Flood Rising (Jenna Flood #1)

“They’re looking for me now,” Jenna went on. “They think I can lead them to their money.”


Jenna thought it sounded contrived, but maybe that was because she knew it was a falsehood. Or is it? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure anymore. What if Mercy had gotten it wrong? Maybe Noah had been involved in something illegal? Maybe the attack on the boat had been some kind of organized crime vendetta? The fact that she could not easily dismiss the notion ate at Jenna’s resolve like a cancer. I have to know the truth. I have to get to Noah’s fire alarm.

Carlos had heard only one word, and he repeated it almost breathlessly. “Money?”

She let the seed of the idea germinate in silence as she allowed herself to be drawn closer to the shining headlights. What she needed to do next would work better if she could see their faces, though she was in no hurry to get closer to the waiting airplane. When she could finally look her tormentors in the eyes, she elaborated. “A lot of money. Noah hid it somewhere in the ‘Glades.”

Carlos gestured for Raul to release Jenna, and then he gripped her arms and held her so he could study her face. She realized that he was using the same lie detecting techniques she had—reading eye movements to detect intention and duplicity—and she made a willful effort to control her reactions. The look of fear came easily enough. Then she tapped into the possibilities of what Noah might have concealed in Homestead, making her fabrication feel authentic, even to herself.

“How much?”

Jenna shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot, I guess. Enough to kill for.” She looked up as if hit by a lightning bolt of inspiration. “I’ll take you to it, if you let me go.”

Carlos shook his head. “Why don’t you just tell me where it is? If it’s there, then maybe we can make a deal.”

His eyes did not betray the lie she knew he was telling. He had no intention of letting her go. Nevertheless, she smiled as if she believed him. “I can’t tell you exactly how to get there. I’d have to show you. But it’s all yours if you want it. Just promise to let me go.”

Raul was shaking his head, looking at the screen of his smartphone. He held it up, revealing a news report about shots being fired at the marina. “This is messed up, hermano. Her story is legit. Someone killed the old guy because of it. That’s heat we don’t need.”

Carlos ignored his brother. “The Everglades. That’s pretty vague. Narrow it down for me.”

“If you promise to let me go.” Jenna needed him to believe that she was desperate enough to trust his word.

“I don’t make promises like that, little girl. But I promise that if you’re screwing with me, you’re going to wish we’d just stuck to the plan and sold your ass. Now, where in the ‘Glades?”

“Near Homestead.” She let her lip quiver a little, as if she wanted to say more but knew better. Carlos snapped his fingers in a ‘tell me more’ gesture, but she just shook her head.

He stared at her a moment longer, then turned to Raul. “Get your car off the runway.”

It took Jenna a moment to comprehend the significance of this. “We’re flying?”

“We can be at Homestead in less than an hour by air,” Carlos replied. He didn’t seem irritated by the question, but when he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the airplane, his forcefulness silenced her. He shoved her onto the plane’s wing and opened the door that lay just above it. “Get in.”

She complied, squirming through the opening into the claustrophobic confines of the cabin. It was her first time in any kind of aircraft. She had expected it to be more spacious, but then she could not have imagined that her first flight would be under these circumstances. As she settled into a seat just behind the cockpit, she surveyed every detail of her environment like a general studying a battlefield in anticipation of a fight. As a last resort, she was prepared to crash the plane by attacking the pilot—presumably Carlos—on take-off or landing.

She thought she might even survive.

Jenna wondered why the brothers had been looking for charter boats to make smuggling runs for them if they had a plane and knew how to fly it. Maybe they were trying to distribute the risk?

Carlos waited outside until Raul returned, then both brothers climbed inside. Carlos got into the cockpit and fiddled with various instruments. Raul took a seat across from Jenna, his eyes never leaving her.

So much for the kamikaze plan, she thought. Her chances would probably be better once they reached Homestead. It would be easier for her to create an opportunity to escape in the unfamiliar territory of the Everglades, especially since she would be leading the way.

As the engines roared to life, it occurred to her that, when they did get to Homestead, she would have only one chance to turn the tables on her captors. She had about sixty minutes to figure out just how she was going to do that.





17



Homestead, Florida, USA

Sunday, 1:04 a.m.