Devonshire Scream

by Laura Childs

  “What?” Drayton asked. “What’s going on?”

  “Tidwell’s going to meet us at the Charleston Yacht Club,” Theodosia said. “He’s says he’s going to commandeer a Coast Guard ship if he has to.”

  “Dear Lord,” Drayton said, gripping the back of Theodosia’s seat. “It’s going to be an international incident.”

  Theodosia fought to coax more speed from her vehicle. She made a wide, careening turn onto Meeting Street, almost clipping the wrought-iron light standard on the corner. She trounced down on the accelerator and ran hard for two blocks, and then twisted left on Atlantic Street, chasing after the dark car.

  They whipped past the Featherbed House B and B and the historic Ramsey-Hay House, never losing sight of the car ahead, but never quite catching up to it, either.

  “Turning on East Bay Street now,” Grainger called out. “Yup, they’re headed for the yacht club.”

  Theodosia turned, too, whipping past White Point Garden. Past the row of cannons, the rose beds, the bandstand, and the spot where an old pirate gallows had once stood. Fog was starting to roll in now, little puffs that reminded her of dank, dirty clouds, and she was forced to curtail her speed as the moisture condensed on her windshield. Even with her wipers beating, it was getting difficult to see.

  “Parking lot up ahead,” Grainger said, pointing. “Watch out, don’t clip that signpost.”

  Theodosia cranked the steering wheel hard and shot into what was a practically deserted parking lot. A blue Toyota sat in one corner, a long, black car was hunkered in the opposite corner.

  “Is that the car? Is that the car we were chasing?” Drayton asked.

  “I think so,” Theodosia said.

  “Pull in tight behind it so you can block it,” Grainger advised.

  Theodosia rammed her Jeep up against the back of the dark car and sat for a split second, trying to collect herself. Then she jerked the key from the ignition and kicked open the door. “Let’s go!”

  It was a good two hundred yards down to the far pier, the length of two football fields, and they were all tired and winded when they finally arrived.

  “You see anything?” Drayton asked as they tentatively stepped out onto the wooden pier. A chill drizzle had started up, obscuring everyone’s vision.

  “It looks like Andros is still here,” Theodosia whispered. Between the bobbling masts and clanking halyards, she could see two large yachts sitting at the end of the pier. Music and lights and laughter had flowed freely from them last night, but tonight they were silent. “I think we’re in time. We just need to, you know . . . be careful and stay quiet.”

  They tiptoed down the pier, boards creaking beneath their feet, rain pattering down, the water splishing and splashing as it swirled around the boats that were moored there. They were hoping against hope that they could somehow steal on board Andros’s yacht and rescue Haley.

  But when they reached the far end of the dock, they saw . . . nothing. No kidnappers milling about, no crew ready to cast off lines, no sign of struggle, and no Haley. Just two dark yachts bobbing in the water. Apparently deserted.

  “They’re not here.” Drayton exhaled hard in disbelief.

  “Did we lose them during the chase?” Theodosia asked. She put a hand to her mouth, puzzled. “How could that have happened?”

  “I’m positive that was their car back in the parking lot,” Grainger said.

  A sudden, low, throaty rumble from a boat two piers over caught their attention. Then lights flashed on and lines were cast off amid a few mumbled shouts.

  “Oh no,” Theodosia cried as she gazed across a raft of bobbing boats toward the other dock. She couldn’t believe what was happening. “There’s a different boat. Haley must be on a different boat!”

  “It’s pulling away,” Drayton said, as the prow of a large yacht suddenly sliced into view.

  “Let’s go,” Grainger said. “Maybe we can catch it.”

  They rushed back down the long pier, ran through a small picnic area and past the Charleston Yacht Club’s clubhouse. Then they pounded out onto the dock where the ship had just pulled away.

  And it really had pulled away. A yacht at least fifty feet in length churned up a froth of water in its wake, the glow of its running lights slowly disappearing in the dark.

  “We’re too late,” Theodosia gasped as rain started to pour down harder. “She’s gone.”

  “If Haley really was on that boat,” Drayton said.

  “She’s on it,” Theodosia said. “I know she is. I can feel it.” She ground her teeth together and called out, “Haley!” It was a long, agonizing cry that barely hung in the air before it was muffled by the fog.

  “Now what?” Drayton asked.

  Theodosia’s shoulders slumped. “Now we try to call Tidwell again.” She reached a hand out. “Gimme the phone.”

  Drayton blanched. “I think it’s . . . still in your car.”

  “I’ll run back and grab it,” Grainger said.

  But before he could make a move, the loud, high-pitched blare of a horn pierced the air. The horn blatted again and then a brilliant bright light flashed on.

  “What on earth?” Drayton murmured as the light swooped sideways and suddenly shone directly on them, bathing them in a white glow and practically blinding them with its glare.

  Like a ghost ship emerging from a bank of fog, a Coast Guard ship suddenly and miraculously glided into sight. It was an RB-M, one of the new, sleek, forty-five-foot response boats used for search and rescue.

  Up on deck, a man’s voice, clearly enhanced by the aid of a loudspeaker, shouted down to them. “Stay where you are. Do not try to board us. We’re going to swing in close and attempt to pick you up.”

  Theodosia was awestruck. She didn’t know whether to dance or cry. “Oh my gosh, Tidwell really did it! The man actually commandeered a Coast Guard vessel!”

  The words were barely out of Theodosia’s mouth when Tidwell leaned out over the railing and hailed her. “Ahoy,” he called. Wind slicking back his hair, a yellow rain jacket billowing out around him, he gazed solemnly down at them. “How many?” he called out.

  “Three of us,” Theodosia called back. “Please hurry!”

  29

  With a loud clang, a metal ladder was slung over the side of the ship and Theodosia, Drayton, and Billy Grainger scrambled aboard.

  “I can’t believe you commandeered a ship,” Theodosia said to Tidwell. Her voice caught in her throat, tears of gratitude welled in her eyes.

  But Tidwell was completely focused on the task at hand. “Hang on,” he told them, “we’re going to heave about.”

  Grainger stepped up to Tidwell. “Is the boat that took off with Haley still in sight?”

  Nonplussed, Tidwell stared at Grainger. “Who might you be?”

  “Boyfriend,” Drayton said, as if that explained everything. And it probably did.

  “Kindly stay out of my way,” Tidwell said.

  Two Coast Guardsmen scrambled to put life jackets on Theodosia, Drayton, and Grainger. Then the ship’s motors revved to an ear-splitting pitch and they roared out into the deep waters of Charleston Harbor.

  Out on fairly open water, the wind and rain cut like a knife. They all huddled together next to the small wheelhouse. They were shivering like crazy and hanging on for dear life.

  Wind and rain stinging her eyes, Theodosia leaned sideways and caught sight of the boat they were chasing. It was dead ahead, but a long way ahead. She steadied herself and lurched over to a side railing where one of the Coast Guardsmen was positioned.

  The Coast Guardsman saw her fear and frustration and said, “Fast boat.” His name tag said BEATTY and he looked grim.

  “You think we can catch them?” Theodosia asked.

  “Lieutenant Commander’s pouring it on hard as he can,” Beatty said.

>   “But is this boat faster?”

  He gave a quick nod. “I think so. If he punches it all the way up to forty-five knots.”

  As minutes passed, and Theodosia hunched and held her breath, she saw that they were slowly but surely gaining on the boat directly ahead of them.

  Tidwell duckwalked his way over to her. “Who is it?” he asked her. “Who took the girl?” He was standing with his legs splayed apart like an old sea captain. His orange life jacket billowed out around him like a spinnaker.

  “I’m positive it was Luke Andros,” Theodosia said. “Here I thought he was going to go after the Fabergé egg, but he grabbed Haley and the ruby-and-diamond brooch instead.”

  “Ruby brooch?”

  Theodosia waved a hand. “It’s a long story. But at least the Fabergé egg is safe.”

  “Who says there isn’t another crew going after the egg?” Tidwell asked.

  His words sent Theodosia into a stunned silence. She’d never imagined that type of scenario. Was kidnapping Haley simply a plot to lure them all away from the Heritage Society? Was there a second crew waiting in the wings? A crew all set to go storming in and grab the Fabergé egg? If kidnapping Haley was just a distraction for the real smash-and-grab, then she had screwed up royally!

  Theodosia grabbed Tidwell by the front of his shirt. “You’ve got to get in touch with the Heritage Society!” she screamed. “Make sure everything is okay.”

  Tidwell frowned at her. “I just spoke to one of my men ten minutes ago.”

  “Call him again. Please.”

  “If it would make you happy . . .”

  “It really would,” Theodosia said.

  Tidwell disappeared into the wheelhouse while Theodosia kept watch on deck. Up ahead, to their right, were the lights of Fort Sumter. Once they passed that, there was nothing ahead of them but a dark expanse of Atlantic Ocean.

  And still they gave chase. Giant waves beat against the sides of the boat, thundering in her ears, keeping time with her heartbeat.

  Theodosia felt like they were going to chase them all the way to the Azores. Or the west coast of Africa. But no, that couldn’t happen. So where was Andros really headed? Up the inland waterway? Down to the Florida Keys or the Caribbean, where he could elude them among thousands of tiny islands? No, the Coast Guard wouldn’t let that happen. She had faith in them.

  Tidwell came back out on deck.

  “What’s happening at the Heritage Society?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Tidwell said.

  “Thank goodness.”

  • • •

  Little by little, they were catching up. Even Drayton clutched at the railing to watch.

  “They’re doing it, by george,” he said. “We’re catching up.”

  “Pulling closer,” Theodosia said.

  When they were little more than fifty yards back, Lieutenant Commander Barley gave a hand signal and a Coast Guardsman standing in the prow of the ship shone a bright spotlight on the boat ahead of them. Then Barley got on the horn and ordered it to pull over, by order of the United States Coast Guard.

  The boat carrying Haley kept churning away.

  “Try to pull up to their starboard side,” Tidwell yelled above the roar of the engines and the pounding of the rain. “Try to force them over toward shore.”

  “We have to be careful,” one of the Coast Guardsmen warned. “There are dangerous shoals over there.”

  “Do it anyway,” Tidwell snarled.

  The Coast Guard ship cut just right of the boat and then jigged a hard left, almost pulling up alongside.

  “Throw some more spots on that ship,” Barley ordered.

  Two bright spotlights split the air and then suddenly converged on the back of the boat.

  Like a key light bursting on in a stage play, Haley was suddenly silhouetted in the back of the boat. She was waving her arms wildly at them.

  “There she is!” Theodosia called out. “We’ve got to get her.”

  Suddenly, someone grabbed Haley from behind and tried to pull her down.

  “Oh no,” Theodosia said as she watched Haley struggling with a dark figure.

  The Coast Guard boat jigged left and smashed up against the yacht.

  “Push in a little closer if you can,” Theodosia cried out. She was hoping they could toss a line onto the runaway yacht, try to hook it like an ornery steer.

  The spotlights from high atop the Coast Guard ship scoured the darkness and then converged again on the two figures.

  “Look at Haley!” Drayton yelled out. “She’s fighting like crazy.”

  “Dear Lord,” Theodosia cried, swelling with pride as she watched. “She’s managed to break free.”

  Then, suddenly, they saw Haley spin around and run toward the figure she’d just been struggling with. The two figures morphed into one as they grappled with each other at the very back of the boat. Then, slowly, horrifically, they both toppled over the railing and into the ocean!

  “Man overboard,” cried one of the Coast Guardsmen.

  • • •

  “There are two people overboard!” Theodosia cried. “We don’t care about the kidnapper, but we’ve got to rescue Haley as fast as possible.”

  Now the lights were aimed at the frothing sea where two heads bobbed in the choppy waters.

  “There she is,” Theodosia cried as a Coast Guardsman tossed two life preservers directly at the struggling figures.

  Haley immediately grabbed one of the rings and wrapped an arm around it. The Coast Guardsman quickly pulled up the slack and began to reel her in.

  “I think he’s got her,” Theodosia said.

  “Of course he has,” Tidwell said. But he was grinning happily.

  “They’ve got her, really?” Drayton asked.

  “Here she comes,” Theodosia said. She could see Haley at the side of the boat, reaching a hand up as one of the Coast Guardsmen bent down to grab her.

  “Now for Andros,” Tidwell said, as one of the Coast Guardsmen struggled to reel in the second person.

  “Andros,” Theodosia spat out. “They ought to just let him flounder out there. Wait for him to swim ashore like a drowned rat and then put the cuffs on him.”

  Drayton scurried to the fore of the boat and huddled right behind one of the Coast Guardsmen who was manning the lines. He stared into the choppy waters, did a kind of double take, wiped at his eyes, and then gestured wildly for Theodosia to come up and join him.

  Haley was just being hauled up the side and into the boat.

  “Is she okay?” Theodosia called out.

  “I’m okay,” Haley said as soon as she caught sight of them. She was soaked to the bone and her teeth chattered like castanets. “I’m wet and freezing to death, but I’m okay.” She seemed fairly calm, in spite of the fact that she’d just been hauled out of the water like a wounded sea turtle.

  “Can somebody please wrap a towel around her?” Theodosia asked. “For goodness’ sakes, we don’t want her to get hypothermia.”

  One of the Coast Guardsmen quickly shook open a Mylar thermal blanket and wrapped it tightly around Haley’s shoulders. “This is better,” he said. “It’s reflective so it’ll trap her body heat.”

  “Look at this,” Drayton cried out. He was pointing at the other figure who was being hauled in roughly. “Look what got dragged up in the nets.”

  Theodosia leaned over the railing and strained to make out the struggling figure. In the dark mist, it was hard to see just who it was. But whoever they were, they were angry as hell. She could see legs churning and arms waving. Was it Luke Andros? Was he the one who’d tried to spirit Haley away and then planned to drop her overboard without a second thought? Probably. Well, she’d have a few choice words for him. And if they made anyone’s ears turn red, then too bad.

  “Here they
come!” Drayton yelled.

  Theodosia pushed her way closer to where two Coast Guardsmen struggled to pull a body over the railing.

  “That’s it,” one of them yelled. “Get under his arms.”

  Theodosia waited, teeth practically bared, ready to unleash her anger on Luke Andros. She’d take care of Sabrina, too, once they’d finally corralled that runaway boat.

  “Here we go!” the second Coast Guardsman called out.

  “Like a lunker on a hook!” Drayton cried. He flung his arms up in the air, like a referee signaling a touchdown.

  A body tumbled over the side of the boat and fell, kersplat, onto the heaving, wet deck of the Coast Guard ship.

  Theodosia lurched forward angrily. This was the jerk who’d kidnapped Haley in order to steal the ruby-and-diamond brooch. Probably the same mastermind who’d engineered the robbery at Heart’s Desire, and then run like a weasel in the night as Kaitlin lay dying.

  “Let me through!” Theodosia cried. Three Coast Guardsmen stepped back as she kicked the pointy toe of her high heel at the person who lay heaving on the deck.

  “Uhh,” moaned the figure. An arm raised up and Theodosia could see a faint tattoo mark on the wrist.

  “How dare you,” Theodosia began. “How dare you . . .” Before she could say one more word, the pathetic figure spit out a glut of water and turned its weary head to stare at her.

  Theodosia rocked back on her heels, her mind reeling in disbelief. All she managed to blurt out was, “Grace? Is that you?”

  30

  They all huddled on the deck of the Coast Guard ship. Theodosia with an arm around Haley, Drayton on her other side, Billy Grainger standing right behind Haley, gently kneading her shoulders.

  Grace Dawson had been tied up and was being guarded belowdecks. Two of her minions had also been captured and a Coast Guardsman had taken the wheel of Grace’s yacht and was guiding it back to the harbor.

  “It was Grace all along,” Theodosia said. “She was the one who had the gang. Pity we only caught two of them when we stopped their ship.”