Page 69 of Moonlit Hideaway
“The mayor’s helipad.”
“Ah, it’s on the parcel of land the developer purchased,” Howie said. “It’s behind those woods off Cedar Point. I know a shortcut.”
“Thanks.” Was all Sierra could say as she trudged with Howie through the dense trail of gnarled trees, none very tall but aged and scarred. Some were losing their leaves while the cedars stood taller and evergreen. She stumbled behind Howie, thorns tearing her jeans to match the cuts in her heart. She should never have come here and tangled Hank and his island with her family’s warped web.
And now, they had Emma—lured by the dreams of a fleeting fame that was more a trap than a life. Marco’s implications were clear. Emma and Hank would suffer if Sierra didn’t do precisely what Marco wanted.
A sleek helicopter thundered toward the island, its rotors downwashing and bending the trees like thin reeds.
“You’re going to be okay, Seajane. You’re strong.” Howie’s gruff voice buzzed in her ear—the rest of his speech was washed away by the blades' thumping.
Sierra held her hand over her eyes as sand whipped against her face. The sleek helicopter touched down, the deafening roar of its rotors flattening the seagrass. Sierra’s heart pounded wildly even as she vowed to appear calm and compliant. Her only goal was to save Emma from Marco’s cruel manipulations.
The door slid open, and Emma burst out. Wearing an exhilarating smile, she rushed out, her gangly arms and legs flailing with excitement as she ducked beneath the blades and charged toward her.
“Sierra! Isn’t this amazing? We’re going to be touring together.” She flung herself into Sierra’s arms, quivering with joy at what she thought was her dream come true.
Over Emma’s shoulder, Sierra glimpsed Marco’s urbane smirk as he descended from the copter.
“Emma, run. Run home. Go, now.” Her body went rigid as she pushed Emma toward Howie, who stayed behind amongst the trees.
“Why?”
“Because your dad and grandmother are sad. Go now, and I’ll come get you.” Sierra urged, pushing harder. She stared at Howie, begging him to come forward before Marco grabbed them both.
“But … Sierra …”
“Go, Emma, you’re not wanted. Go. I’m marrying Marco.” The words cut her lips like she was spitting out jagged glass. She whipped around and placed her hand in the elegant monster’s outstretched hand.
His fingers, filled with gaudy rings, tightened like a vise as he pulled her roughly against his chest.
“We’re getting married, darling,” Marco purred, ignoring Emma’s stricken protests. “Sierra’s finally come to her senses. I have a priest on the yacht.”
Howie, bless his soul, grabbed Emma and firmly steered the shattered girl away while Marco, in a cruel display, bent Sierra back and smashed her lips with a brutal, biting kiss designed to show her exactly why caged birds sing.
Hank stood with Sheriff Davis at the ferry dock on the far side of Hattokwa Island. A quick search through town had yielded no sightings of Emma, and Davis had already alerted the Coast Guard to search the yacht. He watched as she and her deputy interviewed each car waiting in line and tried to keep the despair from closing his throat.
Taking a minute, he called Sierra, hoping for good news, but she wasn’t answering. He was about to call his mother when her face appeared on his screen. He answered the video call, and his heart leaped at the sight of Emma and his mom.
“She’s back,” Mom said in a flat voice. “Where are you?”
“At the ferry. Where’s Sierra?” He stared at the screen, hoping his mother would turn the phone camera toward her. “Emma? Are you okay?”
“Dad.” Emma wiped her eyes and burst into tears. “Sierra left. She says she doesn’t want me on the tour.”
“Now, Emma, dear, that’s not true.” Mom turned to comfort Emma, tilting the phone so he couldn’t see anyone.
“What do you mean Sierra left? Why?”
Howie’s face appeared on the phone. “You better get back here. Tell Ruth to call off the search. Sierra exchanged herself for Emma. She left on a helicopter with that developer who bought the property next to yours.”
“She what?” Cold dread poured over Hank like a bucket of ice. “What developer?”
“She says she’s marrying Marco,” Emma shouted, her face back on the screen. “Dad, how could she stab us in the back like that? She said I wasn’t good enough to tour with her, and she kissed him in front of me. Ewww!”
Ruth tapped Hank on the shoulder. “Is that Emma?”
“Yeah, let’s head back to the inn. It looks like Emma is home, and Jane, or Sierra, went with the guy who took her.”
