Against the Tide

by Melody Carlson

  “We’ll have to make a run for the Jeep. The driver’s side is away from them. You stay low and get over there and unlock it while I back you up from here. As soon as you’re inside, start the engine and I’ll sprint over and jump in.” Fortunately, the Jeep was only about ten feet from the garage. Still, it felt like fifty yards as she raced for the driver’s door. Thanks to her trembling hands, it took longer than it should’ve to get inside and start the engine. But Garret seemed to literally fly over, jumping inside just as she put it in Reverse, backing right onto the lawn. Then, spinning it around, she tore off down the driveway and toward the old river road.

  “The sedan on the road has seen us,” Garret told her. “They’re coming fast. Step on it.”

  Without speaking, she ran the Jeep through the gears and sped to the end of the beach road. Most people assumed the road ended there. The driver of the sedan was probably no different.

  She had to slow down to turn off the beach road, but as the tires hit the sand and rocks, she put it into four-wheel drive and, thankful that Dad had been her driving instructor, she stepped on it again.

  “You’re doing great, Megan. Go!”

  She pushed the Jeep as fast as it could safely go, praying that they wouldn’t bounce off the bumpy road and wind up in the river where it looked like the tide was heading out.

  When they finally had what seemed a cautious distance behind them, Megan slowed down a bit and glanced into the rearview mirror.

  “They’re not following,” Garret said. “But we’re not out of harm’s way. All a person needs to do is check a GPS to see where this road ends.”

  “Where’s that?” She held tightly to the steering wheel, trying to keep the Jeep on the bumpy road.

  “Less than a mile from the marina. It won’t take a genius to figure out where we’re going.” Garret was on the phone now, talking to Detective Greene, telling him they had the evidence and where they were headed. “If you could meet us there, we would appreciate it.”

  Megan continued pushing the Jeep, eager to get to the marina where the police would meet them. Although she felt a sense of accomplishment for how they’d gotten into her dad’s house and nabbed that envelope, she didn’t want them to play the heroes in this scenario. She would be happy to hand off the evidence to the police.

  “I still can’t believe we got it,” she said.

  “Want me to make sure it’s the real deal?” Garret offered.

  “Yes, please, do.”

  In no time he confirmed it was Rory’s research packet.

  “I will only turn it over to the police if they promise to let me have a copy. I need to finish what my dad started.” And then she would get on with her life. Whatever that meant. She wasn’t completely sure. Something about being back in her beloved little seaside town...and something about Garret...made her question returning to Seattle. But there was no time to examine those doubts now.

  By the time they reached the end of the old river road, Megan felt like her brain had been seriously rattled by all the bumps.

  “I thought the cops were meeting us here,” she said.

  “I did, too. But maybe they’re at the marina.”

  So she hightailed it to the marina, hoping that Detective Greene and other cops would be waiting for them. But when she spied the marina from the road, the parking lot by the store looked barren.

  “Huh?” Garret looked all around. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know.” She glanced at him. “What should I do?”

  “We’ll go in and wait for them.” Garret shook his head. “At least there are no black sedans waiting for us.”

  “Yeah. That’s something.”

  “You must’ve driven even faster than they expected,” Garret said as she turned in at the marina. “Nice work. Park in front of the store for now. I’ve been worried about Wade. I want him with us. Then we’ll park the Jeep by the house and hole up there.”

  Megan felt relieved as she parked right next to the store. “We made it.”

  “You did great,” Garret told her. “Give Greene a call. Tell him we’ll be in the house. I’ll be back in less than a minute.” He jumped out and ran to the store.

  Garret had just stepped into the store when Megan felt icy fingers tightening around her throat. She turned to see a familiar-looking man outside the Jeep. He’d stuck his hand through the cut part of the Jeep’s soft top.

  “Come on out, Miss McCallister,” he said in a sinister tone, waving a revolver with his other hand. “And bring your bag with you.”

  Before she could respond, he whipped open the door, jerked her out and grabbed the bag with the envelope. Then, twisting her left arm painfully, he shoved the barrel of his gun into her ribs, thrust her bag into her free hand and commanded her to walk down the dock.

  “You’re the guy at Marco’s restaurant,” she said suddenly. “You’re Kent Jones. Garret’s employee.”

  Ignoring her, he just kept forcing her down the dock. She desperately tried to think of something—some way to catch him off guard and escape.

  “Garret told me that you had access to my dad’s boat,” she said as he pushed her along.

  “I had access to all the boats.” He stopped by a midsize fishing dory.

  With one big shove, he pushed her into the boat. Megan landed on her back next to some gas cans, but quickly struggled to her feet only to discover he was on deck, too. With his revolver still pointed at her.

  “Down on the deck. Now! And keep your mouth shut or I’ll be forced to use this.” He waved his gun. Then he shoved her back down into a mess of coiled ropes. With one hand he hurried to pull in his line then started the motor. He grabbed her by the arm and forced her up to the bow, shoving her into a seat. “I want you next to me.” He gave her an evil grin. “Just like we’re on a hot date.” He chuckled creepily, then narrowed his eyes as he flashed his gun again. “But don’t move. And don’t get any ideas.”

  She was still clutching the bag with the precious envelope as the boat took off down the river—still trying to think of a way out of this mess. But first she wanted information. “You did something to my dad’s boat, didn’t you?”

  He feigned an innocent look as he steered the boat out into the thick fog.

  “You did, didn’t you?” she persisted, clutching her bag to her chest. “You made it sink. I know you did.”

  “Not me personally,” he said lightly. “But my gun helped out.” He snickered and waved his gun.

  “So you killed my dad?” She tried to keep her voice calm as if she was doing an interview for the paper.

  “Nah. That was someone else.”

  “Did they drug him?” she asked in a flat tone. “Poison?”

  “Something like that. Let’s just say ol’ Rory barely knew what hit him.”

  As Kent focused on getting the boat down the river, she began to formulate a plan. A plan which might or might not work. Despite the thick fog, she could see that the current was moving at a good clip—because the tide was still going out. The good news was that the water level would be low. If she could jump out on the starboard side, she might be able to swim underwater long enough to make it to the shallows where Kent wouldn’t be able to maneuver his boat. Although since it was a dory, he might be able to go farther than she expected. But hopefully, the fog would help cover her while she swam for shore. Still, there was no time to waste. He was already beyond the marina.

  Clutching the bag to her chest, she slid out the envelope and slipped it into her parka as the gunman’s attention was fixed solidly on the fog-encased river. Then she called upon her acting skills. She made a gagging sound. “I’m gonna be sick!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” He turned to look at her and she gave her best imitation of nausea.

  “I’m seasick! I’m gonna thro
w up.” She threw her bag down on the deck, knowing she was leaving her phone and wallet behind, but knowing she couldn’t take it. Then cupping her hand over her mouth, she feigned an even louder gagging noise that sounded so real, she wasn’t sure she was faking. In fact, she honestly felt sick.

  Still gripping the helm, Kent scowled at her then tipped his head to the railing. “Don’t barf on my boat or I’ll make you clean it up.”

  She dashed over to the starboard side and, hanging her head over the railing, she made some loud and realistic noises while tightening the waist belt of her parka to secure the envelope and then, just as he turned the boat toward the middle of the river, she tumbled over the side. The shock of the cold water nearly sucked her breath away, but instead of surfacing like she wanted to do, she swam with all her might until she felt certain her lungs were going to burst.

  She gasped for air when her head finally emerged from the water, hoping that she’d gone far enough to escape him. But she could still see the dark outline of his boat and she could hear his engine rumbling not that far away. When a couple of gunshots splashed the water just a few feet from her, she took a fast gulp of air then ducked back under, praying for strength and help.

  But as she swam for what she hoped was the river’s edge, she felt nothing but the current moving her. And it was going even faster than she’d expected. If Kent didn’t shoot her the next time she popped up, she would probably be pulled out into the ocean. Not that she would last that long with these water temps. Begging God for help, she swam as hard as she could, but she knew that when she surfaced, Kent would probably be even closer, his gun ready to stop her.

  TWENTY

  Garret felt a rush of alarm to see Megan was no longer in Rory’s Jeep. Where had she gone? He’d been in the store less than a minute, calling for Wade, who appeared to be missing, as well. Had they both gone to the house together? He was about to go see when he heard someone yelling.

  “Hey!” a male voice called out. “Over here!”

  Garret peered through the fog, trying to see the man waving at him from the dock.

  “Somebody’s hurt!” the man yelled.

  Thinking it was Megan, Garret ran down toward him. “Who is it?” he demanded. “What happened?” As he got closer, he saw the caller was Mike Fowler, an older guy who docked his boat here.

  “I don’t know,” Mike said, leading Garret to the end of the dock. “I was working on my boat when I heard someone moaning and groaning. He’s right there.” Mike pointed down at a small fishing boat.

  Garret looked down to see Wade rubbing his head with a bewildered expression. “What happened to you?” He climbed in to help Wade to his feet.

  “Kent showed up.” Wade wobbled a little as he stood. “Had a gun. He made me come down here then he whacked me on the head. That’s the last I remember.”

  Garret turned back to Mike. “Did you see anything?”

  Mike shrugged. “I sure didn’t see that.”

  “But did you see anyone on the dock?”

  Mike rubbed his chin. “Yeah, there was a man and woman just a little bit ago.”

  “Did the woman have reddish hair?” Garret demanded.

  “Yep. She sure did. Pretty, too.” He described the man, and Garret knew it was Kent.

  “Where did they go?”

  “I went below before they got down this far. But I did hear a boat take off. Thought that was odd since we’re so fogged in. Who’d wanna go fishing on the river now? And with the red-flag warning, no one in his right mind would head for the ocean but it did sound like they went downriver.” He grimly shook his head.

  “Give me a hand with him,” Garret commanded Mike, and together they got Wade onto the dock. “Take him to the store and call 911. Explain what happened and that I went after the boat. Tell them to send out the coast guard.”

  Mike nodded as he supported Wade. “So this is serious?”

  “Oh, yeah!” Garret turned away, running for his boat. He jumped in and within two minutes he was pulling away from the dock and heading downriver. Mike was right. This was no day for fishing or going on the ocean. But there were a number of coves and home docks between here and the sea. It was possible Kent had taken Megan to one of those spots to lie low.

  Garret prayed as he navigated down the river. Barely able to see in what his grandma would have called pea soup, he couldn’t go fast. He knew the odds of finding Megan were minuscule, and so as he trolled along, he prayed. After he prayed, he had to ask himself questions. Why would Kent kidnap Megan? She must’ve had Rory’s envelope on her. Why not just steal that and let Megan go? Except that she would’ve seen him and could identify him. And in that case, what would Kent do with her? Garret hated to think about that. Better to focus on finding her. That meant finding Kent’s boat.

  The low tide was starting to ebb now, making the water fairly smooth and calm. Garret turned off his motor to just listen, hoping to pick up the sound of Kent’s motor and head in that direction. But he heard nothing but the water slapping against the side of the boat as the current carried him along. Was it possible that Kent had taken his dory over the bar? The ocean wasn’t really that rough today, but visibility was terrible. Of course, Kent could land his dory on any sandy stretch of beach. And thanks to the weather, Garret’s chances of finding him were about zero.

  As his boat continued drifting downriver, Garret thought he could maybe hear the low rumble of a boat motor. He strained his ears to listen. Was it possible that Kent was nearby? And where was the coast guard?

  Garret looked downriver, trying to see the form of a small boat. He knew that Kent, like him, wouldn’t be using his running lights. Garret patted his revolver, thankful he’d strapped it on before going to lunch. He considered starting his motor again, but knew that noise would draw unwanted attention. If Kent was up ahead, it would be better to slowly sneak up on him. But what then? A shootout would endanger Megan.

  Garret noticed a floating log up ahead. Not so unusual this time of year, but not something a boater wanted to encounter. It could wreak havoc on propellers. Not that he was concerned since his motor wasn’t running, but he didn’t want to risk the sound of the floating log clunking against his metal hull. So he reached for a paddle and, leaning over the starboard side of the bow, he was prepared to push it away with the paddle.

  But as he got closer, he realized this was not just a log. There was something blue on it. And as he got even closer, he realized it was a woman. “Megan!” he said in a hushed voice. Her head popped up and their eyes locked. “Be quiet,” he warned as he went to grab a line. “Catch this,” he instructed as he prepared to throw it to her.

  It took several tries, but she eventually got it and he quickly pulled her toward his boat, thanking God with each tug. “Try to be quiet,” he said as he reached for her hands to hoist her onto his boat.

  “Thank God,” she mumbled as they embraced. She was white as a sheet and shivering with cold as he helped her to a seat. He removed his own coat, wrapping it around her. And then he went to a stowage bench where he dug out an emergency blanket, wrapping that over her, as well. “Get low,” he whispered. “I can hear a motor running nearby. I’m guessing it’s Kent.”

  She nodded and, following his instructions, got down on the deck. Huddling with the coat and blanket still around her, she looked like a small, frightened child, and everything in him wanted to get down beside her to comfort her. But he knew if they were going to make it out of this, he needed to move—and move fast.

  “I’m going to have to run my engine now,” he quietly explained as he got ready to start it. “It’ll make some noise so I’m going to gun it and really take off. But I know that Kent’s dory has a big engine. I’m guessing he’ll follow.”

  She nodded with wide eyes. “He’s got a gun.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” He leaned d
own to look into her eyes. “Pray for us, Megan.” And then he kissed her forehead and felt relieved to see her smile. Then he started his engine. To his relief it started without a hitch. He went for the helm and immediately turned the boat toward the marina. But with only his compass to guide him, he couldn’t be positive.

  He heard the other boat engine revving and he knew that Kent would be in hot pursuit, but he hadn’t expected him to get here so quickly—or to be so close to the town side of the river. Garret knew that Kent was trying to cut him off by positioning himself between Garret and the marina.

  He tried to think as he pushed his boat even faster. There was no way he was going to outrun Kent. And now he could see the dark outline of Kent’s dory on the leeward side, quickly catching up. Garret felt like they were a sitting duck now and, just as he suspected, Kent began to shoot.

  Garret saw water starting to pour through the bullet holes and knew he needed to think fast. Suddenly, he remembered a spit of land on the other side of the river that was exposed at low tide. It was possible that Kent wouldn’t know about it. But with water coming in fast, there was little time to think.

  Garret gunned his engine to full throttle and took off across the river, hoping and praying that he was close to the spit, but knowing it was a long shot. The boat was filling fast, slowing down—and Kent was in fast pursuit. Garret pulled out his gun now and let loose with several shots, praying he’d hit Kent’s boat and it, too, would start filling with water. Naturally these shots were returned.

  “We’re gonna have to jump,” Garret told Megan as he turned the boat upriver. “Think you can swim again?” She leaped to her feet, joining him in the bow as he used a line to secure the helm to keep the boat headed upriver.

  “The boat goes one way and we go the other,” he quickly explained as he took her hand, leading her to the side. “Ready?”

  Together they went over the railing and into the fast-moving cold water. Meanwhile, Garret’s boat continued upriver. As more shots were fired, it was clear that Kent was not giving up. And based upon the shots splashing into the nearby water, Garret felt certain Kent had spotted them. No way could they outswim the dory! And with little visibility and no sign of land nearby, Garret didn’t know if they’d even jumped out in the right spot. Were they about to die together?