“Okay. I haven’t heard a motor since we entered the channel.”
“No, I haven’t, either. The trouble is, they can explore all day looking for us. If we’re going to stop, we have to get completely out of sight again.”
Why say the obvious?
Because she hadn’t seen any possibilities, he assumed.
“We’d better not hang around here,” he said.
Claire bit her lip and nodded.
As her kayak shot away from his, he glanced up. Unless he was imagining things, the thin gray cloud cover had darkened. Could be good. Could be very bad. He of all people knew how horrible it was to be drenched and cold, without any way to dry off or get warm.
He thrust his paddle into the water and followed Claire.
To his surprise, she swung suddenly to the right, straight toward a stretch of shore that looked as unwelcoming as all the land had since they launched this morning.
For the first time, he had to skirt a patch of kelp. Strange stuff. The only kelp he’d seen was on beaches, dried or still slimy and stinking. In this quantity, it could be a field blooming with some strange flower.
On the back side of it, Claire must see something, because she kept going. And then he saw it, too: a tiny cove with a gravel beach of sorts. Drift logs were stacked at the back of the beach, the forest looming just beyond. Would it be possible to get over the pile of driftwood?
Claire nosed her kayak onto the gravel and climbed out to pull it higher. His ground to a stop, but he didn’t get out.
“I need to explore a little,” she said. “Wait here.”
Fine by him. Once the spasms in his shoulder relented, he’d stand up. Stretching would be good.
Claire tried to clamber over what appeared to be wet logs, gave up and walked as far left as she could go, then right. After a moment, he lost sight of her.
Adam climbed out of the cockpit so fast, he caught a foot and almost went down. Regaining his balance, he grabbed the forward carrying toggle and hoisted the kayak high enough he could be sure it wouldn’t be pulled away by a wave.
By the time he reached the end of the wall of driftwood, Claire popped back out.
“This should work. We’ll have to carry the kayaks farther than usual, but I found a flat spot above the high-tide line.”
He reached for her, lifted her off her feet and swung her in a circle. She laughed at him the entire time, until he set her down again, his hands still on her waist.
Adam went for light. “Saving me again.” His voice came out gritty, though, and she’d gone solemn, searching his eyes.
He didn’t know what she found, but her smile bloomed again.
Her hair had to be stiff with salt spray, her cheeks and nose glowed red, her lips were chapped and all he could think was how beautiful she was.
He was in deep trouble. Had been since that first day when she warmed him so generously with her own body. His cautious nature kept waiting for her to show herself as something less than the foolishly brave, thoughtful, compassionate woman he’d discovered so unexpectedly.
Wasn’t going to happen today.
And tomorrow...tomorrow they should make it out to Kildidt Sound, where there had to be other boat traffic.
Beyond that, he couldn’t see.
Chapter Fourteen
Late afternoon, Claire stiffened at the sound of an outboard motor.
Adam was already moving, pushing toward the driftwood logs where he could crouch to see through a gap to the small beach. Claire followed and knelt beside him.
“Won’t they ever give up?”
He shook his head. “I’m beginning to think they still have the on board. If the yacht owner is unwilling to chance setting up another meet, Dwayne must feel like he’s up a creek.”
“Without a paddle,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the gray water of the inlet. The brown mat of kelp, rooted on the seabed, bobbed on the rising and falling surface, pulled by the currents. In this backwater, in kayaks they could have cut through it, but Claire was glad they’d been able to find a way around.
“Yeah,” Adam agreed in response to her comment, which was almost a pun. But not a funny one. “Bad enough if Dwayne has to go back to Juneau and admit he wasn’t able to complete the job, but if he also admits there’s a possibility a witness got away, he’s a dead man, and he has to know it.”
Claire absorbed that. She’d assumed that Adam’s sense of urgency had to do with what would happen to the uranium once it reached Seattle, or whatever port at which the yacht had taken refuge. With all the days that had passed now, the door had probably closed to the possibility of keeping the uranium out of the hands of the buyers, whoever they were—unless it was still on the freighter. That would be better for US security, not so good for her and Adam.
“So they never will stop.”
His head turned and his eyes met hers. “You didn’t ask for any of this. Maybe I should have told you to leave me once I was back on my feet and had the kayak.”
“And maybe they’d have shot me if our paths had crossed.”
“Your kayak isn’t red.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his mouth tight. “I don’t know. There was no good reason for Dwayne to shoot your friend.”
She only nodded. Both of them went back to the too-familiar need to watch for their enemy. With the sound of the motor growing louder, Adam lifted the binoculars to his eyes.
Almost immediately, he growled an obscenity. “They’re across the inlet from us.” He handed over the binoculars.
She had to adjust them, but not by much. The inflatable boat came into sharp focus. She’d gotten to hate the sight of it.
“They’re searching the shore. How can they possibly know we turned in here and didn’t go on through the channel?”
“They don’t,” he said flatly. “They’re being thorough. They know they’re faster than we are, and don’t want to chance missing us.”
She made a small sound that might have been a moan. Adam’s big hand gripped her forearm and squeezed.
Claire took a deep breath before she asked, “What do we do if they turn in here on their way back?”
He kept staring, she suspected unseeingly, out at the restless water. The inflatable boat had disappeared from their limited view, although they could still hear it.
Then he said the words she’d dreaded. “Ambush them.”
* * *
NO, HE DIDN’T love the idea of killing Boyden, especially, or even Curt Gibbons. Neither was the sharpest knife in the drawer, and he felt sure they didn’t know about that extra cargo. But it was obvious they’d been willing to murder a complete stranger because he was in a kayak that was the right color...and had no qualms about killing Adam when they caught him. What enraged Adam most was that they wouldn’t hesitate to also murder the gutsy woman who’d done nothing wrong except save Adam’s life.
Maybe their fear of Dwayne drove them, but the hunt had been unrelenting. So, yeah, if he had a chance to knock out either or both, he had to take it.
“Under these circumstances, there’s no need to bother disabling the boat,” he said. “In fact, we could take it.”
“You mean, if...”
He killed the two men. Yeah.
The question was, how could he do that when his only two weapons were a knife and a flare gun?
Knowing they didn’t have long, he set Claire up behind the driftwood logs, not far from their camp. He found a solid branch—not driftwood, those were too lightweight—and told her if either of the men made it over the barricade, she should swing for the son of a bitch’s head with everything she had.
“Can you do that?” he asked, not sure if her answer mattered. Even determined people often couldn’t pull the trigger when the moment arrived.
She swallowed, firmed her jaw and nodded. She had more steel in her b
ackbone than most people, he’d long since realized. Seeing her good friend shot right in front of her had to be strong motivation, too.
“I’ll take one of them out with the flare gun.” Depending on whether he could aim it with any accuracy. “And hope I have time to reload it.”
He’d practiced during some of their downtime.
If the flare missed... Adam didn’t let himself contemplate it for long. Boyden and Gibbons would both be carrying semiautomatic handguns. They’d strafe him with bullets.
His plan was lousy, but if there was a feasible plan B, he couldn’t see it. Thinking about leaving Claire on her own felt like a knife blade to his chest.
The sound of the motor had diminished as they talked, but now grew again in volume.
He kissed Claire gently, gazed into her astonishingly blue eyes for a moment that stretched, then turned away to jog to his own hideout.
The wait couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes, but felt interminable. His habit was to think of everything that could go wrong and figure out how to shift the odds. Today, the odds were so damn bad, he had trouble envisioning how this could go right—but he’d been in tough places before, and survived.
He’d kept the binoculars with him, but didn’t even lift them. When the inflatable appeared, it was so close he could make out the men’s faces. They idled on the other side of the field of kelp, Boyden, seated at the stern with the outboard motor, talking and gesturing.
Right then, the motor died.
Some swearing went on, Adam able to hear every agitated word.
Boyden leaned over the back, then gesticulated some more. He raised the rotors from the water, and even Adam was able to see that kelp tangled them, slick and topped by brown bulbs. Meanwhile, the boat bobbed at the mercy of the tide and currents that pushed it farther into the broad bed of kelp.
Adam debated shooting the flare gun at them while they were distracted. The range was farther than he liked, given that he’d never fired the thing. He’d undoubtedly have time to dive back behind drift logs and reload, though.
He kept watching as the two men broke out some oars and clumsily attempted to back out of the trap they were being sucked into. Boyden finally concentrated on cutting the kelp from the propeller, although that left Gibbons to single-handedly wield the oar.
God, what Adam would have given for a gun.
Gradually he relaxed, as what had been impending battle and potential bloodshed became farce. If he hadn’t guessed that Claire would find no humor whatsoever in watching those two idiots struggle, he might have enjoyed himself.
He didn’t forget that they might yet break free of the field of kelp and decide to take the narrow path free of entanglements to the beach.
Except he noticed something he hadn’t earlier. The tide had turned again, leaving wet gravel...and rocks. The kayaks had floated right over them, but they hadn’t been exposed then.
No, the beach was no longer accessible. Pray to God those two didn’t realize that it ever had been.
* * *
PREPARING DINNER A couple of hours later, Claire couldn’t help thinking that this could be her last night with Adam. If all went well and they made it the rest of the way through Spitfire Channel tomorrow, they might immediately encounter a boat they could stop. They could be separated from the minute the Canadian Coast Guard responded, or maybe taken to Shearwater or Bella Bella—communities right across the bay from each other—to stay until ferries docked. She would be on one going south, Adam on one going north, or so she assumed.
No, he might stay on a coast guard vessel, it occurred to her.
Not looking at him, she asked, “Are you based out of Alaska?”
He shook his head. “No DEA office in Alaska. I’m currently working out of San Diego. That’s where we caught the first whiffs of this particular drug trafficking operation.”
“I’ve never been there.”
“It’s a nice city. Beaches are great. With the border so close, we’re busy.”
“I’ll bet.” She concentrated on dishing up the vegetarian chili she’d served before and that he’d seemed to like. It seemed safest, since she guessed Hurricane Island was plenty large enough to have active wildlife. With the memory of the previous night, Adam hadn’t suggested a steak, even tongue in cheek.
“We...tend to get transferred regularly,” he commented, after swallowing a bite. “There is a Seattle office.”
“Oh.” Was he hinting that he might request it?
Sure. Jumping to conclusions, are you?
“My mom is down in Arizona now,” Claire heard herself say. “She likes the dry heat.” As if he cared.
“Your father?”
“They’re divorced. Did I say that? He’s remarried and in South Carolina. He works for Boeing,” she added, seeing that he knew the company had a plant there.
“That’s why you started at Boeing?” Adam surprised her by asking.
Claire made a face at him. “Of course. Dad knew someone. Once I had experience, I moved on. Boeing is just so huge. Plus, I liked getting a job on my own.” She almost tacked on a You know? but remembered in time that he’d had no parent to help him get a first job.
“So you’ve always lived in the Seattle area?”
“Yes. I’ve sometimes considered venturing farther afield, but... I don’t know. The idea is a little scary.”
“Scarier than this vacation?” he said with wry humor.
Despite the ache inside, Claire laughed. “My perspective has changed a little.”
“On what’s fun?”
She loved the smile playing with his lips, but answered seriously. “No, mostly on what I’m capable of doing. I thought I was being brave taking up sea kayaking. Testing myself against nature.” She rolled her eyes. “Now I’ve been stretched beyond anything I thought I could do.” She tried to smile, but knew she wasn’t successfully. “Like, say, bashing a man’s head in with a tree branch.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to,” he said with sudden intensity. “I hope you never have to do anything like that. Killing a man, even when it’s justified, isn’t easy to live with.”
She scraped the sides of the pan with her spoon by feel, her gaze on his hard face. “These guys are trying to kill us.”
“They are,” he said after a moment. “Even so, I worked with them for over a month. Went out for a beer with one of them. I doubt either had killed before, although I could be wrong about that. They apparently didn’t hesitate when they came on Kyle Sheppard, which surprises me. I’d have said they’re muscle-on-the-hoof who don’t mind breaking the law, but that’s not the same as going out on a search-and-destroy mission.” He shook his head. “I doubt they know what’s really at stake.”
Disturbed, she said, “I wanted to hate them.”
“I shouldn’t have said any of that.” He set down his bowl with a sharp movement and reached up with his good hand to knead the back of his neck. “Better you do hate them. I’m afraid now we’ll find them lying in wait for us.”
“I know.” And oh, she didn’t want to think about an attack coming out of nowhere. Of straining tomorrow to see anything that didn’t fit, listening for the rumble of an outboard motor. Knowing that along most of the way they had yet to paddle, they’d be in a narrow chute between rock shoulders with very few coves shallow enough to offer any chance of letting them get off the water or hide.
If only she’d made a different decision early on, she thought for what had to be the twenty or thirtieth time.
But if she had, they would have been completely exposed in Spider Anchorage. And...could Adam have paddled across that distance the first day they set out? Or even the second day?
She didn’t think so. Plus, she didn’t believe even Adam had expected a hunt quite so relentless.
“We can’t leave until the tide is in,” he sai
d out of the blue.
“No. You saw the rocks?”
“Did you know they were there?”
Claire shook her head. “It’s actually a miracle one of us didn’t scrape our hull.”
“What happens if you do?”
She shrugged. “Most often, just a scar. I carry a kit to mend anything more serious, but it’s a nuisance.”
“Under the circumstances, more than a nuisance,” he said dryly.
“One hole won’t sink a kayak, any more than it would that raft. Kayaks are designed with bulkheads and multiple air compartments, too, you know.”
“Accessed by the different hatches,” he murmured in a tone of enlightenment. “I should have realized.”
Now she could smile. “Have you been worrying about sinking like a rock?”
His grin changed his face in a way that always startled her, and made her heart do gymnastics. “It’s crossed my mind.”
“I never thought to ask how well you swim.”
“I’m no Michael Phelps, but I can get up and back a few times in the swimming pool. In these waters, does it matter?”
“Well...only to be sure you can hold out until another kayaker comes to your rescue.”
He smiled again. “I did that.”
“You did.” She couldn’t help smiling back. But the grin faded when she said, “We can’t launch in the dark tomorrow.”
“No, I can see why. But early.”
Claire nodded. What else was there to say?
* * *
RAIN AGAIN, WHICH Adam told himself was a good thing. It gave them a better chance of passing unseen.
Of course, it also limited their visibility, which he hated.
Both he and Claire wore their wet suits and wide-brimmed hats to fend off the rain. Since the rain seemed to be coming down at a slant, the hats weren’t as helpful as he’d have liked. At his suggestion, they had also donned rain slickers over, rather than under, their too-bright yellow life vests. With the knife he had taken to carrying, he slit the rain slicker so that he could easily reach the flare gun he again carried in the vest pocket.
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