Emerald Fire. Monica McCabe

he was, head down and hands in pockets as he made his way across the street. She rushed forward again, dodging shoppers in her frantic dash along the sidewalk. She raced up behind him and grabbed his arm just before he stepped into a street-side cafe.

      Her uncle whipped around, prepared to fend off an attacker, but his expression morphed to stunned amazement when recognition dawned. He whooped in delight and immediately squeezed her into a bear hug.

      Finn caught up with them seconds later, armed with their duffle bags and a scowl dark enough to block the Caribbean sun. She didn’t care. Her uncle was alive! And in Boca Chica!

      Wait a minute.

      “What are you doing here and not in St. Lucia?” she asked him.

      “I can ask you the same thing,” he replied with a grin.

      “I flew down as soon as I heard the Fire was missing.”

      Her uncle’s smile disappeared, and he glanced at the stormy visage of her new partner.

      “Uncle Jon, meet Finnegan Kane.”

      Finn stuck his hand out to her uncle. “Boston Marine Insurance, sir.”

      “I don’t recognize you from Sam Brady’s office,” her uncle replied as he shook Finn’s hand.

      “It’s a long story.” Finn gestured toward the café. “How about we have lunch and talk about it?”

      As the two men sized each other up, Chloe looped her arm through her uncle’s, and with a giant smile of relief, she steered him through the café entrance. They were quickly seated outside on the patio under the shade of a coconut tree, and after placing their order, Chloe could wait no longer. “What happened, Uncle Jon? Why haven’t you contacted anyone?”

      Her uncle shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t. Until last night I’ve been hiding on board the Fire.”

      “Where are Mike and Brett?” she asked.

      He shook his head, his shoulders dropping as he leaned back in his chair. “Dead. Shot and dumped overboard.”

      Pain ripped through Chloe. She’d known both crewmen for years. Brett was the Fire’s first mate. He’d befriended her immediately after signing onboard eleven years ago. He’d taught her sailor knots and answered endless childish questions. Mike served as cook and purser, a gentle man with an easy laugh and fabulous stories. She’d loved spending time in the galley with him, learning to cook gourmet meals and laughing over his tales of adventure. She never knew if he had lived all those stories or made them up as he went along, but their entertainment factor had kept her going back for more.

      That they were now gone choked off her breath, and a giant, gaping hole opened in her chest where her heart used to be.

      “The scumbags hit us deep in the night,” her uncle continued. “Before I even knew what happened, we were under sail. The movement of the ship woke me, and I started topside, but something, I don’t know what, instinct maybe, had me turning back to the master cabin and using the escape hatch instead. Outside I slid along the starboard lines, up and over the bridge until I could see the aft deck. There were three pirates, and they were asking Mike and Brett who else was on board. They claimed they were alone, to protect me I guess. The bastards used silencers to shoot them, then tossed them in the water.”

      Chloe squeezed her eyes shut against the horrific image.

      “I just lay there,” her uncle continued, “too stunned to move or speak. I struggled to process that I’d just witnessed the murder of two good friends.”

      Chloe couldn’t believe it either, and the vengeance she’d felt taking hold inside her earlier widened to an all-consuming need for retribution. Fury burned her nerve endings and sharpened her resolve to carry out tonight’s risky plan.

      “I don’t know how long I lay there,” Uncle Jon said, “but self-preservation finally got me moving. Daylight approached, and I had to hide because I damn sure wasn’t allowing those animals to steal my ship, murder my friends, and get away with it.”

      Lunch was delivered right then, and Chloe looked at her steaming bowl of gumbo and thick bread with reluctance. Her appetite had vanished.

      Their waiter drifted away, and Finn leaned forward on the table, ignoring his lunch as well. “How’d you end up in Boca Chica?”

      “They sailed us here, drinking my liquor and partying the whole way. Their base camp is a boat sales and repair shop that sits a pretty good distance out of town. I jumped ship when they berthed the Fire at their pier last night, then walked the six or seven miles into town.”

      Chloe reached over and laid her hand on her uncle’s, squeezing with support. She didn’t know what to say or how he had managed to stay hidden the two days it took to sail here, but she was beyond glad he did.

      “Can you get back to that camp?” Finn asked.

      “Absolutely,” Jonathan replied. He smiled at Chloe, but turned inquisitive eyes toward Finn. “Tell me, how did Boston Marine get involved so quickly?”

      “Your wife called in the policy,” Finn said in his usual blunt way. “Said you and the ship were missing, and she wanted to file a claim.”

      A flash of pain crossed her uncle’s features. It was quickly masked before he turned to Chloe, but she’d seen it. Honestly, Finn had to learn the art of softening a blow.

      “Did SafeSail call you?” her uncle asked.

      “At three a.m. no less,” she replied.

      “You went to Lisa?”

      “I did.” Chloe would rather avoid telling her uncle about his trophy wife’s spiteful response, but he deserved to know. Mike and Brett deserved justice for their sacrifice, yet she was reluctant to hurt her uncle beyond what he’d already endured.

      “The truth, Chloe.” Jonathan wiggled his fingers, palm up, encouraging her to talk. “This old man has done a lot of thinking the past two days, and it’s time for some hard facts.”

      She sighed in resignation and gave him what he asked for. “Lisa seemed less worried about her missing husband and more concerned about why I got the call and not her. She fired off a round of furious accusations at me, claiming I had you change the notify information.” She stopped there, not wanting to go any deeper into her suspicions of Lisa’s treachery. Or Owen’s possible involvement.

      “There’s more,” her uncle said with a knowing look.

      She grimaced, but kept going. “Lisa claimed that I was working on your beneficiary list next, and I could forget about ever seeing a dime.” Chloe looked away from the hurt in his face, staring at the uneaten food on her plate. “I left without telling her I was flying down.”

      It grew quiet at the table, and she glanced up to spy a hard expression in her uncle’s eyes. “You know, friends have been warning me about her for some time, especially Sam Brady.” He glanced over at Finn. “What has Sam said to you?”

      “Just that you were his friend.”

      The hint of compassion in Finn’s tone took Chloe by surprise. She’d had to beg, barter, and threaten to get his cooperation. He’d been nothing but gruff since day one, which was actually just yesterday, come to think of it, but still.

      “Sam also told me not to come back until I find the Emerald Fire and solve the case,” Finn added with a half-laugh. “He doesn’t take failure very well.”

      “That’s why I pay his exorbitant insurance rates. SafeSail, too.” Her uncle finally started eating his lunch, but kept up a string of questions. “Did you have any trouble getting the GPS coordinates, Chloe?”

      She shook her head and followed her uncle’s lead by picking up her spoon and stirring the gumbo. “Once I provided the password, we had the location in a matter of minutes.”