Reckless Charity: A Charity Styles Novel (Caribbean Thriller Series Book 3) by Wayne Stinnett

Author:Wayne Stinnett [Stinnett, Wayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down Island Press, LLC
Published: 2017-03-28T04:00:00+00:00

After dinner, Charity and Victor watched the sun go down across the bay. The pool lights switched on automatically, a soft blue glow spreading across the deck in the gathering dusk.

“He actually hit on you?” Victor asked.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Charity replied, as they turned and walked back toward the house. “He just said his crew was gone, and offered to share his view and his wine on his gazillion dollar mega-yacht, which I told him was ugly.”

Entering the house, Victor laughed and switched off the pool lights. “Just like that? You called his boat ugly?”

“I told him that I thought his boat was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen on the water. I mean, come on, it’s all steel and glass.”

They went into his room, and once more climbed up to the rooftop. Earlier, they’d had to rebuild the blind, when a gust of wind had pulled one side loose. Victor had found a hammer and some nails and had secured two sides to the rails. They’d dragged another lounge chair over to hold the loose end up better, creating a sort of kid-style tent.

“Well, it is a butt-ugly boat,” Victor said, taking a seat. “So you’re going to return home?”

“I never said I was,” Charity replied. “I just don’t know. If you’re right, and it’s just a movement of people before the new administration takes office, wouldn’t he have said that?”

“I don’t know the guy. What’s he like?”

“Well, there is that,” Charity replied. “He’s a man of few words. And a former Army Colonel.”

Victor thought about it for a moment, stretching his tanned legs out on the lounge chair. “Do you trust him?”

It was Charity’s turn to think. “For the most part, yeah,” she finally replied. “But he’s lied about things in the past, and he’s good at it. So, no, I don’t trust him completely.”

“Anyone else in your old organization who you trust?”

“My boss, Deuce Livingston. And you know McDermitt. I trust both of them completely.”

“Any way you can contact one of them? See what’s going on?”

“No. Not any way that couldn’t be intercepted if someone was monitoring them.”

They watched the stars for a while and talked about ordinary subjects. Victor even made Charity laugh, something she hadn’t done a lot of in the last year and a half.

Charity’s laptop made a beeping sound. They’d brought it up to monitor the motion sensors on the hill above Magens Beach.

Quickly the two of them went to the nest and crawled beneath the tarp. Charity glanced at the computer screen. “It’s number four,” she said. “The one you put highest on the hillside.”

Victor already had the spotting scope up and was looking through it. Charity pulled the stock of her rifle in close to her shoulder, adjusting it against her cheek, as she too looked at the road through the gray-green night optics.

“Two cars parked just this side of the pass, facing away,” Victor said. “More than half a dozen men standing on the road, near where we put the sensors.

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