“Well?”
Charlie jumped at Jazz’s voice so close. He hadn’t heard the dude walking, let alone opening the cabin door. “Shit.”
“Do not piss me off, Charlie.”
With as much indignation as he could muster, Charlie walked past Jazz into Mikey’s cabin.
His brother stood up so fast he knocked an empty water glass off the bedside ledge. “What the hell?”
“Relax. I’m just bringing you something to eat.”
“Get out of here, Charlie.”
“I will. Just let me put this down.” He went to the vanity, and as he was depositing the tray, the door to the cabin shut. It was Jazz screwing with him, making it easy for Mikey to wail on him. He turned, fast, but Mike was already in his face.
“How many people are on board?” Mike asked, his voice low, threatening.
“How should I know?”
Mikey’s elbow bent and his arm went back. There was no mistaking the intent of his fist. “Count them.”
“All right, all right. Me, Jazz, Martini, the cook, the pilot guy and some kid that cleans up.”
“What are they planning?”
“You think I know? I shouldn’t even be here. They was supposed to let me out when we brought the money. They tricked me!”
“Gee, I feel real bad for you there, Charlie.”
“Look, I told ya-”
“I know exactly what you told me. And what you did. And what you’re gonna do now.”
Charlie shook his head, trying to inch toward the door. “I gotta go. They catch me talking to you, it’s trouble all around.”
“Don’t you fucking move,” Mikey said, pressing his body closer. “You tell me right this minute how many weapons are on board.”
“I don’t know.”
“Charlie, I swear to God-”
“Mikey, I don’t know. On Ma’s grave, I don’t know. They keep me in the dark.”
“Then find out.”
Charlie was sweatin’ now. He could feel it dripping on his forehead, down his back. “I can’t, Mikey. Don’t ask me, ’cause I can’t. You know I can’t lie worth shit.”
“You managed to lie to me.”
“No, no I didn’t.”
“Find out, Charlie. Every single gun, rifle, harpoon, knife-you hear me? You find out and you get that information to me. If you try to pull something, I swear on Pa’s grave, I will hunt you down and I will hurt you worse than you could ever believe.”
“Yeah? Well, Martini will kill me. He’s already threatened to throw me overboard.”
His brother’s arm went back, and Charlie flinched, but the punch never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw the woman behind Mikey, touching his shoulder. Shit, he hadn’t even seen her when he walked in.
She looked different. Better. Pretty. No wonder Mikey liked his job so much. Must be sweet to get to work with a rich broad who looked like that.
“Get out, Charlie. Get out, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get me what I want to know.”
“I’ll try. That’s all I can do.”
Mikey spun around and Charlie wasted no time getting the hell out of there. Back in the saloon, Jazz was smiling like he’d been to the circus.
“Have a nice visit?”
Charlie almost told him what for, but he didn’t. “No.”
“What does he want you to do?”
He shouldn’t say. Mikey was his brother, after all. His own blood. On the other hand, Martini had never liked him much. And Jazz? He was a goddamn psycho. “He wanted to know how many people were on board. How many guns.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him nothing. I swear. I said I don’t know, ’cause I don’t.”
Jazz gave him the once-over. “Watch your step, Charlie. It’s a big ocean out there.”
Charlie went out on the deck, staring at that ocean and planning how when Jazz wasn’t looking, he’d be the one to go swimming. Next time he wouldn’t tell Jazz a damn thing. He’d show them. Stupid rat bastards. Soon as he got home, he was gonna go to Len Taub’s off-track parlor. Screw Ed. Screw Jazz.
TATE WASN’T SURE what to do. It wasn’t easy watching Michael pace, so angry the vein on his forehead throbbed. But he also seemed to be working something out, at least from the bits and snatches of his mumbles that she caught.
Today was the first time she’d looked at Charlie. Jazz had brought them everything since that day she’d learned that Charlie and Michael were brothers. It had been upsetting, seeing them together, at least at first, but then, watching their interaction after spending so much time with Michael…she knew that she’d been right to believe him.
Michael might be good at his intelligence work, but he wasn’t Olivier. He couldn’t have made up his rage at Charlie. God, they were so different. Like night and day.
She decided she wasn’t going to say a word. Let Michael pace, let him swear and plot and plan. While he was occupied, she took one of the sandwiches from the tray Charlie had brought, then she went to the bed and got the notebook she’d asked for two days ago.
It wasn’t anything special, just an unlined notepad, but it was better than writing on the walls. Jazz had been reluctant to give it to her, too. Why, she had no idea. Who was going to see it? A passing sailfish?
Anyway, she curled her legs underneath her, got the pillow behind her back and turned to a new blank page.
“Dear Sara,” she wrote, remembering where she’d left off. “Jazz brought a bunch of shopping bags into the room, then left us to sort through them. I was thrilled to find underwear-although, jeez, the slime-ball had gotten the most revealing things he could find. I swear, it looked more like he’d shopped at Frederick’s of Hollywood than Victoria’s Secret. Michael didn’t seem to mind, but he played it cool.
“There’s simply no way to forget why we’re here. It’s not a pleasure cruise, and there’s no beach party waiting for us in Grand Cayman.
“I’m just grateful Michael is with me. He thinks he’s failed, that he’s responsible for what’s happened. I can’t agree. It wasn’t his fault he had Charlie for a brother. But I can’t seem to make Michael stop worrying about it and save his strength for when we dock.
“Personally, Sara, I think the real truth is that this whole thing was my fault. And before you say it, yes, I think Dr. Bay was more than idiotic. What I mean…You know the old saying ‘You reap what you sow’? Well, I’ve been ‘sowing’ being kidnapped since Lisa. I know it makes sense that I was obsessed, but I didn’t do near enough to get myself out of that insidious loop.
“I was given tremendous gifts and I squandered them to live in the land of what-if. No more. I am here, today. I am with Michael and he is with me. Together, we’re strong. Even me.
“I-”
He sat in front of her, making her pen jolt like a lightning bolt up the page. “I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
She hid her gasp as he said the words, his face showing her that it wasn’t an idle threat. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? He got you kidnapped, Tate. He stole from me and he’s probably going to get me killed. If I don’t do something about it, we’ll both die, and it’ll be because of Charlie.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter that he did all this. You can’t kill him. He’s your brother.”
“Not anymore.”
“He’ll always be your brother.”
Michael stood up again. “No. I’ve done everything I could to help him. I’ve bailed him out of jail, I’ve given him money for his bookies, I’ve spent thousands putting him in rehab. He just wants more and more, and I have no more to give.”
“Still-”
“Tate, if it was just me, I could see cutting him a little slack, although it wouldn’t be for him but for my father. But to put you here? No. It’s over. It stops. Now.”
“I understand. I really do. But you’ll have to live with whatever choice you make.”