Page 83 of Bishop's Flight
“Oh yah, for sure, during the day we do.” Jan nodded. “But we like to tie up at night. Visit the store in the morning for coffee. All that.” He waved in the direction of the harbor convenience store. “The old man there, he tells me the good fishing spots.”
“I see.” Bernard stepped forward and reached out a hand. “I’m going to give you my card. If you see anything out of the ordinary, please give me a call.”
“We for sure will,” Mina said. “His poor family.” She looked at Jan. “All our kids are grown now, but I’m sure his parents must be worried.”
“Thank you,” Bernard said. “If you think of anything or see anything, please do call.”
They turned and walked back to the shore. In his gut, Carwyn knew that Brigid wasn’t in any of these boats. “So with a houseboat, you can stay out on the lake for how long?”
“If you prepare correctly, you can stay out for a week or more. People moor the boats to the beaches out on the lake. They don’t need deep water because they’re flat and long. But we know whoever is keeping Lucas is out getting newspapers every morning.”
“Yes.” Carwyn looked over and pointed to the small powerboat attached to the back of a houseboat nearby. “But what if they have one of those?”
Bernard turned to Carwyn and his eyes went wide.
“They could be moored anywhere,” Carwyn said. “If they have a boat, they could access the store, buy the newspapers and whatever supplies they need, then zip back out to the houseboat.” Carwyn looked into the darkness and the black depths that stretched into the distance. “How many miles of shoreline on Lake Mead?”
“Over five hundred.” Bernard came to stand beside him. “I’ll tell the wind vampires to hurry up.”
“Tell them to get a move on,” Carwyn said. “And get us a boat.”
Zasha was sittingon a folding chair, their legs crossed and one foot swaying back and forth in an idle motion. Behind them, a thin vampire with a milky-white face, slightly red cheeks that indicated he’d fed recently, and sandy-brown hair and a goatee leaned against a wall. He was wearing a nondescript cream button-down shirt and linen pants, and he stared at Brigid with piercing blue eyes.
“It’s good to see you,” Zasha said. “I feel as if we’ve been able to spend more time together in these last few days.”
You absolute raving monster.
Brigid glanced at Button-Down Man, but Zasha made no move to introduce him.
“You know, Zasha, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do was call.” Brigid squared her shoulders to the door, never turning her back on the frightfully elegant creature in front of her or their silent companion. There was something magnetic about Zasha and there always had been. They were attractive in the same way a deadly flower or poisonous plant was beautiful. You knew it could harm you, but leaning closer was irresistible.
Zasha plucked at their pant leg. “I don’t know, Brigid. I feel like you would have ignored me if I asked you for a visit.” They glanced over their shoulder. “What do you think, Henrik?”
Henrik didn’t move or look away from Brigid.
Zasha turned back to her. “Henrik is Dutch and he’s very business-minded. Veryfocused. I admire that.”
“Opposites attract?”
Zasha perked up. “See? We do know each other. Henrik would like to maim Lucas to get our point across to his mothers that this is a serious proposition, but you’ll be happy to know that I have convinced him to keep the boy intact—”
“How generous of you.”
“—until the official timeline lapses.” Zasha glanced at the wall. “Which will be in five hours.”
Brigid’s mind raced with options to get Lucas off the boat. The boy was in the bathroom and the door was thin, but the shower door behind it where Lucas had the water running was made of tempered glass.
Henrik hadn’t moved or looked away from Brigid, so she decided to act as if the man—likely one of the Anker clan—did not exist.
“I’d apologize for not spending more time with you, Zasha, but I don’t usually befriend sociopaths.”
Tempered glass would crackle on impact, not shatter, right? Lucas might get cut, but he wouldn’t die. The shower turned off, and there was silence beyond the door.
“But you’re friends with Tenzin.” Zasha’s mouth pursed into a bow. “And Tenzin is most definitely a sociopath.”
Henrik smirked. Brigid narrowed her eyes. There was something else there. Henrik seemed to be in on a joke Brigid didn’t know.
She turned her attention back to Zasha. “Tenzin is not a sociopath. I admit my husband was surprised. But she took a test online, and she’s missin’ a fair few of the markers.”
