“Not you.We.”
I was afraid she was going to say that.
“First thing’s first,” she says. “We need an airboat, and I have to reschedule my meetings for the day.”
22
Temperance
The airboat skids across the water as we round the turn, and a smile breaks over my face. I forgot how much I love this feeling. It’s like flying.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” Kane yells over the roar of the engine as I slow down enough to make another slight turn before hitting the throttle again.
“No,” I tell him as I laugh. “We’ll probably get lost and have to hunt gator to survive.”
His hand clamps down on my knee as he looks over his shoulder from his seat in front of me. “Tell me you’re lying.”
“Can’t. We’re lost until I find the tree I’m looking for.”
“A tree? That could’ve disappeared since you came here last? Jesus, Temperance. Really?”
“Ye of little faith.” I crow in victory when I spot it up ahead, about a hundred yards away. It’s unmistakable. Years ago, Rafe told me the Indians braided mangroves together to make it into something they could use to find their way. Regardless of whether that’s true or not, it helps me remember this particular landmark. “We turn here and head north for a few minutes.”
Kane gives me a look of disbelief but doesn’t argue. It’s a little like the blind leading the blind, but it’s the best idea I could come up with to find Rafe. No one knows these swamps like my brother. He’s been living off them his whole life—first for game and fish, and then for smuggling.
I know just enough to get us to one of his cabins—or get us lost. It’s a fifty-fifty shot.
I make the turn up ahead at a stump that looks familiar. Or, at least, I hope it looks familiar.
A heron swoops down in front of us, snatching a fish from the water before landing on the branch of a dead tree. I spot a gator next to a log and tap on Kane’s back to point it out.
“See him? He’s a juvenile still. Got a lot of growing to do.”
“How do you know?”
Normally, I would have tried to hide my knowledge of all things swamp, but something about Kane makes being back here different.
“We’re in my hood.” For the first time ever, the fact doesn’t make me feel like I’mless. It’s just a fact. Maybe he’s rubbing off on me.
I spot the frame of the shack in the distance. “There. Up ahead. See it?”
Kane’s head swivels in the direction I’m pointing as he palms a .45. “Approach slowly.”
I let off on the throttle and give the airboat just enough power to coast toward the cabin. It actually surprised me when he didn’t argue when I told him I was driving.
“It’s not like they won’t hear us coming.”
The airboat engines are deafeningly loud, hence the reason we’re yelling to hear each other through our earmuffs.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He’s got the pistol out front, and he’s sighted in on the cabin.
“Don’t shoot my brother.”
“If he shoots first, I make no promises.”
Since I know that won’t happen, I maneuver the boat until we bump up against the pylons supporting the cabin and cut the engine.
When I lift off my earmuffs, the silence is overwhelming at first. Beyond the rustle of the leaves in the breeze and the sound of birds and the lapping water, there’s nothing.