The Broken Chase

by Cap Daniels

  I suggested we hit the sack.

  “You can sleep in as long as you’d like tomorrow,” I told her. “We don’t have anything to do except take you shopping. I guess you’re getting tired of wearing Anya’s clothes.”

  “No, I actually kind of like her stuff. She has good taste. After all, she picked you.”

  “She had good taste,” I corrected her, “but not in picking me. Picking me got her killed.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . .”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s going to take a while for me to get over her and what happened.”

  She wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. “I know. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  “It’s not your fault. Bad things happen sometimes, but I promise not to let anything happen to you.”

  She kissed me on the cheek. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning. And I’m holding you to that shopping trip you promised.”

  I rubbed the top of her head, messing up her hair. “Good night, Skipper. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Are you ever going to stop calling me Skipper?”

  “Probably not,” I said.

  * * *

  Sleep came, and I awoke with the sun as usual. I made coffee and hosed off the deck and hulls to get rid of the saltwater spray from the previous day’s adventure.

  I’d hadn’t seen the underside of my new home, so I pulled a set of scuba gear from a locker and slid into the water. I was impressed with the underwater lines and surprised how shallow the draft was. I swam between the hulls and rubbed at a couple of smudge spots that came off easily. Just before I reached the bow, I saw a small black disk beneath and behind the trampoline. I kicked upward, trying to reach it, but it was too far out of the water for me to touch. I made a mental note of its position and climbed out of the water. I rinsed off myself and my dive gear with the hose on the dock, and shook like a dog shedding water before climbing back on board. I lay down on the trampoline and tried to push my hand between the mat and the lacing holding it in place, but my hand was too big.

  “What are you doing?” Skipper was standing by the mast with a cup of coffee in her hands.

  Frustrated, I said, “There’s something stuck on the hull of the boat, but my hand’s too big to get it.”

  She set her mug on the deck and slid down the front of the cabin top. “Maybe my hand will fit.”

  “Good idea.” I pointed to the object. “See if you can reach it. I don’t know what it is, but if you can get it off, I’d like to see it.”

  With ease, she stuck her hand through the lacing. “I can feel it, but it’s stuck on there pretty good.”

  “Keep trying, but I have an idea.” I walked to the back of the boat and lowered the dinghy into the water. I fired up the outboard engine and motored around to the bow. I cut the engine and pulled myself beneath the trampoline, hand-over-hand, until I was directly beneath the object. Skipper was still twisting and pulling, but whatever it was wasn’t going to come off the hull easily.

  When she pulled her hands away, I saw it—a satellite tracker. I motored back around to the stern and lifted the dinghy back onto its davits.

  Skipper met me in the cockpit. “Did you get it off?”

  “No, I’m going to leave it for now.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s a satellite tracker,” I said. “It sends a signal to a specific satellite, and anyone who has access to the data from that satellite will always know where this boat is.”

  “Well, isn’t that a good thing? If you ever get in trouble, someone will know where you are.”

  “Like most tools, it has its positive side when used for good, but when the wrong people are looking, I don’t always want them to know where I am.”

  “Do you think the Andersons put it there?”

  “I don’t know yet, but if they did, it had to be Sara. Michael’s hands would’ve been too big.”

  I called Jack Ford.

  “Good morning, Jack. Chase Fulton here. I have a couple favors to ask.”

  Jack spoke in his usual friendly tone. “Of course, Chase. Anything you need. Just name it.”

  “First, I wonder if you could get me that little red Porsche I had last week. And second, I need to come talk with you about Sara and Michael Anderson.”

  “The answer is of course, yes, to both. I’ll have Stephanie arrange for the car, and I’ll be in my office all morning. Come by at your leisure.”

  Before Skipper and I left the boat, I was careful to lock every hatch, and I activated the boarding detection system, a handy little gadget that would let me know if anyone had been aboard in my absence.

  “Where are we going, Chase?” Skipper asked.

  “We’re going up to the hotel to pick up our rental car, and I need to talk with the manager for a few minutes.”

  We climbed the steps to the lobby of the hotel.

  “Go in and order us some breakfast, and I’ll be in to meet you in a few minutes,” I said. “I’d love an omelet and coffee.”

  “Sure. I’ll see if we can get our favorite table.”

  * * *

  Stephanie was at the front desk. “Good morning, Mr. Fulton. Mr. Ford is expecting you. Go right on in.”

  “Thank you, and good morning to you, too, Stephanie.”

  Jack rose to greet me, and I took a seat in front of his massive desk.

  “It’s good to see you, Chase. I heard the charter went splendidly well.”

  “We had a nice time, and Vinny was incredible. You’re lucky to have him.”

  “We certainly are,” he said. “He’s been with us for almost fifteen years. He started as a dishwasher and will probably be executive chef one day. He’s dedicated and hardworking. I could use a dozen more exactly like him.”

  “I’m sure you could,” I said. “Listen, Jack. Some things came up with the Andersons that rang a little bell in my head. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions about them.”

  “Sure, fire away. I’ll tell you all I can.”

  “Great. First, how often do they stay with you?”

  He cocked his head. “This was their first time on the property. They came in the day after you arrived without a reservation and booked a room for ten days, but they checked out this morning.”

  “I may be pushing my luck here, but can you tell me what address they listed as their home address, and how they paid for the room?”

  He pressed a button on his phone. “Stephanie, bring me the Andersons file, please.”

  In seconds, she appeared in the doorway with the file in her hand. She offered it to Jack, but he pointed to me. “Give it to Chase. Thank you, Stephanie.”

  I opened the file and thumbed through the contents. It indicated they’d paid with cash and listed a post office box in Wilmington, Delaware as their home address. No phone numbers were listed.

  Jack gave me plenty of time to go over the file before he asked, “What’s this all about? What has you concerned?”

  “I don’t know, Jack. I just felt uneasy with them, and this file is so vague. They could be anyone from anywhere.”

  He squirmed in his seat. “Forgive me for asking, but is everything okay with Ana? I haven’t seen her since you came back, and now you have a new young lady with you.”

  “Oh, yes, Jack. Everything’s fine. Ana was called away for work, and I brought an old friend’s daughter to help get the boat back to the Keys. Thanks for the information—and for the concern.”

  He didn’t look satisfied with my answer, but I wasn’t going to give him the chance to probe further. I stood, placed the file on his desk, and offered my hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

  “I greatly appreciate your hospitality, Jack. I think we’ll be leaving tomorrow. It looks like we have a pretty good weather window for our trip back down south. Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re quite welcome, Chase. We’re always at
your service.”

  I met Skipper in the dining room at what had become our favorite table overlooking the garden. The waiter was delivering our plates as I arrived.

  We enjoyed our breakfast and watched several birds playing outside the window. When we’d finished, I signed our bill and the hostess handed me the same key fob from the previous week. I thanked her, and we headed out the doors and down the steps.

  “Hey, you have a driver’s license, right?” I asked.

  “Sure I do,” she said.

  I tossed her the keys and pointed toward the bright red convertible Porsche sitting by the curb. “Good, then you can drive.”

  “Are you serious? That’s our rental car?”

  “Yep, it sure is. Now let’s get to that shopping trip I promised you.”

  I slid into the passenger’s seat, and she slipped into the driver’s seat and buckled her seat belt. The car roared to life at the touch of a button, and she pulled away from the curb.

  We stopped at the same shops Anya and I had been. I tried not to let the memory put a damper on my mood, but I’m sure Skipper could tell I wasn’t myself. Shopping with Skipper was nothing like shopping with Anya. Where Anya had been efficient and decisive, Skipper was agonizingly slow to pick out anything and insisted on my approval for everything she tried on.

  I took her by the shoulders. “Pick what you want. It doesn’t matter what it costs. You’re going to need clothes if you’re going to be living on the boat for a while.”

  “But I only have fourteen hundred. You said I’ll have to make it last since we won’t be doing any more charters.”

  “I may have misspoken. Keep your money. The shopping trip is on me. You’ve earned it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  She squealed. “Thank you, Chase! You’re the best.”

  I gave my credit card to the clerk and pointed toward Skipper. “Put whatever she wants on this. I’ll be sitting over there.”

  The clerk took a good look at me and then Skipper who was noticeably younger than I was. “Of course, sir. Some gentlemen like to impose a limit on what their lady friends spend. Shall I limit what she buys?”

  I decided to have a little fun with the clerk who disapproved of what she thought was going on between me and Skipper.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “If it’s more than a hundred bucks, let me know. I may need to split it up onto another card or two.”

  I let her stew for a minute.

  “On second thought, don’t worry about the total. I assure you my lady friend, as you so eloquently called her, is worth whatever she costs.”

  With that, I retired to a comfortable overstuffed chair near the dressing rooms that had, undoubtedly, been placed there for gentlemen waiting for their lady friends to finish shopping.

  Our shopping trip turned into stops at nine more shops. While I was waiting for Skipper, I called Dominic to ask if he’d placed the satellite tracking device on the hull of my boat. He assured me the boat had no tracking devices aboard except the EPIRB, the emergency position-indicating radio beacon, which would notify the Coast Guard if the boat were to sink.

  I made a mental note to point that device out to Skipper.

  “Why do you ask about a tracking device?”

  “I found one on the hull, behind and beneath the trampoline,” I said.

  “If it was beneath the trampoline, it’s unlikely that it would work very well without a clear view of the sky, and unless it’s hardwired to a power source, it can’t remain active very long.”

  I thanked him and told him about Skipper being aboard. “We’re going to head south in the morning. I plan to make St. Augustine tomorrow afternoon. What’s the likelihood of me getting a new assignment anytime soon?”

  “I don’t know. That’s not my area,” he said, “but I’ll put out some feelers and see what I can find out. Do you need a little time to catch your breath and gather your wits?”

  “Yeah, about fifty years should do it.”

  He sighed. “I understand. Check in with me when you make St. Augustine, and I’ll let you know what I find out about upcoming assignments.”

  We hung up as Skipper walked up, looking battle weary from over-shopping.

  We found a great burger joint and talked about how things used to be. I told her about my plan to leave Jekyll Island the next morning and head south, probably to St. Augustine, and then further south in the coming days. I told her I’d like to get to the Virgin Islands if the weather would cooperate.

  She seemed excited about her first real trip aboard the boat. “Can you teach me to sail?”

  I agreed to turn her into a sailor, and we decided an early night was in order so we could get underway when the sun came up. It was a perfect ending to a very long day. I had no way to know the days to come wouldn’t end so peacefully for either of us.

  23

  Lessons

  As usual, I woke as soon as the first rays of the sun came through my portlight. I was surprised to smell coffee brewing in the galley, and when I climbed the stairs into the main salon, there were two mugs sitting beside the pot, but there was no sign of Skipper. Perhaps she’d started the coffee and gone back to bed. I was certainly capable of getting us underway without her help, but I was thankful for the coffee.

  When I walked out on deck, I saw her dragging the heavy hose from the diesel pump down the dock and toward the boat.

  “Oh, good. You’re up,” she said. “I thought we should take on fuel and water before we left this morning, so I got the gas guy to turn the pump on for me.”

  I set my mug down and reached over the lifeline for the pump nozzle. She hefted it up, and I started filling our tanks.

  “Hand up that water hose, and I’ll top off the fresh water tanks while we’re here,” I said.

  She did as I’d asked, and the tanks were soon overflowing. The boat had an automatic water maker, but I wasn’t sure how much water it produced per day. It appeared to be keeping up with our water usage quite nicely, but there was no excuse not to fill the holding tanks.

  “We need to turn our car back in.”

  Skipper leapt to her feet. “I’ll do it! Where are the keys?”

  I pulled the fob from my pocket and tossed it to her. “Park it out front at the hotel and leave the keys with the clerk at the front desk. Oh, and if Jack Ford’s in his office, have the clerk give me a call, and I’ll run up and say goodbye.”

  “Okay,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

  I’d asked Vinny to have one of his guys provision the boat for us while we were out shopping the day before, and once again, he exceeded my expectations. We had everything we needed for at least two weeks at sea, but it wasn’t my plan to do any overnight trips. I needed Skipper to learn enough about the boat so she could stand watch while I slept a few hours during the day. It’d be a while before she was ready.

  I heard the Porsche accelerate out of the marina parking lot as if Anya were at the wheel. It made me smile. Twenty minutes later, Skipper was on the dock, singing and dancing her way back to the boat. When I saw her coming, I fired up the engines and checked for oil pressure and raw water flow for the cooling systems. Everything was in order, so I had Skipper cast off the dock lines before she climbed aboard.

  “Mr. Ford wasn’t there yet. Stephanie said he’d be in around nine.”

  I’d motored away, and we were well clear of the dock. “Here, take the wheel,” I said. “You have to start learning sometime, so how about now?”

  She grabbed the wheel with both hands and stood on her tiptoes, looking out over the bow.

  “Point us toward the center of the bridge. It’s sixty-five feet at the highest point and our mast is sixty-two feet above the waterline. I’m going to bring in the fenders.”

  I went to work hauling in the big rubber fenders we’d hung over the side to protect our hull from the dock. Skipper did exceptionally well handling the boat beneath the bridge and down
the Intracoastal Waterway. I explained the importance of the buoys and how to read the GPS chart plotter.

  It didn’t take long for us to make our way out of the mouth of St. Andrew Sound and into the North Atlantic. I’d feared we have a headwind all the way to St. Augustine, but I was pleased to see the wind shifting out of the west, making a fast, comfortable sail to the south. It was less than sixty-five miles to the St. Augustine inlet, so we would be there in time for dinner.

  Just after lunch, Skipper stood at the helm, and I was nodding off in the cockpit.

  “Chase! What’s that?”

  I awoke and jumped to my feet. I saw the conning tower of a navy submarine heading west in front of us.

  “That’s a submarine,” I said. “He’s headed into the Mayport Naval Station.” I pointed into the southern end of the mouth of the St. John’s River. There were several naval vessels tied up in the basin.

  “That’s so cool. Are we going to be in his way?”

  “No, he’s moving a lot faster than us. He’ll pass in front of us, but just to be safe, let’s turn a little to the east so he’ll know we see him.”

  We made our turn and Skipper retrimmed the sails for the new course without any direction from me. Perhaps we’d be making overnight passages sooner than I expected.

  “That reminds me,” I said. “I want to show you something.”

  I pointed out the fluorescent green device resting in its holster on the bulkhead. “This is the EPIRB. If we were to sink, this would float free of its little holster and send out a rescue signal to the Coast Guard.”

  She studied the device. “Do we have to be sinking for it to work?”

  “No, we don’t have to be sinking for it to work. If you hold the red button down for five seconds, it’ll activate. We’d only do that if we were on fire or damaged in a storm. There’s no way to know everything that could wrong, but I think you get the picture.”

  We made the turn into the St. Augustine Inlet, and I stepped to the wheel.

  She pushed me away. “Let me do it. If I screw it up, you can take over before I kill us.”

  I liked her confidence and newfound love of seamanship. She did everything I would’ve done, and she even spotted and avoided the sandbar south of the Usina Bridge. Even with our shallow draft, we could’ve found ourselves aground if we hadn’t stayed in the channel.