-20-

"So, what do we do with all the extra supplies we brought?" Chet asked anxiously as he leaned against the rails of the boat as it chugged along down a narrow channel.

"We will offload them from the boat. Hide them as best we can." Frank said quietly. His gaze focused on the channel ahead. It allowed for not much more than their boat could manage. "The way this waterway has gotten, we will be getting off soon I expect."

"That's a fact." Joe spoke up. "But we didn't have many options for boats, so not sure it could be helped." He looked over at his stout chum, who wrung his hands nervously. Chet's face looked besieged by anxiety and lack of sleep. The strain was showing. "It's going to be ok, Chet. We are going to find Callie and take care of this guy."

Chet looked over at his friend nervously. Under most any other situation he might have felt more confident. But the personal toll that this was taking on him made him second guess himself. "I hope you're right, Joe." Chet said fretfully as he looked down at the water. "But the idea that we are walking right in the front door with a probable invitation makes me a little doubtful."

"Then we better not walk in the front door." Frank said, his eyes set on the heavy jungle foliage along the banks for the narrow passage. He pointed. "We should be able to drop ourselves along any area ahead of time. We just have the captain keep going down the river. That way, any spies may just keep their focus on the boat as long as possible. We can travel inland in search of this stone fortress."

Chet rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess that might help. Would be nice to know where this place is exactly so that we can plan a bit better."

Joe shot him a half smile. "Should have offered Renaldo a couple grand. He might have given you the latitude and longitude. I'm sure he probably knows the exact location."

"Yeah, right." Chet grunted and looked over his friend's shoulder to see Marcos approaching. He nodded to his guide. "Hey, Marcos. Do we have an ETA on when we will be at the ideal location to get off?"

Marcos nodded affirmatively. "Si, Senhor Chet. Agosto say about another 2 hours will bring us to the lago, I mean lake. First, we travel along the parana arara to get there."

"Piranha?" Chet repeated nervously.

"Marcos shook his head. "No, Senhor Chet. Parana is spelled differently. This means the name of this winding river we are on right now. We must travel along it to reach the lake."

"Whew!" Chet sighed audibly. "You had me worried! I thought that there were man eating piranha in this river!"

Marco's eyes shifted from Chet to the water. "Oh, there are piranha in these waters, Senhor. I would not recommend you go swimming here." He cautioned with a wink to the Hardys.

Chet's eyes darted into the water as Joe leaned over the rail and looked down with a smile. "Yeah, Chet. You didn't realize the water is full of them. Just stick your arm in and see how fast it gets chewed to the bone."

At this statement Marcos let out a loud chuckle. He put his hand on Chet's shoulders. His stout employer had a look of sheer terror on his face. "Relax, Senhor Chet. Piranha do travel through these waters, but mostly to be found near the falls and more active current. You have little to fear from them here."

"But do watch out for the anacondas." Frank spoke up with a grin. "They get to be fifty or sixty foot here, I'm sure."

Chet's eyes shifted again towards the water. Marcos rubbed his forehead and again laughed. He again rested his hand on Chet's shoulder. "Please, senhor Chet. There are no giant anacondas here. You stand a much better chance of finding Jennifer Lopez sunbathing here than you would of a giant man eating snake."

Chet sighed and then looked at his two chums. "Thanks for the assurances, guys. Not like I don't have enough to worry about."

Frank stepped forward and put an arm around his chum. "Sorry, pal. Just trying to keep things light." He looked over to their guide. "Where is Antonio? Don't think I've seen him for a bit."

"He is asleep." Marcos said looking down at his watch. "I think he wants to be well rested for when we do have to start through the jungle. It will be slow going I'm afraid."

"Slow going now." Chet muttered in dissatisfaction, leaning against the rail as their boat chugged along at a leisurely pace.

"This isn't a speedboat, pal." Frank reminded him.

"And this channel of water isn't all that wide." Joe added with a gesture towards the narrow body of water than snaked along inside of the dense rainforest.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Chet admitted. "I just know that every minute counts. We need to get to Callie!"

Fenton Hardy settled into his seat, stretching back with a quiet sigh of relief. He was grateful he'd chosen business class for the flight to São Paulo. The small privacy partition allowed him some much-needed space to think and strategize. Still, he couldn't shake his frustration with the delays. He'd had to take a flight to São Paulo just to catch a connecting flight to Manaus.

His private plane was more than capable of overseas travel, but he'd given his pilot, Jack, some time off after a demanding mission. Fenton knew Jack would've dropped everything to get him to Brazil, especially given the personal nature of this mission. Jack considered the Hardy family his second family, but Fenton didn't want to pull him away from his own wife and kids any longer than necessary. It didn't feel right to further delay Jack's much-needed rest.

Fenton had been unable to track Frank's phone for more than a day, and while it was concerning, he reminded himself not to panic. The Brazilian rainforest wasn't exactly known for its abundance of cell towers, and it was likely that many areas rendered such technology useless. He sighed, recalling the days when a reliable shortwave radio was standard issue for missions like these. But he knew his sons and their group would need to be traveling light, relying on minimal gear to move swiftly.

Although Fenton understood that staying composed was crucial when managing an investigation, he couldn't shake his concern. The thought of his sons, Chet, Callie, and the girls, potentially stranded in a foreign country and possibly at the mercy of Reese and a dangerous assassin like Lila St. Clair, weighed heavily on his mind.

The narrow river twisted through the thick jungle, its dark waters reflecting the dense canopy above. The boat moved slowly, its motor humming as Agosto guided them deeper into the wilderness. The atmosphere was oppressive, the weight of the rainforest pressing in from all sides.

Maddie and Jaime had been sitting together at one of the deck tables. It wasn't just the jungle making Maddie feel boxed in—it was everything. The past. The uncertainty of what lay ahead. And the presence of Jaime at her side, an anchor and a reminder all at once.

Jaime sat close, their shoulders touching as she traced invisible patterns on Maddie's wrist. A familiar, grounding touch, but Maddie could feel the unspoken weight behind it. They hadn't talked about it much—not out loud—but she knew Jaime wanted more. A return to something Maddie wasn't sure she was ready for, at least not yet. Not during this situation. She couldn't focus and give that her full attention. Nonetheless, the warmth of Jaime's fingers on her skin sent a shiver up Maddie's spine, a mix of comfort and pressure, of longing and hesitation.

Chet stood near the boat's railing, gripping it tightly. He stole glances at Maddie and Jaime, his face unreadable. He had never confronted it, never brought it up outright, but Maddie could feel it—his reluctance to acknowledge their relationship. There was too much else to focus on, too many dangers ahead, but it was there, hovering just under the surface. Another layer of tension. Chet had no real issues with Jaime or the budding relationship they shared. Even if the progression of the relationship hadn't started at a traditional and innocent point or origin.

Joe and Frank were up front, speaking in low voices. Their discussion about the ever narrowing channel, water levels and the boat's condition was interrupted when a sudden scraping noise echoed through the hull. The boat lurched, knocking Maddie against Jaime's shoulder.

Agosto cursed in Portuguese, immediately cutting the engine. "We hit something. Sandbar, maybe. I need to check." He said in broken English.

Chet was already moving, his anxiety turning into action as he helped Agosto examine the damage. Frank and Joe exchanged wary glances before joining them, leaving Maddie and Jaime momentarily alone.

Jaime turned, brushing a lock of damp hair from Maddie's face. "You okay?"

Maddie swallowed, nodding. "Yeah."

Jaime's eyes lingered on her, searching. "You don't have to hold everything in, you know. Not with me."

"I know." Maddie wanted to say more, wanted to let Jaime in, but the words caught in her throat. The past still tangled around them, and the weight of what was coming pressed down harder than ever.

A rustling sound from the jungle made them both tense. For a moment, all was still. Then, a soft, deliberate laugh drifted from the trees.

Maddie's breath hitched. It was distant, but unmistakable and feminine in tone.

Was this Lila St. Clair… the woman assassin they had heard about was playing with them... or was it just an animal?

A tense silence followed the laughter, thick and suffocating as the jungle itself. The rustling in the trees ceased, as if whatever—or whoever—was out there wanted them to know they were being watched, but not by whom.

Jaime's grip on Maddie's wrist tightened slightly. "She's out there," she whispered. "She's playing with us."

Maddie nodded, her stomach knotting. "Lila…yeah…maybe."

Joe and Frank had both heard it, their hands now resting near their weapons. Marcos and Antonio exchanged glances, their relaxed demeanor shifting into something more guarded.

Chet turned from the damaged hull, his face set in grim determination. "We're not staying here. We need to move."

Agosto shook his head. "Motor won't work like this. We either fix it fast or you go on foot."

Frank ran a hand through his hair, his usual sharp mind calculating their odds. The idea that Lila St. Clair could very well be within a stone throw from them was most disconcerting. "If we disembark, we're sitting ducks. She's toying with us now, but that won't last."

Another rustle. This time, it came from the opposite side of the river. A deliberate taunt.

Antonio gritted his teeth. "She's not alone, senhors."

Marcos nodded, unslinging his rifle and scanning the treeline. "We need to be smart. They want us afraid."

Maddie already was. But she wasn't about to let Lila St. Clair win. She and Jaime both stood up and looked about.

A low whistle cut through the air, unnatural in the eerie quiet. A signal.

And then, from the depths of the trees, something landed with a wet slap onto the boat's deck.

A single, bloodstained doll.

The doll landed between them with a sickening, wet slap. Its limbs sprawled unnaturally, its fabric body damp with something dark, something Maddie already knew wasn't just water.

A slow, creeping feeling curled in her stomach as she stared at it. The doll's face was smudged, its button eyes loose in their stitching. It looked old, used, discarded. But the worst part—the part that sent an icy shudder down Maddie's spine—was the small, yellowed slip of paper tucked into its tiny hands.

Jaime reached for it first, fingers trembling as she pried it free. She unfolded it slowly, her breath hitching.

"Little girls should always have dolls to play with. This doll's name is Callie."

Jaime's face drained of color. Maddie felt her whole body go rigid, a visceral, gut-wrenching reaction to the words.

Chet snatched the note from Jaime's hands, his own expression darkening as he read it. His fingers curled around the paper, crumpling it in his fist.

"That sick bitch…"

A gunshot cracked through the jungle.

Everyone ducked instinctively. The shot wasn't aimed at them—it had hit the water, sending a sharp spray into the air, a warning.

Another soft laugh drifted from the trees. This time, it was unmistakably human and definitely female.

The sound slithered over Maddie's skin like something tangible, something taunting.

Joe was already moving, gun drawn, scanning the trees. "We need to move. Now."

Agosto, still crouched near the boat's damaged hull, wiped sweat from his forehead. "Motor's useless. We go on foot, or we die here."

Frank gritted his teeth, gripping his pistol. "She's controlling the game. And at the moment she has the upper hand."

Maddie swallowed hard, her heartbeat pounding against her chest.

Jaime grabbed her hand. "We need to do something. I'm scared!"

Another gunshot rang out, closer this time. More rustling. Shadows shifting in the trees.

Lila wasn't just toying with them.

She was hunting.

The silence after the second gunshot stretched too long, thick as the humid air pressing in from all sides. Maddie's pulse throbbed in her ears, her grip tightening around Jaime's hand as she tried to steady herself.

Chet turned to the group, his voice low but firm. "We move now. We can't stay here."

Marcos, his jaw clenched, scanned the jungle with sharp, calculating eyes. "She's not alone," he murmured in Portuguese to Antonio, who gave a slow, knowing nod.

"She wants us to run," Antonio said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To make a mistake."

Another rustle in the trees. Then—something new. A whisper. Low and drawn out, slithering through the air like a hiss of breath against their ears.

"Maaaadddieee…"

Maddie froze. Her stomach turned, her vision swimming as her name drifted from the trees in a singsong lilt.

Jaime stiffened beside her, her free hand grasping upon her small bag that held the pistol Maddie had given her. "She knows your name."

Of course she did. Lila had been waiting for them. Watching.

Chet's face twisted with fury. "We're not playing this game."

But it was never their choice. Not at present anyway.

The doll still lay on the boat floor, staring up at them with its stitched smile. Maddie forced herself to look at it again. The paper was still crumpled in Chet's grip, but the words burned in her mind.

Little girls should always have dolls to play with. This doll's name is Callie.

The message wasn't just a taunt—it suggested that her mother was…dead…or badly injured.

A soft rustle came from the edge of the riverbank, and Maddie's breath caught as she saw it—more dolls. Hanging from the trees. Their small, limp bodies swayed gently, suspended by vines looped around their necks.

Jaime let out a quiet curse. "She's sick."

Antonio murmured something in Portuguese that Maddie didn't understand, but Marcos responded in a sharper tone, his voice tense.

"What did he say?" Frank demanded.

Marcos turned to him, face grim. "He said Lila is marking the path. This is a warning." He hesitated. "Or an invitation."

Agosto, who had been standing rigid and silent since the first shot, suddenly took a step back. "No." He shook his head, wiping sweat from his face. "I go no further."

Chet turned on him, disbelief flashing across his face. "What?"

Agosto's eyes darted to the dolls, to the jungle, to the unknown. "I knew you were chasing a devil, but this…" He gestured wildly toward the trees. "This is her game. I do not play."

Antonio frowned, stepping forward. "Agosto—"

"No!" Agosto cut him off, his voice sharp with fear. "You want to chase the devil? Go. But I will not follow."

He moved toward the damaged boat, already making his retreat.

"Where the hell are you going?" Joe snapped.

"Back." Agosto didn't look at any of them. "I will find another way home. You go deeper, you die."

His words hung in the air like a curse. The old Brazilian had no doubt spent his life in the rain forest and knowing that the group was after a violent criminal didn't help.

Maddie's throat felt tight. She wanted to call him a coward, wanted to believe he was wrong—but deep down, she knew he might be the only one making the right choice.

Chet let out a frustrated breath, shaking his head. "Fine. I understand. We only hired you to pilot a boat and not take risks with your life."

Agosto wasted no time. He grabbed a rucksack and looked at them "I send help." He then turned to Antonio and Marcos and spoke Portuguese, then turned and disappeared into the trees, his movements swift and desperate, a man escaping something he knew better than to challenge.

Chet looked over to their guides. "What did he say?"

Marcos looked back. "Go with God." Chet looked over at his daughter and her best friend. The gravity of the situation had come full force and quickly upon him. The exact reason that he did not want her anywhere near this situation. Much less in the same country as the man they were pursuing.

The group stood in silence, listening to the jungle swallow him whole.

And then—another laugh.

This one was different. Amused. Pleased.

Lila had seen.

She knew she had already won something.

Jaime exhaled shakily. "She knew that would happen."

Marcos readjusted the rifle slung over his shoulder, his expression dark. "She's hunting us. We either move, or we become prey."

Another whisper. This time, closer.

"Run, little girls."

Maddie's heart slammed against her ribs.

Chet gritted his teeth. "We move. Now."

And so they did—they grabbed their backpacks and supplies to the extent of what they could carry and disembarked. plunging into the jungle, knowing full well they weren't alone.

Knowing the game had only just begun.