Page 212 of Kiss Heaven Goodbye

Alex nodded with anxiety. If Michael’s men had even touched her, he would kill them.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked when she answered.

‘Just wondering where the hell you are. Is everything OK?’

‘We’ve got Miles, he’s fine. Have you called the police?’

‘It took some persuading, but they’re on their way.’

‘Have you seen Sasha or the detective?’

‘No.’

‘Good. Now lock yourself in your bedroom.’

‘Alex, what’s going on?’

‘Please. Just do it,’ he pleaded.

The three men ran around the beach path and through a stretch of mangrove towards the caretaker’s cottage. Philip asked Alex to give him the gun, which he did willingly. The rain was lashing down on to the island and their hair and clothes were soaked. Seeing the staff buildings, they stopped behind a bike shed.

‘What the fuck do we do now?’ asked Miles, wiping the rain from his face with his sleeve.

‘You knock on the door and wait for Benny to answer,’ said Philip calmly.

‘I’m not doing that! He might be with Carlton. He might have a gun. He could kill me.’

Philip frowned. ‘I’ve got a gun and I’ll fire it at you if you don’t bloody knock at that door.’

Seeing he had no choice, Miles puffed out his cheeks and walked up to the cottage’s front door. Alex and Philip crept closer around a thick line of trees until they were just ten feet from the cottage. The light was poor, which Alex hoped would keep them hidden from view.

After a minute, the detective answered. ‘Mr Ashford,’ he said, looking ruffled.

‘I was wondering if you’d seen my sister.’

‘No,’ said Carlton, ‘and I have some very important calls to make.’

‘I’m worried about her, Detective,’ said Miles quickly. ‘And I’ve just found something up at the house I need to show you. I think it might be important.’

Carlton looked dubious, but he nodded. ‘OK, but make it quick,’ he said, wiping the rain from his forehead.

He stepped outside on to the path and Miles led him to just a few feet from the line of trees. Philip jumped forward, pointing the gun at him, but Carlton was a professional; he ducked and spun around, slipping his hand into his jacket pocket as he turned. Miles, who was standing right next to him, slammed his fist into the man’s ear. It was a pathetic punch, but enough to make Carlton stumble. Carlton threw a punch which landed squarely on Miles’ jaw, but the scuffle had given Philip enough time to push the muzzle of the gun against Carlton’s temple.

‘Fucking hell, Phil.’ Alex whistled.

Phil grunted. ‘I’m glad two years at Sandhurst came to some use.’

They marched the fake detective back into the house.

‘Any more of your little friends on the island?’ asked Miles, regaining his bluster.

Carlton shook his head as Alex removed his gun from his pocket and bound his wrists with a length of washing line he had found in the kitchen.

‘Miles, you watch him. Alex, help me look for Sasha.’

At the back of the kitchen was a washroom. Alex flung open the door and saw Sasha, slumped on the floor.

‘Phil!’ he shouted.