“Mom! Just tell me what happened.”

“Butch went missing,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“What?! They took— No!”

“Don’t worry, he’s back now,” she said. “He went missing last night after we spoke on the phone, but he came back this afternoon, not an hour ago.”

“Oh my god, where was he?”

“They had him,” Mom said, and I didn’t have to ask who she meant. “Katie, he came back to the house with a note attached to his collar.”

“What did it say?”

“I have it right here,” she replied. “I can read it to you.”

I waited, my heart in my throat and sweat trickling down my spine. “Go on, Mom.”

“Next time, the dog won’t come back. He wants the information by tonight at 8 p.m.” Mom cut off and inhaled sharply, the hiss of her breath in my ear the scariest thing I’d heard so far. “Katie, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“There’s an email address written on it too. I think they want you to send the information to it, instead of to the address they provided before,” she continued. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry about this. I should’ve gone instead of you.”

“No,” I said, firmly, shaking my head and scraping my hair against the rough bark of the tree behind me. The beauty of the setting sun on the horizon, the reflection of it on the pale waters, was lost on me. “Mom, this doesn’t make any sense. Why are they changing the rules now? They told us we had seven days to get them the information. It’s been two! This is— It’s impossible.”

“You don’t have anything on him?” Mom asked.

That was beside the point. Perhaps they could use the information about his deep sea fishing or his past in prison against him. Perhaps they could threaten to out his history with his ex and his best friend. God knew what use they’d find for it, but it would mean handing over information about a man I genuinely cared for now.

It’s been two days. This is your mother. Your mother and Butch and the business. It’s your goddamn family on the line!

“I have enough,” I said. “But he’s always watching, and I don’t have my laptop to type any of this up.”

“Huh?! I thought you were at your hotel.”

“Let’s just say, I followed your advice, Mom. I’m sticking really, really close to him.” So close that I’d added another layer of complication to this. I could hardly leave this island still married to this man, but if I didn’t get the information about him to Marino by 8 p.m, and then skip out afterward, my mother would be in worse danger than she was now.

“Honey, I know you can do this,” Mom said. “I’m so sorry all of this has happened.”

“It’s no one’s fault, Mom,” I replied. “What should we have done? Been less successful as journalists so that sleazebag Marino wouldn’t contact us to do the job? No, this is not our fault.”

“Are you going to be okay to do this, honey? Are you safe? I’ll catch a flight and come out there. I’ll—”

“No! Please, stay there. Look after Butch. Actually, Mom, can you do me a huge favor?”

“What, honey? Anything.”

“Can you go stay with Uncle Freddie for a while? Take Butch with you. Just for tonight?”

“Oh, Jinxie, you know that won’t make a difference. That will only endanger your Uncle Freddie and I can’t do that.” Mom was right, of course. She’d always been pragmatic that way. “I’ll batten down the hatches here, and that’s the best I can do.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, squeezed my eyes shut, and let air out of my nostrils. So, this was it. I had to do this. I had to send the information to Marino, no matter how I felt about it or about Logan.

I’d do anything for my mother. Anything for our little family. She’d been there for me through thick and thin. She’d worked two jobs, freelanced at night, and built our little unit up until she could afford to purchase the premises for the magazine and start hiring for the publication.

My mother had sacrificed everything to make sure I’d have a good life. I would do anything for her in return, even if it meant throwing the only man I’d ever felt something real for under the bus.

“Katie, are you all right?”

“Fine,” I managed.

“There’s something you’re not telling me. Spill it.”

“I’m fine, Mom, I promise. I’ve got to go, okay. Just send me Marino’s contact email and I’ll send the information as requested. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey,” Mom said, the words spilling over with sadness. “Butchie loves you too. We’ll see you soon. Think of it this way. The sooner you send the email, the sooner this will all be over.”

“You’re right,” I said, though my heart dropped right through my body and into the sand at the thought. “You’re right, of course. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

I hung up and held the phone in my palm, staring at it instead of the sand. This shouldn’t have been difficult. Apart from the fact that this entire “job” compromised my journalistic integrity, this shouldn’t have eaten at me like this. I shouldn’t have cared this much for a man I barely knew—a man who’d saved me from thugs, who’d cooked dinner for me, and made me feel things I hadn’t thought possible.

“Fuck,” I whispered, just as the text message pinged through on my phone. The email for the deadline, tonight.

God, it was already a quarter past six. I had less than two hours to type up what I knew and send it to Marino. I’d do it on my phone if I had to, since borrowing Logan’s computer or laptop or whatever he had was clearly out of the question.

I can probably do it right here. Type the words and send them off without Logan ever knowing. Then I can go to the front desk and ask them to call me a taxi.

I wouldn’t even have to say goodbye. I wouldn’t have to see his gorgeous, expressive face again. His steel eyes, his broad shoulders, that strong gait and the massive hands. None of it, ever again. So simple.

My fingers didn’t move. I stared at the email on the screen, breathing hard.

“I can’t do—”

Footsteps thumped up behind me, crushing leaves and cracking twigs. My heart jumped back out of the sand and into my throat. I shuffled to my feet, kicking dust up, my grip tightening on the phone, and spun to face whoever it was.