"You're going to have to do better than that, George," Nicky said.

  "I don't have to do anything for you," George said. Nicky watched his eyes narrow, and he glared at her. "You think you're so smart," he said. "I hate to tell you this, but you're not!" He leaned toward her. "You think you can just come onto my boat and make me some kind of villain?"

  Nicky shoved George back with her arm. "You assaulted federal agents. Do you think that makes you a hero?"

  "They've been looking for me for a long time. I didn't do nothing wrong, and I don't deserve that kind of treatment. Arresting me, throwing me in jail, is abuse!"

  Nicky scoffed. "The girl was shoved onto your boat. The boat we just found with hired goons with questionable gun licenses and a pile of money you were trying to destroy. It doesn't take a genius to put together what happened to the girls. So cut a deal and we can go easy or make us do it the hard way and never see the light of day.”

  Steely-eyed, George bit his tongue. "I told you. I don't know what you're talking about."

  Nicky was done with this game. She took out her laptop from her bag and opened it up, then pulled up the security footage of Mira being taken onto George's boat. She showed it to George and pressed play. Begrudgingly, he watched the video. As it played, Nicky kept her eyes trained on him, watching for any emotion on his gruff face. At first, it was confusion.

  Then it was fear.

  "T-that's not me," he said, looking at Nicky. "I have no idea who that girl is."

  Nicky paused the video. "That's Mira Phillips. Why don't you tell me why this looks so familiar?"

  George stayed silent. It was clearly his boat on the video. Nicky's patience was running thin.

  "You're wasting your breath," George said. "I don't know any Mira. I don't have anything to do with that girl." Remembering the picture, Nicky pulled out her phone and played Mira's photo across the screen. George took it in, and his face went white. "I don't know that girl," he said.

  Nicky leaned toward him and gave him a hard stare. "Tell me what's going on. Tell me why you were trying to set fire to that money, and why you were on that boat. Tell me why your boat is on this video if you weren't the one who took Mira."

  George was quiet. "I can't tell you anything," he muttered.

  Nicky's eyes hardened. She would agree that the man in the mask on the video, taking Mira, wasn't George. He was too thin, too young-looking. But he could easily be one of George's men.

  "Who are you protecting, George?" Nicky asked. "Who is this on the video?"

  Still, he was quiet.

  "We're going to stop him," Nicky said, toning it back a little. She could see guilt forming on George's face. She could use that. "And I know that you're a man who wants to do the right thing."

  George looked up at her, and for a moment, Nicky thought that maybe she had made a connection with him, that he would finally speak with her. But then George looked away. "I don't want to talk to you."

  Nicky's blood boiled. She was sick of getting blank looks and grunts out of this man. She had to push harder.

  "You may not care about the girls who were taken," Nicky said. "But you will wish you'd helped when you're behind bars for obstructing justice."

  George's jaw set. "I don't care what happens to me."

  Nicky frowned. "You don't care? Okay, then. I guess I'll make sure you don't care."

  "I'm not afraid of you!"

  "You should be!"

  George's eyes turned back to her. "I told you; I didn't do anything! I don't know the girl in the picture. I don't know the girl you think I took. I had nothing to do with it!"

  "Then who did?" Nicky demanded. "Who took those girls?"

  "I don't know," George said.

  "Why would you burn the money?" Nicky asked. "I’m sure you could have used it, so why just throw it all away?”

  To Nicky's surprise, George let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. "The money in that pile was mine," George said. "I earned it."

  Nicky's eyes were wide. "What?"

  "I earned that money fair and square," George said. "I burned it because--I didn't want the cops to seize it. I didn't want anyone else to have it."

  Nicky leaned over the table. He was cracking--she could feel it. "Who gave you the money, George? You want to help that girl in the video, don't you? Then tell me the truth. Tell me what's going on."

  "I, I--" George took a breath, his face beet-red. "Okay. Damn it. That's not my crew in the video. I saw the timestamp. We didn't even have the boat that morning, I swear it."

  It would be easy to say he was lying--but Nicky actually sensed George was telling the truth. Still, she needed more. She was getting close. "Then who had your boat, George?"

  "Look." He took a deep breath and grunted. "I didn't do anything illegal. But sometimes, people pay me to use my boat and I look the other way. I don't know what they do with it once they have it. They're mostly young country club types, okay? And they pay me so they can party or travel or do whatever."

  Nicky's mind raced. "So, you recognize the person in the video?"

  "No, I don't know."

  "George." Nicky's voice became firm. "Do you know him or not?"

  "I--I don't," he said. "Honestly, I can't even remember."

  Nicky took a breath. She wanted to rip the information out of George, but she had to stay collected. "Okay, George," she said. "I'm going to need a list of everyone who has ever bribed you for use of your boat--especially in the last eight months."

  "I don't know," George said. "There's been a few."

  Nicky glared. "You're going to give me a list of everyone who's ever paid you to use your boat, or I'm going to make sure that you--"

  "I don't know!" George said, his voice rising. "There's been a few, okay?"

  "A few," Nicky scoffed. "How many is a few, George?"

  George's eyes went wide. "Shit," he said to himself. "I don't know. I can't remember."

  "You seemed to remember when you burned your money," Nicky said. "Come on, George. This isn't difficult."

  "Those men paid me in cash," George said. "I don't know anything about them."

  Nicky's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something."

  "I'm not hiding anything," George said.

  He was starting to get angrier. "Why don't you believe me?"

  "I believe you're destroying evidence, George," Nicky said, her voice hardening to a near-shout. "I believe you're destroying evidence and refusing to help me."

  George shook his head. "That's not what I'm doing."

  "Yeah?" Nicky's eyes were wider. "Tell me what you are doing then."

  George didn't say anything.

  "I think you're a coward, George," Nicky said. "I think you're a coward because you won't tell me the truth. And I think that you're a coward because you won't stand up for these girls who everyone else is ignoring."

  George looked up at her, his eyes distant. "I don't know why they were taken," he said. "I don't know what's going on here..." He trailed off, looking down. "But I'll get you the damn list. I'll cooperate."

  "You'll cooperate? Is that what you said?"

  George looked up at her. "Yeah," he said. "That's what I said."

  Nicky could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Okay, George," she said. "Then cooperate."

  George met her eyes with steely determination. "Get me a pen and paper and I'll list off everyone I remember meeting."

  Nicky almost smiled. Now they were getting somewhere.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Back at the hotel room, morning sun seeped in through the white curtains as Nicky sat at the table with her laptop out--and George's list next to her.

  She'd left him to be investigated for the bribery by the police, and she was sure he wouldn't be getting away with this scot-free. At the very least, he wasn't allowed to leave Vale, and if he tried to evade the FBI or the police, he'd become a fugitive. Something told Nicky that George wasn't a bad guy but had made some bad calls for money. She'd seen that before.

  When the door to the room opened, Nicky looked up to see Ken holding a tray of coffees and a bag of food.

  "Sometimes I feel like your errand boy, Lyons," Ken said, dropping a wrapped-up breakfast sandwich on the table. The smell of egg and sausage made Nicky's mouth water. He placed a coffee beside her, and she gratefully took a sip, relishing in the bold flavor.

  "I can feed myself, Walker," she quipped, then shot him a smile. "But thanks. Sometimes it's hard to remember to eat on a case like this."

  Ken sat across from her. "Agreed. How's the list?"

  Frowning, Nicky refocused on her laptop. The list was all men, all under the age of thirty. As George mentioned, they were country club types, rich boys with esteemed families.

  Nicky had been reviewing a guy named Burke Turner when Ken had come back. She refocused on the file.

  "So far," she told Ken, "all these guys seem, well... innocent. No criminal record. This Burke Turner guy went to Yale. His record doesn't have a scratch on it."

  "Maybe he's just good at covering his tracks or something," Ken said.

  "I don't know," Nicky said. She grabbed the next name on the list. "And this guy, Eli Grant. He's the manager of a law firm." She read off the resume. "Criminology degree from Yale. Went to Harvard Law. Manages a shop downtown." She paused. "I mean, what the hell do I do here? I can't go to these people and accuse them of kidnapping girls."

  Ken nodded. "Yeah."

  "I mean, Turner has a list of honors as long as your arm, and this Grant guy volunteers at a shelter for women and children."

  Nicky put down the list, balancing her coffee on the corner of it. "I wish I had something."

  "So do I," Ken said. "We need to know where those women are."

  Nicky nodded. "It's gonna haunt me." It already was.

  "You really think George gave up all the names?" Ken asked.

  Nicky let out a long sigh. "I don't know. I want to believe he did. Something like this is hard to prove. There's no paper trail. It was all just bribery. These guys could have given him fake names too."

  Ken leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his dark hair. "We could be chasing our tails here."

  Nicky shrugged. "Yep. But unless you have a better idea, I'll keep looking."

  She continued to slog through the list. One name, near the end of the list, was Charles Medina. Nicky looked into him in the database and was surprised to see that he was actually much older than the others on the list. He was fifty-two...

  And a multibillionaire.

  What?

  Nicky frowned as she read through his file. Charles Francois Medina was born into wealth; his parents founded a glass company in Florida, and Charles was sitting on the inheritance.

  He had one charge on his record: an account of transporting exotic animals, one time, twenty years ago. That could have been what he wanted to use Onlooker for...

  Unless young girls were his new "exotic animal" of choice to transport.

  "This guy seems promising," Nicky said. "He sounds like an oddball billionaire, and he's got a record of trafficking exotic animals."

  "Sounds worth talking to," Ken agreed. "Where's he at?"

  Nicky checked his address and frowned. "Last known address... is way out off the coast?"

  Nicky looked up the address on maps and zoomed in, getting a closer look at it--and it was a small island.

  "He owns his own island," Nicky said.

  Ken looked over her shoulder at the island. "And it's where?"

  Nicky zoomed out. "It's not far from Vale. It's... near the coast. Like maybe a thousand miles south."

  Ken frowned. "That's a hell of a commute. I've always wanted to take a vacation to get away, but that seems a little extreme."

  Nicky reached for her coffee and took another sip. "I don't know. Maybe Medina is a hermit. Maybe that's how he likes to live."

  Ken nodded. "Makes sense. Maybe he's hiding the girls there."

  "Yeah," Nicky said, thinking. "That's possible."

  She stared at the locations on the map for a long time, neither of them talking. Then, Nicky went back into Medina's file, hoping to learn more about the mysterious, reclusive man.

  There was a boat registered to his name--a large yacht, a borderline cruise ship. Medina had two docks for the boat: one at his island...

  And one at the docks just down the beach from where the church was. From where Mira went missing.

  Nicky held her breath. This could be significant. Even though Mira was taken in the Onlooker, it seemed too coincidental that Medina would also dock his boat at the very place she was taken.

  Still, Nicky needed more, so she continued through his file.

  He had a son, Chad Medina, born to his late wife, Francesca Dubois-Medina. Nicky opened up each of their files; Chad was a Harvard dropout with a DUI on his record from ten years ago but seemed harmless enough. Francesca, on the other hand...

  She had died.

  Nicky paused, taking this in. She opened up a photo of Francesca.

  And her blood ran cold.

  Staring back at her was the spitting image of Mira, Clara, and Erica.

  Francesca had brown hair, freckles, and a slim, athletic build.

  Nicky showed Ken the picture, and he frowned. "Walker, this is Medina's late wife," she said.

  At that moment, it registered on Ken. "Shit."

  "We need to go to this island," she said.

  Ken nodded. "I'll call in a helicopter."

  Nicky pulled the car up to the lot outside of town and killed the engine. The rotors of the helicopter they had ordered churned as they coasted to a stop in the gravel lot. Ken opened the door and leaned out. Nicky did too, and they waved as the helicopter settled to a bouncing stop on the rocks.

  This case just kept getting more interesting, Nicky thought. She hadn't expected to be taking a helicopter ride to a rich guy's remote island, but here they were.

  They got out of the car. The August sun was hot on Nicky's skin, and she could feel the wind from the helicopter blowing at them. The pilot turned it off, and the rotors slowly stopped spinning, allowing a calm silence to take over the field.

  A man and a woman stepped out of the helicopter, wearing jumpsuits and goggles. These were the pilots--FBI-trained, trusted pilots who Nicky was sure would get them safely over the water.

  The man nodded at Nicky, and then Ken. "Agent Walker, Agent Lyons, I'm Danny, your pilot, and this is my co-pilot, Rachel. You ready for this?"

  Nicky nodded. "Let's do this."

  Nicky and Ken climbed into the back seat of the helicopter. Danny strapped them in while Rachel got settled into her seat in the front.

  Nicky and Ken settled into the seats, getting comfortable with the safety belts. George's list was in Nicky's pocket. She had looked through it one more time when they had been ready to leave and had decided that Charles Medina was worth focusing on.

  The helicopter's engine growled and it was soon lifting off, sending wind scurrying across Nicky's face. The helicopter rose higher and higher, and Nicky stared out the window at the town of Vale below them. It was so small from this height, trees and fields surrounding the buildings. The ocean glittered blue, and Nicky could see for miles.

  Nicky thought of the women she had met, and the girls she had seen in photos. She hoped that she could save them.

  She looked out the window as they soared over the ocean, and now, below Nicky was nothing but blue.

  The ocean went on forever, completely uninterrupted by anything but expanses of water, dotted with boats and small islands.

  Nicky watched the ocean zip past below her, and she was filled with an intense feeling of freedom. The wind whipped at her hair and clothes and the sun beat down on her through the window. The helicopter bounced on the wind, but Rachel and Danny were in good control. They were all in for a safe trip.

  Nicky let her eyes drift closed, and she felt the roar of the engines, the cool air, and the sunlight.

  She sat up and opened her eyes. She looked out the window, at the endless ocean and the sun high in the sky.

  She shook her head; she was here to do a job. This was no time to go sightseeing. The helicopter was flying lower over the water now, the waves rocking the chopper, but the pilot was doing a good job keeping the thing steady.

  The ocean was smooth, for the most part. Nicky saw a storm on the horizon, but it was small, and looked as though it would pass.

  After a while, the island came into view. It was a small dot on the horizon, but it grew as they flew.

  Nicky stared at it, a sense of determination growing in her. They were so close. So close to finding Mira. To finding Clara and Erica. Nicky could feel it in her blood--this island would bring her answers.

  Beside her, Ken shifted uncomfortably, and Nicky shot him a glance. "You good?" she asked.

  Ken nodded. "Yeah. I just..." He trailed off, brows furrowed.

  Nicky frowned. "What is it?"

  Ken looked at her, and he looked like he was about to say something, but then he shook his head. "It's nothing," he said. "I'll be okay."

  Nicky nodded. Although she could tell he had more to say, she trusted Ken, and she knew he had been through a lot in the past few days. It wasn't surprising if he was worried. Nicky was too. Everything was riding on them, and the longer those girls were missing, the less likely they were to be found alive.

  Nicky stared ahead at the island as it grew.

  Please be here, Mira.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The helicopter's engine roared, and the island loomed closer, growing in size. Nicky and Ken both leaned forward and stared at it. It was lush, green, with white sand beaches and turquoise water. Nicky had to admit, it was gorgeous.

  The helicopter flew over the island, surveying it, and then the engines cut. Nicky felt the helicopter dip and settle onto the ground, sending sand flying everywhere. Once everything was steady, she reached up and undid her safety belt, and then she stepped out of the helicopter. It felt odd to be on solid ground after being in the air for so long. Ken followed her out, and they both stood on the beach.

  The helicopter's blades whirled through the air, sending wind scattering over the shore and sand everywhere. The fan slowly stopped.

 

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