“Wait!” Alex protested in defense of her boss. “He didn’t attack me. I was afraid, so I ran, but…but he could have been hurt,” she said guiltily, “and just trying to get me to help him.”
“Alex,” John said seriously, “you know that you’re the one the killer really wants. It was your name Daniel Fuller mentioned over and over again. Are you sure you don’t know why?”
She felt David’s tension, his fingers tightening around hers. She knew what he was thinking. If you actually know something, for God’s sake, keep quiet now!
He might have decided to trust John Seymore, but John’s question had set off sparks of suspicion in his mind once again.
So why did she trust David so implicitly? Maybe he had been so determined to save her because he, too, believed she knew something.
“I don’t have a clue. He never talked to me about the Anne Marie. Ever. He rambled on, told lots of stories about the sea, and he loved the dolphins. That’s all I know,” she said. Her words rang with sincerity, as they should have. They were true.
“Well, hard to hide anything on a dolphin,” David said. He was staring at John Seymore. Sizing him up again?
“What do we do now?” she murmured.
As if in answer, the wind howled louder.
“Wait out the storm,” John said.
“You have a gun,” Alex said, pointing at John. “The doors lock. We can just wait until someone comes from the main island, until the sheriff gets here. Even if the killer comes after us, well…there are three of us, not counting Len, and one of him.”
“Or two,” David said grimly.
John cocked his head toward David. “You think Hank and Jay are in on this together?”
“I don’t think anything. I’m just trying to consider all the possibilities,” David said.
“Once the storm is over, we can’t really sit around waiting to be attacked, anyway,” John said.
“Why not?” Alex asked.
“Because,” David said, not looking at her but at John Seymore, “even if Nigel was the first one to show up after the storm, he could be shot and killed before he ever got to us. If only one man is behind this, it’s likely the other one is dead already. And we know the killer’s armed.”
“We need a plan,” John murmured.
“Whatever the plan, Alex stays here,” David said. “Locked in, when we go out.”
“Great. I’ll be a sitting duck,” Alex murmured.
“Locked in,” David repeated sternly.
“And what are you two going to do?” she demanded. “This isn’t a big island, but there are all kinds of nooks and crannies where someone could hide. How are you going to find him—or them?”
“Well, we’ve got a few hours to figure it out,” John said grimly. “No one will be moving anywhere in this wind.”
Toward dawn, Alex actually drifted off, her head on David’s shoulder. He was loathe to move her, not just for the silky feel of her head against him, but for the trust she had displayed by allowing her eyes to close while she was next to him.
Trust, or exhaustion.
“It’s over,” John said.
Seymore hadn’t dozed off. Neither had David. They had stared at one another throughout the night. Now it was morning, and the storm was over.
They had their plan.
David roused Alex. “Hey,” he said softly.
She jerked awake, eyes wide.
“We’re going,” he told her. “Remember, you don’t open the door to anyone once we’ve gone. Not John, and not me.”
“I don’t like this,” she protested. “The sheriff could be far more prepared than either of you think. He’s not a bumpkin. You should both stay put, right where you are. That leaves us as three against one, remember?” She was pleading, she realized.
“You’ll be all right if you just stay locked in,” David said.
“I’m not worried about me, you idiot!” she lashed out. “I’m worried about the two of you. Going out as if you—”
“Alex, let us do this,” John said.
“Don’t forget, no one—no one—comes in,” David warned her sternly again. This was going to be difficult for Alex, he knew. She was accustomed to being the one in charge, accustomed to action.
And they were asking her to just sit tight.
“I’ve got it,” she said wearily. “I heard you. But I still don’t understand what the two of you are going to do.”
“We’re going back together for the speargun,” David said. “Then John is going to watch the trail, and I’m going to wait at your cottage.”
“You know, whoever this is could come here and we could ambush him. Or them,” she tried.
“Alex, he—or they—may never realize we came to this cottage,” David said. “In fact, we’re praying that he doesn’t.”
He got to his feet. John joined him. He reached a hand down to Alex, drawing her to her feet and against him. His voice was husky when he said, “No one.” He moved his fingers against her nape, sudden paralysis gripping his stomach.
Seymore looked away.
David kissed Alex. Briefly. But tenderly.
“Follow us to the door and bolt it immediately, don’t just lock it,” John told Alex. “If it’s Jay, he’s got a master key.”
“Bolts, on both doors,” David said. “Front and back.”