54

NEW YORK CITY

Sarah was glad for days like today, when work had been so busy she’d barely had time to think about anything else. It dulled the deep ache of her brother still being missing.

But when her world slowed down and she entered the door of her suite, loneliness descended. She tried to shake it off. Maybe it was because she’d waved off the requests of a couple of co-workers to join them for Friday night dinner and had headed home instead.

She slipped into yoga pants and a simple T-shirt. As she contemplated what to have for dinner, the doorbell sounded.

She frowned. People didn’t show up unannounced in her building if the bellman was doing his job. He knew her family, though, and which frequent visitors were approved, and he had her permission to let them come on up. But her mother and father were at their home in Chautauqua, and Will would always call. So that left Darcy. She grinned widely as she opened the door. “Hey, Darc—”

But it wasn’t Darcy. It was Jon, holding a large bag of aromatic Thai food.

“Called work and was going to stop by there,” he explained, “but you’d already left. Thought you might like an easy dinner. Maybe some entertainment.” He extended several movie rentals in his other hand.

“Wow, perfect. Who am I to turn down an offer like that?” She waved him in. Leave it to Jon to charm his way in through the friendly doorman. Then again, maybe the doorman had gotten used to seeing Jon when he, Sarah, and Darcy had been working on the Polar Bear Bomber case at her penthouse.

They unpacked the food on the kitchen countertop, pulled up stools, and dove in like neither of them had eaten in days.

“You have no idea how much I needed this.” She gestured with her chopsticks. “Or the company. Thanks.”

His gentle gaze rested on her. “Maybe I do.”

Why did she have the feeling he knew more than he was telling her?

CORVO

The man peered out the bedroom window of a small white house. There were no hotels on the island, but a villager had told him he knew of a house recently vacated and had escorted him there. His contact would bunk on the miniscule sofa in the living room that was a breath away. The pilot was staying with a local family nearby.

The villagers were friendly but seemed wary. They must not receive visitors often. Good, he thought. It would be easier to track Sean. A stranger, especially a redheaded Easterner, would stand out.

But rain had descended, sending the villagers scurrying inside and turning the paths into mudslides. His contact had come back drenched and filthy and said it was hopeless finding anything out tonight. He’d try again in the morning.

The man sank onto the thin mattress. He tried to roll over and almost fell off the narrow bed. As his hand swept the floor, he touched the corner of something hard. He reached further under the bed and pulled out a book. A Bible.

Disgust swept over him. Even here, in the middle of the Atlantic, he couldn’t get away from it. Lately he’d had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being pursued. All the mistakes he’d made in life had loomed even larger.

He flipped open the book to the first page. In the dying light he squinted at what was scribbled there.

To Sean. Light for your path. Love you to the moon and back. Sarah.

He sat up, then jumped up, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling.

So Sean had been here, right here, not long ago.

But where was he now? Still on the island? Or had he already left?

It would be way too long until morning.