“Thank you, Chief.”
“Good luck, you two. Bring Finn home. And yourselves as well.”
“We will,” I said.
Fletcher and I went out to gather our team. Constable Tim Barnes was an avid boater on the weekends. Inspectors Rosa Reid and Samuel Elker were both great shots. Sergeant James Falkner was good in a fight. Sergeant Ella Holmes knew how to keep calm under pressure. The seven of us gathered by my desk, so I could run them through the plan and everything we knew about the case.
I reiterated what Dunnel said to Fletcher and me in his office. “We get Finn out first, then we worry about everyone else. He’s been gone for almost a week. We don’t know what kind of shape he’s in. If we can get him out without traumatizing him any further, that would be ideal. Fletcher and I will look for him while you five try to draw attention away from us. If you hear things going tits-up inside, you come running and go for Finn, not us, got it?”
The five officers nodded their assent. Their faces were grim and ready for action, and I was satisfied that they understood the gravity of the situation. “Good. Gather what you need and meet us at Sunset Charter at twenty-one hundred hours.”
Our team saluted and dispersed, leaving Fletcher and me alone. Fletcher figured it would take us around four hours to motor up to the island, and I hoped that we would arrive while the place was sleepy and under guarded.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “There’s one more thing I have to do.”
Fletcher nodded. She’d found a sea chart somewhere and was busy studying it.
I made my way back to MacGowan’s cell. He was being transferred tomorrow to await trial, and he looked like a man who could see the bars of his life closing in around him.
“MacGowan,” I said, and he turned his head to look at me without sitting up. “We know where your son is. We’re heading out to rescue him soon. I just… thought you should know.”
MacGowan smiled faintly. “Thank you, MacBain. Would you tell him that I’m sorry and I never meant for any of this to happen?”
“You know I think you should tell him yourself, but sure,” I promised. “Apparently, a man named Thomas Holden is responsible, if you’re curious.”
“The art collector?” MacGowan asked.
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“I think I stole from his collection once. Allegedly, of course.” MacGowan’s face furrowed as his guilt bore down on him like an avalanche. “Maybe that’s why he’s doing this.”
“We’ll do our best to be sure he pays,” I said. “I’ll make sure you know how it goes.”
MacGowan nodded his thanks and closed his eyes, rolling over, so his back was to me. I saw his shoulders begin to shake slightly.
I left the man to his private grief. The weight of what was to come was heavy on my shoulders as I crossed the station floor to rejoin Fletcher. We had to succeed tonight. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if we didn’t.
“Ready to do this?” I asked.
“I am.” Fletcher rolled up the sea chart and tucked it into a black backpack. The hard look in her eyes flickered for a second. “Can I ask you a question? Are you… utterly terrified?”
“Yes,” I admitted. My stomach had been churning ever since we crafted this plan. “You’ll feel that right up until you step off the boat, then you’ll have too much else on your mind to be scared.”
“What do you do until then?”
“You try not to vomit,” I said in a bad approximation of a joke, but Fletcher still cracked half of a smile.
We separated to get changed for the mission. I pulled on a dark, cable-knit sweater and swapped my blue jeans for black trousers with many pockets. The duster went on over the top, and I tucked a wool hat and gloves into its pocket for later. I took my time lacing up my boots as my fingers were trembling slightly, and then I took several deep breaths as I looked at myself in the mirror. I fit my features into a mask of confidence and calm competence, hoping that if I looked that way on the outside, it would spread through my insides as well.
Fletcher and I had agreed to meet at her car, so I saw myself out of the station. Several people wished me well as I passed, and I thanked them with a raised hand. The air was brisk when I stepped outside, and it smelled like rain, the clouds overhead thick and dark with anticipation.
A hand grabbed mine just as I went to step off the pavement, and I looked round to see Lena standing there, looking up at me with wide, anxious eyes. She’d bound her hair up in a bun to fight against the wind, and she wore a dark blue coat buttoned all the way up to her chin.
“Lena, hi,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time.”
“I know, I know.” She licked her lips. Jittery energy rolled off her in waves, and she looked about ready to take off running any second. “Listen, there’s something I’ve meant to tell you.”
“What?” I asked, staring intently down into her face.
Fletcher chose that moment to walk out the door. She clapped a hand on my shoulder as she passed by, headed for her car. “MacBain, let’s go. Time’s a-wasting.”
Lena hesitated and dug something from her pocket. “There’s so much I want to say, but you have to go. I hope this explains it all.” She placed a white envelope in my hand and then hopped up on her tiptoes and kissed me. My brain short-circuited for a second before I remembered to return the kiss, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. Her fingers hooked on the pocket of my duster, and then she was gone, coat swirling as she spun and hurried away,
