Bill didn't want to say goodbye to Amanda. He didn't think he could stand seeing her cry. The gut twisting emotions she inspired made him crazy. Unfortunately he wasn't free to act. Shana would be vindictive in the divorce if she thought he cheated. Now that she'd gone off the deep end he was glad that she'd signed the prenup. His lawyer had been brilliant and added a clause stating that if she cheated she received nothing.



He didn't want to dump her without any funds, but she'd brought the problem upon herself. Now he had a chance to break free and maybe, just maybe be with someone who would have no problem with his money or his career choice.



The coke he sipped at gurgled as he reached the bottom of the cup. He poked the straw around the ice, his thoughts on Amanda. If he had a woman like her would he stay with the FBI?



Why hadn't he quit when he married Shana? He'd thought it was his deep desire to catch the bad guys, but maybe he could see the shallowness in Shana and he couldn't stand being with that twenty-four-seven.



It did no good to obsess over Shana and her attitude. When the money came out she'd shown who she really was and now all he had to do was let her leave.



The helpless anger he felt at her betrayal surged with the helplessness he felt in his job. He was screwed. The probability of finding the guy who had abducted Amanda rose significantly since they had a sketch. It rose even more since he recognized the guy.



How the hell could Sam do something like this? Few things amazed him after seeing all that he'd seen working for the FBI, but this truly had shocked him. Sam, of all people.



Richard's phone buzzed. He checked the caller id, and decided not to answer. His boss could wait. There were two more places he wanted to check out before leaving the island.



The restaurant and the boat docks. Those two places needed to be checked. If he had time he would talk to Louis one last time, but the locals were busy trying to keep peace in the areas that were hit the hardest.

Amanda's attacker had meant to kill her. No other bodies had washed up. No one turned up like Amanda, hurt and confused.



He walked into Bleu Fish and wondered if Shana were here. If he saw her again with another man it would kill him. He knew they were done with, but still it hurt. If Shana knew how he felt about Amanda she would probably throw a fit.



It wasn't right to be with Amanda and he knew it. She couldn't be more than just a victim on another case. Come tomorrow the case would no longer be his.



His eyes adjusted to the dark interior. A few couples were munching on their breakfast. The bar was empty. He guessed even vacationers had to take a break from getting sauced.



A bouncy girl that looked way too young to be waiting tables at a bar popped over. "Hi, can I get you a table?"



"No thanks, I need to speak to the manager."



"Oh, Jack's not in, but Mattie is. She works morning shift."



Bill smiled, "Thanks, that would be great." He waited for Mattie to come out, wondering if he were wasting his time. How the hell could Banks expect him to leave?



The back office door opened. A middle aged woman walked out, her skin was the color of a milky latte, her smile white as snow. He liked her almost instantly. He let his approval show through his smile and hoped that would win him some cooperation points.



"Hello, my name is Mattie. I am in charge today. What can I help you with?"



Bill picked up his briefcase to pull Sam's picture out. The woman frowned at the formal business equipment. "I hope you are not trying to sell me something."



"No ma'am. I'm Agent Bill Rowland with the FBI."



"FBI? You do know the Bahamas aren't part of the United States?"



"Yes ma'am. I'm here just lending a hand on a case."



"Show me what you are holding," her voice lost the singsong nature, her smile gone.



"Have you seen this man?"



She studied the drawing, her brows pinched. "I remember a fellow about a year ago looking like this. But he wouldn't hurt anyone."



"Why do you say that?"



"It's island business. American FBI agent doesn't understand island business."



"You had a feeling about the guy?"



"Not just a feeling. I know bad when I see bad."



"Okay–"



She huffed and frowned. "No not okay, you don't believe me, you leave."



"I believe you, but the woman who he hurt said this was the guy."



"She's wrong."



Bill tried his best to remain calm. He'd dealt with difficult people before, they had a way of making you want to shoot them. Not that he'd ever really shoot an innocent civilian, but every minute with this lady made her seem less innocent.



"So you saw this guy a year ago?"



"Yes, but he's not your guy."



"Thanks." Bill turned to leave, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. His hand automatically reached for his gun.



Mattie's voice was soft behind him. "No need to do that. Just going to say that just 'cuz one door closes doesn't mean another one opens. Watch yourself."



"Thanks." The bright sun stung his eyes when he emerged from the Bleu Fish. What the hell had that crazy witch doctor meant? He had a sinking feeling that she'd been talking about Shana and Amanda. The door to Shana had most definitely closed. There would be no going back. He wouldn't beg her to stay and if the tables turned, he wouldn't stick around if she begged.



The cool breeze off the ocean broke up the heat two blocks from the docks. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. He loved the scent of the salty ocean air. Maybe he should chuck the day job and be a laze about bum like the rest of his family. He shook his head, disgusted. It wouldn't work and he knew it. All it took was two weeks vacation and he itched to get back to the daily grind. Even with all of its faults he loved the FBI. What a shame. He knew men who would love to be rid of the shackles of work but couldn't afford it.



Bill stood at the top of the docks and watched three sailboats, two cigar boats and one small motor boat choreograph a dance as old as time. A deep primal part of every man wanted to explore the ocean, to investigate the surprises of the horizon.



For him the investigating had been a bigger pull than searching out new horizons. Someone had seen their guy. All he had to do was investigate the shit out of this island to find the bastard.



What if the island turned up no secrets? His boss was right. This search was a fool's game. The allure of being close to Amanda had held him here longer than he needed to stay. The beautiful superstar wasn't interested in him. He'd read too much into her gratitude.



He slouched down onto a bench, looking out to the sea. Shana leaving him had left a hole that called for filling. But filling the empty place before he healed would be shortsighted and wrong. Amanda deserved better and he deserved better.



The urge to jump up and find something to fill his mind pulled at him, but he stay seated just watching the boats, birds and sea. It was almost time for him to take another vacation. This year he wouldn't go to his private island, too many memories. Maybe he could travel to Moscow and tour the city. The cold, gray bleakness would probably kill him, but it would fit his mood.



Two sailboats docked, the people aboard one of the boats scrambled to tie up to the dock. The woman's movements were jerky and unsure. The man stumbled and had to grab onto the mast more than once.



He focused in on the pair. Something looked off. The couple scrambled up the walkway, the man's gait a little off. Was he drunk?



Bill squinted and shaded his eyes with his hand. His stomach dropped and his blood when ice cold. The object of his investigation had just walked into his sphere.



Without thinking, his hand lowered to his holster, flipping the lock and drawing down on the man as he stepped onto dry land. "Samuel Taylor, put your hands on your head and drop to your knees."



Sam blinked twice and still didn't move.



"Sam, I mean it. FBI, drop to the ground now."



"William?"



"Now. Hands on head. Knees on pavement."



"What's this about?" The woman next to him asked.



Bill did a double take. "Delanie Skhy?"



"What's going on?" Sam asked.



"I'll answer your question once you do as I ask."



Sam brought his hands up and sunk to his knees. "There, I'm on my knees. Hand's up."



"This is ridiculous." Delanie made a move towards Sam.



This would get out of hand, soon if he didn't get a hold of the situation. Sweat dripped down his back and started to make a trail down from his brow.



"Okay, Ms. Skhy, I need you to step aside. Go sit on that bench and don't move."



For a moment it looked as though she wasn't going to move. Eventually she stepped aside lowering to the bench.



"Why are you arresting Sam? He's been with me for the last few days."



Delanie and Amanda had similar looks. Even though Delanie's hair was a little darker than her normal warm blond she still would draw the attention of a man hell bent on killing off blonds.



Damn, he had to find Sam with a gorgeous blonde who happened to be famous. What were the odds? It wasn't as if he'd set a sting. Hell, few stings went this well.



"Sam, I'm going to put cuffs on you. Then we'll go down to the station to talk."



Sam didn't move. It had been years since Bill had cuffed anyone alone. He always had back up. Always had another gun trained on the suspect. He regulated his breathing hoping to bring his errant heart under control. His veins had popped from the adrenalin rush. He couldn't do this one handed, he had to holster his gun.



Bill said a quick prayer as he stepped forward and slapped the cuffs on Sam. If either Sam or Delanie had made a move he would have been shit out of luck.



Bill tightened the cuffs, not wanting to chance having a problem.



"Ms. Skhye, I suggest you grab a taxi and take it into town. Find a nice hotel and hide from the press."



"Where are you taking Sam?" She moved closer, her body language non-threatening.



"We'll be at the main police station, but let me warn you, if you show up the press will get wind of it."



"I'm not going to let that keep me away," her voice heavy with anger."



"Delanie," Sam interrupted them, "Please don't–"



"No, I'm coming down there just to make sure they allow you a phone call."



"Bill and I can work this out. You need to get somewhere safe."



Bill straightened his shoulders and pushed forward. His car parked more than two blocks away. This could get a little hairy if Sam didn't cooperate. "Come on, it's time to move out."



Delanie followed behind, "Sam, I'll be there soon. Don't say anything until we can get a lawyer in there."



Sam stopped walking and there was nothing Bill could do. Sam was taller and stronger. "Delanie, I'll be fine. This is just some sort of misunderstanding. Trust me. This will blow over soon. Find a cab and go somewhere safe."



The confidence in Sam's voice angered Bill. How could the bastard know it would blow over soon? Bill had yet to tell him why he was being taken in. The arrest might be put to question. He was a U.S. officer of the law, not Bahamian. He would make it all legal after they made it to the police station.



Damn, this was wonderful and sucked all at the same time. He hoped he hadn't blown their chance to really get the guy. If Sam walked because of his impatience then he would kick himself later, but for now he had one less killer on the streets.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011