Envy the Night

mind was at turns back on that island, and the house of his boyhood, and in a Florida prison he’d never seen.

Everything he’d hoped for last night when he’d stood on the dark beach with Ezra was gone, obliterated. The situation wasn’t what he’d desired, and it appeared a good deal worse. It was also, he knew, his fault. That any of them were involved in this now was his fault. He’d come up here after Devin, come up with blood in his eyes, eager for a confrontation, and because of that he’d caused the accident with Vaughn and set all of this in motion. You couldn’t run from this, the legacy of bullets and bodies. Seven years he’d dodged it, bouncing around the country and avoiding anything to do with his father. Then one phone call from Ezra had pulled him north, and the result was this: They were right in the crosshairs of a bloody feud that should never have involved any of them. Particularly Nora.

It was time to get out. Time to hand the whole mess over to the people who should have had it from the beginning, to let Atkins and the FBI take it and hope he and Nora and Ezra could get the hell away from here before the fallout.

The good thing about running Ezra’s boat almost wide open was that it gave him a moment of peace; the bad thing was that he made the trip in too short a time. They were back at the cabin with the motor cut and the boat’s hull nestling into the shallows before he’d worked anything out. Not that extra time would have helped, though. He already knew what he had to do, which was get out of here, and stay gone.

He wanted to drive, but it was Nora’s truck and she had the keys. She got in the driver’s seat, and he opened the passenger door and sat down. The motor was started but she hadn’t put the truck in gear before she spoke.

“Do you think we can help them?”

This was the reason he’d run the boat at full throttle, the exact question he’d wanted to drown under the whine of the wind. He’d hoped Nora would not want to help them. Trying to help Vaughn and Renee would be nothing but an exercise in futility. Either DeCaster would get them or the police would. The fact that Devin was alive and missing was only an added problem, one that would make pursuit of Renee all the more imperative. If they had Renee, they could force Devin back to the surface. Maybe. Knowing what Frank knew about Devin, it seemed just as likely he’d leave his own wife to pay the price for his greed.

“Well?” Nora said when he didn’t answer. Her face was beautiful in the half-light of the shade in which she’d parked, those earnest eyes speckled by shifting shadows.

“Her husband isn’t dead,” Frank said.

“What?”

“He’s alive. Somebody shot him, that was true, but he didn’t die. He was in the hospital until yesterday, and then he took off.”

She turned and stared out of the windshield, then back at him. “What are you talking about? How do you know this?”

He inhaled, looked away. “I talked to a guy last night.”

“Last night?”

“Around two in the morning. You were asleep. He’s with the FBI, was part of the group that investigated my dad. He told me that Devin had been shot, told me that he’d left the hospital and no one knew where he was.”

Her face was incredulous at first, uncomprehending, and then the anger began to show as she reviewed the timeline.

“You knew this last night, and didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to see what the situation was first. The way it was told to me, Renee and Vaughn were responsible for shooting Devin. Tried to kill him and run off together, or something.”

She frowned. “How do you know that’s not true?”

“The way she slapped me. That was sincere. She wouldn’t have had that sort of reaction if she wanted her husband dead.”

Nora started to nod, then stopped. “Wait a second. You knew that her husband is still alive, and you didn’t tell her? She thinks he’s dead! Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Let the FBI tell her,” he said. Then, after a pause, “You know, it was a damn nice opportunity. I got to keep him from existing for a little while. Next best thing to actually killing him.”

“What?”

“I told you what happened to my father,” he said. “Devin’s the piece of shit who turned him in to the police. Devin, the same guy who recruited him and then made sure he stayed on board, he turned him in.”

When she didn’t respond, he plunged forward. “Listen, don’t think for a moment I’m defending what my dad did. I’m not. He earned his fate, Nora, and I understand that better than anyone. But Devin? Devin earned his, too, and he walked away from it. Still is, somehow. Three bullets in the back and he’s still walking away.”

She was shaking her head now, not wanting to hear any more.

“What are you really doing here?” she said. “Why did you come here? It’s not an accident. None of this could possibly be an accident.”

His fingers had curled into his palms, and now he flattened them on the seat, breathed, looked at her.

“I came here to kill Devin.”

“Devin? He’s not even here.”

“I thought he would be. Ezra thought he would be. Ezra called, told me Devin was coming back . . .”

“And you came to kill him,” she finished.

“I’d like to pretend that’s not the truth,” he said. “I’d like to think, to hope, that if it had happened as I’d expected and he’d been out on that island, I would have been able to stop myself. To walk right to the brink and then turn around and leave. But I doubt I could have.”

It was quiet. The windows in the truck were up and the air-conditioning was off, making the inside of the cab muggy. Sweat was starting to run down his spine. He was having trouble looking at her now.

“Think what you want of me,” he said, “but I’ve told you the truth. And I’m sorry you’re involved. You have no idea how sorry I am about that.”

The silence went on for a while, but then something changed in the engine noise, an increase in pitch as it acclimated to the long idle without ever being put into gear, and the sound seemed to jar something loose in Nora.

“What do we do?” she said, voice soft.

“I think you ought to call your FBI guy, Atkins. Tell him where they can be found. It won’t cause Ezra any trouble. It’s got nothing to do with him.”

He felt guilty about that, leaving Ezra on the island with no warning that they were turning the whole mess over to the police, but ultimately it was the thing to do.

Nora’s eyes narrowed, lines showing on her forehead. “What? Now you do want me to talk to the police?”

“I think you should.”

“You want to go to the police?” She repeated it again, as if it were incomprehensible.

“No, I want you to. I’d actually love it if you could drop me off someplace where I could rent a car. That would be a big favor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need a car, Nora. I’ve got nothing to drive.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll work that out. If the cops, or anybody else, want to find me, they can track me down. I’ve committed no crimes, and there’s no reason I have to stay here.”

“You’re leaving? You’re leaving?” She leaned toward him, spat the repeated the question in his face, eyes aflame.

“I’m not going to die for Devin’s wife, Nora. I’m not going to kill for her, either. I stay and try to help, it’s going down one way or the other. Grady, the FBI agent I talked to, this was his advice, to just get in a car and get the hell away from here and keep on going. He was right, too. I just should have listened to it earlier.”

“You’re going to leave the rest of us behind?” She looked at Frank as if she’d lost all hope of communicating and shook her head. “And I’m supposed to go the police alone?”

Before he could respond she lifted her hand. “You know what, I can’t think about this right now. Before I deal with any of this, I’ve got to go see my dad, show him that I’m not dead, and then I can