Page 96 of Ground Truth

Drake popped the trunk and patted Brand down. He found and removed the key fob for the sedan, a pocketknife, and a cigarette case. He shoved Brand inside, and he was none too careful about it, either.

“Don’t panic, Brand. No whining. You’ve got plenty of room and plenty of air,” Drake said before he slammed the trunk lid down and made his way to the driver’s seat.

Flint was already seated in the passenger’s seat. The engine was running with the air-conditioning on to cool down the cabin’s interior.

“Push-button start?” Drake arched his eyebrows and flashed a grin. “How convenient.”

“Let’s go before we have more of Hedinger’s goons to deal with. Head southwest. There’s an undeveloped cove over there. A place to interrogate Brand before we get the hell off this island.”

Flint gestured in the general direction of the abandoned road he’d found while studying Gaspar’s maps.

Drake turned the big sedan and headed in the right direction. “What are we going to do with Brand?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” Flint shrugged and ran a flat palm across his weary face. He pointed. “Take a left turn up ahead.”

Atabei was the characteristic shape of a volcanic Caribbean Island. The cone-shaped mountain was surrounded by sloping land leading down to the sea.

The island’s crescent perimeter had been partially developed to showcase its beautiful beaches. But the western side of the island was steep and rocky.

The abandoned road ran along a cliff on the western side. Below the cliff’s edge was a large section of protruding black limestone formations, giving it an eerie and sinister feel. The limestone was sharp and dangerous.

“Are you sure?” Drake asked.

“Yeah. It’s a defensible location. Anybody tries to come in, we’ll know it,” Flint replied.

There was only one good road from Atabei Town which encircled the volcanic island. It was a twisty two-lane road. They’d traveled it that morning on the bus from the airport.

The abandoned road had been built long before Hedinger bought the island. It had crested the big hill at the top of the inactive volcano and then wound its way down the other side of the hill. Hedinger had cut off the road when repairing and maintaining it was no longer necessary.

Drake slowed the big sedan over the potholes as the road wound around and up the hillside.

When the sedan rounded the back of the volcano, Flint gestured toward the soft, crumbling shoulder.

“Pull off here. We’ll be out of sight from ground surveillance. Don’t get too close to the cliff,” Flint said, opening his door to step outside. “Let’s drag Brand out of the trunk and find out what he knows about Greta.”

“Works for me.” Drake walked around to the rear of the sedan and pressed the trunk release.

The trunk lid popped open like a child’s toy. Brand sat up, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.

Drake reached over, grabbed his arm, and jerked him out of the trunk. Brand went limp, his knees buckled, and he sat on the ground.

“Stand up.” Drake yanked him up and then shoved him against the sedan.

“What do you want?” Brand demanded.

“You’re Phillip Reed. You were married to Ella Belle Reed and then to Greta Campbell Reed,” Flint said.

Brand shook his head slowly.

Flint said, “You had Ella Belle killed so you could transplant her heart into the man who paid you a fortune for it.”

“You’re crazy. Nobody will believe that,” Brand stated flatly, still holding his hands up to shield his face from the glaring sun. “You killed Genevieve just now. You shot my security team. You broke into my home. You’re the killer, not me.”

“You can tell that to the prosecutors in Atlanta.” Flint’s tone was harder than steel. “What about Greta Campbell? Did you kill her and sell her heart, too?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Brand said flatly.

“See, I don’t think you killed Greta. You probably tried. But you failed. Greta’s alive. We will find her,” Flint declared with hard certainty. “And when we do, you’ll spend the rest of your miserable life in prison, waiting years to be executed.”

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