Amos took it from me. “I’ll do it. My prints on his bible wouldn’t be an issue.”
You’d better hope they won’t be, I said inside my head.
The other priest flipped through the bible. “There are a few passages highlighted, but I don’t see anything—”
A small piece of paper fluttered out from between the pages and onto the floor.
“I really wouldn’t touch that,” Rock said.
Amos nodded, gloved his hand with a Ziploc, and attempted to pick the paper up from the floor, which had, of course, fallen facedown. It took a couple tries. “Next time we bring rubber gloves.”
“I sure hope to God there won’t ever be a next time for this,” I said. “What’s it say?”
“It’s a number. A phone number maybe?”
Rock looked over Amos’s shoulder at the paper. “That’s no phone number. Those are GPS coordinates.”
My heart pounded. “For what?”
“Do I look like a cartographer to you?” my brother said. “How the hell should I know?”
I regarded Jim. He was still bleeding out, and his pallor had morphed from white to grayish. Not a good sign. I should change his bandages.
Instead, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, walked to Amos, and punched the GPS coordinates into my app.
“I’ll be damned.”
“What is it?” Amos and Rock asked in unison.
“It’s somewhere in the Pacific.”
“His island,” Rock said.
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“What island?” Amos asked.
“Long story,” I said.
“Shit!” Rock rushed over to Father Jim. “He doesn’t look good, man.”
I pushed the palm of my hand back against his carotid. “Fuck. Nothing.”
“Whatever he knows is gone with him.” Rock looked around.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I was just kind of expecting the demons from hell to come get him, like in the movie Ghost.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can only see them if you’re dead.” I paused. “Maybe it was a suicide. Maybe he left the coordinates as a clue. Who the hell knows? Maybe he sent us on a wild goose chase and will be cackling at us from the depths of hell.”
“We have to consider all possibilities,” Rock said. “Now, to figure out how we check out these coordinates without leaving New York.”
“I can send Leif and Buck.”
“Leif and Buck are good men, but I don’t trust anyone on this but family.”
“But—”
“Dude, a week ago, you trusted Terrence. Even the most loyal can be turned.”
I opened my mouth but then closed it. My brother was right. We had to go ourselves. “So we find Dad’s connection at the FAA. No one will know we’re gone.”
“If only it were that simple,” Rock said.
“Maybe it is. Dad had to have left something somewhere. He wasn’t planning to die, after all. He was planning to fake it.”
“That’s still just a theory,” Rock reminded me.
He was right. It was a theory, but it was a good one. “You’re forgetting one thing, Rock. I knew Derek Wolfe better than any of you. I worked alongside him. I learned from him, and I know what’s on-brand. Faking his death and screwing over his kids? Classic Derek Wolfe. But putting a hit on himself and having it followed through? Not Derek Wolfe. Why would he end his own life? Why would he give up the empire he’s built?”
“Good enough,” Rock said.
Sirens blared in the distance.
“Shit. Time to go. If we go out the back, is there a way back to the church?” I asked Amos.
“Yeah,” he said. “Follow me.”
18
Lacey
I sat next to Rock in the conference room in his hotel suite. None of us felt completely comfortable anywhere in the actual office building. Not when an assistant as loyal—or so we thought—as Terrence could be turned.
Rock pushed a new piece of paper with the GPS coordinates written on it toward Riley.
“Ring a bell?”
“Those coordinates?” She shook her head. “I wish I could tell you. All I know is that the island is in the Pacific somewhere.”
“Near Hawaii?” Reid asked. “Or Japan?”
Riley bit her bottom lip. “I wish I were more help. I honestly don’t recall getting there. It’s all a blur.”
“She thinks she was probably drugged,” I said. “Go easy on her.”
“My bastard father,” Rock growled.
“Easy,” I said.
Rock could be feral when he was angry. Right now, we needed clearer heads to prevail.
“Then there’s Prince Christian,” I continued. “Or who Riley thinks may have been Prince Christian.”
“Two pretty good leads,” Reid said. “I’ve got a call with my contact at the FBI this afternoon. I’m hoping to get clearance for us to fly. We’ll use fake IDs and fly commercial. We can’t risk taking the jet.”
Rock nodded. “Makes sense.”
“We just need to find out where the nearest landing field is. We may have to take puddle jumpers or a boat or ferry to the actual island.”
“Wait,” Riley said.
“Yeah, sis?” Reid asked.
“I have a memory. It’s… It’s a small boat. I remember puking over the side. Just once. That’s all I recall.” She paused a minute. “He must have kept me drugged after that, so I wouldn’t get seasick.”