Nausea threatened Cate again. “Can Henry save him, Julie?” she whispered, knowing it was an impossible question to answer.
The nurse blanched. “I don’t know. His condition sounded critical, but who knows what was actually going on with him.”
“Why on earth wouldn’t they take him to a hospital?” asked Tessa. “Why risk a kidnapping instead?”
“Because they were more worried about how the man got the injury,” Cate said slowly, her mind trying to find logic in the situation. “Gunshot injuries have to be reported, and . . .”
What did I read the other day?
“Hang on,” she muttered as she started to do a search on her phone.
Gunshot.
Cate touched a link on the screen, held her breath, and read. A piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “Armed bank robbery,” she said. “Two days ago. Three robbers. Authorities believe that one of them had been injured by gunshot.” She paused. “They killed two employees during the robbery.” Her stomach turned over; Henry was with very dangerous people.
“Where?” asked Tessa.
“Seattle. My former stomping grounds. The story had caught my eye because if I had still worked for the FBI, the case could have ended up on my desk.”
“That could be them,” said Tessa. “But why the fuck are they on Widow’s Island? Does the FBI know who did it?”
“Not according to the media,” said Cate after checking a few more articles. “Julie, replay them coming in the front door again, and freeze it on a good view of both men.”
The nurse promptly did, and Cate took a photo of the men with her phone. “They’re in masks, but I suspect the FBI has similar footage if these are the men that robbed the bank. Look at the eyebrows on that one guy. They’re hard to miss. I’ll send it to my old boss.” She texted the photo to Phillip with a brief explanation.
The three of them went silent, staring at the phone in Cate’s hand.
No reply.
“It’s late,” said Cate. “Or maybe he’s out.”
“We’ll keep pressing on,” said Tessa. “Julie, start fast-forwarding through today’s videos, and see if any of the men that come in feel familiar. Watch how they stand and move. And look for those eyebrows.”
Julie nodded, already focused on the computer screen.
“They have to get to a marina first,” said Cate. “That indicates a vehicle close by.”
“If you wanted to sneak a doctor off the island, would you use a marina where they might have cameras?” asked Tessa. “We need to talk to anyone with a dock.”
“The whole town shuts down at nine,” said Cate. “It might be tough to get cooperation.”
“Do you think I care?” asked Tessa. “Henry is my priority. Not someone’s sleep.”
Tears pricked in the back of Cate’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Tessa touched her arm. “We’ll find him.” Sincerity and confidence filled her tone.
I hope so.
3
“Slow the fuck down!”
“You want to drive?” yelled Scott.
“You’re going to kill us going that fast. I can’t see that far ahead, and it’s not going to be my fault if we hit a fucking log,” grumbled the other kidnapper.
Henry felt the boat slow. The two kidnappers had been arguing most of the trip. He had mentally labeled the man with the gravelly voice not-Scott since he knew the other was named Scott. They had tied a rope gag over the makeshift hood covering his head after they’d left the office, warning him that if he made any noise, he’d be shot.
If he hadn’t been gagged, Henry would have pointed out how illogical it would be to fire a gun because he’d made some sort of noise. Logic didn’t seem to be a strong point with these two.
The men had given Henry one minute to gather supplies. Scott had pointed a gun at his head as Henry had thrown a trauma kit and two suture kits in his bag. Then he’d shoved in as many bags of fluids as he could, along with an IV kit and some broad-spectrum antibiotics, both injectable and IV. He’d told the men there were no narcotics in the clinic, but he had parenteral opioids for an IV. He’d used them daily in the Los Angeles ER but had never had the need on Widow’s Island. He’d grabbed those too.
After leaving the clinic, they’d walked for a long time, Henry constantly tripping and worried he’d fall on his face and break something, unable to protect himself since his hands were taped behind his back. They’d walked on asphalt and packed dirt and even through tall grass, making Henry lose track of their location with the numerous turns they’d taken. Several times they’d pulled him down into a crouch, and he’d heard a vehicle go by. Finally they’d led him down a wooden walkway, and Henry had heard gentle splashing sounds.
A dock.
The men had mentioned a boat, so Henry hadn’t been surprised to hear water, but he couldn’t place the dock’s location. There was one public dock at a park not too far from the clinic, which Henry thought they would have reached much quicker. He suspected it had been a private dock. Several of the homes on the island had them.
It had been awkward getting into the boat without his hands. One of the men had practically pushed him, and the other had caught him. Both were strong. Henry had sat on the deck of the boat and wondered if anyone had noticed the suspicious loading.
Cate will come looking for me. It won’t take her long to realize I’m missing.
The refrain had repeated in his head the entire walk to the boat.
But what if she goes to bed, assuming I’m working late?
Doubt haunted him.
No. She’ll wonder why I didn’t let her know. And Bruce will wonder the same about Julie. One of them will go to the clinic.
He hoped Julie would tell whomever that the men had mentioned a boat.
Henry shuddered, remembering Julie’s eyes when not-Scott had suggested taking her instead of him. She was tough and quite fearless, but at that moment he’d seen terror flash in her eyes. There was no way he’d have let them leave with her.
Not-Scott yelled to slow the boat again, and Scott snapped something back.
They bicker like brothers.
Henry suddenly understood. The men’s similar builds, their similar stances. They had to be brothers.
There was definitely a hierarchy. Scott was the leader, and not-Scott reluctantly deferred. A division that Henry had made a note of, possibly a weakness he could exploit later.
“Arummmph,” Henry said, not even trying to create words. He wanted their attention. “Arrugh.” He banged his feet on the boat deck.
“Shut up,” said not-Scott.
Henry repeated the noises.
“No one is going to hear him where we’re going,” said Scott. “Take off his gag.”
Something tugged at the back of his head, and the rope’s tension vanished. Henry spit the gown’s fabric out of his mouth. Now he had a large wet spot against his lips and nose.
Can I get them to remove the gown from my head?
“Thanks,” he said. “Not being able to see is making me queasy. Can you take off the hood?”
“No.”
Was worth a try.
“Can you tell me more about the injury?” Henry asked. He wanted the two men to talk for several reasons. He wanted to find something else that he could use to further divide them, or maybe they’d give something away about their identities or a hint to where they were taking him. The only weapon currently available to Henry was his brain.