“I don’t have a phone number for Mr. Kinkaid. I only have his mailing address. That’s all.”
“You are lying.” The man yanked her by the throat and pulled her toward him. Her feet dangled under her, barely touching the ground. She felt the blood rush to her face.
“Please…I’ve told you all I know,” she cried.
Kate heard the children screaming behind her. When she looked over her shoulder to find them, the man tore the veil from her head and threw it to the ground. He stepped on it and ground it into the dirt with the heel of his boot. And with his hand, he yanked her head back. He gripped her hair until her scalp burned.
“You will do this thing. Now!” he yelled, and fixed his eyes on her. His spittle mixed with the raindrops that struck her face and she winced.
“I can’t. I’ve told you.” She had no idea how much he understood, and she tried to explain. “The charitable foundation he set up is private. As far as I know, they don’t advertise their good works. I only have his mailing address, I swear it.”
“He gave money to the school.” He glared at her. “And that party was in his honor. This I know from the news. And others here said he was at Dumont Hall and that you know him well.”
“He’s a contributor to the school, yes. And yes, I know him. But only as a patron to the academy.” Most of what she’d said was the truth and not what he wanted to hear.
He stared at her and tightened his grip as the rain got worse. The pain made her wince, and she held her breath. He looked as if he were making up his mind about what to do next. Given the anger seething in his eyes, she wouldn’t like the outcome.
“If you cannot reach him, then you are of no use to me…and neither are those children.” He pulled a machete from his belt and yelled an order for the young man with the video camera to follow him.
The man dragged her by the hair into the jungle. She tried to keep up, but he moved too fast. She fell in the slick mud, and he didn’t stop. Branches tore her tunic and exposed her legs to cuts. And she heard the roots of her hair pop as they were yanked from her head. He hauled her away from the others. And some of his men followed, cheering and hoisting weapons above their heads in victory.
And when they got to a small clearing, the man beat her with his fists. She crumpled to the muddy ground and curled into a ball, protecting herself from his kicks. It all happened too fast—the blur of images and her sudden rush of terror. She couldn’t breathe.
Grimacing in pain, she was hauled to her knees, yanked by her hair again. And the man with the video camera came forward and shoved through the bodies standing before her.
Her death would become a mockery recorded for the amusement of these cruel men. They knew nothing of her life, nor did they care. And all her sacrifices in service to God meant nothing.
Inside, she wanted to scream, until she heard the cries of the children in the distance. Their torment overshadowed any agony she felt for her own fate. In truth, she had let them down.
Now they’d have no one to look out for them.
CHAPTER 10
The sun glowed like a dying ember on the horizon, despite being smothered by a thick ceiling of clouds. And the rain had intensified. Although large drops pelted the trees, branches filtered the deluge and shielded them from the blowing downpour. The steamy heat had subsided, but the high winds and lightning posed a new threat. Alexa knew her team needed shelter to weather the worsening storm. And she’d seen a shallow stone overhang that might give them enough protection. They’d have to backtrack to make it.
Kinkaid wouldn’t be happy. The man had followed the tracks Manny found with a frightening obsession. To convince him to retrace his steps wouldn’t be easy, but she had to try.
“We can’t stay out here,” she cried, hoping Kinkaid heard her through the rain. But if he had, he ignored her. She yelled again, “We gotta find shelter.”
Kinkaid had pushed ahead looking for the footprints he’d recognized. Now she couldn’t stop him. It was getting darker, and the rain had obliterated the tracks. Any footprints had filled with rain and were submerged in puddles of mud. And their own tracks would trample what little remained. Kinkaid kept his head down and searched like a madman for signs that he was still on the right trail. And in weather like this, he could make a mistake and put them off the right path.
“We can make camp near here,” she argued. “We’ll pick it up in the morning, when we can see better.”
“But the rain…” he yelled over his shoulder. “It’s wiping out the tracks. If we wait until morning, the trail will be gone.”
“My team is good,” she countered. “We’ll track other signs, Jackson.”
He ignored her and staggered into the wind, holding up an arm to fend off the blowing branches. Alexa turned to see her men close behind. They were doing their best, but she knew what they were thinking. Kinkaid had lost his objectivity. She had to make the decision and do what was right for all of them, even if it turned him against her.
“You might be leading us the wrong way. And that could take us twice as much time to find their trail again.” She stopped fighting the wind and stood her ground. “I’m ordering you to stop.”
He shook his head. And when he stumbled and slowed down, she stepped into his path.
“Don’t make me the bad guy.” Alexa lowered her voice so only he would hear. She placed both hands on his chest, but that still didn’t stop him. When he pushed by her, she yelled, “You know I’m right. What are you doing?”
Although Kinkaid finally stopped fighting, he didn’t return her stare. He raised his face into the darkening skies and the punishing rain, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. His hair and clothes were drenched, like hers, except he looked exhausted and beaten.
Something was terribly wrong.
“Talk to me, Jackson,” she pleaded. “What’s going on?”
She wanted to ask him about Kate, but was afraid what his reaction might be. The man didn’t look stable. And when she finally got his marginal attention, he lowered his head and looked past her. He zoned out with a half- lidded gaze as if he’d forgotten where he was. His skin was pale, and he rocked on his heels, unsteady.
“Jackson?” She grimaced. “You’re scaring me. And that’s not easy to do.”
It was the last thing she said before his eyes rolled into his head. His body fell hard to the ground in a backwash of mud.
Jackson Kinkaid had passed out at her feet.
New York City
Sentinels Headquarters
“I haven’t been able to get through to Alexa.” In his office, Garrett paced the floor in front of his wall of monitors. Even with all the technology available to him, nothing worked. “The edge of the hurricane has made landfall. The storm’s interfering with communications.”
“That’s understandable. When did you last talk to her?” Tanya Spencer asked as she took a seat on the sofa.
“Two hours ago. I gave her an update on the storm and warned her to take shelter, but you know Alexa.” He tried to smile and couldn’t.
“What path are they projecting for the hurricane?” Tanya Spencer asked him. “Are Alexa and her team in its path?”
He stopped and shifted his gaze toward the weather channel. A swirling mass of radar projected hurricane Alex would hit Cuba. And even though there was irony in the fact that the storm had been named for a man—a name so similar to Alexa’s—Garrett had a sinking feeling that this storm had her name written all over it.
“Well, the southeast part of the island isn’t directly in the path, but it’ll be close enough not to matter.” He unbuttoned his shirt collar, yanked at his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. “The only saving grace is that she’ll avoid
