The Killing Edge by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

the man’s hands and forcing them down. “Come aboard, sit, and I’ll tell you what I know.”
    The aft deck led straight into the central cabin. For many years now, the boat had been both his home and his occupational therapy. He’d spent hours on the woodwork and the old chrome. The galley was up-to-date and fully functional; the main cabin offered an elegant teak dining table with a horseshoe-shaped bench that accommodated at least ten. Across from the table, a long, comfortably upholstered sofa invited more guests, and there were two stationary easy chairs, as well. A set of six steps led to the bridge above, while a hallway led to the master cabin at the stern, passing two additional sleeping cabins on the way, one to port and one to starboard. She was a labor of love and the perfect home, at least for the time being. The water here in a canal off the Intracoastal wasn’t the clearest he’d ever seen, and there was the noise of small boats of all kinds coming through. Still, the constant movement of the water kept it clean enough, and he liked being able to jump in for a swim whenever the hell he felt like it. People relaxed in tubes and floating chairs outside the neighboring bait-and-beer shop, and on a warm summer’s day, there was nothing like the pleasure of being right on the water.
    It was a far cry from his native country.
    Every once in a while, he still yearned for home, but he figured that was why God had gotten together with the Wright brothers to create airplanes.
    Octavio followed him on board, a little more slowly, using the hull rail for support as he carefully crossed over to thedeck. Luke led the way into the cabin, helping himself to a beer from the refrigerator as he passed.
    “Octavio, beer?” he offered.
    “No, no,” Octavio replied.
    Luke reached into a cabinet above the sink and found a bottle of cognac. He held it up questioningly, and at first the other man looked as if he would refuse, but then he nodded. He accepted the glass Luke poured for him and sank into one of the easy chairs.
    “Why?” he asked, running his fingers through what hair he had left. He sounded baffled and lost. “Why won’t she just speak to me?” He looked at Luke. “But you say she’s there—she’s alive and she’s well. Somehow we have to reach her. She can’t go on that shoot. She will die. I know this.”
    Luke took the chair across from Octavio, gripping the beer bottle, feeling the sweat. “She’s definitely there, and I was able to speak with a friend of hers,” he said.
    “Ay, Dios mio.” Octavio crossed himself in thanksgiving.
    “I’ll try to get closer and get her to call you,” Luke said. “But we’re in a tough position. If she was in immediate and imminent danger, I could drag her out of there.”
    “Yes, yes! Drag her out!”
    Luke shook his head. “Octavio, I’m not averse to pulling a few tricks, but not the kind that won’t get you anywhere—and will get me thrown in jail. What you have to understand is that you can’t keep your daughter prisoner. If I forced her to go home, she would just leave again. She could even accuse you and your wife of abduction and imprisonment if she wanted to.”
    “My daughter could do that?” Octavio said, and he looked like a man about to cry, a man who couldn’t begin to understand the stupidity of those around him. “Why doesn’t she see the danger?” he demanded passionately. “She loved Colleen. They played together when they were little girls, they knew right from wrong. Rene cried and cried when Colleen disappeared, but then…she believed the story this agency is telling. She believed those lying bastards who said that Colleen had run away. All because she wants to be a model, to be rich and have men lusting after her.
    “Yes, we were strict, stern fathers. We cared who our daughters went out with, when they came home. We didn’t let our niñas get hooked on drugs. We tried to teach them right from wrong. But they watch