by J. S. Luxor
“Is that what this red dot means on Matt’s map?”
“Yes, Ms. Pine, that’s our current physical location. Your ring is the source.”
“Maybe Matt’s had himself or Rush chipped. Where would we even begin to look?”
“Let’s look through his apps and see if there’s some indicator,” Cane suggests with an indulgent smile.
Then we begin to check the IPhone’s screen systematically. Unfortunately, there are so many icons and so many pages of them that it takes quite a while to search. I’m not even sure about what most of them mean. Finally, I spot a customized app that has an S on it.
“What about this one, Cane? Could the S stand for Security, Superman, or even Steele?”
“Let’s click it and see,” he huffs with eager enthusiasm.
This app also shows some sort of map and there’s another blinking green dot on it. The indicator appears to be across town. “Can you check what the location happens to be?” I ask with hope.
“It’s down by the pier,” Cane adds and then pulls me by the hand toward the SUV.
“Shouldn’t we stay at the scene of the crime and wait for the police to show up?” I question.
“Not if Matt Frazier’s in some sort of danger. I can’t leave you here and unprotected. Let’s go, now,” he insists. I jump in the passenger side of the vehicle as Cane speeds us away from Michael’s dead body.
Cane weaves through traffic like an invulnerable teenager who’s had too much to drink. I try dialing Rush’s phone number and even texting several times to no avail while we head to the water. We arrive at the pier within fifteen minutes. We also spot Matt’s yacht resting peacefully in her slip. The area’s quiet and deserted at this time of day. Also, it’s midweek and most people aren’t on their boats until the weekend.
The boat’s location and the indicator on the phone appear to be identical. Maybe it’s just Matt’s way of keeping track of his goodies and we’ve made the trip to the yacht club for no good reason. However, the S symbol doesn’t make sense unless it stands for sailing. Hmmm.
Once parked, we walk quickly to where his boat is docked and call out both Rush’s as well as Matt’s name as we jump on deck. At first it seems we’re engaged in some futile gesture. After a minute or two of pounding and calling out names, however, I hear a thumping sound.
“Cane, do you hear and feel the pounding below deck?”
“I do now. Good job, Megan,” he responds with newfound energy while trying to pick the lock on the door leading to the galley and living areas below deck.
“Matt, we’re here baby, don’t worry,” I cry out while listening to the now steady sounds of someone kicking on the paneling beneath where we’re standing.
It seems to take forever before Cane and I find ourselves near the source of the vibrations inside. It’s coming from beneath one of the benches found in the living area of the yacht. I tap on the side of the wooden structure and call out Matt’s name. Cane’s trying to pry the top of the bench off with the blade of a thick metal knife that he uncovered under the galley’s sink. I look for and find a butter knife and start to work the other end of the coffin-like structure. Nothing’s really budging except slivers of wood.
“This bench must enclose a large metal box,” Cane deduces as he kicks away at the structure.
“Maybe there’s another lock on the side of this bench,” I infer while trying to think like Matt would about security and hiding places.
“Why don’t you look around for some keys and I’ll try to find out if there’s another lock?”
I check various pegs around the galley and eating areas of the boat but come up empty. Eventually, I notice a small set of keys hanging near the entry to our bathroom. Cane’s located a small lock at the far end of the bench and we start the process of trying to match the two. We get lucky with the second key.
When we open the top of the bench at last, we find my prize. Matt’s been tightly folded in half inside the four foot long metallic box but he’s conscious. His grey eyes burn with joy to see us. He’s gagged and bound at both the wrists and around his ankles. Cane and I work efficiently at undoing his shackles.
I manage to get Matt’s gag off first. He breathes with relish as we pull the cotton stuffing from his mouth. Cane cuts the plastic cuffs from Matt’s ankles and wrists while I massage his limbs. He must be numb and stiff from confinement in this tight space. It takes a few minutes before he’s able to recover.
“Oh, baby, how did you ever find me? Did you force Kingsfield to fess up?” Matt asks as soon as we’ve got him seated in an upright position on the bench.
“I had to shoot Michael, Matt. He’s dead,” Cane begins the tale. “Finding you actually involved a fair amount of luck combined with a creative mind. Megan’s mind that is.”
“So Michael actually got to you before you shot him?”
“He texted me with your phone, Matt, and asked us to meet at the site of your new construction project.” We briefly describe our deadly encounter with Kingsfield in the warehouse section of town before Matt fills us in on his crazed encounter with Michael.
“I was afraid of that when he took me out down here. He really fooled me.”
“How the hell did you end up trapped on your own boat?” Cane asks with an expression that can only be described as confounded.
“Also a combination of both luck and skill but this time it was really bad luck and also lack of skill,” Matt admits with an embarrassed grin.
“It all started with my plan to take Megan on a surprise excursion this weekend to Orcas Island. Since my regular fellow wasn’t available to stock and prep the boat and I had back to back meetings at work, I’d asked Rush to do it.”
“So, what happened, did Michael follow Rush to your boat?” I prod. Matt sits down on the other bench and pulls me onto his lap while Cane pulls up a nearby cushion. I’m rubbing Matt’s back gently with my hand while we speak.
“That’s what I’m guessing although I haven’t seen Jared or even heard him since I arrived here.”
“Then how did you manage to get to the pier by yourself?”
“I received a text from Rush telling me that something strange happened on the boat and that I should get out here pronto.”
“What strange thing did Rush tell you happened with the boat.”
“That it looked as if someone had broken into it and I needed to verify what might be missing.”
“Then you drove out here in your own car and walked into a trap that Kingsfield set?”
“Yeah. You know me. I’m always so anxious about protecting what’s mine. Before I left work, I checked the GPS to make sure that you and Cane were at SIP. You two looked to be in a safe place so I felt reassured. I never dreamed it was a set up to trap me. I just wanted things to go well this weekend with you, baby.”
“So you drove to your slip and got ambushed by Michael when you walked onto this boat?”
“As soon as I entered the galley, I felt something sting my neck. I think Kingsfield used a tranquilizing dart to disorient me. He probably shot it at me before I could orient myself to the darkness below deck. All I recall, before I passed out, was Kingsfield standing over me and laughing as I staggered toward the living area. I don’t know what happened to Rush. I just hope he wasn’t shot and tossed into the water.”
We look out the windows of Matt’s yacht but don’t see anything unusual floating nearby. I swallow and tear up to imagine that Jared Rush might have been killed here because of me. On the other hand, he might simply be hiding.
“Maybe Jared’s imprisoned in this other bench,” I offer as both Matt and Cane stare at me in wonder. We stand up immediately to investigate the contents inside the bench that we’re sitting upon. The same key that helped us free Matt works on this one.
We scramble to open the bench and as soon as we do, we find Rush. He’s still passed out from whatever drug Michael used to disarm Matt but he’s breathing. However, he’s gagged, cuffed and arr
anged in the same manner that my fiancé happened to be found.
“I wonder why you recovered from the dart tranquilizer before Rush did? And, thank goodness you did or we’d have never found you.”
“Kingsfield probably used more of the drug on Rush, given that he’s much broader than I am,” Matt reasons.
We concentrate on ungagging Rush and taking off his cuffs while attempting to pull him upright. It’s more than a struggle to do so.
“Holy hell, Rush’s one solid mass of muscle,” Matt comments while we pull and push Jared into a seated position.
When Rush finally regains consciousness, we discover that his ambush occurred in a similar manner to what Matt experienced. Jared thinks that Kingsfield hid on the deck of the boat near where the sails were stored and then shot him with a tranquilizer pellet when he was unlocking the door. He recalls that Kingsfield put him on a horizontal dolly just before he lost consciousness. Michael certainly seemed thorough in planning this part of the crime. The element of surprise certainly worked in his favor.
After we’ve exchanged stories about Michael Kingsfield’s elaborate plan to kidnap me or worse, we drive to the nearest police station. It time for us to report the crime and drop Cane off at a health clinic to have his wound treated.
“Hopefully, we’ve all learned a lesson from this adventure,” Matt admits once that’s done.
“Yeah, always verify an unusual text with a phone call,” I add and kiss my gorgeous man with ardor.
“You’re so right, Megan. That’s the one disadvantage of texting. At least with voice recognition during phone calls we have more confidence about the person who’s on the other end of the message.”
“All I can say is that I’m really pleased that Michael Kingsfield has left the planet. I just hope he doesn’t start haunting us from the grave.”
“May he rest in peace,” Matt concludes. Then it’s time for us to celebrate the beginning of our life together as a couple. We have truly and finally recovered from the past.
THE END.
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