Page 71 of Island Protector

“We’ll find a way to cope. Money first,” she said. “If Miles wants us to give this bastard a show, that’s what we’ll do.”

At the bank, Sharon and Molly went inside. Sharon chatted with everyone from the customers in line to the teller. She made the withdrawal, making up some nonsense about a cash deal on a new car. Then she popped into the bank manager’s office where she talked about the next book club book for a good five minutes.

Back in the car, they drove home. Molly went straight to the bedroom and cuddled Bryce’s favorite stuffed animal—a teddy bear wearing a life jacket. She cried and hoped and cried some more. She jumped when her alarm chimed for after-school pickup and discovered she had more tears to shed.

As if the kidnapper knew her misery, a text message popped up. It was a new image of Bryce. His tearstained face broke her heart. She ran out to find Sharon, but neither of them could discern anything about his location from the simple gray wall behind her little boy.

Another text scrolled across the screen: Bring the money to the marina now. Come alone. Make a scene and it’s over for the kid.

Sharon gripped her hand. “Go get your son.” She shoved the beach bag full of money into Molly’s arms. “I’ll tell Miles.”

Nodding, she hurried to the car and drove with care to the marina. Whatever the kidnapper said, she’d do it. Anything to have Bryce back. Miles had promised Bryce wouldn’t be hurt, and she wanted to believe that.

Had to believe it. She believed in Miles. In herself. They would get through this somehow. She had to focus on a happy outcome. There would be more school days. Another brunch at Roxy’s house. More strudel from the Bread Basket. Trips to the marina and—hopefully—more boat picnics. Bryce would grow and thrive and eventually this horrible day would be a small blip in his memory.

She parked the car and cut the engine. Her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Come to the dock where your boyfriend keeps his boats.”

“Okay.”

“Try anything and the boy is done.”

“Don’t hurt him.”

“Just bring me my money.”

Hands shaking, she slung the beach bag over her arm. She couldn’t help it when her gaze shot to the sailing school. There was no sign of Miles, though she recognized plenty of local, friendly faces in the area. Doing her best to wave and smile, she kept moving toward the meet.

She expected her fear and nerves to be on full display as sheneared the docks, but something inside her just went completely quiet. Her steps were strong and sure. It wasn’t a matter of hiding her fears for Bryce’s benefit. This was a previously unknown inner strength.

Motherhood had tested her with the basics of mild illness and injury during the last five years. This was different. A certainty that no matter what happened, she would save Bryce and make sure he had a normal life from this point forward.

Or maybe it was a wild hope that Miles would suddenly sweep in, save Bryce, and whisk them away for an afternoon picnic.

Not today. But soon. Standing here among the boats her son adored, she promised that when this was over, she’d let them teach her to sail. Or at least how to be a good guest aboard a sailboat.

And still she waited while everything around her seemed way too normal.

From his hiding place on the boat, Miles could see Molly. He hated that she was out here alone waiting for more instructions. He understood what it was like to feel alone in a crisis. But she was surrounded—just as he had been during the Vedras takedown.

He desperately wished he could give her a sign, some kind of reassurance that everyone involved was ready to jump in to rescue Bryce. She’d be reunited with her son soon. He had to be patient or he’d blow it.

Everyone had rushed to get in place so they could put an end to Clinton’s scheme for good.

After upping the timing of the exchange, Clinton had to be close. Bryce was surely with him. There’s no way Clinton would believe Molly would give him the money withoutseeing the boy. When Miles heard the soft putter of an outboard motor coming in, he knew the exchange was about to go down. Aside from his own boat and occasionally an emergency rescue crew, there weren’t many motors at this end of the dock.

Had to be Clinton.

Miles didn’t dare peek too soon for fear of spooking Clinton. He waited, biding his time until he heard Clinton shout more orders at Molly.

“Come across that boat there!”

Miles gulped. Could she manage that?

“Where is Bryce?” she asked.

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