In an anonymous motel room outside Rock Ridge, Wisconsin, Gunderman sat before his computer. The screen framed the scowling face of Daniel Whittaker, Chief of the Law Enforcement Division of U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
“I gave you this assignment because you were a perfect fit!” said Whittaker, his crew cut seeming to bristle with outrage. “A uniformed officer with the instincts of an undercover agent! Exemplary record — until now! Do you mind telling me what the hell happened?”
Gunderman swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir. I take full responsibility…”
“No shit, you take full responsibility! That’s not telling me how you, two department officers, and half a dozen uniformed cops managed to lose two suspects and an adult Bald Eagle after you had them surrounded!”
“Sir, I…”
“And then we have this Unidentified White Male, who, according to both the police and your own report, you left hanging in a bear net. I don’t know, but somehow my law enforcement intuition tells me that he should have been considered a person of interest — if not a suspect — and not left alone!”
Gunderman cleared his throat and met Whittaker’s unblinking stare. “Gunderman,” said Whittaker evenly. “Do you know something you’re not reporting?”
“No, sir.”
“I ought to fire you! I’ve got a dozen men arriving in Rock Ridge tomorrow morning, and I want you back in Pennsylvania! It’s bad enough with one missing eagle, I don’t want two! If this crazy goddamned Luna Burke thinks she’s going to grab that female eagle and stash it with another one of her buddies somewhere, she’s got another think coming! Are you listening to me? Do not lose that second eagle. We’re already getting hammered in the press!”
“Yes, sir.”
“This investigation is doing a nose dive. Pull it up!”
Gunderman locked his motel room door and walked to a corner bar he noticed earlier in the day. The bartender poured him a shot of Jim Beam, and he downed it in a gulp. He took a breath and closed his eyes. “Another?” asked the bartender.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
From his barstool outside Rock Ridge, Gunderman could see miles of gently rippling sawgrass and in the distance, a tree island. The trail ahead of him skirted a swamp. He stopped and squinted, as hovering in the sky was what looked like a Snail Kite. They’re endangered, he thought, and reached for the binoculars in his backpack.
Gator on your right, came a lazy drawl.
Gunderman flinched in surprise. He looked down at the alligator’s eyes and nostrils, just visible above the waterline. He backed up a few steps, then regarded the dark-haired man who sat on the ground, leaning against a cypress tree. He’s not big enough to eat you, said the man.
I know, said Gunderman. But usually I’m better at spotting them.
Soon he sat cross-legged, engrossed in the mechanics of a tracking device that could follow the route of a collared panther. Young male, said the man. He shouldn’t be this far north, but they don’t always do what you tell ‘em.
Gunderman rose and followed him through the swamp, until the man stopped abruptly and cocked his head to the left. Draped across a fallen tree was the panther, regarding them with pale and curious eyes. His slender, cream-colored body looked almost boneless. Gunderman gasped and looked up at his new companion. When his eyes returned to the tree, the panther was gone.
Now you see ‘em, now you don’t, said the man.
They parted company at the end of the day, Gunderman to return home, the man to venture deeper into the swamp. How old are you? he asked.
Ten, said Gunderman.
They need help, he said, nodding toward the sloughs and the mudflats.
I’m going to help them, said Gunderman.
Find a way. And when you do, don’t let anyone talk you out of it.
The bartender appeared, holding a bottle and wearing an inquiring look. “Thanks,” said Gunderman, and shook his head. He pulled a bill out of his wallet, slipped it under the glass, and left the bar.
• • •
Luna opened her eyes. Blocks of color throbbed and shifted. Her head hurt. She squinted, and the colors tightened into images. She was in a room.
She moved her fingers, and the material beneath them was soft. She looked to the side, and when the dizziness passed she saw a row of pillows. She was in a bed.
She sat up slowly and groggily, fighting waves of nausea. She recognized the massive bed, the Art Deco furniture, the original Klimts and Toulouse-Lautrecs. She was in Adam’s bedroom in Chicago.
The curtains were drawn, the music low. A half-dozen candles burned in ornate silver candlesticks. An ice bucket held a bottle of champagne. Luna swallowed, her throat dry, and briefly rubbed her eyes. She looked down at herself, clad in lavender silk delicately trimmed with lace.
The door opened and Adam entered, wearing a dark blue suit and carrying an oversized crystal glass. He closed the door, his smile contrite. “Luna,” he said. “I’m sorry about these circumstances. I really am.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Here,” he said, a look of concern on his handsome, craggy face. “It’s water. You should drink a lot of it.”
She drained the glass while Adam solicitously plumped her pillows. “Remember when you used to get overwhelmed?” he asked. “You’d say you couldn’t take it anymore, that you just wanted everyone to leave you alone. And then we’d go away, just the two of us, and it would be great again. Do you remember?”
Luna’s mind moved lazily. Which was real? she wondered. Adam’s solid presence, or the blur of road signs and guest rooms? He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead and smiled encouragingly. “You know, I was afraid you’d forgotten what we have together.”
Luna looked down at her silk negligee, at the glint of diamonds around her neck.
“Do you like them?” he asked. “There’s a matching robe on the chair. Keisha and Violet helped you. You were a little under the weather.”
He leaned forward and touched her cheek. “I love you, Luna,” he said, his dark eyes on hers. “Never in my life have I loved a woman the way I love you. Don’t you see how epic we are together? Come home.”
Home. She tilted further off balance, once again wrapped in his aura of invincibility, the shimmering ghosts of spectacular houses and penthouse apartments lined up behind him. “You’ll always have a home when you’re with me,” he said, and kissed her deeply. She began to respond. She closed her eyes, and leaned into the swell of the ocean.
There’s some endangered birds nesting over there, he said, both of them standing on the foredeck of the Luna-sea in the blazing sun off Majorca. World Wildlife Fund wants to talk to you about them.
Why? she asked.
Because I just bought the island for you. Merry Christmas.
She opened her eyes, expecting the sun and the sea, but instead she saw a black SUV barreling through the night. Would you shut up? Roland demanded, stopping her torrent of insults with a gag, her flailing arms with some kind of straitjacket. He removed the gag, and held an evil-smelling cloth to her face.
She flinched, shook her head, and once again she was in Adam’s bedroom. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“No!” she said. “You kidnapped me!”
He gave her a rueful look. “I would have taken you out to dinner, but you wouldn’t answer your phone.”
Her expression of disbelief darkened. She pulled further away, and gathered her legs beneath her.
“I have a deal for you,” said Adam encouragingly. “Let’s go away for a couple of days. If you tell me where Mars is, I’ll have him delivered right back to your friends in Pennsylvania. We’ll spend the weekend together, and then if you still want to leave, I won’t stop you. How does that sound? Don’t worry about the legal stuff, it’s not an issue.”
Luna winced, unable to connect his kindly expression and congenial tone with her gagged and straitjacketed ride with Roland. She looked down at herself, resplendent in silk and diamonds.
“Come here,” he said, his voice soothing, his touch gentle. “I know all this has been too much. I’m sorry.” He took her hand. “I did something to show how much I care about you. I know you had a rough time when you were a kid. I thought maybe if you came to terms with it, you’d feel better. Maybe it’s what gives you those nightmares. I thought maybe I could make them stop.”
Her eyes widened, and he continued.
“I have the contact information of your foster parents. I had no idea there were so many. I can deal with these people any way you’d like me to, if it would give you some closure.”
Luna gasped. She yanked her hand away and stood abruptly. The look on her face made Adam recoil. “You had no right!” she said in a furious undertone.
“But I was trying to help you!”
Her voice rose. ”I don’t need your help! I don’t need you spying on me and putting bugs in my phone and digging up things that are none of your business!Where are my clothes?”
“You need me more than you think!”
He stood, and an edge crept into his voice. “You and I are great together, and you know it! You want to set up an environmental foundation? I’ll fund it! I told you I’d build some green companies, and I will! We’ve only been married six months!” His eyes darkened. “And what the hell are you doing with that kid?”
When she stiffened, Adam checked himself and softened his tone. “I’ll do anything you want. But without me, you’re going to have a hard time.”
Luna locked her eyes on his. “I can survive just fine without you. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, unless you tell me why I can’t.”
Neither of them moved. Adam held her gaze. “Because it might get out that you stabbed a cop when you were twelve,” he said, and paused. “Twice.”
Luna’s expression turned to ice. “Let it get out,” she said, and started toward the door.
“You won’t get past Roland,” called Adam.
She scanned the room, her eyes pausing on the windows and the balcony doors. He stepped forward and closed his arms around her. “You belong to me,” he whispered, and kissed her.
For the smallest of moments he believed he had won her back, so the knee that slammed into his groin came as a complete surprise. At first it didn’t hurt, but then a wall of pain struck him with such force he doubled over, feeling as if he were about to vomit. Luna reached for the dresser, seized a heavy silver candlestick, and swung it against his head.
Adam heard a thud. He felt another blaze of pain, and the deep wool rug rushed toward him. Through blurred vision he saw an auburn curl and a sliver of blue. “I don’t belong to anyone,” Luna whispered, her face inches from his, then everything went black.
She crossed to the door and opened it a crack. The hallway was empty and silent, so she crept forward. Four flights down the grand staircase was the front door. “Not now,” came Roland’s voice, accompanied by his footsteps. “He’ll have to call you back.”
Luna returned to the bedroom, saw Adam lying motionless, and locked the door. She pulled the curtains away from the south windows, revealing a dark balcony bedecked with iron furniture and flowering plants. Rain fell heavily, spattering the garden beyond. Luna eyed the luxurious white swags undulating along the curtains, yanked two of them down, and tied them together using a foolproof knot Harry had taught her.
She froze at the sound of the knock. “Adam,” came Roland’s voice. “It’s important. You gotta take this call.” A few moments went by. “Adam. Adam?”
A key slid into the lock.
Luna steeled herself. “Dammit, Roland!” she called, making her voice sound lazy and sleepy. “Will you give us ten minutes? He’s asleep.”
The key slid from the lock. “All right,” came the voice, along with the sound of retreating footsteps.
She exhaled with relief. As she grabbed the swags and headed for the balcony, she glanced down at herself. She reached for the floor length hem, pulled it up, and knotted it mid-thigh. Quickly she slipped into the robe, repeated the process, and reinforced it with the silk belt. On her way to the balcony, she stopped. Her hand went to her throat.
Frantically she searched the tops of the dressers and the shelves. She yanked open the drawers of the bedside tables, leaving them jutting haphazardly, and rushed into the bathroom. Her eyes raced over glass and marble and there it was, curled into a crystal bowl next to one of the sinks.
Once again, she felt a wave of relief as she fastened the leather cord with its silver bead around her neck. She crossed the bedroom and stepped out onto the balcony, her gown quickly soaked by rain. As she double-knotted one end of the swag to the balcony railing, she felt a spin of vertigo: four floors up was very, very high. Spurred by the thought of Roland’s key in the lock, she gave the knot a final tug and climbed over the railing.
Luna grasped the swag in a death grip and lowered herself as fast as she dared, second by second, inch by inch, until her feet hit the flagstone walkway. She sprinted barefoot down the quiet residential street toward LaSalle, her drenched silk robe loosened and trailing behind her. When she reached the corner she peered through the downpour at the oncoming headlights, and raised her arm.
Three cabs screeched to a halt, and a crash of metal sent a taillight spinning past her feet. Nearly blinded by rain, she ran from the commotion. Half a block later she raised her arm again, and a single cab stopped beside her. She opened the door, climbed in, and the cab pulled away.
“And where are we going on this dark night, my lady?” asked the driver, in a musical Caribbean accent. He regarded her in the rear view mirror, frowning in concern. “Do you need help?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “But thank you.”
“Where should I take you?”
“I hadn’t gotten that far.”
“A friend,” he replied. “Your best friend. Where does she live?”
Luna hugged herself. “I have only one friend in Chicago, and I don’t know if she’s still my friend.”
“Let’s try. If she doesn’t let you in, we will come up with another plan.”
“Thank you so much,” said Luna, then let out a soft groan. “I don’t have any money!”
“This is no surprise to me,” said the driver, his smile returning. “I could see when I picked you up that you had no pockets. It is no problem, I will win the Story Slam on Saturday and drink all night for free.”
“Wait,” she said, raising her hands and finding a large stud in each ear. “Here,” she said, unscrewing a diamond and handing it through the divider. “It’s real. And here,” she added, removing the other. “Take this one, too. And thank you for being a kind man.”
They pulled up to a wide brick building. “I will wait until you are inside, my lady!” he called as she slid out of the car and hurried through the rain. In the vestibule she leaned on a buzzer, waited, then buzzed again. “Goddammit, who is it?” came a voice.
“Lyllis?”
There was a pause. “Luna?”
“Yes!”
The door buzzed. Luna waved at the cabdriver, glanced at the elevator, then took the stairs to the fifth floor. She opened the stairwell door. Waiting for her was Lyllis, wearing a multicolored kaftan and an expression of astonishment. Luna hesitated in the doorway, ready to bolt back down the stairs.
Lyllis scowled. “Those sonsabitches,” she snapped. She held out her arms, and Luna rushed into her wide embrace.
“Damn!” said Lyllis, holding her at arm’s length. “You look like a porn star who fell overboard.” Her eyebrows rose at the sight of the diamond necklace. “A rich one.”
“Can I use your phone?”
“Get in here,” Lyllis replied, and towed her into the apartment.
• • •
Roland unlocked the bedroom door and found Adam on the floor, slowly regaining consciousness as rain pelted sideways through an open window. He called Seth Connolly, Adam’s personal physician, who arrived halfway through the seismic event that followed. Roland thought he had seen his employer’s emotional range, but he was wrong.
Adam erupted into volcanic fury. He roared expletives while clutching his crotch, swaying dizzily, and bleeding from a good-sized head wound, all while fending Seth off and refusing to go to the hospital. Roland called an ambulance and then the police, reporting that two men had climbed through a window, attacked Adam Matheson, and fled with a wallet full of cash. When Seth went to signal the arriving EMTs, Adam sank onto a chair.
“Roland,” he said, with seething malevolence. “Get her.”
Roland followed the stretcher as they rolled it toward the ambulance. “She’s got to be at Lyllis’s,” Adam hissed. “You get her, and you contain her. We’re going to the island!”
For the first time in fourteen years, Roland lost control of his expression. He didn’t know what his face displayed, but whatever it was infuriated Adam still further. “Don’t you fail me!” he snapped, as the medics lifted his stretcher.
Seth followed the ambulance in his Lexus. Roland climbed into his BMW and headed, slowly, for Lyllis’s. It’s the concussion, he thought, remembering a half dozen of his teammates talking like lunatics after they’d been knocked cold on the field. But he knew it was wishful thinking, and Adam meant every word.
The island was off the coast of Spain, a sunny paradise of blue water and white beaches. Adam had bought the whole damned thing for her. On one end he’d built a small — for him — eco-friendly villa. On the other, fenced and off limits, was some kind of endangered bird group home. Twice Adam had whisked her there, and she’d returned rested and better able to cope. Apparently he planned to do it again, even though Luna obviously had no intention of climbing aboard the Gulfstream herself.
Jesus Christ, he thought, trying to consider the ramifications of what had the makings of an international crime. Officials at both airports knew Adam Matheson, and would be sympathetic if they saw his young wife out like a light. Bad case of the flu, he could hear Adam say.
But what would happen when she woke up? He tried to imagine Luna transforming into a halfway decent Matheson wife: lunching, shopping, decorating, gossiping about whose husband was screwing whose nanny. Failing, he pictured her bashing him on the head and hijacking the aptly-named Luna-sea, which was what this whole damned thing had been from the start.
She was a pain in the ass. A freak. An orphan. Who would miss her if she disappeared? Okay: who would miss her who could affect him directly?
Lyllis.
You are one-half of a fucked-up bromance, she shouted at him years ago, after a cellphone captured him beating two men long after they quit fighting. She stopped referring to Adam by name, and instead asked questions like: are you still going to London with that arrogant motherfucker, or can we finally go to the lake?
She had come to the hospital every day after the tackle. She stuck with him when the doctors delivered the news, when he was drunk for what seemed like six months straight. She was supportive of his new job, until it became clear that turning his back on the sport he loved was not a positive choice. Why can’t you spend an hour and talk to his team? she demanded, back when Michael was in middle school. He’s your nephew! Who has the chance to make a difference in those kids’ lives — one of the best defensive linemen who ever lived, or Adam Matheson’s enforcer?
He pulled up in front of a wide brick building, and glanced at the clock. 2:04 a.m. He didn’t even have her keys anymore. Roland paused, watching the rain, then looked up at Lyllis’s window. The light was on. She’d be expecting him, so there was no point in trying to surprise her. He hadn’t brought his kidnapping equipment, he thought disgustedly, so why was he even here? He remembered the red-haired brat in her blue t-shirt, raising her middle finger at Florida’s wealthiest financier.
He tried to figure out how he could play the middle. That finger was nothing compared to how Lyllis would react when she found out what he had done to Luna. She would probably take Luna wherever she was going herself, knowing he’d think twice before trying to stop her.
Which was true.
He glanced back up at the apartment. If the two of them were in there, they wouldn’t be for long. He had a small window: Adam was probably getting CT scanned, and Roland knew from experience that doctors wouldn’t let you shout into your cell phone while you were inside the machine. Maybe they’d get fed up and sedate him, and give everyone a break.
Roland came up with a strategy. Lyllis wouldn’t go anywhere near her car, since he knew the make, plate number, and where she kept it. He’d wait an hour, then call the security company and tell them to watch her apartment and her garage. He would tell Adam she hadn’t been home, and that he checked her garage and her friends’ apartments. He would do enough busy coordinating that Adam would think he was doing his job instead of avoiding it.
Roland stepped on the gas. There was a chance getting whacked upside the head would knock some sense into the man, but the odds were not good.
• • •
Lyllis wrapped Luna in a towel, listened to her brief summary, then handed her a cell phone. Luna called Warren. She had never heard him sound so angry.
“I’m going to kill both those bastards,” he said. “Stanley called me, I got some guys heading for Chicago right now.”
“No! It’ll just make things worse! Besides, I don’t know what I’ve done to Adam, when I left he was out cold.”
“What happened?”
“I, um…y’know. Hit him.”
Warren sighed. “Look, my guys are going to get you to Minnesota. I got buddies there with a cabin, that sonofabitch could hire an army and he wouldn’t get through ‘em. Where are you?”
“At a friend’s.”
“What friend?”
“Uh…Lyllis. You don’t know her.”
“Lyllis! Wait a minute — she’s not Roland Edwards’s girlfriend, is she?”
“Where else was I supposed to go?”
“Will you get out of there?”
Luna took a quick hot shower, emerged in Lyllis’s pink and turquoise robe, and found Lyllis hanging up her phone. ”My cousin works the night shift at the hospital, and she said Adam came in with a bloody head a half hour ago. So you didn’t kill him, but let’s just say he wasn’t a happy man. Follow me.”
Lyllis bustled into the bedroom and begin pulling clothes out of her closet. “Here,” she said, tossing her a navy button-down shirt and a striped scarf. “On you, it’ll be a dress with a belt. Think Garbo,” she added, tossing her a hat and a pair of sunglasses. “And take off that bling. Give it here, I’m gonna hide it.”
Luna unfastened the diamond necklace. “We need to go right now,” said Lyllis. “There’s only one fight in the world Roland Edwards will back away from, and that’s with me. But let’s not push our luck.”