had been left inside the gas cap as promised. It had that new car smell, overheated by being left in the sun, that reminded him of vacations he had taken as a kid.
Driving out through the main gate, he headed north twenty-five miles up US-1 to Little Torch Key. At Pirates Road, he pulled into the parking lot for Little Palm Island Resort. He checked in at the thatch-roofed welcome station and was put on the next motor launch for the island. He was the only guest aboard.
He had always loved Little Palm Island, because the only way to get there was by boat or seaplane. Sitting on the rear deck of the launch, he once again closed his eyes.
Suddenly, he felt a lot more charitable toward those SEALs who had foresworn cold winters for more tropical climes. Cutting through the open water, sea spray on his face, this was something he could see himself getting used to.
A pretty young crew member, tan, blonde, and in her twenties, appeared from the wheelhouse and brought him a freshly made rum concoction on a silver tray.
Thanking her and settling back with his cocktail, he looked out at the setting sun as it began its slow descent toward the horizon. This was definitely something he could get used to.
When the boat pulled up to the dock at Little Palm Island, he was met by one of the staff, who welcomed him back and led him to his West Indies–style bungalow, all of its doors and windows open wide to the breeze. Harvath recognized it immediately. It was the same room he had stayed in last time.
An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne had been placed on the coffee table. And even though his reservation had been for one, there were two glasses.
It seemed sad being in such a beautiful spot all alone. That must have been what the waiter had thought as he or she was setting everything up. One glass was sad, final. A second glass offered promise, possibility.
Removing the foil and unwinding the cage, he opened the champagne and poured himself a glass.
Sitting upon the luggage rack at the foot of the bed was the suitcase Sloane had been kind enough to pack for him and ship down. He opened it, interested to see what she had packed, but it was empty. The staff had already hung his clothes and put everything away.
Crossing to the closet, he opened the doors and looked inside. As with his clothes for the funeral, she had been kind, packing good, conservative staples. She had also packed his running shoes, and in the dresser, he saw that she had included his workout clothes.
He was about to take his champagne out to the terrace when he noticed a large padded envelope sitting on the desk. There was nothing written on it, but he assumed that it had been among the items the staff had unpacked for him from his suitcase. Setting his glass down, he opened it.
For a moment, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Inside was the framed, silver picture of Lara from his bedroom back in Virginia.
There she stood, on his dock, in her sundress, with a glass of white wine in her hand.
It was the same image of her that had come to him after he had fallen through the ice in Russia. Lara, in that same sundress, with that same glass of wine, had beckoned him to the safety and life-saving warmth of the trapper’s cabin.
Looking at it now, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was once again trying to save his life.
Whatever it was that she was trying to tell him, he now had plenty of time to listen.
Picking up the picture, and his glass, he headed outside. The sun was almost low enough to touch the water. He wanted to watch it disappear. Then he wanted to start thinking about what he was going to do next.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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I want to start out by thanking the most wonderful people in the writing process—you, the readers. You make all of the hard work worth it. Thank you for reading my books and for telling people about them.
Next, I want to thank the exceptional booksellers, who not only ignite passion for reading, but also fan the flames. You are gateways to incredible adventures, and I thank you for bringing my books and readers together.
As with every novel, I save this space to thank the courageous men and women