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  While Gia was still determined to marry Raphael, it at least bought Kat a little time. She headed to her stateroom, anxious to continue her research on the Catalyst and determine how exactly it came to be called The Financier.

  23

  Kat had just a few minutes before they disembarked on Valdes Island, but it was long enough to power up her laptop and hope for a restored Internet connection. She typed Anne Bukowski’s name into her browser’s search field and clicked on the top result.

  This time her connection was good and she was able to search several entries. There was nothing on Anne Bukowski, but there was a tragic story about a family named Bukowski several months ago. Their fatal boating accident had been front-page news, and she vaguely remembered hearing about it. She scanned the article to refresh her memory.

  The story was dated July 1st, almost two months ago. The Bukowski family’s partially burnt boat was discovered by a fishing trawler, abandoned and adrift in the Georgia Strait, halfway between Vancouver and Victoria. There was no sign of the family of three aboard the partially burnt boat, and they were presumed lost at sea. Frank, Melinda, and four-year-old daughter Emily had been en route to a new home in Victoria. A sad story, but one unrelated to Anne Bukowski. The family tragedy got her no closer to the wallet’s owner.

  The Bukowski name was nothing more than a coincidence.

  Or was it? What were the odds of a missing family and a missing wallet with the same surname? That wallet belonged to someone, and Anne and Melinda could possibly be related. She clicked through the remaining articles on the marine accident and froze when she read the third article.

  Anne Bukowski’s full legal name was Anne Melinda Bukowski, though she preferred her middle name, Melinda. How had the missing woman’s wallet ended up on board Raphael’s yacht? Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good. At the very least, the wallet was an important piece of evidence. Raphael should have turned it over to the authorities. It could pinpoint the location of the missing family.

  Anne Melinda’s wallet had resurfaced, yet she and her family had vanished without a trace. What were the odds of her being without her wallet when she disappeared? Less than zero, since they were in the midst of moving from Vancouver to their new home in Victoria. A shiver ran down Kat’s spine.

  She pulled the worn leather wallet from her nightstand and studied it. The wallet was old, but both the wallet exterior and contents appeared undamaged by water or fire. How had it come to be on Raphael’s yacht?

  She opened the next article and was rewarded with a picture. The photograph showed an attractive thirty-something brunette with shoulder-length hair and brown eyes. She held a baby girl in her arms, probably Emily from a few years earlier. The woman smiled into the camera, but her resigned eyes betrayed her. Clearly she was trying to be happy but wasn’t.

  She had to do something about the wallet. She couldn’t return it to Gia and Raphael’s stateroom even if she wanted to. Gia had already seen her with the wallet in her stateroom, and she had lied about where she had found it. Gia would be furious if she admitted to snooping in her stateroom. Kat had accused Raphael of thievery; now she appeared dishonest herself.

  She had to keep her discovery from Gia for the moment, since her confession would likely be shared with Raphael. There was no good reason for the wallet to be in Raphael’s possession but plenty of sinister ones. She would turn the wallet over to the police when they returned to Vancouver tomorrow.

  She shifted gears and looked for more information on the yacht. She checked her watch and realized that she should have used the time to call Majestic Yachts. She made a note to call once they returned from the island, once she could be sure of a few moments alone. Jace could walk in at any moment, and he would be angry about her fact-checking. In the meantime she would glean as much information as she could. She clicked on the first search result and found that her suspicions were correct.

  The Catalyst had been stolen two months earlier from the Friday Harbor marina in the San Juan Islands, Washington State. The San Juan Islands were less than an hour away by sea. All she had to do was prove that Catalyst was really The Financier. She could finally expose Raphael in a lie.

  Her pulse quickened as she reread the article on the Catalyst. The yacht had been moored in Friday Harbor by a wealthy family who hadn’t used it since relocating to the east coast several months earlier. Since Catalyst was listed for sale, there was no crew onboard. Anyone spending a few days in the Friday Harbor marina would have quickly noticed it was unoccupied. That made it easy to steal without attracting too much attention.

  With the information from Pete and her search results, it was safe to assume the Catalyst and The Financier were one and the same. It also explained the yacht’s motley and sparse crew and Pete’s reluctance to answer personal questions.

  Raphael wouldn’t have risked hiring professional sailors. They would be difficult to find on short notice, and they would likely report the stolen yacht. They would almost certainly refuse to work onboard.

  The stateroom door opened and Jace stepped in.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “They’re waiting for us on deck.” Jace’s dark mood from earlier had passed. He walked over and kissed her.

  Gia had stood her ground and stuck to the afternoon wedding. Finally some good news.

  “Come see this first.” She handed her laptop to Jace so he could see the screen. She had the yacht manufacturer’s website open. On it were two dozen pictures of the yacht, showing all angles of the yacht’s exterior and most of the interior rooms.

  “That’s nice.” He glanced at the screen and placed her laptop on the bureau. “Grab your stuff or we’ll be late.”

  “No, Jace. Look more closely.” She clicked on their stateroom. “Recognize this room? It’s got the same furniture and bedspread as our stateroom.”

  “There’s bound to be identical ships around.”

  “No, there isn’t. This yacht was custom-made.” She tapped on the description. “Everything from the wood used to the configuration of each stateroom was made to order.”

  “So what?”

  “This yacht is stolen, and I think I can prove it.” She navigated to the Canadian government registry site. “See those call numbers? When I enter the registration number on the site, nothing comes up. That’s because this yacht isn’t Canadian.”

  He looked at her blankly.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but this yacht isn’t Italian either. Neither is Raphael. I can’t prove he’s lying about his identity yet, but there is one thing I can prove.” She punched the registration numbers into the Washington State website and showed them to Jace. “This yacht is American. The Financier’s call numbers belong to another yacht, the Catalyst.”

  Jace frowned as he studied the screen. “You sure you entered the numbers right?”

  She nodded. “I’ve double and triple-checked.” She described the ghost shadows under the yacht’s name and the crooked e. “If, I’m right, then this yacht is stolen.”

  “And Raphael isn’t the billionaire tycoon he claims to be.” Jace was skeptical. “There’s got to be a logical explanation. You’re reading too much into things.”

  “About a stolen yacht? I don’t think so.”

  A flicker of doubt passed over Jace’s face as he peered at the screen. “You sure they don’t build any two ships the same?”

  Kat nodded. “Even if they did, the interior design would be different, since that’s chosen to suit the owner. Look at the artwork on the walls.” She pulled up the dining room picture and zoomed in on the artwork above the sideboard. “That’s identical to the print onboard this ship. The paintings in our stateroom are exactly the same, too.”

  Jace walked over to the painting above the bed and traced his finger over the brushstrokes. “This is an original oil painting. One-of-a-kind. There’s got to be a logical explanation.”

  “The logic says that it’s stolen. Look.” She enlarged the photograph of their s
uite and focused on the limited edition Salvador Dali print that hung above the bureau. “The Dali print is number three of 120. What does ours say?”

  “Three of 120. Maybe it’s a fake. Who would steal a yacht? Isn’t that kind of obvious?”

  “Not really. As long as he stays away from where the ship was stolen, who’s going to recognize it? No one’s going to check the vessel registration. There’s more.” She told him about the wallet and the Bukowski family disappearance. “We’ve got to stop him, Jace. Before it’s too late.”

  24

  Raphael entered his stateroom and stopped cold at Gia’s expression. One look and he knew he was in trouble.

  Gia’s eyes narrowed as she waved an envelope. “Tell me why you have plane tickets to Costa Rica. They’re dated tomorrow, and one is in another woman’s name.”

  Raphael waved her away. “Relax, bellissima. It’s not what you think.”

  “Don’t give me that crap. Who the hell is Maria, and why are you two flying first-class to Costa Rica?” Gia crossed her arms and glared at him. “I thought we were sailing there.”

  Raphael just shrugged and smiled. “My assistant got your name wrong. I’ll get her to fix it.”

  “Nice try. How the hell do you get Maria out of Gia?”

  “Static on the phone, I guess. We had a bad connection.” Raphael fidgeted with his fingernails and avoided her gaze. Something or someone had triggered Gia’s response, he was sure of it. For the first time there was doubt in her voice. He had to speed up his plans.

  “How could you not notice? Those tickets are for a flight tomorrow, yet you said we’re sailing there. Something doesn’t add up.”

  “Plans change, bellissima. My business contacts postponed a few meetings, so I’ve got more time. Now we can sail on the yacht instead of flying.” He stroked her hair.

  She pushed him away. “You adapt to their plans, but not mine. Why should I close down my business and leave my whole life behind with a couple days’ notice?”

  Raphael shrugged. “It happened quickly. We can’t ignore business opportunities.”

  “We seem to be ignoring mine.” Gia frowned as she studied the ticket. “This ticket was booked a month ago. That’s before we even met. Don’t lie to me, Raphael. You planned to take someone else, didn’t you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then tell me why you’re flying first class with a woman named Maria.” Gia’s eyes narrowed. “You keep changing your story. I don’t like being lied to, so don’t hold me responsible for what happens next if I find out you’re lying to me.”

  Brother XII had it right, Raphael thought as he faced an irate Gia. The man had convinced thousands of followers to move to his stupid little island and hand over all their worldly possessions, and still he escaped scot-free. The Brother could probably give him a lesson or two on how to pull off a scam.

  Unfortunately it was too late for that.

  Brother XII had cut his losses and run when people asked too many questions. But unlike Brother XII, Raphael couldn’t just burn down buildings and escape without a trace. The very people he was running from were aboard his ship.

  Gia’s sudden distrust stemmed from something or someone.

  Kat.

  He had invited Gia’s friends aboard as potential investors, but that backfired when Kat started asking too many questions. If Gia was suspicious, no doubt they all were. He had to get rid of them, and soon. Things were spiraling out of control. If he didn’t act soon he might lose everything.

  His pulse raced. Was his passport in the envelope with the tickets? A simple mistake that could cost him everything. He couldn’t remember.

  “Bellissima, I—” His voice caught in his throat.

  “Don’t play games with me, Raphael.” Gia tapped the envelope. “Who is she?”

  “Maria is a former employee, the sales manager for Latin America. She quit a week ago. That’s another reason I decided to sail instead of fly. I just forgot to cancel the tickets.” He held out his hand for the envelope. “Give that to me. I’ll get everything straightened out.”

  Gia hesitated before handing it over. “You better not be lying to me.”

  “Of course not, bellissima.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “Now get your stuff together for our hike.”

  Gia broke from his embrace and obediently stuffed her pack.

  If only Gia hadn’t found the tickets. He hated messy endings.

  25

  Kat sat on deck at the outside bar with Jace and Uncle Harry. Gia and Raphael were late again. Uncle Harry was antsy, anxious to go ashore. He fiddled with the remote and scrolled through the channels until the television above the bar displayed the all-news channel.

  They waited for the couple and hoped their plans hadn’t changed yet again. The Valdes Island tunnel trek was all Kat had left to look forward to. For a few hours at least, she could keep Raphael in her sights and prevent him from stealing any more from her shipmates. And delay the wedding that was certain to ruin Gia’s life.

  She half-listened to the news anchor as she rearranged the contents of her pack. This time she had packed all the essentials, including a flashlight and first aid kit. Her knee and ankle felt much better after a good night’s rest. Some of the swelling had even gone down.

  She tightened her shoelaces as the newscast cycled through the morning’s top stories. Her ears perked up as the anchor mentioned new developments in the Bukowski disappearance. The name caught her by surprise, as she figured the family’s accident was old news.

  She jerked her head up to the TV screen. The camera panned across the water to a marina, where the remains of a burnt out boat was being towed.

  The screen flashed to a news anchor who commented on the old news footage before he introduced the latest development. The screen flashed to a reporter on scene. He stood on the same dock as the earlier footage. This time there was no boat wreckage behind him. He pointed to the waters behind him as he described breaking news in the Bukowski disappearance.

  Emily Bukowski’s partially decomposed body was found today off the coast of Vancouver Island. The 4-year-old girl’s body was discovered by a commercial fishing boat. The little girl had been missing for almost two months, along with her parents, Melinda and Frank Bukowski. No trace of her parents has been found to date. The Coast Guard continues to search in the area where the burnt out wreckage of their boat was discovered.

  The RCMP consider the deaths suspicious. According to Melinda Bukowski’s coworkers, she had recently quit her job after her husband, Frank Bukowski, accepted a teaching position in Victoria. Police checked all Victoria schools but were unable to locate the school that had hired Mr. Bukowski.

  Kat shuddered at the thought of the little girl’s body turning up in a fishing net. The television screen cycled through photographs of the Bukowski family. Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Jace, come here!”

  Jace was busy loading his gear into the dinghy. “In a sec, I’m busy right now.”

  “But that’s him! He’s on TV.” Kat jumped up from her seat.

  “Who’s on TV?” Jace’s irritated expression changed to recognition. “What the hell is—”Uncle Harry noticed too. “Wow, the guy’s a dead ringer for Raphael.”

  “No, Uncle Harry. That is him. Frank Bukowski and Raphael are one and the same.”

  Uncle Harry shook his head. “Nah, that’s just not possible.”

  “I wish it wasn’t.” She had been certain Raphael was a thief, but the realization that he might also be a murderer made her blood run cold. “Whatever happens, don’t let on that you know, okay?”

  Uncle Harry nodded, though he remained unconvinced. “It’s gotta be a mistake. The guy on TV is his twin brother or something. What’s that called again?” He answered his own question. “A doppelganger.”

  “I doubt it, Uncle Harry.” Her uncle didn’t know about the wallet, but this wasn’t the time or place to tell him. Melinda Anne’s wallet had even greater
significance now. Whatever had happened to little Emily appeared all the more sinister with the missing woman’s wallet onboard.

  Kat’s handling of the wallet might have destroyed fingerprints and other critical evidence. She’d first move it to somewhere more secure than her nightstand drawer and then contact the police.

  “I wonder what it’s like to run into someone that looks exactly like you. It’s like having an identical twin or something.”

  “I doubt that’s the case, Uncle Harry.”

  “There’s got to be an explanation.” Uncle Harry scratched his bald head. “Can’t we just ask Raphael?”

  Jace stood transfixed at the TV screen as realization dawned on him, too. He started to speak just as Raphael suddenly appeared behind him.

  “Ask me what?” Raphael was alone. His mouth opened into a smile but his eyes were cold.

  Kat’s heart thumped in her chest.

  “Uh…you sure you’re ready to get married?” Uncle Harry smiled. “Think before you leap.”

  Raphael laughed. “Of course I’m ready. I’m counting the hours. In fact, we’ve changed our minds again. We want the ceremony this morning. Can you do that, Harry?”

  “I-I don’t know.” A sheen of sweat broke out on Uncle Harry’s forehead as he stole a glance at Kat.

  “Of course he can.” Kat kept her tone casual, not wanting to raise alarm. They couldn’t delay the wedding anymore without arousing suspicion.

  “Good. You can marry us just as soon as Gia gets here. We’ll go to Valdes right after the ceremony. We’ll celebrate later when we return.”

  “I’ll go help Gia,” Kat said.

  “No need. She’ll be here in a couple of minutes.” Raphael’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the television. “Turn that thing off.”

  Kat broke into a sweat. Raphael had overheard at least part of their conversation. Had he seen the news story? If he suspected anything, they were in grave danger.