“They want to,” she said firmly. “But they can’t until they figure out where it is. As I say, they were hoping to track Domitian’s phone, but Dressler must have destroyed or disabled it or they’d already have stormed the island, taken Dressler into custody, and freed the people he’s taken.”
“But why would El Doctor put you on the little island with this man, Chiquita?” her grandmother asked.
“Probably to harvest eggs,” Mrs. Dressler said grimly, saving Sarita having to answer.
“He wouldn’t need the man for that. Just Sarita,” Thorne said, and the familiarity with which he used her name startled her. He spoke her name as if he had known her for years. But then, perhaps he too had been there for the letter readings, she thought. Perhaps like Mrs. Dressler he felt he knew her from her writings.
A crooked smile claimed her lips. It seemed like everyone in this room knew all about her life and had known of her and felt connected to her for years, Domitian with his private detective reports, and the rest of them from her letters. She was the only one who didn’t or hadn’t known much in return. She hadn’t known about Domitian at all, and other than mentioning their names, her grandmother hadn’t said much about Thorne or Elizabeth Dressler, and hadn’t revealed much about herself either . . . like that she’d been a prisoner here all these years.
“Perhaps he was hoping for some fertilized eggs,” Mrs. Dressler said into the silence.
“He couldn’t have expected my little Sarita to have sex with a stranger,” her grandmother protested at once. “She’s a good girl.”
Sarita winced at those words, and felt Domitian squeezing her hand gently.
“I wouldn’t put it past Ramsey to have put drugs in whatever food and water he supplied to get whatever he wanted,” Elizabeth said gently in response and then turned her head back toward Sarita and Domitian and added, “It’s good you left the little island. Whatever reason he had for putting you there could not be good. But why come here?” she asked almost plaintively. “This is even less safe for you than the little island.”
“That is my fault,” Sarita admitted. “Domitian wanted to swim for the mainland, but I found a half-written letter from you, Mrs. Dressler, to someone named Margaret. It was tucked in a book in the office. In it you mentioned that this island was about half an hour or forty-five minutes north of the little island by fishing boat. That seemed manageable, whereas we weren’t sure how far the mainland was.
“Besides, I was worried about you, Grandmother,” Sarita said, addressing the woman next to her. “I saw one of his experiments in that lab of his, and after Dressler knocked me out, and then I learned about all the people he’s been taking and experimenting on, I was worried about you. I thought this way we could check to be sure you were all right, get the exact coordinates for the island from you, use your phone to call the mainland, and pass along the information. And now I can tell them to be cautious, that there are hybrids and humans who are not on Dressler’s side, but some who are.”
“Oh, Chiquita . . .” Maria Reyes squeezed her hand firmly with one of her own, and patted it with her other. “We have no phone. El Doctor would not trust us with one. We could not even seal any letters we sent from the island. They had to go through him and he read them first.”
Sarita wasn’t terribly surprised by this. It actually explained the odd tone of the letters over the years. They were affectionate yet reserved at the same time.
A curse from Domitian brought her from her thoughts and Sarita turned his way and assured him, “It is all right. There is a phone in the big house.”
“Are you sure?” he asked with concern.
“Yes. The office door was open one day and I rushed to it thinking Dr. Dressler must be back, but Big Beefy Guy was inside talking on a phone.”
Rather than relax at this news, she could actually see him frown. The room was getting lighter quickly. In fact, she could see him well enough to notice that he was extremely pale.
“Getting into the house might be tricky,” he said now with concern. “I do not like your taking that risk. I will do it myself and—”
“Yeah right,” Sarita said and snorted rudely at the suggestion. “Not gonna happen. Besides, it isn’t that risky. Dressler’s security is a joke,” she assured him. “All we have to do is wait until dinnertime and we can practically walk in.”
Domitian shook his head. “I do not want you taking that risk.”
“And I am not going to be left behind like some helpless creature who can’t take care of herself,” she snapped impatiently. Honestly! She was trained for this stuff. Well, not exactly this stuff, Sarita acknowledged, but she wasn’t some—
“Perhaps it would be better to try to steal a boat,” Domitian said now. “That way we could take every one in this room and get them safely away from the island before the raid.” Glancing to where Thorne stood hidden in the shadows, he asked, “He has more than one boat here, si?”
“Yes,” Thorne answered. “But the keys are kept elsewhere and he keeps both the keys and the boats well guarded. He makes sure that no one can leave the island without his say so. As for the security on the house,” he added and Sarita thought his head turned slightly her way. “While most of the men leave their posts at dinnertime. There are still some on duty, and the cameras do not turn off. They are on all day every day. The minute you entered the house someone would know.”
Sarita pursed her lips as she considered the situation and then said, “His office has French doors. We’d have to go in that way. I could barricade the doors to the hall while you made the call. You’d have to be quick, just tell them the island is owned by Elizabeth Salter, and warn them to be prepared for a large security force and then get off. Hopefully that way we can get out before they stop us.”
“And if we don’t?” Domitian asked solemnly.
“Then we get caught and hold on until help comes,” she said with a shrug.
“You don’t seem to understand,” Thorne said now. “The cameras are everywhere around the house, labs, and dock. They are also in trees on the border of the jungle so that Dressler can see every inch of shoreline and yard.”
Sarita stiffened and looked to Domitian with alarm. “He’ll know we’re here then.”
“No,” Thorne said, drawing her gaze his way again. “Fortunately for you I couldn’t sleep last night and was out . . . walking. I noticed you in the ocean long before you neared shore and took care of the cameras on the cove where you came out.”
“Took care of them how?” Domitian asked.
“I snapped a branch above one, so that it hung in front of it obscuring its view. No doubt they’ll send someone out to check on it, but hopefully they’ll just assume an animal landed on the branch and snapped it.”
“You said you took care of them,” Domitian pointed out.
“I positioned myself in front of the other one until you left the cove,” Thorne admitted reluctantly. “They won’t think much of my being there.”
“In the tree?” Sarita asked, recalling the sounds she’d heard and the moving branches in the tree. If this man had caused it, he was one hell of a tree climber, she thought. The branches she’d seen move had been at the top, some thirty feet in the air at least.
Thorne grunted in the affirmative and then added, “There are no cameras in the jungle itself, just in the trees along the border. There were at one time but they kept getting damaged or destroyed by animals, so Dressler didn’t bother replacing them. He felt watching the approach to the jungle was sufficient. So once the two of you had started up the hill, I hurried ahead to wake mother and warn her you were coming. Once I had her situated out here, I took care of the cameras along the side and front of the house as well, and then went up to wake Maria.”
“Will he not think it odd that all the cameras on the front and side of the house were destroyed?” Domitian asked, a frown in his voice.
“No. I destroy them regularly,” Thorne said with a shrug.