The pier stretched before Jordan like a ghost ship, abandoned and silent under the dim glow of flickering lamps. The only sound came from the gentle lapping of waves against the wooden pillars beneath, a rhythmic mockery of his racing heartbeat. The cool mist from the ocean clung to his skin as he scanned the deserted area.
Empty. The boy wasn't here.
"Damn it," Jordan muttered, turning in a slow circle, his eyes searching the shadows for any sign of movement. The meeting spot Roberto had described was unmistakable—the third dock with the blue shipping container—but there was no sign of Miguel or Roberto's sister.
He checked his watch: 11:17 PM. The boat wasn't due for another forty-three minutes, but the boy should have been here by now if he'd followed Roberto's directions.
Jordan pu
