Bennie gripped the handstrap, and the helicopter left behind the funky architecture and neon lights of Miami. Her hair flew around her face, and she sat pitched forward, looking down through the windshield. The wind buffeted them, the engine rattled in her ears, and the rotors whined at a high pitch. The clouds shifted, and the moon popped into view, shining on a ripple of black water, making whitecaps like a strand of pearls.
The pilot was an older man who knew the heavyset guy from the airport, and Bennie didn’t know more than that about him. He seemed to know what he was doing, his hands moving expertly over the console, with its instruments, gauges, and dials, their colorful numbers glowing disembodied in the dark.
She tried to figure out Alice’s next move. The girl was probably on her way to the Bahamas, if not there already. She must have flown private. The credit cards didn’t get canceled tonight because everybody had been so busy. She wondered if the FBI had called down to the Bahamas. She had no ID, no passport, and no idea how she’d get onto the island.
“Change of plans!” the pilot shouted, to be heard. “Can’t land at L.P.”
“What?”
“Lyden Pindling, the Nassau airport. Gotta take you to another island. Get the ferry to Nassau tomorrow morning.”
“No, I have to get to Nassau tonight. That’s the deal.”
“Too bad. They closed the airport.”
“Can’t you land somewhere else on the island?”
“That’ll cost you.”
“I have the cash. You saw it.”
“Roger that. Hang on, blondie.”
Blondie. It was who Bennie had become. Otherwise, she didn’t know who she was anymore. She used to fight for the law, and now she was an outlaw. She was about to enter a country illegally.
And her intent was to kill.