the observation tower caught his eye.
Someone was up there. A lone dark figure, watching over everything with a pair of binoculars.
Was it Jason Freeman? Tom Miller?
Was it Daisy, spotting for her husband?
Dread filled his stomach as he watched the figure move to the edge of the platform. Following the line of sight, Joel zeroed in on the long boardwalk leading to the turtle tanks.
Something moved in the water.
Miranda.
* * *
* * *
She strained to keep her head above water, along with her phone, as she did a frog-like breaststroke toward the tanks. She was almost there. Almost. She scanned the dock for a ladder but didn’t see one. She was going to have to heave herself out of the water. She only hoped she could do it silently.
Miranda’s shoulders ached. Her thighs burned. She inched closer and closer to the covered dock with the big blue tanks.
Something cold brushed her leg, and she gasped, dropping her phone.
Tears burned her eyes. She dunked her head under and felt around, but it was no use. She couldn’t even touch the bottom here. She glanced back at the nature center, a hulking black shadow that seemed miles away. The only light came from a pair of floodlights aimed at the parking lot.
Salt water stung her eyes as she set her sights on the tanks. She was almost there, and she spied a ladder. She swam toward it, unencumbered now except for the pepper spray still gripped in her hand.
Almost there. Almost there. Almost there.
She took a last hard stroke and glided into the ladder. She tucked the tube of pepper spray into her bra and gripped the ladder’s sides. Her foot slipped on the slimy bottom rung, but she hung on and pulled herself up.
She spotted a small skiff tied to the end of the dock. Adrenaline shot through her. Could she use it to get away? But it probably needed a key. And it might have one of those noisy pull-starts. She’d never get it going without drawing attention to herself.
Crouching low, she looked at the nature center. She didn’t see a person or even a shadow. Help was coming, and she just needed to hide and wait. She scurried behind the big blue tank and sank to her knees.
Please be careful, Joel. Please please please. She hoped he’d called backup, and she hoped to hell they didn’t get into a firefight.
Miranda’s gaze landed on the skiff. A life jacket was stowed near the motor, along with something else.
A flare gun.
Not the best weapon, but probably better than the pepper spray in her bra. She crawled across the dock and reached into the boat for the gun.
“Well, well.”
A tall shadow stepped out from behind a post.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
The man walked out from beneath the overhang, and Miranda’s stomach clenched as she got a look at his face. Tom, the groundskeeper. Daisy’s husband.
He pointed a pistol at her face.
“Get in the boat.”
She stared at him.
“Now.” He stepped closer, aiming the gun with a steady hand. “You and me are going for a ride.”
Miranda’s heart clenched, and she thought of her pepper spray. If she turned away from him, maybe she could reach for it.
“Now.”
Miranda scooted over to the boat but didn’t get in.
Tom stepped closer, towering over her now. Something moved behind him, about fifty feet away.
Joel.
Miranda tried not to look at him, tried to focus on Tom and the gun pointed at her as she grabbed the side of the boat and stepped into it.
“Police! Drop it!”
She dove into the water, swimming down down down and holding her breath until her lungs wanted to burst. Still she kept swimming and swimming until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally, she surfaced and turned around.
A pile of bodies at the end of the dock made her heart lurch.
Joel. And Owen and Emmet.
Tom was pinned beneath them as they handcuffed him.
“Miranda!”
Joel did a racing dive off the dock and swam toward her.
She blinked the salt water from her eyes and paddled toward him, spitting and shaking.
“You okay? You hurt?” His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. He lifted her with his hip so she could get her face above water.
“Miranda, talk to me. Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” She gripped his arm. “I’m good.”
* * *
* * *
Lit by a thousand klieg lights, the nature center looked like a high school football stadium on a Friday night. Nicole traipsed across the parking lot to the mobile command center the sheriff had set up. As opposed to last