Page 65 of Emi's Hero

“The hell I will.” Emi unclipped her belt and pushed her door open.

“We might have to climb over a fence to get inside.”

“Then I’ll climb a fence.” She exited the car and met him at the right rear fender. “Once we get in position, I’ll stay out of sight.”

He didn’t like that she would be close enough to Warren that if anything went wrong, he could get his hands on her.

But if he left her in the car, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her. Anything could happen, and he wouldn’t be there to protect her. “Come on,” he said and jogged toward the club.

They slipped through a gap in the fence and waited for Warren to show up.

Emi still held the tracker in her hand. “He’s headed this way and should be at the front gate of the club right now.”

As they watched, the dot on the screen moved away from the yacht club and back out to Ala Moana Boulevard.

“What the hell?” George exclaimed as his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

“Are you seeing this?” Hawk asked.

“Yes, he’s moving away.”

Emi touched George’s arm. “Someone is coming through the gate.”

George looked up in time to see the light at the gate shining down on Vincent Warren. He’d removed the jacket and only wore the polo shirt. Into the phone, he said. “Warren must have removed his jacket in the vehicle. He’s here at the dock with no tracker on his person.”

“We need a tracker on him to know which way he’s going,” Hawk said.

“I know.” George felt in his pocket for the little disk he still had. “I’ll get it on him.”

“How?” Hawk asked.

“I don’t know. Just be ready when I do.” George ended the call and gripped Emi’s arms. “You have to stay here.”

Already, she was shaking her head. “I want to go where you go.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t. I need to know you’re safe. If I’m worried about you, I won’t focus on what needs to be done, and then we’re both in danger.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get close enough to drop this tracking device on Warren’s boat.” He captured her gaze and held it in the glow of the lights of the marina. “If anything happens to me, go back to the rental car, drive away from here and call Hawk. He’ll come get you.”

George handed her his cell phone. “If all goes well, I won’t be too long.”

Emi’s brow furrowed. “But Warren saw you with me.”

“He saw a man in a tan jacket,” George said as he unzipped and shed the jacket, exposing the faded T-shirt beneath. “He didn’t see a man in a Nirvana T-shirt.” He reached up and ruffled his hair, making a thick lock fall down over his forehead. “Promise me you’ll stay here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, I’ll need you to get to Hawk. I’ll have the tracker on me. He will find me. Promise?”

She nodded. “I promise.”

George cupped the back of her head and kissed her long and hard, then he left her and walked out onto the dock in the direction Warren had gone, hurrying to catch up.

He thought he’d lost him when he saw lights blink on in a yacht five slips ahead on the right.

George pulled his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans and staggered toward the yacht, singing as loudly as he could.

“Ninety-six bottles of beer on the wall...” He let out a loud belch and continued, “Ninety-six bottles of beer. Take one down, pass is around...Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. No, wait, that’s not right.” He stopped at Warren’s yacht, where the crew was preparing the craft to leave the slip.

“Where was I?” George looked down at his fingers as if he could count to ninety-nine on them. “Was it ninety-nine or ninety-seven?” He belched again and swayed toward the yacht, faked losing his balance and dropped down on the back deck. “Whoa, dude. Watch the first step. It’s a fuckin’ doozy.”

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