Free Dead Asleep by Jamie Freveletti Page B

shove it back into the recesses of her brain before it could take hold.
    Now, when the fear reached her throat and her eyes began to sting with tears, she did the same thing she did on mile eighty of a hundred mile run—she told herself that she would prevail because to stop meant failure. In this case, she knew that to stop would kill her.
    Mud and stinking water covered her clothes. Her sodden shoes felt like heavy weights attached to her ankles. Her palms were slick with sweat and striped with green ooze that wrapped around some of the lower, underwater branches. She splashed down into the rank liquid and back up onto the twisted roots in what seemed an endless vista of misshapen branches.
    Finally, she took the time to glance behind her to gauge his progress. All she saw were mangrove trunks in a wild, squiggly line pattern. He wasn’t behind her. She slowed, trying to control the loud rasping of her own breathing in order to hear. There was nothing. Not the sound of splashing water, winded breathing, or cracking wood.
    Once again he was gone as quick as he had appeared.
    Emma slowed her pace and not long afterward emerged from the grove. She’d left her Jeep at the mangrove’s edge but didn’t see it in any direction and knew she was in the wrong place. After a moment she found her bearings and headed west, keeping out in the open and well away from the brush. She wasn’t about to give the man benefit of cover. If he was going to attack again, he’d have to cross thirty feet of open field.
    A butterfly landed on a nearby weed, its wings spread to the sun, and birds chirped all around. Her heart still thumped at an alarming rate despite the beauty and peacefulness around her. Deceptive peacefulness, she thought. This island was harboring more dark secrets than anyone suspected.
    The midday sun beat down, creating shimmering heat waves on the pavement when she found the Jeep. The leather seats were hot to the touch as she gingerly lowered herself into the driver’s side, then threw the car into gear and headed back toward her villa. Her clothes stank and her heart still raced. She mentally crossed off the rest of her required errands. She’d come to Terra Cay in the hopes that after collecting her specimens she could spend the rest of the holiday relaxing, but now all she wanted was to get back to her house in Miami Beach. She shoved the hands-free headset for her phone into her ear and called Moore.
    â€œI found him,” she said. “He’s in the mangrove.” She briefly described the attack and the location where she last saw the dreadlocked man. “I’m getting out of this area,” she concluded. “I don’t want to be alone if he returns.”
    â€œI understand. Randiger and I will take it from here. Go home and lock your doors.”
    Emma shifted the car into second gear as the Jeep started the climb to the top of the hill. She swung through the entrance guarded by two pillars and slowed when she saw a blue Aston Martin parked in her spot. Carrow leaned against the door, speaking on a cell phone. He hung up when he saw her. His expression was grim, his mouth set. His eyes were bloodshot and all of the exuberance she’d seen in him earlier was gone. She parked halfway on the grass next to his car, killed the engine and looked at her watch.
    â€œIsn’t it a bit early for you to be back?” she said. Carrow gave her a somber look, and seemed not to notice her disheveled state.
    â€œWe airlifted Martin out about two hours ago. He never woke up, and I decided not to risk waiting.”
    â€œI’m sorry to hear that,” Emma said.
    â€œAnd now Layton’s asleep.”

Chapter 11
    L ayton Nalen was the band’s bass player.
    â€œDoes he do drugs as well?”
    Carrow nodded. “I checked for mandrake powder. Nothing.”
    â€œOxy?”
    Carrow sighed. “Yes. Cocaine when he can get it and some new prescription