CHAPTER FIFTEEN
9:37 p.m.
Deale, Maryland
The surface of the water was shrouded in fog.
Luke pulled up quietly to the boat dock. He had put Becca and Gunner to bed, given them both a mild sedative, and piloted his Boston Whaler across Chesapeake Bay from the Eastern shore.
It was full dark now, perfect cover for the meeting he had planned. Two men stood on the dock. The area was deserted. In the small harbor, moored boats bobbed up and down in the gentle swells. Luke killed the engine, tied up, then jumped out to greet the men.
“Guys, thanks for coming out here.”
“Okay, Luke,” Mark Swann said.
“How are you doing, man?” Ed Newsam said.
Luke nodded. “I’ve been better. I thought I lost my wife and kid a few hours ago.”
The three men stood on the dock. The fog had a damping effect. T
