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He wheels around, brushing by us as he returns to the car. I hover uncertainly between the parked vehicles and the station, watching as the guys swivel as one to get back in their cars.

What the heck is happening right now?

“Neve!” Oz sticks his head out from the window and barks. I jump. “Get in the car!”

I get in the car, in the back seat this time, as Oliver is already in the front.

“What’s going on?” I pull the seatbelt across my lap as Oscar tears from the parking lot, flipping his lights on.

“There was a break-in at the marina.”

“We were just there!” I exclaim.

Oliver lets out a low whistle. “So, we weren’t so far off base at all, were we?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Oz agrees. “Desk clerk says she came back from an early lunch break to find the lock jimmied.”

“Why would someone break into a marina office? What does it have that they could possibly want?”

“Keys,” Oliver supplies. “If this is our guy—and no way to know—but if it is, he might need keys to steal a boat and get this kid off the island.”

“Who knows?” Oz says. “But I don’t like that it happened at the marina, which is where we were planning to focus the search that’s about to get underway. It’s too coincidental.”

I suddenly feel like we shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t…Cope shouldn’t. This reeks of desperation, and desperate people are dangerous. What could I do if whoever broke into the marina office is still there, if guns ended up being drawn?

Nothing, that’s what. Absolutely nothing.

I’m in the way here, a liability.

As much as I hate to admit it, Oscar was right.

As if sensing my panic, Oliver reaches back and puts his hand on my knee. The simple gesture calms me, centers me. I push the panic away and breathe. The guys are here, and we’re all going to be just fine.

When we arrive at the marina, I see the desk clerk immediately, standing outside of a large, white office building trimmed in blue with her arms folded across her chest. A few people—customers?—are standing with her, visibly annoyed.

Probably irritated that she’s not allowing them into the building.

Oz gets out and strides toward her, and after a shared glance, Oliver shrugs and we follow, hanging back a few strides.

Behind the clerk, a door stands ajar a couple of inches, its window broken. “Someone went in,” Cope murmurs from over my shoulder.

“Do you think they’re still in there?” I ask, still uneasy.

Jesse shrugs. “We’ll find out, one way or another.”

Oz, positioned at the door, motions, and the guys start toward him. Jesse takes a step, then turns and points a finger in my direction. “Stay with Cope.”

I nod, my eyes wide as I watch the proceedings.

Oscar gestures to Remi and Oliver, and without hesitation, they split in opposite directions and begin moving around the perimeter of the building. “If anyone’s on the outside of the building,” Cope murmurs into my hair, “they’ll flank them. Jesse will go in with Oz so he doesn’t end up outnumbered.”

“But they’re not armed.”

“They don’t need to be. They both have skills.”

His breath stirs my hair.

As Oscar and Jesse disappear inside, a ripple of dissent moves through the gathered bystanders. The waiting customers shift, impatient, and a group of tourists pauses to watch and take photos with their cellphones. Someone shouts, and I shrink back toward Cope.