Val leaned forward and met Margaret’s cold lips for a brief kiss. “You should stay here.”
Her eyes grew wide. “No. I can’t.”
He understood the need to witness whatever was going to happen with his own eyes, but he didn’t want Margaret anywhere near Stephan. Then again, he didn’t want her roaming the wine vault still filled with illegal drugs either. If someone who had helped them pack up the wine in record time was in with Alonzo, they’d be called out before Stephan left the dock.
Sandwiched between Rick and Val, Margaret walked with them to the charter. The heat outside was close to ninety, but Margaret still shivered. When Val moved away from the two of them to talk to Stephan, Margaret stumbled and Rick caught her.
“I’m OK. Sorry.”
She looked positively sick and there was nothing Val could do about it.
Val halted the driver of the forklift before he placed the last pallet on the overloaded boat.
“C’mon, Masini . . . get it in there.” Stephan kept a hand in his pocket, the same one Val knew held a gun.
“Only when I know Gabi is safe.”
“You don’t hold any bargaining chips.”
“Pick up your phone and call your boss. Or you can leave with a partial shipment, and once Gabi is safe, you can have the rest.”
From the expression crossing Stephan’s face, he wasn’t prepared for conflict.
“For all I know Gabi is already gone.”
A phone started to ring.
Everyone turned and stared at Margaret. She answered . . . “Gabi?”
“Move the crates onto the ship, Masini,” Stephan yelled.
Val tried to hear Margaret’s conversation and looked at Rick for a hint of what he should do.
“Where are you?” Margaret yelled into the phone.
“Time is ticking . . .” Stephan said with a laugh.
“You see the island? Can you see people?” Margaret was turning away from Rick, looking out over the ocean.
Stephan moved from where he stood, kept his back to the ship, and removed the gun from his pocket. He waved it at the forklift driver. “Move!”
The men on the dock ducked away from the swinging barrel of the gun.
Margaret moved closer to the edge of the dock. “She says she’s on a small boat and can see lots of people on a beach,” she told them. “No! Don’t. We’ll find you. You can’t swim that far.”
Val’s heart sank. He’d save his sister only for her to jump into the water, high on God knew what, and drown.
The forklift started to move.
Val’s phone rang from his back pocket.
Rick was inching his way closer to Margaret, who didn’t seem to notice any of the unfolding drama on the dock.
“You might want to take that call, Masini,” Stephan suggested.
The last thing Val needed was an interruption.
Without taking his eyes off Stephan and the gun that was rotating between them, Val answered his phone without looking. “Yes?”
“Your hour was up ten minutes ago. I expected you to take my demand seriously.”
The man who he’d once let into his home, allowed the privilege of courting his sister, now sounded deadly.
“Where is Gabi?”
“Bobbing along. Close enough to see her blow up if you don’t move faster.”
The last pallet was loaded, the driver pulled the forklift away, and the men loading the wine ran.
“Meg?” Rick called her name.
Before Val could tell Alonzo the crates were loaded, Stephan lunged between Margaret and Rick.
Rick had his gun out and pointed at Stephan’s head. “Back off.”
Stephan shook his head, slow and easy. “Not part of the deal. She goes with me.”
All the blood in Val’s brain drained to his feet. “No!”
The phone in Margaret’s hand hung loose in her fingers. The breeze off the ocean whipped her short hair into her eyes, smoky amber eyes that expressed more than any words spoken.
“Drop the gun,” Rick ordered.
“Shoot me, and Gabi is dead.”
Val hadn’t realized that Alonzo was still yelling into the phone. He lifted it to his ear. “You’re wasting my time, Masini,” he said. “Pay close attention . . . the next one will blow in five minutes if my shipment hasn’t left . . . with your woman.”
“Andare all’inferno!”
“I’m going to hell anyway, Val.” The words left Alonzo’s lips when an explosion drew all their attention to the ocean.
“Gabi?” Margaret screamed into the phone. “Gabi?”
Rick cocked his gun, took a step closer.
Val was sick, felt his life slipping away.
Margaret gasped, her knees buckled. “No, baby . . . hold on. We’re coming.” There were tears in her eyes. Her lips trembled.
“Do you get my message, Val?” Alonzo asked.
“Four minutes, thirty seconds . . .” Stephan reminded him. “Let’s go, Blondie.” He nodded toward the boat.
“Christ.”
Margaret’s feet were in motion, only she was walking onto the boat, not away.
“Margaret, no!”
“He’s going to kill her if I don’t.” She glanced at Rick, briefly. “Ask Judy what sport I excelled in when we were in college.”
When her foot stepped up to the boat, Val knew he wouldn’t see her alive again. His sister . . . or the woman who had stolen his heart?
Rick uncocked his gun, lowered it.
“Anyone follows us,” Stephan said as he backed into the boat behind Margaret, “and this one’s dead.”