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I grab her hand and drag her into the bridge. Drake is at the helm, manning the radio and electronics. Having already heard our argument, he wisely keeps his eyes on the horizon as I go to the safe installed along the back wall.

Opening the door, I grab a manila envelope and press it against her chest.

“Careful what you ask for.” My voice is cold as arctic steel. “This could have easily been you.”

Had it not been for me.

The unspoken words drift in my mind like toxic fog as I turn my back on her and walk away.

CHAPTER 29

ISA

The silence in Elio’s wake is deafening. I’m embarrassed about losing my temper, even more so now that I know we had an inadvertent witness. I take a fleeting glance at Drake, then step back into the sky lounge, closing the bridge door behind me.

Time to have a look at the contents of the envelope. I’m certain I’m not going to like it.

I undo the clasp, then pull out a small stack of papers. The first is a copy of a police report. Behind it are photos. A woman beaten so badly she’s almost unrecognizable.

Revulsion and horror clench my eyes shut as my stomach roils.

What kind of monster could do such a thing? Elio seems to think it was Mazzi, but I can’t see it. Sure, he was full of himself, but this type of violence is deranged.

I force myself to look at the documents. If only in honor of this poor woman, I have to face the ugly truth.

The report states that the perpetrator was unknown. My trembling fingers flip past the crime scene photos until I get to three other pictures taken of the woman when she was still alive. She’s in different clothing, but the hair and build are the same.

She’s with Mazzi in all three. Beautiful and smiling.

She has her arm in his, as though they were on a date. Had she been seeing him for long? Did she have any idea of the horrific danger she was in?

I have to take a slow, deep inhale to settle my revolting stomach.

Elio is right. The woman in these pictures could have been me.

Tears blur my vision.

What a tragic, wasteful loss of a life. I want to tell her how eternally sorry I am. Sorry that things like this happen in our world. Sorry that no one stopped it.

I wipe at my eyes and wonder why Elio has these pictures and how he got them. The crime scene photos are easy enough to explain, but what about the others? They look like stills taken from a video. Security cameras, maybe? But did he look for the woman after her death, or was he already following Mazzi’s actions before she was killed?

What was his interest in Mazzi?

It seems absurd to think he investigated the guy solely because of the wedding—because Mazzi was marrying me. Could this entire charade be motivated by a need to protect me?

It’s possible, but again, why?

Maybe he wished there’d been more.

Why didn’t he ever say anything? Why didn’t he come back?

I have no idea, but it’s all enough to make me feel horrible about lashing out. I didn’t mean what I said about wishing I was with Mazzi. I’ve just been so frustrated and worried about the women and children I help. People who often end up in situations like the one the woman in the photo is in.

If you’re so worried, let him see your emails.

That choice comes with risk. I could further endanger the people I’m trying to help if information falls into the wrong hands. Out here, I have no idea who is safe, and who isn’t. Elio may not hurt me, but he and his men are criminals. What does that entail? Boats are often used in trafficking. I absolutely hate to think he could be involved in anything so grotesque, but I simply don’t know.

The oppressive weight of it all fills my limbs with liquid lead.