And here he was with a front-row seat to the madness and no way that he could think of to stop it.
“You meant to kill her,” he guessed again. “But you didn’t succeed, so you let her live until now.”
“I didn’t let her.” The man’s voice was bitter. “I lost her. I was so sure... I knew she’d never survive on that island. I knew I wasn’t linked to her in any way. I knew it was the best way to get rid of her.”
So that was why Elsie had gotten to live all those years.
“And then...” he prompted, not sure if the man would keep talking or explode.
“I saw an article in the newspaper. Some local fluff. My staff like to keep me informed, keep me in touch with my constituents.” Wyatt rolled his eyes and hoped the man didn’t notice in the growing daylight. “I knew it was her. I recognized her right away. She’s like a walking version of Tressa.”
Wyatt guessed Tressa must have been Elsie’s mother. Was that part of the reason the man was so determined to kill her? He couldn’t guess how much of the man’s motivation was related to a desire to keep his other crime—killing Elsie’s mother—under wraps and how much was him repeating that action. He’d been mad enough to kill the mother, whom he must have cared for on some level. Why not kill the child who he was convinced should never have lived?
“So you put a woman on that island hoping she’d be called in to find her?” That would explain Noelle Mason’s presence on the island.
“She worked at a shelter I’ve done some work with. Publicity stuff. She and I had gotten...involved and so she was a liability anyway.” He shrugged. “I knew Annie would come find her.”
“But you weren’t able to kill her. You killed her friend, though.”
“An unfortunate bit of collateral damage. Rebecca was never supposed to die, but when she got off the island after she and Noelle were separated, she started to get suspicious about the fact that I had suggested that island hike to Noelle. Apparently she knew about mine and Noelle’s relationship. I couldn’t afford for her to be pointing fingers at me. So I returned her to the island,” he said smoothly.
“You killed her,” Wyatt broke in.
Travis continued, unfazed. “And then Annie found Noelle so fast...hence the need for the plane crash so she’d think we were out of the picture. And you... Now I can finally get rid of her.”
“Leave her alone,” Wyatt tried again, not needing any more of the story. “Just let her go. She doesn’t care about you.”
Travis kicked and pain exploded in Wyatt’s shin.
“Do not tell me what to do. I have a plan. I am the one in control here, and I am calling the shots.” A slow, sick grin spread across his face as he slid a shiny handgun from a holster on his hip. “Literally.” He lifted the gun, aimed it at Wyatt. Waited.
Wyatt barely breathed. It took everything within him not to react. He knew that Willow would find him dead or alive. But it seemed this man and whoever was helping him earlier hesitated to kill him, not knowing if he would still be an effective bait. He had to use that.
“Losing patience and getting rid of your bait this fast?” He kept his voice even, the words the only provoking things. His tone was neutral.
The gun wavered. Travis spit out a curse and holstered the gun.
“When she gets here, she dies. You get to watch that. And then you’ll have stopped being of use to me.”
With one more kick at Wyatt’s shins, the man walked back behind him, out of Wyatt’s vision. He wasn’t tied to the tree, so he had a little range of motion and freedom to move, but he didn’t dare turn around, not now.
Right now, he would wait. He couldn’t help Elsie if he was dead.
God help us. He prayed and then he started to form a plan. As he prayed, he dropped his hands to his side, hitting the lump on the edge of his pocket. His knife. How had he forgotten it earlier? There was a knife in his pocket, sharp enough to cut this rope. If he was careful...if he did this just right...
I’m going to need Your help, God. I’m never going to pull this off without You. He reached into his pocket, worked the knife out and toward his hand.
After several minutes of struggle, adjusting his position, moving his hands carefully, the knife was open on the ground. He rubbed the rope against it.
And finally, finally, the rope started to cut.
SEVENTEEN
There they were. Up ahead, Elsie could see two men in the trees, moving around, talking to each other. She was too far away to hear them. Willow leaned forward as though to growl and Elsie called her off. Slipped her search vest off.
She could almost feel Willow’s frown. They’d gotten this close to her goal and Elsie was telling her to stop searching now?
“I’m sorry, girl. But you found him. You did well. He’s here somewhere.” She was sure of it. She trusted her dog, even when she couldn’t see. Even when Willow hadn’t given the final alert.
Was trusting God like that, too? Bigger than trusting a dog, but knowing that Someone had your back, even though you couldn’t see the logic behind it?
Maybe, Elsie decided as she crept closer. Picking her way through the spruce trees, wildflowers and brush, she kept advancing until she thought she’d be close enough to hear, then crouched low to the ground and gave Willow a hand signal to do the same. The dog obeyed.
“Back for more?” She heard Wyatt’s voice. The edges of it were sharp, like he was in pain or angry or both. Either would make sense. It took her a moment to get a visual of where he was, where the voice had come from. There, beside a spruce tree, in the forest ahead of her, adjacent to the clearing where the two men were. The ocean was beyond them, but this must be part of the landscape where it dropped off in a cliff. She didn’t see any kind of gradual slope to the beach, but she could hear the waves even from here. Crashing against the rocks, maybe. Her attention went back to Wyatt. Why was Wyatt just sitting there? Why wasn’t he moving?
“Shut up. Keep talking and I’ll shoot you now and hope that stupid dog is able to find you anyway.”
Elsie rubbed Willow’s ears. Stupid dog indeed. Who had tracked them across the island working from scent that had been miles away. “Good girl,” Elsie whispered.
“Why kill her mother in the first place?”
“My political star was rising,” the man said. Something about that voice... “If voters twenty-five years ago knew I’d had an illegitimate child, I’d never have made it out of city council, let alone to the Senate. Besides, it wasn’t just that. It was that her mother—” he bit the word out “—wouldn’t listen to me. If she’d done what I told her to... I assumed she had. I didn’t hear from her for years and then I saw her. And the kid.”
Elsie had to be the kid. Wait—this... Her heart seemed to catch in her throat. This angry man holding Wyatt hostage was her father?
Being kicked, punched, anything would have hurt less than this. She’d thought her whole life until the terror of this week that she wanted to know her past, to know her history, but to be related to a murderer... The rest of what both men had said fully registered in her mind now.
A murderer who had killed her mother.
