Chapter 9: The Rescue That Wasn't

The boat was a grey inflatable with a big outboard, and it had no markings at all.

Abel saw that before I did.

"No coast guard stripe," he said. "No orange. No light bar."

"Maybe it's a private charter," Rhys said.

"Maybe it's a duck."

Rhys looked at me.

I had already picked up Junie.

"The cellar," he said. "Now. Take the pouch. Don't come out unless I call you."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find out what Veda sent."

"Rhys."

"I'll be careful." He gave me a crooked smile, the first I'd seen in days. "I have people to come home to."

I ran up the hill with the baby and the pouch and Abel limping behind me, and we went down into the cellar.

Abel pulled the oak door nearly shut.

Through the gap I could see a slice of the beach in the red evening light.

The inflatable ran up on the sand, and two men in black dry suits jumped out.

One was tall with a shaved head.

The other was a stocky man with a rifle slung across his back.

Rhys walked down to meet them with his hands open.

I couldn't hear most of it, only the shape of it.

The tall one spoke first, with a friendly wave.

"Mr. Vandeleur! Thank God. Ms. Lorne sent us."

"She's very thoughtful," Rhys said.

"We're here to take you off. Your wife and the baby, sir. Where are they?"

"Brisbane," Rhys said. "Surely you know that."

The tall man's smile held a half second too long.

"Right. Sure. Of course. Come aboard, sir. The boat's fueled."

"I'd like to see the island first."

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