“Oh, baby, who told you that? Your old man, I bet. You made the right decision getting away from him. He’s muy loco, understand?”
She bit the inside of her cheek to conceal her emotions. It’s just a game, she told herself, and then a flash of inspiration hit her. “Hey, so, tell me something. Last week, just before he — my father — kicked you off the boat, he said something to you.”
Raul’s eager expression darkened at the memory. He turned his eyes forward, staring into the red glare of brake lights. Jenna sensed a return to the smoldering anger that had initially greeted her. “What did he say?” she pressed.
Raul grimaced. “Like I said, loco. He told Carlos that if he ever saw us again, if we ever tried to get some payback, he’d kill us both and then go after our family.”
The threat was so unlike Noah that Jenna had to fight back the urge to accuse Raul of lying, and yet, if she had learned anything in the last few hours, it was that she really didn’t know anything about her father. It was the reason she had asked the question in the first place. “I thought you said your family is still in Cuba.”
She winced even as she heard herself speak. It was the wrong thing to say, and if she wasn’t more careful, he would see right through her.
Raul did not seem to notice, however. Anger had loosened his tongue. “He knew about them. Knew their names. He said if anything ever happened to him…” He glanced over, concern creasing his forehead. “Or to you, that he would have his people hunt them down and feed them to the sharks.”
That definitely did not sound like her father. If true, it explained why Noah had not been more concerned about the possibility that the Villegas brothers might seek retribution for his insult.
His people? What did that mean? What was Noah involved in that gave him ‘people’ who can go to Cuba and assassinate someone?
Then another thought occurred to her. What if Noah’s fire alarm was nothing more than a kill order on the Villegas family?
Her gut told her it had to be more than that. If Noah did indeed have ‘people,’ then the fire alarm was her best chance of finding them, and maybe turning the tables on whomever it was that wanted her dead.
“Don’t worry,” she heard herself saying. “He’ll never figure out that I came to you.”
“Hey, I ain’t afraid of that old man.”
She decided silence was the best answer. Maybe fear of Noah’s reprisal would make him think twice about making any kind of move on her. The lapse in conversation lasted for nearly a mile. In the distance, Jenna could see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles at the very spot where Mercy’s truck had rolled. She wondered if Mercy was still there, still trapped in the truck or maybe wrapped around a tree on the roadside.
She glanced at the clock on the radio display. It was late. She figured it had taken her an hour and a half to get to Raul’s club from Mercy’s trailer, and maybe another thirty minutes had passed since then. More than enough time for the firefighters to pull Mercy out of the truck and get her to a hospital. Mercy was alive, she had to be. The traffic snarl was just the cops doing what they did, measuring the skid marks and taking pictures. No doubt, someone had noticed the bullet holes in the truck. That would make it a crime scene.
For the first time since starting back toward Key West, Jenna found herself wondering what had become of Zack and the other men in the sedan, and she settled a little lower into the Corvette’s passenger seat.
Raul evidently noticed. “You worried the cops might see you?”
“Is it that obvious?” she lied.
“Just be cool,” Raul advised. “Don’t give them a reason to give you a second look.”
She heard an undercurrent of anxiety in his voice, and she realized he was just as concerned as she was, albeit for very different reasons. This might well be her last chance to bail out and turn herself over to the authorities.
Her thoughts drifted back to the last time she had seen flashing emergency lights, sheriff’s deputies and firefighters responding to the explosion at the marina. She remembered the two men claiming to be FBI agents who had gunned down the deputies…and Noah. Would they be here, too? The killers had the resources to insinuate themselves into the investigation. They might even now be searching for her.
Somehow, being with Raul seemed a lot safer than trusting the authorities to protect her.
“I can do cool,” she replied, giving him a reassuring nod.
As they inched closer to the flashing lights, Jenna saw vehicles in the right lane merging into the left ahead of them, shunted aside by a line of guttering orange flares and hastily deployed traffic cones. Raul followed the lead of the car that pushed in front of him, veering to the extreme left edge of the highway. The Corvette was not made for such low speeds, and the delicate job of accelerating and clutching kept his attention fully occupied as they rolled past the crash scene. Jenna risked a casual glance off to the right. She saw the battered Ford pickup resting on the deck of a flatbed tow truck. It was surrounded by men in uniform. She looked back at Raul. Just like that, they were through. The road opened up to two lanes, and motorists charged ahead like racehorses out of the gate.
“See?” Raul said cheerily, letting the Corvette do what it did best. “Stay cool, and there’s no problem.”
“No problem,” echoed Jenna, wishing that she could believe it.
15
Jenna awoke with a start, dismayed that she had so easily surrendered to the seductive embrace of sleep. A person was never more vulnerable than when they were sleeping, and she had let her guard down with a potential enemy seated right next to her.
She straightened and looked down to see if her clothes had been disturbed — there was no indication that they had — and then glanced over at Raul. He smiled back at her.
She looked away from his unnerving gaze and out the window. The Corvette moved slowly, no longer on the highway. The constant rate of speed and the persistent thrum of the engine had lulled her to sleep. The change in speed as they exited the highway, had woken her.
“Why did you turn off?” The question burst from her, revealing her trepidation.
“Gotta gas up,” he replied, but she saw his eyes flicker ever so slightly.
He’s lying. Jenna felt a chill pass through her, but forced a nod. “Maybe we could get something to eat. I’m starving.”
He grunted and returned his attention to the road.
Jenna stared through the windshield looking for some hint of where they were, but the road ahead was featureless. They could be anywhere, but she was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a gas station on this remote tree-lined stretch of asphalt.
She glanced down at the door lever. The Corvette was barely crawling forward, maybe twenty miles an hour. A leap from the car would cost her only a few more bruises, but what then? Run?
Running was looking like a pretty good option.
She forced herself to relax as she mentally rehearsed her escape. She would have to release the catch on her seatbelt. She might be able to do that without Raul noticing, but the dashboard indicator would give her away. The door had electronic locks. She recalled that they had automatically engaged when the car had gotten up to speed earlier. If she tried the handle first and the door didn’t open, that too would reveal her intentions and give Raul time to take action.
She would have to synchronize her actions perfectly. Seatbelt with my left hand, the lock with my right.
The engine revved suddenly, but only because Raul had depressed the clutch and shifted to neutral. The abruptness of the move caused Jenna to falter and miss the perfect moment to initiate her plan. But her curiosity overrode her urge to flee. She looked forward and saw a metal fence on either side of the roadway. A man swung a gate open to admit them.