Heavenly Stranger

by Tina Wainscott

  Even a hurricane seemed inconsequential compared to everything else going on. Ducking her head, she tore into the rain again. No one was around now that the storm was moving in. Boats were dark, and the sky was a froth of gray clouds. Wires clanged against masts and boats rocked in the waves, an eerie backbeat.

  It amazed her that the glint of gold caught Maddie’s eye as she stepped aboard Shades of Heaven. She almost ignored it for the dry cabin, but heck, she was already as wet as she was going to be. The gold, it turned out, was Chase’s cross, given to him by Lila. It must have broken off when Chase and his father tussled on the deck. She tucked it into her pocket and climbed down into the cabin. A sheet of heavier rain swept across the deck just as she pulled the hatch door closed. The boat rocked, she held onto the table until it settled into a steadier movement. Rain drummed against the outside of the boat, reverberating throughout the cabin.

  Maybe meeting Patrick here wasn’t such a good idea after all. She hadn’t counted on the rain moving in quite this early. What if he changed his mind because of it? She couldn’t leave now, in case he did show. She pressed her hands together and closed her eyes. He had to show. The storm was expected to pass through the area tonight, and Chase would leave in the morning. She looked through the tinted glass cover, but the rain obliterated her view. She’d told him to come down to the cabin, so he’d probably burst through that door any second.

  She hoped.

  Ten minutes later, she also hoped she wasn’t going to get sick. Throwing up on Patrick wasn’t on her list of ways to engender his help. Meeting him on the boat was definitely not a good idea, with it rocking and moving, rocking and moving, back and forth…She clamped her hand over her mouth and concentrated on something else.

  Another twenty minutes passed, and she wondered how long she should wait until deciding she’d been stood up. The sound of the rain had changed. Not changed, exactly, but added a new element, a rushing sound like a waterfall. The water was getting rougher. The storm was obviously getting worse, and maybe that’s why Patrick hadn’t shown up. The boat constantly shifted now, rolling so hard, she had to grab onto the table. She used it to guide her to the steps. Rain beat an ominous tattoo on the tinted plastic of the hatch door.

  Only two things would get her to open that hatch. One was Patrick’s arrival. The other was the complete lack of lights at the marina. Beyond the rain-soaked plastic was a darkness that made no sense unless the electricity had gone out. She readied herself to get drenched again, sliding into the bulky jacket. Wind and rain stung, forcing her to close her eyes against it. She covered her face and blindly climbed out. The boat rocked and sent her sprawling across the cockpit. She tried to face away from the rain, but it seemed to come from all directions. The wind was gusting hard enough to throw her against the side of the cockpit.

  Her heart picked up a beat. Something was wrong. The boat was moving. Not just rolling and tilting, but moving. But that was impossible. The sails weren’t up, and she couldn’t hear an engine. Or could she?

  The electricity hadn’t gone out; muted light glowed in the distance. In the distance? No, it had to be the rain distorting her senses. She crawled to the edge of the deck, holding onto the safety lines. The furious ocean sped past them.

  They were moving.

  She and the boat, bouncing against a confused mass of waves, all by themselves. She let out a scream of disbelief and terror.

  CHAPTER 24

  “I haven’t sailed in this kind of weather in years!” a man’s voice said from behind her.

  Maddie swiveled around to find Allister raising one of the smaller sails; the storm jib, she thought. He’d bypassed the hari-kari look and gone straight to crazy. “Nothing like riding into the storm to clear a man’s mind and remind him his problems aren’t that bad after all.”

  The rain may as well have turned to icy sleet. “What are you doing? There’s a hurricane out there!” she screamed over the wind.

  He started pulling his way toward her, using wires and lines to keep his balance. “It’s not going to become a hurricane until it moves north tomorrow.”

  She looked behind them, seeing the telltale foam from an unseen engine. Even now she could barely hear it.

  Allister jumped down into the cockpit area. “Ah, the beauty of a quiet genset.” He cut the engine.

  She scrambled away from him, feet sliding against the deck, fingers numb as she kept holding onto whatever she could find. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for her to go. “Stay away from me!”

  “Maddie, where are you going to go? Overboard, if you’re not careful.”

  As if to make his point, the boat heeled over as a wave hit it broadside. She lost her hold and fell. Obviously more used to being on a boat under sail, Allister kept his balance. And grabbed her.

  She tried to struggle, but he’d taken her by surprise. That, combined with the paralyzing fear that she had been about to go overboard, sapped her strength. Thunder rocketed through the darkness. She was sure she’d been dropped straight into hell. The seas roiled and foamed all around them, spitting up spindrift like a thousand mad dogs.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked as he maneuvered them to the cockpit.

  He looked mad in the cast of the running lights. His silver hair was plastered to his face, and his eyes were eerily peaceful. “You were going to talk to Patrick. I knew what you were going to tell him, and I couldn’t take the chance.”

  She tried not to notice the mixture of pain and resignation on his face. “Patrick knew? About you and Julie?”

  His hold lessened slightly, but not enough to elicit hope of escape. “He didn’t know I was seeing her, no. But he saw her at the estate one morning. He’d stopped by unexpectedly and caught us together. Luckily, she’d only just arrived and pretended that she’d been looking for him. He didn’t suspect a thing. And he wouldn’t, unless you told him your story. Patrick told me you’d called him and wanted to meet. I told him you were still desperately trying to concoct some alibi for Chase and to not waste his time talking to you. Patrick always does what I say.”

  He seemed calm, holding onto her arm with one hand, the wheel with the other.

  “Are you…going to kill me?”

  “I’m not a murderer, not intentionally. But I’m too close to saving everything to have you throw it off. Tomorrow Chase will leave, you’ll be gone, and Patrick will continue to drive Augustine Aero into the future. Nothing will change. It’s for the best, don’t you see?”

  “Not for me!”

  “I’m sorry,” he said as his hand slid up around her throat and his fingers tightened.

  She kicked and struggled, but she was no match for his strength. She tried to speak, to plead or reason, but she could barely breathe. He was looking right at her, his face still that mask of regret and resignation. All she could do was look into his eyes and hope the sight of her death haunted his dreams. Black spots danced in front of her, obliterating Allister’s face.

  She felt her knees give way, and she tumbled to the cockpit floor in a lifeless heap. Except that she wasn’t lifeless. I’m still thinking. Can I think if I’m dead? Can I be coughing and gasping for breath if I’m dead?

  When she’d gathered in enough air to think rationally again, she looked up at Allister. He was staring at hands still poised in a choking position. The boat tilted, and he staggered toward her. Even while he grabbed onto the edge of the cockpit, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from his hands.

  “I can’t do it,” he said in a voice that barely overrode the sound of the seas around them. “I am impotent. Even with so much at stake, I can’t do it.” Then he looked at her, this time with only resignation in his eyes. Resignation at his failure.

  “Because…” She coughed, trying to clear the burning from her throat. “you’re not a murderer. You killed Julie in self-defense. And they’ll believe you. The police, Patrick…they’ll believe you.”

  “What kind of father am I, to let his own son ta
ke the blame for something he did? To sleep with his other son’s fiancée? You see, no matter what, everything is lost. I am a coward.”

  Maddie pulled herself to her feet. “Then do something about it! You can still make this right.”

  Allister stared past her, a blank look in his eyes. Maddie couldn’t see much beyond the confines of the boat for the blinding rain. Land was lost to them, and the wind pushed them faster and farther from hope. Allister spit out water and wiped the rain out of his eyes. He set the autopilot. “Go down below.”

  She slipped and scrambled to the hatch, then climbed inside. Turning to quickly shut it behind her, Allister pushed in behind her, oblivious to her efforts. The relative calm and quiet inside the cabin made her ears ring. She was shivering, as much from being there as from being soaked. But she wasn’t ready to give up yet. She started flipping switches to turn on the radio equipment, then saw mounted above the navigation station something that looked like a cell phone. While Allister re-latched the door, she grabbed for the device. As she frantically searched for the proper buttons, she realized it wasn’t a phone at all.

  “Give me that.” Allister grabbed it from her. “You’re not going to give anyone our position, so you don’t need the GPS.” He opened one of the portholes and threw it out, then took a seat at the navigation table.

  Someone spoke over the VHF, giving coordinates in a staticky voice. Allister reached in the folds of his raincoat, desperately searching for something. She didn’t know what to expect from him now. He finally dug out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and inhaled as though it was his last breath.

  “We can still make this right,” Maddie said. “Call for help.”

  “Yes, it will be all right.” Those were the right words, but they sounded dead as they came out of Allister’s mouth. He took another deep drag from his cigarette, making Maddie cough. “There’s something noble about dying at sea. That’s what counts, you know. Nobility. Integrity. Even when Chase disappeared under questionable circumstances, people still regarded him with respect. Fighting a losing battle with Mother Nature is cleansing. It’s the only way I can redeem myself. Then I won’t have to face that look of betrayal on Chase’s face again. Or on Patrick’s.”

  “You’re serious,” she said through a tightened throat made scratchy by smoke. “About dying out here.”

  The waves pounded against the boat like a thousand angry mobsters. We want Maddiestein! Send her out to us! She blinked, eradicating the voices in her head. Stay calm. This isn’t happening. “Okay, call me selfish, but what about me? If you die in a shroud of nobility and mystery, then I die, too.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  She was paralyzed by fear and isolation. The relentless seas pounded them from the outside. Worse, she knew next to nothing about sailing, other than the few tidbits Barnie had told her over the years. She shoved her numb hands into her pockets and felt Chase’s gold cross. She squeezed it in her palm and prayed, Help me, God.

  The waves lifted the boat, then dropped it with gut-shattering thuds. They both held onto the wooden handrails above them. Dread mounted, building pressure inside her. Fear rippled across his expression. He had to change his mind. Being pummeled to death wasn’t really a good way to die. Or drowning. She swallowed hard just before being thrown against the ladder.

  Her stomach lurched as the boat lifted, then dropped into the trough of a wave. They were being hit on all sides, or at least it felt that way. Rocked and bumped and crushed under wave after wave. When the boat lifted up even higher than before—Maddie counted the seconds—and then dropped to the side, it sounded like half the ocean had been dumped down onto them. Another wave slammed into their starboard side, pushing the boat over so hard that everything inside, including Maddie and Allister, went flying. She was sure the boat was going to roll completely over. Her body hit the side of the navigation table, and she landed on top of Allister. Part of her brain suggested trying to overpower him, but her aching body reminded her that she probably weighed about half as much as he did.

  Books, charts, and other debris showered down on them. And then, for a moment everything went quiet. At least as quiet as it had been, considering the thrashing waves outside. Something round was digging into her hip, and she reached around to dislodge it as Allister pulled himself out of the heap of books and found his cigarette pack.

  She was laying on the VHF radio mike. The cord coiled down from the radio’s mounting and pointed down at her, though other wires and cords also dangled all over. Her heart was now firmly lodged in her throat.

  Slowly, very slowly, the boat creaked as it righted itself. Maddie held on tight as gravity tried to throw her away from the side of the cabin wall. She pressed the mike to her back.

  When she’d gotten used to the relative calm compared to the knockdown, the boat was slammed to its side again. Allister had just gotten himself back into his seat at the table when it hit. He was thrown over the table this time, and Maddie tumbled into a heap beneath the table. She quickly crawled back out again, positioning herself with the mike behind her. She just needed a chance, a few seconds. But with Allister right there, how would she ever hail a mayday? As soon as she uttered anything, he’d snatch it from her and do God-knows-what in retaliation. Sticking her up on deck would be worse than getting beaten by the waves down here. And besides, she had no idea where they were.

  “This is incredible!” he shouted triumphantly, once again retrieving his cigarette and sucking in a breath of it. “The power, the energy. Now I know why Chase loves chasing the wind, risking his life for glory.” His eyes were luminescent, and then he was jarred by the boat as it righted itself again.

  No sooner had it righted itself, then another wave knocked it down again. This time, water gushed in around the hatch. As the boat righted itself again, water poured from the deckhead and drenched them and the navigational table.

  “Allister Augustine, wouldn’t you like to experience it again?” she asked, watching the seawater drip down over the VHF radio mounted on the wall. “Another time, months from now? If we die out here, you won’t be able to. You didn’t murder Julie on purpose. Don’t you think the police will believe you? Isn’t it better that Patrick know she was trying to kill you and that you had to defend yourself, rather than him thinking Chase is a murderer? Rather than him knowing his father is dead and that he took an innocent woman with him? You’ll have both Julie’s and Maddie Schaeffer’s deaths on your head.”

  “Your death will not be on my head. I took the boat out, and you happened to be on it. There was nothing I could do about it.”

  No, but there was something Maddie could do.

  Chase was haunted by memories of the moment he realized his father wasn’t going to tell the police the truth. It’s for the best his father’s voice echoed louder than the sound of the rain beating against the window. The best…

  He understood Allister’s position, he really did. He had everything to lose. And as Allister explained, Chase had little to lose, especially since he’d already lost his memory—and his identity.

  Yet, Chase couldn’t explain the loss he felt whenever he thought of Maddie, though hadn’t he known he couldn’t love her the way she deserved? He felt the ache the way she’d described loving someone.

  He was back in the room he’d been held hostage in, though this time he wasn’t locked in. Until the storm passed, he had no place to go.

  He drifted into an uneasy sleep, dreams of being in a dark maze, then being locked away in a room. Someone was hammering on the window calling, Chase, wake up! A dark-haired man with teddy-bear features stood outside the window. Maddie’s in trouble!

  Chase jolted up and stared at the window. Rivers of rain washed down the glass, but no one was out there. Then again, no one could be standing out there because it was two stories up. And now that Chase thought about it, the guy looked dry. And familiar. Chills sprang up his body when he recognized the man’s face. It was the same guy who’d directed him
to Sugar Bay. Wayne Schaeffer.

  Chase stumbled down the stairs and found the nearest phone. Lila answered on the third ring. “Where’s Maddie?”

  “Chase, where are you?”

  “My father’s house. I need to talk to Maddie.”

  “She’s not here. I don’t know what’s going on, but she’s gone, Shades of Heaven is gone, she was going to meet Patrick at the boat, and I don’t know what to do!”

  “Slow down! What do you mean, she was meeting Patrick?”

  “She was going to meet him at the boat.”

  None of this made sense, especially if Maddie was supposed to be getting ready to leave. “I’ll call him.”

  “Wait! He’s…here.”

  It was making less sense by the second.

  “Chase?” Patrick said. “Maddie called me earlier and asked me to meet her at Shades of Heaven. I mentioned it to Dad, and he said she was still trying to find a loophole to clear you, and I should ignore her. I was going to, but then I thought that maybe you were on the boat, too, so I showed up at the docks. The boat was gone. I…came here.”

  Chase didn’t even bother to hang up, not that he could take a breath for the tightness in his chest. He raced upstairs to his father’s wing of the house but found it empty. Allister had let the bodyguards go that evening before he’d left the house to attend to some matter. Chase started looking through the drawers in his bedroom suite, tossing everything onto the plush carpet. His next stop was the kitchen with its banks of cabinets and drawers. Who else would know where the keys to his yacht were?

  “Chase!”

  Chase was startled by Patrick’s voice bouncing off the marble in the foyer. He nearly skidded across that marble when he raced to the foyer. “What are you doing here?”