The Seductive Impostor (29 page)

“The lawyers wouldn't have let him near Sub Rosa unless he was the heir,” Rachel defended. “He has the codes. And complete access.”

Vegas shook his head. “The true heir is an international banker living in Geneva with a wife and five teenage kids. Oakes merely made a deal with him to come here first and find Thaddeus Lakeman's lost treasure.” He leaned in closer. “The greatest part of which is the Cup of Virtue.”

He stood up and looked down at her. “And you, Miss Foster, are going to help me find it.” He kicked her thigh. “Was it Oakes I shot?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “Then the others will be of no consequence, at least while they are searching for him.” He looked up to see where they were, then hunched down beside her again and took her chin in his hand. “Mary had convinced me that you didn't know where Thadd hid his stolen treasures, and that is why I used her these last three years. But her death has put me at a disadvantage, considering that Oakes had full run of Sub Rosa. Was he getting close to finding it?”

“He found it already. There was a hidden room my father built, and Kee found it.”

“He did not,” he snapped. “He would not have been here still. Oakes gets in, gets what he's after, and is gone before anyone realizes he's even been there.”

“Are you saying he's—he was—a smuggler?”

He shook his head. “The reward being offered for the Cup of Virtue alone would have made him rich. No, I learned that he had worked out a deal with the real heir to sweep Sub Rosa clean of stolen art before the man took possession. Chances are Oakes was in contact with the various insurers as well.”

His sinister smile returned. “We were after the same prize, only for different reasons.”

Raoul Vegas shoved her down to the deck, stood up again, grabbed the burlap bag, and threw it over her head.

Rachel's world turned black, all but suffocating her in the sickening smell of rotten fish. Her chest ached with heart-crushing pressure as the boat cut through the waves with amazing speed, obviously taking them far, far down the coast.

Luke was dead. One minute they'd been laughing at Willow, the next minute he'd been floating in Rachel's arms, the life draining from him.

And her parents. Murdered by Vegas. And Thadd. Her mother had not betrayed her father. All these years she and Willow—everyone—had believed it to be a crime of passion.

Instead it had been nothing more than the greed of one man.

And Kee. He wasn't the heir to Sub Rosa. He was an impostor. An opportunist. A liar.

He'd lied to her about who he was. He'd brought her to Sub Rosa not to help him open his house, but to use her to help him find Thadd's stolen treasure—for profit.

She'd been nothing more than a means to an end.

A titillating, amusing bonus.

She'd been a fool to let passion blind her to the truth.

T
hey heard the gunshots.
That unmistakable sound had traveled across the water, the direction impossible to pinpoint as it skipped over waves and echoed against the shore like rolling thunder.

But Kee knew—he knew—the barrage of gunfire had come from the direction Rachel and Willow and Luke had gone.

He dropped the hammer he'd been using to hang the birdhouse, grabbed up Mikaela, and started running behind Duncan. Mickey led their way up the narrow path to Sub Rosa. At the base of the mansion they continued straight along the cliff, arriving at the ramp to the dock just as Ahab was giving the order to lower the power launch off the
Six-to-One Odds.
The crew of three men worked quickly as Ahab barked orders. Matt and Jason and Peter arrived, running down from the house.

Kee handed Mikaela to Peter and took the binoculars Jason held toward him. He scanned the open water in a sweeping arc, then returned to a lone lobster boat speeding east. He backtracked and saw a yellow kayak bobbing in its wake, the setting sun hitting it as swells raised it one second and dropped it out of sight the next. Another kayak, its white belly turned up, drifted on the tide, and the nose of another, wood-grained, rose out of the water as it started to sink.

Kee tore his gaze away and looked down at the dock. Ahab lowered his own sea scope, then turned and looked up at Kee.

“I saw two men pull the women aboard,” he shouted. He looked at the men standing behind Kee, as if taking a mental roll call before shaking his head. “There's no sign of Luke. When I heard the gunshots I started looking, but I couldn't see him once his boat rolled over. There was a scuffle of some sort in the water before the second woman—I couldn't tell which—was pulled on board.”

Kee lifted his binoculars back up and trained them on the fleeing boat. Willow and Rachel were in it, and Luke was…Luke was out there somewhere. He scanned back to the kayaks, searching for movement, then lowered the glasses and watched as Ahab and one of his crew climbed into the launch and headed out.

“Jason,” Kee barked, pivoting toward him. “Check that list Luke gave you, and find out which of the names live in any town east of Fisherman's Reach. Peter, you take Mikaela on board the
Six-to-One Odds,
and get her out to sea. Matt, go up to the house and send Franny and the others home, call an ambulance and the coast guard, then help Jason.”

“Daddy!” Mikaela cried, reaching out against Peter's hold.

Kee took a calming breath and cupped Mikaela's face in his hands. “I need your help, pumpkin,” he said gently. “You have to steer the
Six-to-One Odds
because Ahab can't go out with you now. Rachel and Willow and Luke had a boat accident, and I have to go find them. But I need you to steer the schooner and follow Peter's directions. Can you do that?”

“If Peter gives me the numbers, I can steer.” Her face suddenly fell. “I broke the compass, Daddy,” she whispered.

“You know port from starboard. Peter will call out, and you'll steer. The crew is cut in half, and we need your help.”

“Are we gonna go look for Luke?”

“No, baby. You're going to sea and wait until I call you.”

“Mickey can look for Luke. He can smell him.”

Kee kissed her on the nose and nodded. “Mickey can help me. He's got a good nose and good eyes.”

He kissed her again, then nodded to Peter to head down the ramp and get aboard the schooner. Jason and Matt were already running up the path to Sub Rosa, and Duncan was now holding the binoculars up to his eyes, watching the retreating lobster boat and then scanning back toward the kayaks.

“They might not find him,” Duncan said softly, lowering the glasses and looking at Kee.

“They'll find him,” Kee growled. “The bastard has more lives than a cat.”

They stood side by side with Mickey sitting between them, silent sentinels waiting and watching and growing impatient, helpless to do anything until they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

Kee had learned a long time ago that waiting might be the hardest thing to stomach, but it was better than rushing in without direction or purpose. The odds were good it was Raoul Vegas who had taken Willow and Rachel. The moment Rachel had given Kee his name last Sunday, he had realized just how dangerous the situation had become.

He'd been minutes away then from packing Rachel and Mikaela aboard the
Six-to-One Odds
and shipping them out, but in his arrogance, and after discussing it with his men, he'd thought they had everything under control. Raoul Vegas was after the art hidden in Sub Rosa, and as long as the women were tucked away safely at Rachel's, Vegas shouldn't have been a threat to them.

But Mary Alder's death had put the smuggler at a disadvantage. He'd been using Mary to help him through the maze of tunnels, and with her dead, he needed Rachel now. Willow was the most likely leverage to gain her cooperation.

They'd crossed paths with Vegas before, if only indirectly. Vegas had stolen a Renoir from a museum in Italy, but had botched the job, killing a guard and wounding the curator. The curator's daughter had been taken hostage for their run out of the country.

Kee and his men had found the girl, who was only nineteen, in Brazil. When Vegas hadn't needed her anymore, he'd sold her to a warlord deep in the Amazon.

Kee had stolen her back, and the warlord wouldn't be buying any more women for his amusement. The Renoir and Vegas, however, had gotten away clean.

“Tell me what ya're thinking,” Duncan said, lowering the binoculars to look at Kee.

“I'm thinking we don't belong in this game anymore,” he said softly. “When we reach the point we can't even protect what's ours, we sure as hell have no business involving innocent people.”

Duncan sighed, scratching his chest and then raising the glasses again. “We had no reason to believe Vegas would go after Rachel.”

Kee stopped watching the launch, which had just circled one of the kayaks and was heading to another one, and turned to look at Duncan. “We should have seen it coming. Vegas is after the Cup of Virtue, and Rachel is the only one who can help him find it. It's common knowledge she knows that mansion like the back of her hand. Vegas has obviously been living here, posing as a lobsterman and making forays into Sub Rosa for years now.”

“Then why hadn't he taken Rachel before this?” Duncan asked, still looking through the binoculars.

“Mary Alder,” Kee said succinctly. “He had her help until last week. She must have convinced him she could help him better than Rachel could. And she did, until he killed her.”

“Aye,” Duncan said softly, lowering the glasses and looking at Kee. “We don't belong in this game anymore.”

The
Six-to-One Odds
was moving west under diesel power, already about two miles out. The mainsail was just being unfurled, and Kee took the binoculars from Duncan and looked at his schooner and smiled. His little girl was standing at the wheel, which was taller than she was, her attention focused on Peter. Kee could actually picture her beautiful little face, her bottom lip stuck out in concentration, her wispy locks blowing in the sea breeze as she executed her duties with the determination of a lion cub.

Kee turned his gaze to the launch and stiffened. “They have Luke,” he growled. “Ahab just went into the water.”

Duncan shifted nervously. “Can ya tell if he's alive?”

“No.”

Jason and Matthew came running down the path from the mansion. “Raymond Bishop in Trunk Harbor or Paul Bean in Maplehead,” Jason said as he came to a stop beside them. “Do they have him?” he asked, looking toward the launch.

“They have him,” Kee answered, lifting the glasses again. “But he's not moving.”

The beat of chopper blades moved in from the west at the same time as a siren sounded up on the road. The coast guard and an ambulance had arrived.

“Jason, call Peter on the
Six-to-One Odds
and have him radio the chopper and let them know what's happening. Have him tell them it was a hit-and-run, and send them after the lobster boat. Maybe they can find out its destination.”

“Do you have any idea how many boats are out there?” Jason asked, taking out his cell phone. “The coast guard won't know which one they're looking for.”

“It's a long shot,” Kee admitted. “But it's better than nothing. Matthew, guide the paramedics down here.”

“I already opened the gate,” Matt said, turning back to the mansion.

Kee held up the glasses again to see Ahab cradling Luke, waving a thumb in the air as the launch sped toward shore.

“He's alive,” Kee said, breaking into a relieved smile as he nodded to Jason and Duncan.

Jason turned away to hear Peter on the cell phone, and Kee listened as Jason gave his instructions. The coast guard chopper hovered over the kayaks, then moved over the launch, taking in the situation.

“Tell them everyone's out of the water,” Kee told Jason, who relayed that message to Peter, which Peter would then relay on the marine radio.

The chopper hovered another minute, then banked east and took off in that direction, the sound of its powerful rotor blades quickly fading into the distance.

Jason and Duncan and Kee trotted down the long ramp to the large floating platform, Jason bending to catch the nose of the launch as it docked.

Duncan lifted Luke off Ahab's lap. He handed him over to Kee and Jason, and they laid him out on the dock. Duncan tore open Luke's shirt, then pulled down his pants.

“Two shots,” he said. “One in the thigh and the other in his side.” He rolled him slightly, then took off his own shirt and held it tightly against Luke's side. “Both bullets are still in him. This one may have nicked a rib.”

Kee stopped Mickey from washing Luke's face, replacing the wolf's tongue with his own hands. “Open your eyes, Luke,” he demanded. “Look at me.”

Luke's eyelids flickered, then slowly opened to mere slits, his mouth turning up in a slight, drunken grin. “It took you guys long enough,” he whispered weakly. “I thought I'd freeze to death before I bled out.”

“Give me something, Luke,” Kee said softly. “Anything.”

“Finders Keepers,”
he whispered, shivering, and closed his eyes again. “Out of Trunk Harbor.”

Kee ran a gentle hand over Luke's forehead, brushing his wet hair out of his face. “Good man,” he told him. “Good man.”

The paramedics came down the ramp with their equipment. Kee moved out of the way, reaching out to help Ahab climb onto the dock. He patted the wet, shivering man on the back. “How was your swim?” he asked, walking with him up the ramp.

Once at the top, Ahab turned and looked out to sea. “Who stole my boat?” he growled.

“Peter,” Kee told him. “Mikaela's steering.”

Ahab headed back down the ramp. “Untie that damn launch!” he shouted to his crewman. “We got a boat to catch before those idiots run her aground.”

Duncan and Jason came up the ramp and turned to watch the paramedics working on Luke. Matthew was standing over them, flinching every time one of them poked something into their friend and glaring every time Luke groaned.

“Any ideas?” Kee asked the two men beside him.

“I'll go after Willow,” Duncan suggested, looking Kee in the eye. “While you and Jason and Mickey wait for Vegas and Rachel.”

“So we've decided it's Vegas?” Jason asked. “And that he took Rachel to help get him into Sub Rosa?”

Kee nodded. “Willow's his leverage.”

Jason scanned the horizon. “It'll be dark in about an hour.” He looked at Duncan. “Can you have Willow by then?”

“How far is Trunk Harbor?”

“Twelve miles up the coast,” Jason told him. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and read something on it. “Raymond Bishop lives at Twenty-four Drew Lane.” He held the paper out to Duncan. “I downloaded this map when I did the Internet search.”

Duncan studied the map. “Drew Lane runs down to a cove where he could moor his boat.” He looked at Kee. “He might leave Willow alone if there's only two of them. I'll call as soon as I find out and let you know the number of guests to expect.”

That said, Duncan turned and ran up the wide cobblestone path to Sub Rosa. Matthew came up the ramp from the dock, helping the paramedics wheel Luke up. Deputy sheriff Larry Jenkins arrived just in time to stop them and peer down at Luke.

“Boating accident?” he asked.

“Gunshots. Two,” one of the paramedics said, pushing Luke past the stunned sheriff.

Jenkins turned to Kee. “What the hell happened here?” he asked, pulling out his notepad. “I was told this was a boating accident.”

Kee looked Jenkins in the eye. “A lobster boat ran down our friend and started shooting at him. We don't know why, and we don't know who.”