There had to be a way to double back and find a place to hide and weather the storm.
Alex ran along the path toward the beach, then swore. There was no branch in the trail here, but if she crawled through the foliage, she could reach one of the other paths. All too aware that someone was following and not far behind, she caught hold of an old pine tree and used it for balance as she entered into the overgrowth.
Already, much of it was flattened. Even if she had found a path, it wouldn’t have been worth much. The storm had brought down hundreds of palm fronds already. Coconuts, mangoes, and other fruits littered the ground. She tried to move carefully, then paused, wondering if she had lost her pursuer.
She stood very still, listening.
She could hear the sea. The storm might not be on them again yet, but the water was far from smooth. She could hear the waves crashing, could imagine them, white capped and dangerous. And beneath the water’s surface, the sand and currents would be churning with a staggering strength.
Had the wind begun to pick up again yet?
Footsteps.
Whoever had been behind her was pursuing her now with slow deliberation, as if he was able to read the signs of her trail in the dark. Maybe he could.
Who was he? Had Jay been an enemy, just waiting in the darkness, or a victim? If not Jay, who could it be?
She froze in place, stock-still with indecision. Which way to go?
There was a rushing in her ears. Her own pulse. She ignored it. She had to listen above it.
Yes, there was another sound in the night. Footsteps, not the beat of her own heart.
Her pursuer. Close. Too close.
As silently as possible, she edged forward, then came to a dead stop once again. There was a new noise, coming from in front of her.
Where to go?
Only one choice.
She headed toward the beach.
She was ahead of him, so close it was as if he could still smell her perfume, on the air. And still she was eluding him.
She knew the island, and he didn’t.
David didn’t dare call out her name. Someone else might hear him. Once again, he damned himself for the bombshell he had dropped that night. Now the killer knew. He had hidden Alicia’s body and now he knew he’d failed a second time. For a moment his mind wandered to the spot where he’d found the body. It wasn’t an area where he had believed it would be found, where dive boats brought scores of people daily, but it wasn’t impossibly far from the beaten path, either.
So what did that mean? What did the placement of the body mean?
He couldn’t worry about it now. He had to use every one of his senses to find Alex.
Before it was too late.
He paused and listened. The rustle of the trees was eerie in the strange breeze that gripped the island. It was as if the storm was gone…and yet still there.
She was moving again. The sound was so slight, he nearly missed it. He started tearing through the bushes again, following.
She was heading for the beach.
He saw her as she raced forward, then stumbled and fell. Seconds later, he burst out of the bushes behind her.
“Alex!”
He saw then what she was seeing. Just feet from her, Len Creighton was facedown in the sand. In the night, David couldn’t make out anything else, whether the man was injured, unconscious…dead.
He couldn’t see Alex’s reaction to her discovery, but he could tell she’d heard him. She was on her feet again, and she was staring at him, and even in the dark, he could see the fear in her eyes.
“Alex!” he cried. “Alex, come here.”
She kept staring at him. As he waited, afraid to move closer, lest she run again, he surveyed the area as best he could in the dark.
Where had Len come from? How had he gotten here?
Where was the danger?
He stared at Alex again. “Alex, you’ve got to trust me. Come with me—now. Quickly!”
He was dimly aware of leaves rustling nearby; he knew someone else had reached them even before he heard a deep voice protest, “No!”
John Seymore. Damn. He’d been on his trail the whole time. Now, David realized, he’d led the bastard right to Alex.
John Seymore stared at David with lethal promise. He had a gun. Apparently he’d been armed all along and never let on. He could kill the other man, and he knew it. But whether or not he could kill him before David sent a spear into his heart was another matter.
“Alex!” Seymore shouted, keeping a wary eye on David. “Come to me. Get away from him.”
“Alex!” David warned sharply.
It seemed as if they stood locked in the eye of time, just as they were locked in the eye of the storm, forever.
Alex stared from one man to the other, and back again. Her gaze slipped down to Len Creighton, who was still lying on the beach, then focused on the two men once again.
Then she turned and dived straight into the water.