CHAPTER 26

“Hold the elevator.”

Impatient to return to Caroline, to lay his heart at her feet for forgiveness, Blaine pushed the hold button and peered around the elevator door to see what the holdup was. Eloise was laboring to get Irene’s wheelchair into the cubicle before she missed the ride.

“Here, let me help,” Randy offered, stepping out and taking over.

“I’m out of puff,” the elder sister exclaimed, leaning against the rail next to Blaine. “Too much nightlife.”

“And the brake was half on,” Randy observed, remedying the situation.

“Well, that just takes the cake.” Irene twisted in the chair, addressing her sister. “And neither one of us with enough sense to get a cab and come home,” she chuckled. “But we had a grand time.”

“I’m glad your girls could use our tickets to the island, though,”

Eloise said. “I don’t think Reenie and I—”

Blaine zeroed in on the word girls. “You know where the girls are?”

“Why, yes. They went on the private island tour in our place. I called them first thing this morning so the tickets wouldn’t go to waste. Didn’t they tell you?” Irene frowned. “I insisted that they ask you first.”

“Yes, Reenie did insist,” Eloise told them. “I heard her.”

Free tickets and no parents—what scatterbrained teenager could resist?

Armies of anger and relief vied for the field of Blaine’s mind.

He’d wring their necks.

Thank You, God.

Reenie read the answer in his silence. “Oh, my. I am so sorry.”

“You must be frantic,” Eloise said.

Relief, reinforced by gratitude, won. The victory practically lifted Blaine off his feet. “Frantic, yes. Sorry?” He grabbed Eloise in a bear hug. “I love you.”

“Oh my,” she tittered. “That was worth the fifty bucks apiece.”

“Praise the Lord,” Randy cheered from the corner.

Blaine straightened from planting a loud kiss on Irene’s cheek.

He felt the same grateful joy he saw on Randy’s face. Even when he went to church, Blaine wasn’t the demonstrative type, but he couldn’t help himself. “Amen, brother,” he whispered, broken by the grace filling his heart. “Amen.”

God was in charge.

He had to tell Caroline. The moment the elevator door opened, he raced down the corridor and into the hotel room. It had been restored to some semblance of order—suitcases packed, beds made. Inspectors Caro and Santos were gone. Hector sat at the table on a cell phone. Dana and Caroline stood beyond the sliding glass door on the balcony.

Caroline turned and ran inside. Like him, she still hadn’t showered from their dunking—that seemed like yesterday—but even with her naturally curly hair frizzed, face without makeup, and clothes rumpled, he’d never seen her so lovely.

“They know where the card is!” she told him, breathless.

“I know where the girls are!” he said at the same time.

They froze just short of each other.

She thawed first. “The girls? You found them?” Blaine caught her up as she bolted into his arms. “Where? Where are they?”

“Horseback riding and fishing on that private island tour Eloise and Irene told us about.”

“How do you know?” Hector’s voice bounced off the private sphere of elation enveloping Blaine and Caroline.

Blaine loved her. He needed her. He needed her God. “I’m so sorry.”

“How do you know, Mr. Madison?” Hector repeated.

“You were upset,” Caroline answered. The forgiveness shining in her eyes was a balm to his guilt-ravaged conscience.

“We met two ladies in the elevator,” Randy explained to the inspector. “They said they gave the girls their tickets this morning.”

Caroline frowned suddenly. “Annie would have left a note . . .

and if she didn’t—”

“Perhaps the burglar found the note,” Hector reasoned. “In which case . . .”

“My babies are still in danger?” Caroline’s face blanched.

First they were safe. Now they weren’t. Blaine steeled himself against the merry-go-round of emotions. “Then we’re going to the island . . . now.”

A quick phone call from Hector, and two boats manned with police waited at the waterfront. From his expression, Caroline knew that neither he nor Manny Santos, who followed in the second craft, wanted Caroline or Blaine to go along, but one look at the bulldog set of Blaine’s chin killed any objection.

Grateful not to be left behind to worry and wonder, Caroline held on to the rail of the lead craft, the wind whipping the loose tendrils of her hair about her face in the salt-water spray as she clung to the rail, knuckles white. A few feet away, Blaine stood, braced against wind and water as though daring it—or anything— to get in his way. If only Karen could see him now, she’d know just how much he loved her. She’d never doubt again. And Annie— An invisible knife slashed at Caroline’s throat. God, keep them safe. God keep them safe, she prayed over and over, leaving it to the Holy Spirit to embellish.

Ahead, the island’s gentle green hills with patches of salted gray rock and a fringe of white sand rose against a canvas of azure sky and crystal blue sea. Gradually, the brightly colored dots on the island beach took the shape of fishermen at the water’s edge.

Some were kicked back in lounge chairs with attached rod-holders, while their more avid counterparts stood, attentive to the tension of the lines strung from their reels. Behind them, tropical trees shaded a market of thatched-roof stalls before climbing up the hilly terrain.

It wasn’t a large place, but it could take forever to search.

Squinting, Caroline made out some movement on the clear patches of rock further upland. Like toy horses carrying dolls, she thought. Hopefully, her living dolls.

Instead of beaching the boat directly, the helmsman veered off and circled counterclockwise around the island. A cluster of paddleboats manned by swim-suited tourists forced him to shift down to a slow drift toward the dock where a ferry shuttle was moored. By the time their craft tied up, curiosity seekers had gravitated toward the landing.

Blaine climbed onto the salt-treated decking and turned, extending his hand to Caroline. “Come on, sweet Caroline.”

She answered with a strained smile. They were both trying hard not to come unglued. As Blaine pulled her up, she took comfort in his firm grip, equating its effect to the invisible hand that reassured her spirit—warm, loving, able.

Once she had her footing, she linked her arm in his. “Let’s go find those little prodigals.”

“I think the prodigals have found you,” Hector said from the edge of the pier.

He pointed to an approaching paddleboat where two gangly teens worked the pedals for all they were worth, cutting through the flotilla of their elders.

“Mom!”

“Dad!”

Caroline rushed with Blaine for the spot of beach where the girls were headed.

Happy as clams, safe and sound little clams, the pair alternately waved and paddled until they reached the beach, where Caroline, Blaine, and company waited.

“What’s going on?” Annie asked as an island staff member took the craft.

“Yeah,” Karen said, taking in their uniformed company.

“What’s with the police escort?”

“What’s with leaving the hotel and not telling anyone where you were going?” Despite the reprimand in her tone, Caroline grabbed Annie, wet swimsuit and all, and hugged her as though to never let go again.

“We did,” her daughter protested against her shoulder.

“We did,” Karen reiterated at her father’s skeptical look. “I wrote it on the back of Miz C’s note and put it on the bathroom counter. Honest, dad.”

“I believe you, baby.” With that, Blaine pulled Karen to him, pressing her head against him. “I just thank God you’re safe.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, squirming away with a bewildered expression.

“Have you girls noticed anyone on the island watching you?”

Hector intervened.

“Like, I wish,” Karen snorted.

Annie pulled a face. “There’s nobody but old people here, except for the boys running the paddleboat pier.”

If the situation had been any other, Caroline might have laughed at the attitude of grave injustice in the girls’ replies. “What did you two expect on a seniors’ tour?”

Instead of answering, Annie looked past her, the derision on her thinned lips transforming to a delighted smile. “Manny, what brings you here?”

“He’s an undercover agent for the U.S. Postal Service,” Caroline announced.

“Omigosh.” Annie gave Karen a startled look. “The postal service?”

“It’s the card. I didn’t mean to lose it.” For once, Karen could not get close enough to her father. “Am I under arrest?” she said in a small voice.

“No, but you’re one lucky little girl,” Manny answered. “You both are.”

“You’re a cop?” Annie was still unconvinced.

Grinning, Manny dug his badge out of his baggy jeans and flashed it.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“By your standards, over the hill,” he replied before turning to Karen. “Remember the guy you saw in the caves? You haven’t seen him or anyone weird around here, have you?”

“No, just old people.”

With her brow knit, Karen reminded Caroline of her father when he was vexed.

“Is it illegal to mail a Mexican birthday card for somebody in the States?” Karen asked, thoroughly confused.

“Were there drugs in it?” Annie asked, just as bewildered. “Is John a drug smuggler?”

Karen’s gaze widened. “And he was getting me to move his stash?”

Hector interrupted the adolescents’ increasingly excited interrogation. “Why don’t we move this back to the boats?” he said to Manny. “I’ll question the girls, and you take the other crew and search the island, just in case.”

Manny high-fived him. “You got it, man.” Turning, he gave Annie a wink. “Babe, if I really was who I pretended to be, your momma would have to watch me like a hawk.”

“I already was,” Caroline informed him. “Blaine, too.”

Back at the hotel, Hector ordered dinner for everyone delivered to the room, instead of joining the other Edenton travelers on a preplanned farewell dinner cruise. Having had enough of Mexican cuisine, those remaining behind munched Chinese carry-out, while Hector questioned the girls for any other hints they might have to help the investigation.

“So I got John in trouble by losing the card?” Karen’s lips had thinned to a bloodless line with the weight of her disregard for the rules.

“And yourselves,” Blaine pointed out. “We were frantic.”

Karen squeezed her father’s hand. “I am so sorry, Daddy. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t.” While his tone was stern, the hug he gave her was eloquent. “But we all make mistakes that we’re sorry for.”

He chanced a glance at Caroline, her wince of a smile small consolation for the guilt he still felt at blowing up at her.

Manny Santos arrived.

“We found no one suspicious on the island,” he told them, his face a mirror of disappointment. “But Inspector Caro has agreed to station men in the hotel just in case Rocha sends someone back to visit.” He picked up a cold egg roll and unwrapped it. “But chances are much better that he’s got all his thugs looking for his nephew and John Chandler, since the search here was a bust.”

“So you think the girls are out of danger?” Blaine asked. It was too simple a conclusion to what had been a complex conspiracy.

Manny shrugged. “Anything is possible with Rocha, but with Chandler and Javier Rocha on the run, the odds are Jorge Rocha will think they decided to cut out on their own with the card.

We’re the only ones who know the card was mailed.”

“But they could kill John for a card he doesn’t have, right?”

Karen asked, concerned.

Blaine gave his daughter an incredulous look. “Don’t tell me you are still smitten by that manipulating jerk? Don’t you know how close you were to being involved in contraband smuggling and possibly being murdered in the process?”

She gave him a You are so overreacting look. It settled like a lit match to the keg of tumultuous emotions bottled up inside. But before he could explode, Caroline pulled the fuse.

“It’s hard to separate the crook from the charm of first love, isn’t it, sweetie?”

Maybe it was a woman thing, he thought, noting the kindling of feminine understanding between the two. As far as Blaine was concerned, Chandler had been a conniving, silver-tongued devil from the start.

“Maybe John got snookered in with the bad guys like we did,”

Annie observed. “Only he can’t get out.”

“I can’t believe these women,” Blaine exclaimed, looking to Hector and Manny for support.

“You gotta pay to play, man.” Manny shoved the remains of the egg roll into his mouth.

“Just hope we find him before the bad guys do,” Hector said.

Later, after the agents left them to Inspector Caro’s guards, Blaine held back as Caroline and the girls offered a prayer for John to be found safe and alive. Personally, Blaine wanted to snap the kid’s neck with his bare hands. Instead, Blaine prayed that it was really over—that his family was safe.

Lord, just deliver us home to Pennsylvania tomorrow, as far away from Jorge Rocha and his likes as possible. And thank You, Father, for Caroline.

Leaving the girls to their beauty ritual, which involved the splashing and smearing of every pricey product known to womankind, Blaine followed the woman of his heart out on the balcony afterward. Instinct told him not all was well.

“What’s wrong, Caroline?”

It was a balmy night, but she rubbed her arms as though chilled.

“I was just looking at the moon and thinking.” She hesitated.

“About us.”

Blaine had hoped her discomfiture was about Rocha, not him.

“I thought you’d accepted my apology.” He turned her so that he could see her face in the moonlight. Her eyes were bright . . . too bright. God, I can’t lose her now.

“Tell me what you want me to say . . . what you want me to do.

Caroline, I love you. I know I hurt you, but I was crazy with the idea of losing my daughter.”

She smiled. “I know. It’s just . . .”

“Just what? Tell me. I’ll fix it.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s something I have to fix myself. I have to give it over to God.” Pulling away from him, she faced the tropical panorama of the bay, buffered by white sand and the hotels. “It’s just that when you blew up at me, it was like a dart from the past.” She sighed. “All the insecurities my ex-husband nurtured in me came flooding back . . . how stupid and inadequate he made me feel.”

“Dear God, I am so sorry.” Blaine buried his face in the cradle of her neck and shoulder.

“I know you are.” She ran her fingers up the side of his cheek, leaning her head against his. “And I forgive you. Your reaction was perfectly understandable. Perfectly forgivable. The imperfection is with me and my own insecurities.”

“Caroline.” Blaine pulled her around, looking down into her tear-pooled gaze. “Sweet Caroline.” Her cheeks were hot and moist to his touch, confirming what he knew. She’d been crying before he joined her. He’d made her cry.

God, give me the words.

“You are a blessing, sent straight from heaven to bring this dead heart back to life. No,” Blaine stumbled. “This dead soul. This is going to sound corny and canned, but, sweet Caroline, I was so lost.

Lost in work, lost in fatherhood. Lost in life, lost in faith . . . until I met you. You found me, Caroline. You made me see with the laughter in your eyes, the love in your heart . . . and above all—”

Blaine’s voice broke—“the light in your soul. Because of you and your wisdom so far beyond mine, God is real to me now.” He pointed to the starlit sky above them.

“He hung the moon and those stars for man to mark time and place by, to live and love by.” He moistened his lips, but his mouth was as dehydrated of water as his life had been of the living water before Caroline. “Live and love with me, Caroline, for the rest of our lifetime.”

Blaine held his breath as she cupped his jaw with her hands. Her chin trembling, she rose on tiptoe and gave him his answer—with a kiss.