The hard packed sand berm at the end of the parking lot provided natural cover from which they examined the marina. There was only a scattering of vehicles in the long gravel lot between them and the docks. They could have gotten closer if they had parked. But it was locked in with a small channel of water on the left and a hill with ragged sea grass on the right. That's why Alicia had made Brett leave the car a half-mile down the road. With this terrain, it was an impediment. It would just get them bottled in.

Blass was either brazen or stupid. His battered pickup was right up front, close to the pier. He was open to the entire marina with no easy means of escape. If he was forced to retreat, he'd have to fight his way all the way to the other end, where there was only one way out.

He unloaded bags from the back, while the Holy Beast stood a few feet from the passenger door staring at the silver water. She looked a little less like a cheerleader than the last time Alicia had seen her. She had done something with her hair. Between the white streaks and the sullen look on her face, she seemed to have gone Emo in the last few days. Although she still wore the same plain-Jane jeans and T-shirt as before.

It wasn't much of a disguise.

Behind her, a line of boats stretched out, and behind them, the ocean lit by a dying day. The rippling looked like Christmas tinsel in a gentle breeze. Alicia thought of her parent's fake tree draped with the glittery stuff in drunken abandon, a nearby vent giving motion to the strands.

"I think we're going to need a bigger boat," Brett said peering through his binoculars.

"If you have to be such an ass, could you at least come up with appropriate lines?"

He ignored her and adjusted the focus.

Blass slammed the tailgate shut and loaded himself up with a backpack over one shoulder and duffle-bags in each hand. He went over and spoke with Amy. It was brief, a few words and he was walking away heading alone to the docked ships.

"They're splitting up," she said.

"This is our chance. I'll get the girl, you deal with him." He sketched out each of their courses in the sand with his finger, sending him around the edge and keeping behind the protective bank while sending Alicia out along the canal to the marina.

Alicia rebelled at letting Brett take charge but she forced herself to push down the emotions and revulsion at taking an order from this halfwit, because she had been thinking the same thing before he opened up his mouth. Amy might be less likely to go with him than she would a woman, but Alicia doubted Brett could ever pull the trigger on Blass if it became necessary. Better it be her, than have him fuck it up.

That would be all she needed. Alicia could envision it: Brett snafus the operation and she'd get called onto the mat in New Hampshire. What would they do with her? She shuddered inwardly, shaking off the negative thoughts and the feeling of dread.

"What are we waiting for?" She stood and headed on her circuitous route toward the dock at a brisk pace. She heard Brett's feet crunching on the dirt, scurrying toward the Beast.

***

The brine of the sea filled Amy's sinuses like a head cold. The vastness of it was disorienting. It was like the moment she was released from the bunker. Only instead of having an expanded sense of everything, this was a blanket covering it all. The stench of salt, seaweed, and fish clogged up her senses. Whatever the hell she might be, she wasn't meant for the ocean. How would she survive floating, surrounded by it?

R.J. was fading into that sensory fog. It felt like he was moving a mile away from her with each step. Amy considered running after him. He had told her to stay put while he checked things out and made sure the boat was still waiting for them. But something was wrong. A beating pulse was carried in the air and someone else was around.

A dark silhouette stood on the gleaming white boat R.J. approached. It was a man. Amy could tell that much by his bulk and stance. But it bothered her she couldn't smell him and get a sense of who he was or what he was feeling.

R.J. stopped suddenly and the duffle-bags fell from his hands. Slowly, he made his way over to the ship and climbed aboard. That wasn't the plan. He was supposed to come get her, once he checked things out. Was this it? Was he leaving without her?

She sniffed the horrid air, trying to focus all of her concentration on pushing past the miasma of the sea.

And there it was: a faint tendril of a person carried on the wind. Sniff. Sniff. Her nose twitched and she caught a bigger whiff. It was familiar. Shockingly familiar. One of those ingrained smells that she inhaled daily at The Music Box, as recognizable as a face. Bitter sweat, floral shampoo, and sweet lip gloss. It wasn't coming from the direction of the sea but from behind her.

Spinning around, she saw her. It was Katie.

Amy hadn't ever expected to ever meet her friend again.

She beamed a wide smile at Amy.

Without ever making a decision about it, Amy forgot about staying put and ran toward her, a weight lifting from her heart.

***

R.J. boarded the Manana with a sinking sense of defeat. Maxwell waited for him patiently, his gun held loosely against his thigh. Everything they had gone through only to get caught now. R.J.'s one hope was that Amy might still be able to run. If he could keep Maxwell busy, she might just have a chance to get away.

"Oh God." The words slipped from his mouth like a moan along with the taste of bitter bile. Bill was sprawled out on the deck, ragged, bloody holes tearing up his chest. "You killed him. You bastard. He didn't do anything."

"Take it easy. I didn't do that. Not that it matters. His death warrant was signed the moment you involved him."

"So it's my fault." R.J. didn't like the screechy quality his voice had. He'd hoped to come across forceful and indigent, not hysterical. But all he saw was his own body lying next to poor Bill.

"It's not about that. Jesus, Blass, you have no idea how deep you're in this—completely over your head. There's a big chess game playing out and you're moving around the board with a little tin top hat. This man is dead because he was a loose end. If you knew how this game worked, you would have killed him yourself when you reached your destination. There was no other end for him."

"I would never do that."

"And that's why you would have gotten caught no matter which way this played out. Now, I want you to signal Amy and get her to come over here."

"Never." The word was only a whisper. Any louder and Maxwell might have heard the tremor building in his chest.

"You don't understand. She's not safe out there."

"And she's safe with you."

"She has a chance with me. Out there she's as good as dead." As he said this his eyes moved across the area behind R.J., looking for something—someone.

Maxwell hadn't come here alone. It was this other person who was the bigger threat, the one who would kill Amy without hesitation. But just because Maxwell might hesitate was that enough to trust him? The indecision slowed time around R.J. as a stalled whir of thoughts spun in his brain. Call her here and betray her. Or keep silent and let her die. Or was it a bluff?

He only had one real option. He was about to open his mouth to speak but another voice filled the air.

"Maxwell C. Wylie. Put that gun away. You're not hurting anyone else."

Somehow Emily was on the dock, with a pistol of her own aimed up at Maxwell. R.J. blinked. His mind must have broken. What he was seeing couldn't be real.

Nikki was standing behind her.

***

The look of shock on their faces was almost funny. Reality twisted into a game of gotcha and Emily forgot that she was in a situation that might end with shooting Max or with her getting shot. But in less time than it took her heart to beat, the focus shifted back and everything became painfully clear again.

When R.J. had punched in his planned destination in the GPS, Emily raced to the location. She pushed the car faster than she knew it could go. It was only a miracle she hadn't been pulled over by a state trooper. She was rather proud of her plan, even though it was ripped-off from the Big Bad Wolf.

Nikki and Emily beat them there and hid out on a pontoon party boat. They crouched quietly and witnessed Maxwell and that tramp, Katie, arrive. Nikki had almost screamed when the bitch killed the boat captain. Emily had to wrestler her down and clamp a hand over her mouth to silence her. They waited another twenty agonizing minutes for R.J. to show up, with Nikki clutching herself and stared off at the ocean in a sullen state of panic.   When Emily made her move she hadn't expected her to follow. She didn't actually care either way.

"Em', what the hell are you doing here?" Max's gun twitched, but he left it at his side, although he didn't raise the barrel.

"Stopping you."

"Nikki?" R.J. muttered, and she was over the bow racing to him. R.J. and Nikki embraced and split off creating a private world of two. Emily had the feeling she was watching a science show with a close-up view of microbes in a petri dish acting through the influence of the basic forces of life.

"You have no idea what kind of danger you put yourself in coming here," Max said. "The danger you put Aaron in?"

Emily moved to get on deck, with very slow and precise steps. If she slipped or lost her balance, it was all over. Maxwell would be on her before she could recover, she had no doubt of that.

"Drop the gun Maxwell. I really don't want to have to shoot you. You know I'll kill you if I have to."

"Yes, I've seen how capable you are in that area."

The words snapped out coldly and Emily winced. They were calculated to hurt her—to remind her of what he had done for her. But he tucked the pistol back into the holster under his jacket. Not slowly like he was afraid a sudden movement might give the wrong impression, but with expediency of a person who'd decided he was done with it, for now.

"Listen, Em'. I'm not alone. Your life really is in danger."

"You mean that bitch, Katie. Yes, I saw. I saw how close the two of you have become."

"It's not—"

"I really don't give a shit what you do anymore, Max." And then to R.J., she said, "Where's Amy? Please, tell me she's safe."

R.J. broke from the tight little nucleolus he had formed with Nikki and raised his hand, slowly, as though in a dream, pointing toward the parking lot.

A shot rang out from the direction his fingertip aimed, as though it had somehow triggered it by magic.

Emily knew she shouldn't put her back to Maxwell but she had to see. The docked boats blocked a large swath of the shore and Amy was nowhere in sight.   Emily didn't spend more than a second or two looking for the girl, when something else captured her full attention. Two predatory, black helicopters were swooping in from the southeast.

***

Author's Note: So we've entered the big action sequence of the book. It will be a lot of short scenes like this. And then I have a special surprise for Chapter 9, I hope you'll like, before, we start wrapping things up on Book 2. Love to hear what you're thinking