Indefensible

by Pamela Callow

  “Put on the life jacket, Kate!” Her thin blouse was soaking wet—as was the rest of her—and the silky fabric clung to her shoulders, her breasts, her spine. “It will keep you warmer.”

  That wasn’t the only reason he suggested it. He wouldn’t admit it to her, but he wasn’t sure the small boat could handle this sea. If it tipped over, she’d have some protection.

  He didn’t have to say it twice. She pulled the life vest out from under the seat and zipped it up, then resumed her perch in the bow. The next minute she yelped in surprise. “Turn right, turn right,” she screamed, frantically pointing off the starboard side at two o’clock.

  “Do you see something?” Randall craned his head in the direction she pointed, but he could see nothing.

  “I think I see a boat!” Kate’s arm trembled as she pointed.

  Randall peered through the fog. Was that the hulking outline of Roost Island? He couldn’t tell. The veil of gray obscured everything. It was disorienting, the fog. Just you, the boat, the water below you. Nothing ahead, nothing behind.

  Somewhere off to their left, a buoy warned of danger, its discordant clanging the only indication of existence beyond their little dory.

  There was a shoal by Roost Island. And they were very close. He slowed the engine, listening. What side of the buoy were they on? The ocean side? Or the shoal side?

  He couldn’t tell. Without a visual reference, the clanging could be coming from anywhere.

  “Do you see that?” Kate called. She pointed. A shape surged against the waves. “I think it’s a boat!”

  His heart lifted, sank, pounded crazily. If it was a boat, it must be on the shoal. But if it was a boat, it was probably the one that carried his children. If Nick and Lucy were in the water, they’d be freezing.

  If they were alive.

  He forced the thought out of his head.

  “Look for them in the water!” he called to Kate. But she was already scanning the waves.

  “It’s hard to see anything with the fog,” she yelled. He could hear her frustration, sense her fear. “Go slower. You might run over them.”

  She was right. He adjusted the throttle, wanting to go even faster and yet knowing he daren’t.

  But what if one of his kids was drowning thirty feet away and he was going too slowly to reach them in time?

  All they could hear was the low, heavy rumble of their engine. The wind, in their ears. The bell of the buoy clanging. For the rest of his life, Randall’s stomach would clench when he heard a buoy.

  “Nick!” he shouted. “Lucy!”

  Kate joined in. “Nick! Lucy! We’re over here!”

  Their eyes strained toward the shape and it slowly revealed its jagged angles. It was the Glory Anne. Not much was left of it. Just its bow, the port side of its cabin and a section of the port deck.

  The rest was submerged or had already sunk. This area was known for its high-energy shipwrecks, and the Glory Anne had now added itself to that number.

  Waves thrashed against the wreck, flinging against the rocks, spume flying into fog.

  Where were his ki—

  Light against dark. He saw something.

  “Nick!” he screamed. “Nick!”

  His son huddled on the shoal, clutching a rock, his shaved head in stark contrast to the black rocks.

  Randall stared in amazement. How the hell was Nick holding on? His heart raced as he eased the dory toward the shoal. Nick looked as if he could barely grasp the rocks, and the waves were breaking around him—

  “Randall, I see them!” Kate yelled.

  She pointed behind the dory and off to the right. Two blond heads bobbed in the water.

  “It’s Lucy!” Kate shouted. “She’s with Gainsford!”

  And from what they could see, Gainsford had a very tight hold on her. Would he drown her if he saw their boat?

  Fear gripped Randall’s gut.

  If Nick could hold on just a few minutes more… He looked back at his son.

  And his heart froze. Nick was slipping down into the water.

  Kate leaped to her feet. The boat rocked wildly. “Get Nick!” she cried as she jumped overboard.

  She heard Randall cry her name.

  Cold hit her. Her flesh numbed almost instantly. The life jacket prevented her from going too deep and she fought to keep her face above the waves.

  “Kate!” Randall looked back at her over the stern of the dory. He’d already begun moving toward the shoal. His eyes shouted, Be careful. Don’t let him hurt her.

  She waved once. Go. Then she began to swim toward the two heads that bobbed thirty feet away.

  After ten seconds, she realized she could not swim forward with the life jacket on. She wrapped the belt around one hand, then unzipped the jacket, her fingers numb, her gaze fixed on the two heads that appeared and disappeared as the fog blew over the water.

  Surely Gainsford must have seen them. Or at least heard them. Yet he didn’t move.

  She gripped the life jacket in both hands, using it as a flutter board, and kicked furiously toward them.

  Twenty feet away now.

  She could see them both.

  The back of Lucy’s head leaned against Jamie Gainsford’s shoulder.

  He was holding her in the classic lifesaving position, her back on his chest, his arm around her torso. He must have seen Kate by now. Why didn’t he try to escape with her?

  Was he playing possum? He was incredibly devious. Was he waiting for Kate to approach and then planning to kill Lucy in front of her eyes?

  She kicked harder, face down in the water to gain speed. When she came up for air she was ten feet away.

  She whipped her head back, blinking the water out of her eyes.

  Was Gainsford sinking?

  Adrenaline chased away the numbness and she plowed through the water. Eight feet, seven feet, six feet.

  She could almost touch them with the life jacket. She wanted to throw it to them. Gainsford was struggling to stay afloat.

  But it was too risky. Gainsford could snatch the jacket—and leave them to drown.

  She hugged it to her chest and swam closer.

  He still had his arm wrapped around Lucy.

  She was limp.

  Oh, God. Was she dead?

  Was Gainsford luring Kate to his side with Lucy’s body as bait?

  Fear hit her hard in the stomach.

  And then Jamie Gainsford went under.

  With Lucy in his arms.

  Kate let go of the life jacket and dived under the water. She forced her eyes open. The water was black. Dense. Vast. She couldn’t see anything.

  Anyone.

  Panic seized her. Where was Lucy?

  Dear God, was she already too far gone that Kate couldn’t reach her?

  Kate propelled herself deeper into the water, her eyes searching through the black for the whiteness of flesh.

  Blond hair, swirling upward.

  Lucy’s ponytail.

  Kate reached for it, kicking and straining, water stinging her eyes, her lungs burning.

  The ends of Lucy’s hair brushed Kate’s fingers. And something else.

  It was Jamie Gainsford’s cheek.

  He turned his head toward her as her fingers scrabbled for Lucy’s ponytail.

  His hand reached out—

  A hand clamped on her shoulder. Craig Peters pulled her down into the icy black depths of the lake.

  Kate’s breath choked in her throat. Her lungs begged for air. She frantically wrapped Lucy’s ponytail around her hand, trying to yank Lucy out of Jamie’s grasp.

  His eyes met hers.

  Then he pushed Lucy toward her, wincing from the movement. His other arm hung by his side.

  Dear God. He wasn’t trying to kill Lucy. He was drowning.

  He looked at her and she knew he could tell she was deciding whether to save him.

  Or not.

  He kicked away from her.

  Her lungs couldn’t take another minute
without oxygen.

  She spun around as a flurry of bubbles shot out from Jamie Gainsford’s mouth.

  He sank away. She kicked upward. Lucy was a dead weight. It had only taken seconds, those moments under the ocean, but were they too many? Had Lucy drowned?

  She broke through the surface, gasping for air, dragging Lucy’s head above the water. She pressed her ear to the girl’s nose.

  “Kate!”

  Randall steered the boat toward her with one hand, while leaning an oar over the side. “Grab the oar!”

  Relief shone from his eyes. “I saw the life jacket…”

  She grabbed the handle, and gasped, “Quick. Take Lucy! She’s not breathing.”

  Randall’s face paled. He shoved the engine into Neutral and pulled Lucy into the dory. Kate hung on to the side of the boat, her head resting on her arm, her ears straining.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she heard Randall exclaim, “Thank God!” followed with Lucy sputtering water out of her lungs.

  Then Randall grasped Kate’s arms and hoisted her into the dory. She lay on her stomach, draped over the seat, while Randall steered the boat.

  Nick? Where was Nick?

  She raised her head. Nick huddled in the bow, his leg extended awkwardly. Lucy lay by his thigh. They both shivered.

  The wind skimmed ice along her numb flesh. Her hands were blue. So were her legs. Which, she discovered, were bare. Her skirt had been lost somewhere in the water.

  There was no room for Kate on the floor of the boat, so she hunkered down on the seat, hunching her shoulders against the wind, and hugged her arms.

  A hand pulled on her shoulder.

  She started, but Randall merely gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Come on. You’re freezing.”

  They huddled together on the small seat by the engine. Kate’s thigh, bare and goose-bumped, was jammed against Randall’s. He rubbed her legs briskly, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly against him. They were both wet and freezing. But sitting together helped block the wind. “Thank you.”

  The words were husky. Kate could hear the tears in his voice. She kept her eyes fixed on the water and said, “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “You saved her life.”

  She swallowed. “I let Jamie Gainsford die, Randall.”

  His body tensed.

  “How? Did he try to hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “He was injured. I think…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to portray Jamie Gainsford as a savior. She wasn’t ready to redeem him. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be. But the truth needed to be told. Judgment of it could come later. “I think he tried to keep Lucy from drowning.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  And she had a feeling she probably never would. Had Jamie Gainsford regretted his actions? Was he trying to atone for the evil he had done?

  But could he ever atone? Was saving Lucy’s life atonement enough?

  She couldn’t think about it right now.

  She was too exhausted.

  After a few minutes, Kate realized that Randall was steering the boat in a small circle. “I can’t see through the fog,” he said. “We haven’t hit any rocks in this radius, so I’m going to keep doing it until the Coast Guard arrives.”

  “If we run out of gas before they come…” Kate tried to joke but neither of them could smile. When would the Coast Guard come?

  Ten minutes later, they heard the engine.

  Twenty minutes later, they were wrapped in survival blankets, cupping mugs of hot tea, slumped in the heated cabin of the Coast Guard vessel.

  74

  Tuesday, 9:14 p.m.

  Kate hadn’t known Alaska had been a victim of Jamie Gainsford’s until she and Randall returned to shore with Lucy and Nick.

  They had been numb: with cold, with shock, with everything life had dealt them in the past few days. When they staggered off the boat they were whisked into ambulances and taken to the hospital, where they spent the next few hours recovering from hypothermia. Randall and Kate were released, but Lucy and Nick were admitted. They wanted to observe Lucy’s brain function. Nick had multiple fractures in his leg, cracked ribs, a broken nose, and was suffering from hypothermia.

  As soon as Randall was told he could leave, he hurried to the children’s hospital to be with his kids. Kate rushed to the vet hospital and picked up both Alaska and Charlie. “Fortunately, they weren’t given too much chloral hydrate,” the vet told her. “It could have killed them.”

  When Kate arrived home, Finn was waiting with a hot cup of tea and a plate of spaghetti for her, and a small plate of spaghetti for Alaska. When he saw Charlie, he scraped the pot, scrounging up a second serving. “I think they earned it,” Finn said. Kate nodded, tears pricking her eyes. Then she saw the closet. Finn had nailed shut the half-door leading to the staircase. “Enid asked me to,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d object.”

  After fussing over her and doing the dishes, Finn offered to come back later and spend the night on the sofa in the living room. Kate was tempted, oh, she was tempted, but in the end she refused. If she said yes, she’d want him in her house every night. It wasn’t fair to Finn. He wasn’t her babysitter.

  He left, promising to come back and check on the dogs the next day. Kate ran a hot bath and lay in it, eyes closed, luxuriating in the warm water on her skin. Her arm ached. Every muscle in her body felt as if it had been stretched to the limit. She let her body go limp and her mind go blank. There’d be time enough to piece all the day’s events into one complete picture; right now she just needed to get her head back on straight.

  When she dried herself after her bath, she hesitated. Would Randall come by tonight to pick up Charlie? If so, she should get dressed. But she longed to put on her jammies. She glanced at the clock. Randall still had not called. It was late. They were both exhausted. He was probably sleeping at the hospital.

  She slipped on a tank top and a pair of silky pajama bottoms, then wrapped herself up in her fleecy bathrobe. Although it was summer, fog chilled the air. Besides, she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel warm again. She heated up a mug of hot chocolate, then curled up on the sofa, the phone by her side.

  She was being silly. Randall was with his children.

  But she longed to have someone to talk to, someone who’d been there, who understood what she’d just been through.

  And that was him.

  But he didn’t call her.

  Instead, he showed up on her doorstep. Wordlessly, she let him in. They stared at each other in the dim hallway.

  “I came to get Charlie.”

  Then he opened his arms and she stepped into them.

  He held her against his chest. One hand stroked her hair. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder. It was warm, solid, unyielding. Charlie limped toward him, nuzzling his leg.

  “Kate, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You could have died out there.”

  She felt a sob build in her chest. She pulled away from him, managing a wry smile. “I’ve dealt with worse situations.” She pushed a strand of hair off her face. “How are the kids?”

  “Lucy is coming around. I think she’ll be okay.” Her eyes searched his. He knew what she wanted to ask. He added softly, “She says that Jamie Gainsford didn’t hurt her.”

  He looked away, his gaze bleak. Kate knew it would take a long time for Randall to get over the fact he failed to protect his daughter.

  “How about Nick?”

  “He’s doing okay,” Randall said. “Gainsford gave him a beating, but Nick took him down.” There was no mistaking the pride in Randall’s voice. “You know, he looks a mess, but he seems less…tangled.” Randall rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to explain it. But he just seems to be at peace with himself.”

  Kate knew exactly what he meant. She’d felt the same way after surviving Craig Peters’ attack.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about what happene
d with Jamie Gainsford. She’d been stricken with guilt when she realized he’d been injured. That he couldn’t save himself.

  But maybe he hadn’t wanted to save himself.

  There had been something in his eyes. She’d been expecting to see Craig Peters reflected back at her.

  Instead, she’d seen resignation. Acceptance.

  Peace.

  Part of her was relieved. But there was a part of her that felt Gainsford didn’t deserve the peace he’d claimed just before his death. And she wasn’t sure if she should feel ashamed or self-righteous.

  She wanted to tell Randall about it. But this wasn’t the right time. Exhaustion carved grooves between his brows.

  He looked at her, a question in his eyes. A question she didn’t know how to answer.

  “Kate.” He stepped closer. “I want to thank you. You saved my daughter’s life.”

  She pulled her bathrobe more tightly around her.

  She knew she should just smile and accept Randall’s gratitude, but she didn’t want him indebted to her. Their relationship seemed to swing from one extreme to another. She knew firsthand how devastating it could be when the pendulum stopped and there was no real weight to balance it.

  “You already thanked me,” she said, then regretted it. What a lame response. What are you supposed to say when someone thanks you for saving their child’s life?

  His eyes burned into hers. “You don’t know how much it meant to me that you stuck by me.”

  She shrugged. “I had to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve been there.”

  He rubbed a hand over his neck, hesitating. His eyes searched hers. Finally, he said, “I need to mourn Elise.”

  “Agreed.” Elise Vanderzell deserved no less. But she knew it was more than Elise he was mourning. He was mourning the place he and his ex-wife had gone, the place where they both became less of what they were.

  Charlie whined deep in her throat. Randall knelt down and rubbed her head. Then he pulled her leash from his pocket and clipped it on her collar. He glanced up at Kate. “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how the kids are doing.”

  “Thank you.”