Chapter 4 - The Tides of Blackwater
By 3:00 a.m., the rain had softened into a thick, suffocating fog that rolled off Blackwater Bay, wrapping the Marlowe estate in a silver blanket.
In the private medical clinic built into the basement of the east wing, Savannah finished stitching the deep laceration on Evan's left arm. She worked quickly, her hands nimble and sure, using skills she had learned while helping nurse her sick mother through years of home care.
Vincent stood by the reinforced glass window, watching the harbor through a pair of night-vision binoculars.
"You're good at that," Evan observed quietly, watching Savannah knot the surgical thread.
"My mother has been sick for six years," Savannah replied without looking up. "You learn how to close a wound when you can't afford an emergency room visit."
"Vincent tells me you've been working here seven weeks," Evan said.
"Seven weeks," Savannah agreed. "It was supposed to be a simple job. Clean the house, earn enough money to pay for dialysis, keep my daughter fed."
"And now you're stuck in the middle of a war between two brothers and a mafia syndicate," Evan said grimly.
"I'm not stuck," Savannah said, cutting the thread with surgical scissors and applying a clean gauze pad over his arm. "I'm protecting my family. Just like you thought you were doing."
Evan looked at her, respect shining in his dark eyes. "You're tougher than you look, Savannah Reed."
"I have to be," she said simply.
The steel door opened, and Vincent walked back into the clinic room. He had washed his face and changed into a fresh black shirt, though his jaw remained locked in a tight, unyielding line.
"Leo just checked in from the docks," Vincent reported. "Richard Vance hasn't shown up at the corporate offices in Providence tonight. His private car was spotted forty minutes ago heading south toward the ferry launch at Point Judith."
"He's going to Block Island," Evan said, sitting up from the medical table. "He knows I survived the hit tonight. He's going to destroy the lightkeeper's cottage before we can recover the ledgers."
"He won't make it," Vincent said coldly, pulling his car keys from his pocket. "I have a high-speed interceptor docked at the private slip. We can cross the bay in twenty minutes."
"I'm coming with you," Evan said, standing up despite the pain in his side.
"You're injured," Vincent argued.
"It's my ledger, Vin," Evan insisted, stepping toe-to-toe with his twin. "And I know where the vault is hidden under the floorboards. You'll waste half an hour trying to break through the iron casing without me."
Vincent glared at his brother for a long moment, then nodded once. He turned his attention to Savannah.
"Leo and four trusted men are staying here to guard the estate," Vincent told her, his voice dropping into a gentle, earnest tone. "You and Lucy stay in the panic room until we return."
Savannah looked at the two men—twins who looked like two halves of a fractured storm, bound together by blood and four years of devastating lies.
"Bring him back alive, Vincent," Savannah said quietly. "Both of you."
May you like
Vincent stared at her, his dark eyes softening as he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against her shoulder in a rare, fleeting gesture of warmth.
"I promise," Vincent whispered.
