Page 16 of Broken Minds

Chapter Eight

The plane wasn’t returning, and my fear of not being able to trust Jolie held me back from chartering another one.

I walked the island’s coast, as was often my habit when I needed time to think. I had a big decision to make. Did I take Jolie with me when I managed to leave?

I didn’t think I had much choice.

Just like I imagined she was, I was feeling trapped on this island. I’d loved the place for so many years, but now it was holding me back.

The storm had long since cleared, and the skies were back to their perfect blue. Mentally, I’d compared the color of Jolie’s eyes to the ocean, but now I thought they were more like the sky—this sky in particular, with not so much as a wisp of cloud breaking it up. Deep and flawless.

I spotted something out to sea and frowned. A white glint in the bright sunlight, a stark contrast against the blue. My stomach lurched. Was that what I thought it was?

My boat.

I’d assumed it would have been dragged far out to sea by now, or I’d even find the remains smashed up against rocks at the bottom of one of the island’s numerous cliff faces, but it appeared to be in one piece. I lifted my hand to shade my eyes and squinted out to sea. The chances of it being a different boat were slim to none. I rarely got visitors here, and warning signs of private property on most of the small beaches kept away those who tried to sail in closer. Besides, the boat didn’t appear to be moving in any deliberate direction, and I couldn’t see any point in someone just bobbing around out there.

I was a strong swimmer. Not only did I swim multiple lengths in the pool every day, but I had also managed to swim back to shore during a storm when the waves were big enough to flip a boat. Luckily, that hadn’t happened to my boat, or so it appeared. This distance was greater, but the conditions were far better today. The ocean was reasonably flat, the wind low, and the sun shining above my head. If I could swim out to the boat, I’d have a way to get off the island without needing to get anyone else involved. I could keep Jolie handcuffed or even tied up. I wasn’t sure what I’d do once I docked on the mainland, as my driver was now behind bars, but I’d have time to figure that part out.

I turned and hurried back to the house. I needed to tell Loretta of my plans, and also get the keys for the boat so I could climb on board and steer it back to the dock, assuming I made it.

I broke into a jog, running back across the island. The ground was still damp from the storm, but I was fit and sure-footed and made good time. By the time I reached the house, a thin film of sweat covered my forehead and ran down my spine, but I didn’t care what I looked like.

“Loretta?”

She was better now, and up and about, though I could see she’d lost weight and still wasn’t quite one hundred percent. I’d told her to take it easy, but she’d said she’d had enough of lying around in bed.

“Loretta!” I called again. I wanted to get on with this. If I went back to the spot where I’d seen the boat, only to find it gone again, I’d be kicking myself.

Her dark head popped around the kitchen door. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ve seen the boat on the south side of the island. I need to swim out to it and bring it back to shore.”

A frown deepened the lines across her brow. “The boat? Where’s the boat?”

I suddenly realized I had never told Loretta about Jolie’s escape attempt, and I didn’t want her to know either. The older woman would chastise me and use it as a way of backing up her insistence that Jolie made me weak, and I could do without a lecture right now.

“It came loose of the dock during the storm. I assumed it was lost out to sea.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t mention it to me.”

“You had your own stuff going on.” I hardened my tone. “And remember you’re my employee, Loretta. I can tell you whatever I want to. You’re not my business partner.”

Her lips thinned, sending spider’s legs of lines threading out from her mouth.

I didn’t want to upset her—she knew too much—but I also needed her to know her place. I was the one who’d been planning for this ever since Patrick Dorman was arrested for my mother’s murder, and while I appreciated that she had an emotional tie in this thing, I was the one who’d spent ten years working toward it, and who’d stumped up all the financial side of things.

I was also the one who’d be killing Patrick Dorman.

She glanced down at the floor. “Sorry, sir.”

My housekeeper was strong-willed, and I knew that would have been hard for her to do. “Don’t worry about it, Loretta. I’m going to take the keys to the boat with me and swim out to it. I’m only telling you in case I get into trouble. I don’t want our prisoner to be left unattended.”

“Do you think that’s safe? Swimming out, I mean?”

“I’ll take a buoyancy aid. I’ve swum much farther in the past. I’ll be fine.”

Her lips tightened again, and her nostrils flared. “If you say so, sir.”

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