Jeff Abbott - Black Joint Point

‘How’d you get out of the handcuffs?’

‘I found a little wrench under the sink. Had to pull it to me with my toes. Stoney probably left it there the last time he fixed a faucet. He never puts up his crap. So I used it to hammer the lock, finally broke it, and while I’m trying, Jupiter went aground. I’m sweating bullets. I’m thinking, God, am I sinking? I smash the cuffs, get out, see that I’ve run aground on a little oyster-shell beach, on a little strip of island not far off the Intracoastal. I could see a freighter in the distance, heading down toward Corpus. Zack tore all the wires out of the satellite phone and the radio. I was so ready to be off that boat, thinking maybe you could still be rescued. I just got into the water and swam. Halfway to shore I’m thinking, maybe I could have stayed on the boat, set off a flare. I was just mental. Reached Encina Pass.’ He squeezed her. ‘Claudia. I thought for sure…’

‘I know.’ She kissed him then, and he was gentle, like he couldn’t quite believe she was there.

He let the kiss linger and then said, ‘My brother.’

‘They’ll find him.’ She sat up. ‘I want to talk to you about your brother.’

‘Zack. Or his friends. They must have gone after Stoney for the money.’

‘Your brother knew we had been kidnapped, Ben. He didn’t call the police. He didn’t tell anyone.’

‘They said they would kill us, Claudia.’

‘Did he or did he not refuse to pay ransom?’

Ben’s mouth worked. ‘My brother wouldn’t do that to us.’

‘Danny said the next morning that Stoney had agreed to a trade, thinking you were with Danny and me. So I’m assuming he hadn’t paid a ransom the day before.’

‘Stoney said his computer systems were down, he couldn’t do the transfer. Claudia, my brother’s not some cold-blooded monster. You can’t believe this of him.’

‘I know you love your brother, Ben…’

‘You heard him, didn’t you? You heard him repeat back the account numbers for the transfer, Claud. But he didn’t have this imaginary emerald that Danny wanted. Danny was fucking nuts, you know that.’

‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘But your brother didn’t call the police. At any point.’

‘The kidnappers took him before he could.’

‘A judge – my friend Whit Mosley – saw him Friday morning at his house. Looking like hell. What if there’s no virus, Ben? He didn’t want to move the five million…’

‘No. He couldn’t move the money. He must’ve been waiting to hear from the kidnappers again. Zack’s friends grabbed him. It’s the best explanation. You don’t believe what Danny said, do you?’

‘I honestly don’t know what to think about Stoney.’

‘My brother-’ Ben’s voice broke.

‘If I’m wrong, I’m sorry. I hope to God I’m wrong.’

‘Stoney loves me.’

She said nothing.

‘He was afraid they would hurt us if he called the police.’ Trying to convince himself, convince her.

‘Ben, Gar knew I was a cop. He called me Officer.’

Ben stared down at the sheets covering his lap.

‘Did you tell them I was a cop?’

‘No.’

‘Did your brother?’

‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore, please. My brother isn’t a bad guy, Claudia. We don’t know the truth yet.’ He moved slightly away from her on the bed.

He was too deep in denial. ‘I care about you,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you hurt.’ He didn’t look at her and she felt the little gap grow. ‘Ben…’

He let go of her hand; she took his hand in answer, squeezed hard.

‘Don’t say these things about my brother.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You need your rest.’ She kissed his forehead. ‘I’m going to go for a while so you can sleep, all right? You need sleep.’

Ben said nothing and she went to the door.

‘Claudia?’ Ben’s voice, small, low.

‘Yeah?’

‘If he didn’t refuse to pay the ransom… they came and took him, didn’t they? They just don’t give up on five million, not when there’s another option to get it.’

‘I hope not, Ben.’

‘I mean, did he not think we were worth five million? He could have made it back in a few years, the way he worked, the deals he cut. God, I’m his brother.’

‘Maybe they took him, Ben.’ Odd, her tone of hoping that a guy got kidnapped, that it could be a remotely positive thing.

‘But if he can’t get to his money,’ Ben said, ‘won’t they kill him?’

Ben was staying at the hospital, at least through the day. Claudia, tired but hating the sterile walls and wanting her own bed, checked herself out around noon. Her mother, Tina, accompanied her home, fussing the whole way, fluffing pillows, fixing a pan of chicken enchiladas and a plate of chocolate chip cookies that Claudia uncharacteristically had no appetite for. Claudia went to go lie down on her bed, trying not to think about how Stoney could betray Ben so completely. She was still exhausted and she catnapped, loving the feel of her own pillows, sheets, the solidity of the bed. She didn’t like thinking about the water, with nothing but the depths beneath her feet.

A knock on the door woke her; Tina entered with a thick envelope. ‘Something from work. The officer said you asked for it. Sweetie, I don’t want you working, tiring yourself out.’

‘That’s okay, Mama.’ Claudia sat up. ‘Put it on the bed. I’ll look at it in a minute.’

Her mother did, doused the lights again.

Claudia waited. Mama was exhausted, worn out from staying up most of the night fretting over her. Fifteen minutes later she glanced into the small den. Tina Salazar lay on the couch, snoring softly. Claudia covered her with a light blanket, went back to her room, and opened the file. She’d asked the Port Leo PD to get her what they could find from the New Orleans PD on Danny Laffite and his suspected associates in the kidnapping. She began to read.

Alex had stayed away from Stoney for the morning, sleeping a little later in his new, no-better motel room, dreaming of his dad, the two of them diving for treasure in the shallow waters off the Keys. He hadn’t slept well; someone had knocked on his door at some point near midnight, waking him instantly, and he’d crept to the door with his gun in hand, finally peering through the peephole. No one there. He could hear teenagers laughing down the hall – probably just kids. But it unsettled his sleep and he didn’t go back for a while, wondering how to best get his sick father to Costa Rica without attracting too much attention.

He got up, showered, dressed, turned on the local Saturday morning TV news. All Stoney – the missing financier. Nothing on Danny Laffite, though, nothing on the murders at Black Jack Point. But still. He needed to get moving. And he needed to take some precautions.

He drove the van over to the big grocery near the Port Leo harbor. It was a chain superstore, an H-E-B, the megachain in Texas, and the store was pink. Coral pink, the whole building, like all they sold was Pepto-Bismol. He slipped on sunglasses and a Marlins cap and went inside – it was busy, full of retirees and young babies, families, Mexicans, Vietnamese, Anglos, sunburned Yankees asking where the juice was in their nasal whines. He bought some doughnuts, a coffee, a small milk, and a box of hair coloring. Time for a change. Go punkish blond, cut the hair short, dump the van at the Corpus airport. The cashier looked a little funny at him, a guy buying blond hair coloring, but bagged it up with the food and took his money.

Alex was halfway across the parking lot when he saw Helen Dupuy.

She was walking toward the store just out of a truck – an old beat-up red truck, walking with a monster of a guy. Big-built, freak-ugly face, military burr of dark hair. And he thought she might have seen him, just two rows over, if she hadn’t been looking up all goggle-eyed at this freak.