They met the edge of the island foliage and Alonzo spread out a blanket. Once she was settled, he went back to the slip to retrieve a small ice chest and brought it to her side. “Here.” He opened what looked like an electrolyte drink and handed it to her.

She sipped and winced. “Salty.”

“You’re probably dehydrated. This should help.”

“You’re so thoughtful. I’m not normally like this.”

He brushed off her concern with a wink and walked away. After an exchange of words with his crew, the other men left the two of them alone on the shore.

“How big is this island?” she asked once Alonzo returned.

“About two miles across, I think.”

“How did you find it?”

Alonzo sat back on his elbows and stared at his departing men. “We were diverting around a storm a couple of years ago . . . before I met you.”

“You’ve been back since.”

He turned his attention on her. “Once or twice.”

“The captain seemed to know exactly where to anchor. I would think that reef would be difficult to maneuver.”

Gabi couldn’t see Alonzo’s eyes, but his smile waned.

“My captain is one of the best.” Alonzo’s words had an edge to them. As if she doubted him.

“I’m sure he is.”

Alonzo stood and reached for her. “Let’s take a walk.”

She finished her drink and slipped her sandals on.

The brush on the island swallowed them in a few feet. Because the island was small, Gabi didn’t worry about getting lost, and let Alonzo lead the way. The throbbing in her head made her wish for more of Alonzo’s medicine. Instead of asking for it, she let him lead away from the water’s edge.

“I think I found something.” Meg was on the phone with Rick the minute she learned of Michael’s late-night call and subsequent departure.

“God I hope so,” she told Rick.

“Heard of the name Steve Leger?”

“I can’t . . . no. No clue. Who is Steve Leger?”

“How about Stephan Léger?” Rick added an accent to the last name, but she still didn’t catch the name.

“I have nothing, Rick, who is Stephan Léger?”

Val was half listening to the conversation, his brow shot up in question. “Stephan? What about Stephan?”

Meg held up her hand. “Hold on, Rick. Seems that name means something to Val. I’m going to put you on speaker.” Once she was done, she set the phone in the middle of the table and suffered with the delay in the conversation.

“Tell me what you know,” Val said louder than his normal tone.

“You know the name Stephan Léger, who has another alias, Steve Leger.”

Val gripped the side of the table. “Why would the captain of my off-island charter need an alias?”

“That’s a good question. An even better one would be . . . what is the man’s real name? Steve Leger died from natural causes in a convalescent home in Milwaukee about twenty years ago. I took the liberty of doing social security checks on your more trusted employees. Stephan’s social belongs to a dead man.” Rick’s voice delayed with a buzz in the line. “I’m working on finding out who he really is. I’m going to have to twist some arms.”

“Pull Eliza and Carter’s strings,” Meg suggested.

“Blake has already done that. I have a few more I can tap into. We’ll get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, don’t clue Stephan in on anything.”

“I trusted Stephan.”

“Something tells me the man banked on that. Do you know what you pay him?”

Val shook his head. “Carol will have all that information.”

“Clear me for a call. I think his expense account is larger than his income, but I won’t know that until I have your numbers.”

Val already had his cell out of his pocket.

“You call Carol, I’m going to fill Rick in on what’s happened with Michael,” Meg told Val.

He offered a curt nod, lifted his cell to his ear, and walked away.

Meg took her phone off speaker and explained what had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

“I know your new boyfriend isn’t going to like this, but my gut says this Alonzo guy is just as sketchy as Stephan.”

Meg felt her chest tighten. “I know. I wish she wasn’t with the man right now. Val’s people are looking for her, but it’s a big ocean out there. Service isn’t available unless you’re close to a domestic shore.”

“Yeah.” Rick paused and then started to laugh.

“It’s not funny.”

“I just thought of something. Who do we know that understands shipping? If Alonzo is shipping his wine, that isn’t his wine, offshore, where is it going? Who is buying it, and why?”

Meg hesitated. “Blake.” Blake Harrison, the duke himself, owned and operated one of the largest shipping companies in the US and the UK.

“I’ll call him.”

“Before you do, call Karen and Zach. Michael wants his brother to know what’s going down. It sounds like Michael is coming out. At least with his parents. He’s going to need Zach’s support.”

Rick blew out a sigh. “OK. I’ll call.”

They talked a few minutes longer about the timeline for staying in Italy, and where they were going from there.

Even though Meg was more pensive than before the call, at least they were learning something.

Not a good something . . . but something.