Sand. She was lying on … sand. Darkness. Palm trees. She could hear the ocean’s surf close by. She must be on the island.
Yes, there was a speedboat anchored a short distance away, and three men standing, watching Santos. She recognized one as the man she’d kicked. The other two she didn’t remember.
How long had she been here? Had Cameron had time to get around to the other side of the island yet?
Ask.
“I don’t remember anything after I was struck on the head. How long have I been here?”
“Too long. A couple hours. I thought Pablo might have spoiled everything. I couldn’t wake you.”
“I could have shot her.” One of the men stepped forward. “I only hit her.”
“Shut up, Pablo,” Santos said. “I wanted her to be clearheaded and able to appreciate everything I’m going to do to her. Go on up to the tomb and wait for me.”
She watched the man scurry up the beach. “Two hours. He must have hit me very hard. Though I’m sure you were ever so gentle about bringing me around.”
He hit her again.
Two hours. It could be long enough for Cameron. She would have to see.
“You’re suddenly very quiet,” Santos said softly. “Are you feeling how alone you are? All your friends, and none of them can help you now.” He reached down, grabbed her arm, and jerked her to her feet.
“At least I have friends,” she said. “You have no one, Santos. No one cares whether you live or die.”
“They care. Because I’m the one who says whether they live or die.” He pushed her down the beach toward a path winding beneath the overhanging palms. “But now it’s time for me to take you to Delores. You’ve kept her waiting. I meant to have more time with you on my own, but you’ve spoiled that.” He shrugged. “Oh, well, perhaps I’ll enjoy it even more thinking how she would feel when I begin on you. Delores was always more imaginative than I was when it came to discipline. She could stretch punishment out for days, and she would try so many new toys…”
“I’m sure that she was everything you say she was.” She gave him a cool glance. “And I couldn’t be happier that I blew her away. I wish she were alive, so that I could do it again.”
Rage. Twisting, ugly, rage that contorted his features. “She is alive,” he hissed. “You’ll see. You couldn’t kill her. You’re not good enough. She fooled you. She fooled everyone. She’s alive. She’s only waiting.”
“You’re crazy,” she said. “And Delores was just as crazy to lead you down the path toward such a bizarre scheme. It’s all pretense and lies, and you can’t even see it.”
“Pretense? Lies? Was it a lie when I showed you that photo of your son? You didn’t think so. I could sense your fear. Delores would have loved that moment.” He smiled. “As she’ll love the moment when I give the order for your Luke to be shot.”
She stiffened. “I’m here. I’m the one you want.”
“But I have to feel your pain. You keep it so well hidden that it takes a great deal to make you reveal it.”
“That was a freak incident when Luke was targeted. Hu Chang takes good care of him. He’ll find the man you’ve planted outside my home stalking Luke. I’ve told him not to let my son leave the house for a while. It might never happen again.”
Santos laughed. “No? You think he’s just skulking in the shadows and dodging your people? That photo was taken through a window while Luke was in his bedroom. I have a shooter in the attic of an old Victorian house over a thousand feet away. Donald Lambell is an expert marksman I hired in Iraq and he answers only to me. I didn’t even trust Dorgal to know about him.”
Panic raced through her. Oh, God, and the fact that they’d told Hu Chang to keep Luke inside had actually set him up for the shooter.
Don’t let Santos see the fear that was tearing at her. He was waiting for a reaction. Don’t give it to him. “And I thought that you and Dorgal were soul mates. Both tarred by the same brush.”
“Delores never trusted him. Why should I? She’s the one who hired Lambell in case I ever had to use him to take Dorgal out if he becomes too troublesome.” He smiled. “So you can see, Lambell is my ace in the hole. If Dorgal’s men can’t make the hit, Lambell will do it. I called him last night and told him to be ready for the kill. So all your safety measures are going to be for nothing. As soon as I give the word, he’s going to blow your Luke’s handsome head off.”
Catherine felt sick. He was so terribly certain.
And he could see what she was feeling in spite of every effort to keep it from him. “Yes, that’s what I want from you. Horror. Your worst nightmare. No more photos. I might just let you get a Skype shot when he pulls the trigger. What a terrible feeling. And you wouldn’t be able to give him his chance to live, as I gave Delores. No Dr. Montez for your son. No chance for him. No chance for you. It gives you a different perspective, doesn’t it?”
“It makes me wonder if there’s a hell that’s horrible enough for God to send you to.” She swallowed. “It won’t happen. You’ll fail, Santos.”
“Shall I take out my phone and give the word?”
She didn’t answer.
“You’re frightened. I like that. But I’ll wait until we’re with Delores to kill the boy. She was always one to appreciate the turn of the knife.”
“She’s dead, dammit.”
“Only in your eyes. But you may change your mind when you see her.” He gestured up the hill. “You see that granite tomb? Isn’t it splendid? The finest black granite, the doors crafted of Italian bronze. Everything about it is meant to be a frame for a queen. My queen. You were so interested in Montez and what he was doing for me. Now you can see for yourself.”
“Montez is here?”
“Of course. I would have had him killed in Guatemala if I hadn’t wanted him as an insurance policy for Delores.”
“And for you.”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “But I have no intention of needing his services.”