Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [60]
Lowering the binoculars, he decided to get back to the marina as quickly as possible, then he’d rethink his plans, which, in Tylerspeak, meant he’d think about actually making some plans. Tyler cranked the boat, no longer caring if the two men saw him or not. He figured if they wanted to do him harm, they’d had their chance. Pulling back on the throttle, he zoomed across the water at maximum speed. Even though he knew that his days as DEA chief in the Miami district were numbered, Tyler was still the boss. So what if he considered himself in deep? No one other than he, and obviously his blackmailer, knew his whereabouts. He still held a position of authority, and he planned to take advantage of it for as long as possible. Arnold Jellard had some explaining to do.
Kate lifted her right hand high in the air, indicating to Sandy it was safe to move forward. Sweat trickled down her neck, settling at the base of her spine and soaking the waistband of her shorts. The heat and humidity were almost unbearable and made worse by the rain. Insects the size of bees swarmed around her but didn’t touch her skin. Sandy, on the other hand, couldn’t stop smacking herself. Kate wanted to say, “I told you so,” but knew it’d have to wait, as they had more pressing matters to deal with. Like trying to figure out how they were going to scale an eight-foot-high brick wall. The gates were electrified, and there was a security system she’d have to dismantle. Whoever had once lived here, and perhaps still did so, wanted to make damned sure no one could get inside.
Behind her, Sandy awaited further instruction.
“I think it’s safe to whisper. One of us is going to have to climb this fence if we want inside. Wanna toss for it?” Kate asked.
“I suppose you just happen to have a coin?” Sandy remarked.
“Of course. I always come prepared.”
From her pocket, Kate removed her lucky coin, a silver halfdollar given to her by her father when she was ten years old. Tossing it high in the air, she caught it before it hit the sand. She plopped the coin in her open palm. “Call it.”
“Heads I scale the damned fence, tails it’s all yours.”
Kate opened her palm, the coin tails side up. “Crap!”
Sandy laughed. “I’ll be happy to offer you a boost.”
Kate snarled quietly.
Without further ado, Kate and Sandy cautiously walked around to the area behind the structure. They’d decided beforehand it would be best to try and enter from the rear, just in case they were being spied on by Tyler or anyone else. Both had heard a boat motor minutes ago. Kate assumed Tyler was spying on them and didn’t give it too much thought since she’d never considered him a danger or a risk. She knew she could and would kick his ass if necessary.
Both women remained alert, conscious of the fact that what they were about to do was breaking the law, because Jellard hadn’t obtained any legal authorization for them to enter the premises. Remaining off the book had its advantages and disadvantages. On the slim chance they would need backup, they were basically out of luck.
In a harsh whisper, Sandy pushed Kate to make her move. “What the hell are you waiting for? You suddenly afraid of heights or something?”
Kate looked over her shoulder. “You want to do this, be my guest. I’m looking for wires; there is a security alarm, remember? I’ll need to cut it, and I’m not absolutely sure which is which. Red, green, or yellow. One wrong slice, and I could activate whatever alarm this fortress has.”
“Yeah, but remember—Mango Key doesn’t have a police force. It’d have to be the Coast Guard, and something