Johnnie couldn't imagine Ortega risking a drug deal this close to one of his private homes, but there was no way to know for sure.

Forcing himself to ignore the heat, Johnnie settled in to wait for the boat's return. When it didn't come back within the hour, he packed up his gear and headed for the car he had hidden down the road. A few minutes later, he was driving back to the motel, a little more eager to get there than he wanted to be.

When he got there, Amy wasn't in the room. Next to the note he had left for her that morning was a second piece of paper.

Gone to the village. Back before supper. Amy.

Son of a b.i.t.c.h. Maybe she had just gone to get something to eat. A sweet roll wasn't enough food for the day. If she had, she should have been back by now.

Johnnie crumpled the note in his fist. He had specifically told her to stay out of trouble. But Amy's middle name was Trouble. If she wasn't back in the next half hour, he was going after her.

Twenty minutes later, he was pacing the floor, contemplating the notion of paddling her sweet little a.s.s. A rush of relief hit him when he heard the key in the lock. The door swung open, and Amy walked in.

She slammed the door and ran toward him. "Johnnie! Oh, thank G.o.d you're here!"

"Yeah, well, you won't be glad when I get finished with you."

She just rolled her eyes.

"I told you to stay out of trouble. Where the h.e.l.l have you been?"

"I've been doing exactly what we came to do. I found out where they took Rachael."

"What?"

"That's right. Ortega owns an island somewhere along the coast. He's taken other women there and that's where he took Rachael."

"How the h.e.l.l did you find that out?"

"I went to the market this morning. Remember last night I was thinking that one of the servants in the house probably did the shopping in the village?"

He frowned. "So you went there and started asking questions."

"And I got lucky. I recognized the yellow car from last night, the one with the red fender. There were two women inside. One of them recognized Rachael's picture. She said Ortega took her to his island. The woman warned me that I should leave before something bad happens to me, too."

That was exactly why he hadn't wanted her involved in this. "Asking questions that might get you killed-that's your idea of staying out of trouble?"

"I'm here to find my sister, Johnnie. All we have to do is find the island Ortega owns."

"That's all, huh?" But her information could be right on the money, he had to admit. It fit with the boat full of supplies he'd seen leaving the dock. If Ortega owned an island, that's where the crates and boxes were likely headed. "What makes you think this woman was telling you the truth?"

"Because Ortega took her daughter there-Tayla, she said. Because Tayla never came back. She was terrified, Johnnie, but she didn't want to see the same thing happen to another girl."

Johnnie sank down on the bed, ran his hands through his hair. "Christ."

"We have to find that island."

"Then what?" he asked, glancing up. "If she's there, we need a way to get her off. We'd need men, equipment, weapons."

Amy's shoulders slumped. "We have to find a way," she said softly, desperately.

Johnnie's chest tightened. Then his sat phone started ringing, saving him from having to reply.

He dug it out of his pocket, pushed the b.u.t.ton and pressed the phone against his ear. "Riggs."

"Got some intel for you." Jake Cantrell's deep voice boomed over the line. Jake was a longtime friend, a former marine sniper and Force Recon, one tough son of a b.i.t.c.h. He'd been part of the job with Dev Raines down in Mexico. He was now back in Texas, working with Trace.

"Fire away," Johnnie said.

"Before he and Maggie left for Australia, Trace filled me in on your missing persons case. Sol flagged the tail numbers on Ortega's jet for any new flight plans his pilot might file. A few minutes ago, one popped up on the screen. Tomorrow morning, Ortega's on his way back to Belize."

Johnnie hissed a curse.

"You there now? Trace said you might be headed down there."

"I'm here. We're about twenty miles from Las Palmas-that's Ortega's villa."

"We?"

"Amy Brewer is with me. Rachael's sister."

"So I heard. Guess you finally got her in bed."

"f.u.c.k you, Cantrell." h.e.l.luva thing when his buddies knew more about his love life than he did.

Jake just laughed. "Come up with anything?"

"We got a lead on the girl," Johnnie said. "Amy was able to get close to one of Ortega's servants. Looks like he might have taken Rachael to an offsh.o.r.e island. I'm guessing he owns it. We need to find the location but even if we do, it's gonna take time to put a rescue operation together-a.s.suming the girl's still alive," he added quietly, for Amy's sake.

"Sol can find the location. I can help with the other. I'm only a two-hour flight away. I've got a friend, ex-SEAL. Could come in handy for the kind of operation you're facing."

"Might be a wild-goose chase. We're pretty sure he took her out there. We have no idea what's happened to her since."

"I'll get Sol on it and call you back."

"Thanks, Jake."

Johnnie paced the room for an hour while Amy busied herself reading. Johnnie stole a glance at where she stretched out on the bed with a pillow beneath her head and tried not to think of what had happened on the beach towel last night. If he did, he was in trouble.

He smiled. Both of them were in trouble.

He glanced at the clock. It could take hours to find the island. It hadn't shown up on any of the intel Johnnie had seen about Ortega, or been able to dig up on his computer. h.e.l.l, the ownership was probably so buried even the whiz kid couldn't find it. His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten anything but a sweet roll all day.

"You hungry?" he asked Amy.

She sat up, set the book on the nightstand. "Starving."

"Let's drive into town and get something to eat."

"Great."

But just as they headed for the door, the sat phone started to ring.

"We found it," Cantrell said into the phone. "Took a while, Ortega's good at hiding information, but Sol's even better at finding it. The island is owned by a company called Genesis, which is owned by a company called Encore. Encore's corporate officers include a guy named Raymond Dominguez. Dominguez is one of the men in Ortega's inner circle."

"Where's the location?"

"About twenty-three miles due east of Las Palmas. Satellite map shows heavy vegetation, some kind of structure near the center of the island."

"I'll check it out." He could find the preliminary info he needed on Google Earth. It was a different world these days.

"There's a flight out of here in the morning," Jake said. "We'll be on it. We'll figure things out when we get there."

"I'll have our contact waiting for you when you get here. Name's Nathan Dietz. He can get you down to Placencia. What about weapons?"

"You armed?"

"Yeah."

"I've got connections in the area. I'll take care of the rest of the weapons and ammo and whatever equipment we'll need." Mexico, Central and South America were Cantrell's specialty, though he'd also done some work for the Saudis over the years.

"All right then," Johnnie said, "looks like we're a go."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Tell your lady to keep the faith."

"She isn't my-ah, h.e.l.l, never mind."

Cantrell signed off and Johnnie hung up the phone.

Amy stared at him, unconsciously biting her lip. "Your friends are coming to help us?"

"Looks that way."

"I don't...don't have much money, but I'll find a way to pay them. I'll do whatever it takes."

Johnnie walked over, settled his hands on her shoulders. "Listen, baby, a lot of this is payback, some of it's quid pro quo. Some of it's just because we're friends. Don't worry about the money. None of us are hurting."

She looked up at him, big blue eyes sparkling with tears. "We're going to find her, I know we are."

"Maybe. Cantrell says to keep the faith."

She smiled but a tear rolled down her cheek. "I think I'm going to like him."

Johnnie hauled her into his arms and very thoroughly kissed her.

"Just don't like him too much," he said.

It was still early morning when Rick Vega turned down the long paved driveway off Highway 1 along the Malibu coastline into the entrance of the Moore Estate. Behind the main house, a single-story bungalow overlooked the sea. Rick drove farther up the lane, parked his unmarked brown Chevy in a guest parking spot and turned off the engine.

Following a gray stone walkway to the front door of the bungalow, he knocked and took a step back. A minute later, a man's deep voice came from the other side of the door.

"Who is it?"

"Police. Open up."

The dead bolt slid back and the door swung open. Manny Ortega stood across from him.

"Detective Vega, Mr. Ortega, LAPD. I've got a few questions I need to ask you."

Ortega looked over Rick's shoulder, searching for more police, but he was the only one there.

"How the h.e.l.l did you find me?" Manny was a good-looking twenty-five-year-old, tall with black hair and dark brown eyes. He was wearing a pair of baggy navy blue swim trunks and flip-flops, no shirt, and the kid was ripped.

"I called in a few favors, found out David Moore's son is a friend of yours. I put two and two together. I need to ask you a couple of questions about a woman named Rachael Brewer."

Unlike his dad, Manny wasn't good at hiding his emotions. Clearly he knew who Rachael was. "I talked to the cops about this already."

Interesting. No mention in any of the reports he'd seen. "Just a couple more questions. Mind if I come in?"

Manny stepped back letting Rick walk past him into the living room. The bungalow was small, just a living room, kitchen and bedroom, but the view was spectacular, with windows overlooking the cliffs onto the beach and an endless stretch of ocean.

The sight of a pet.i.te, black-haired Hispanic girl walking out of the bedroom in a bikini beneath a gauzy cover-up wasn't bad, either.

"This is my fiancee, Chrystal Sanchez. Hon, this is Detective Vega."

"Nice to meet you," Rick said.

"You, too," the girl said.

Rick thought of Rachael, a stripper from the Kitty Cat Club, and the relationship she might have had with Manny. "Is there someplace we can speak in private?" he asked.

"Like I said, Chrystal's my fiancee. I don't have anything to hide, you can ask your questions in front of her."

"All right. I came to find out if you had a relationship with Rachael Brewer."

"No, absolutely not."

"Rumor has it the two of you were seeing each other."

"Not true. I never took her out, never took her to bed. Nothing like that."

"But you knew her."

Manny glanced away. "I saw her a couple of times in the Vieux Carre."

"Who with?"

Manny licked his lips. Rick waited for the lie. The kid was a lousy liar.