“Emergency services,” an operator answered. “Please hold.”
Ben took the phone away from his ear, staring down at it in dismay. “Fuck,” he yelled, his blood pressure skyrocketing. He turned his attention back to Stephen. “Where did they go?”
“Toward the wharf,” Stephen said. His blue eyes widened. “You don’t think he’d go after Carly and James, do you?”
They both scrambled outside, looking past the edge of Shelter Island to catch a glimpse of America’s Cup Harbor. While they stood there, Ben with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to elevator music, a lone boat moved away in the distance, heading south.
“Holy Christ,” Stephen exclaimed. “That’s Destiny.”
Not Carly, Ben’s mind screamed. Please, not Carly. He searched the marina frantically, looking for a security guard, a uniformed officer, a man with an operating boat they could hijack. Anything. Anyone. But the place was deserted.
A soft rock instrumental continued to flow from the receiver into his ear. “Fuck!” he yelled again, not knowing which direction to run for help.
“I can hotwire this son of a bitch,” Stephen decided, stepping back inside Captain Trips. Ben followed eagerly, relieved to be in the company of a petty criminal.
As it turned out, there was no need to resort to extreme measures. JT had left the keys on the dash. “Thank you, Jesus,” Stephen said, kissing the key ring and fumbling for the proper key to fit the ignition. Before the operator responded to Ben’s emergency call, Captain Trips was out cruising.
It took almost ten minutes of stammered explanations and department transfers for Ben to get though to Special Agent in Charge Leland Grant.
“The Coast Guard is on its way,” Grant promised. “I’m working on air support. You have to back off now. I don’t want him to know he’s being followed.”
Up ahead of them, Destiny chugged along, tiny in the distance, the length between the two boats seemingly insurmountable.
“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Ben complained, ignoring Grant.
“I’m doing my best,” Stephen replied.
“Turn around now,” Grant repeated. “Let us do our job.”
“He wants us to back off,” Ben said to Stephen.
“Fuck that,” was the kid’s succinct answer.
Ben nodded. His sentiments exactly.
“This is a midshipman’s knot,” James whispered in her ear. “Looks tight, but if I give it three good tugs, you’ll be free.”
Carly was careful not to nod or make any verbal reply. JT’s hands were busy with Summer, but his eyes were on her. James was only able to get a few words in by hiding his mouth behind her hair as he bound her wrists.
“I love you,” he added before he stood.
Tears filled her eyes.
JT strung Summer up like fresh catch, securing the chain between her handcuffs to a hook on the mast. With her arms extended over her head, she was stretched taut, barely able to touch the deck with her tiptoes.
It looked painful. Carly would have hung her head and cried, but Summer stayed quiet, her breathing steady, almost meditative, her eyes flashing dull blue fire.
There was something different about her, something a little scary. Carly was both afraid to analyze the change and glad for it. Having another helpless, hysterical female on board wouldn’t have done them any good.
Carly couldn’t believe JT had killed her mom. She wanted to throw herself at him, to slap him and hit him and claw at his face. But her arms were pulled behind her back, rendering her motionless. Useless.
JT kept his gun against James’ ear while he navigated Destiny through the fog. Carly felt like a trapped bird, her heart hammering in her chest, her pulse fluttering against the coarse rope at her wrists. Her frantic mind searched for a possible escape route, but she couldn’t find any way out. She could only see flashes of her mother, images from the past mixed with the reality of the present, Summer’s stoic endurance and James’ inscrutable face.
They hadn’t gone far when JT asked James to cut the engine-and the lights. When James complied, JT moved the gun away from his head. For a long, restless moment, Destiny floated on dark, calm waters. The glow from the dash illuminated his face from below, casting jagged shadows above his brows and making him appear twice as sinister.
Carly held her breath, waiting for all hell to break loose.
Keeping his gaze on James, JT ran the muzzle of his gun down Summer’s front, popping open a few buttons on her blue sweater. Summer closed her eyes and held herself perfectly still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of struggling.
“You have nice tits for a butchy chick,” he murmured, pursing his lips.
Carly turned her head away from the disturbing scene, horrified by the idea that JT had touched her mother the same way. She hated herself for being cowardly, but she wanted to cover her ears and close her eyes, to curl up in a little ball and wish it all away.
“Leave her alone,” James growled.
JT smiled, pleased to have angered him. “Or what?”
“You know what. If you want to hurt someone, why don’t you try me?”
Carly didn’t like that suggestion, and neither did Summer. She kicked out, jerking her body forward, trying to dislodge herself from the hook she was hanging on. It was an exercise in futility, and it amused JT to watch her flail.
“Okay, pretty boy,” he said, turning to James. “I’ll try you.”
James blanched but he didn’t argue. “Away from them,” he stipulated.
JT laughed. There wasn’t a place on the boat they couldn’t be seen from the cab, but he waved his gun in a conceding gesture. “After you.”
That’s when Carly knew JT was going to kill him. Tears blurred her vision as she watched JT follow the boy she loved, the one who thought he was giving her a chance to live by sacrificing himself, through the cabin door.
On his way out, JT directed the gun toward Carly. “Don’t move,” he said, “or I’ll kill you next.”
James paused in the doorway, his throat working convulsively. She thought he wanted to say good-bye, but he only shook his head and kept going, as if the sight of her might weaken his resolve. Carly wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but when she opened her mouth, the only sound that came out was a strangled sob.
As soon as JT walked out on deck, Carly found her mettle. She tugged on the binding at her wrists, intent on freeing herself and following. The ropes didn’t budge.
“Help me,” Summer whispered, casting a nervous glance up front. “Come over here and get down on your knees.”
Tears streaming down her face, Carly scrambled over to the mast, kneeling before Summer like a worshipper of an Eastern religion. Summer’s heels dug into her back, hurting her, but Carly was glad to be of use. In a matter of seconds, the woman unhooked herself and fell forward, careening headfirst into the dash.
Stifling a whimper of dismay, Carly leapt to her feet, searching for the dark shapes of men at the bow. James was standing with his back to JT, ready to be executed.
Carly screamed.
Hearing her, JT turned his head toward the cab. James, seeing the opening, turned to fight.
His fist connected with JT’s chin.
Growling in pain, JT swung the gun at James, catching him hard across the left temple. Carly cried out again, tugging on the ropes around her wrists. They cut into her skin, stretching taut. She looked to the other woman for help.
Summer must have been hurting more than she let on, because she was still bent across the dash, breathing hard. Her hands were bone white and her lips a cold, chalky gray. “Don’t go out there,” she rasped.
Disregarding Summer’s warning as soon as it was issued, Carly ran out to help James. He was lying in a crumpled heap on the deck, a dark pool of blood seeping across the planks beneath his head. His eyes were closed and his body motionless.
“No!” she cried, wanting to drop to her knees beside him and weep. Instead, she narrow
ed her eyes on JT, seething. Driven wild by fear and grief, she lowered her head and ran toward him at full speed. Surprised by her sudden, armless attack, JT side-stepped at the last second, and Carly went sprawling over the edge.
She hit the water with a shocking slap. It enveloped her like an icy blanket, wrapping her in its inky depths. The temperature was so cold her heart almost stopped beating. Pinpricks of pain broke out over her skin, like a thousand tiny needles.
She jerked against the ropes, kicking furiously, feeling the stiff fibers cut into her skin. With her arms tied behind her back, the cold was the least of her worries.
James heard the splash as Carly went overboard. The sound was muffled by the pounding in his ears, or maybe it was just blood rushing into them. His head throbbed and his scalp was gushing like a gutted thresher.
He didn’t know how, or why, but he was conscious, and alive.
JT walked by him, probably to get back to putting his creepy hands all over Summer, or Special Agent Vasquez, whatever her name was. There was an awful ruckus in the cab. James didn’t like it, but he had other fish to fry.
Dragging himself forward, his movements slow as molasses, he pulled his uncooperative body to the starboard side, where Carly had gone over.
He could see bubbles on the surface. He blinked, staving off another wave of unconsciousness, feeling blood trickle down his neck. He wouldn’t be much good to Carly if he passed out the instant he hit the water. On the other hand, if he waited longer, he wouldn’t be any good to her at all.
With a low groan, he heaved his body over the rail.
The first contact with cold water was a shock to his tender skull. He couldn’t help but cry out in pain, sending a flurry of bubbles to the surface. White spots flashed behind his eyes, and he almost inhaled a lungful of seawater in his panic. Fortunately, he broke through the surface and sucked in air, clearing his head.
The water was alarmingly cold. Menacingly black. More bubbles appeared on the rippled surface, giving him a surge of hope. Praying for strength, and lucidity, he took another deep breath and dove down. The pressure was agonizing; his ears felt like they were going to explode. Salt water stung his eyes and cut into his scalp.
Somehow he found her. He knew she was still alive because he could feel movement in her body as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her toward the surface.
They came up together, panting.
“I can’t get my hands free,” she choked.
“I’ll do it.” Fumbling at her wrists, he tugged on the end of the knot. His fingers were so clumsy it took several tries to release her, and when he was done, he felt exhausted, as if he’d been wrestling sharks.
Speaking of sharks…
He eyed the dark water with trepidation, aware that his scalp was bleeding profusely. The contrast between warm blood and cold sea was marked.
Carly frowned at him, rubbing her sore wrists. Her wet hair was clinging to her cheeks and neck, and he could see her breath, puffing out in the crisp night air.
“Why did you jump overboard?” he said in a low voice, glancing back at Destiny. He couldn’t make out JT, but he was having trouble focusing. “Jesus Christ, Carly, that was…” He swallowed back his nausea. “That was…”
“Stupid?” she finished for him.
Treading water, he stared at her, trying to keep her in his sights. His limbs felt heavy, as if his clothes were weighted with bricks.
“James?”
Her voice sounded so far away. Although he struggled to stay there with her, the dark water lapped up over his head, beckoning him to oblivion.
Sonny slammed her hands against the dash, desperate to bring some feeling back to the useless appendages. There was a utility knife hanging by a scabbard above the dash. If she could just wrap her fingers around it…
On the deck, Carly launched herself at JT. A bold move, and a stupid one, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Unfortunately, JT had the devil’s own luck.
The girl missed him and fell overboard. To her certain death.
Sonny slammed her hands down again, tears of panic and frustration scalding her eyes. If she didn’t get out of these cuffs, she couldn’t help Carly. Or James. And to get out of the cuffs, she had to defeat JT.
Her fingertips tingled but it wasn’t enough. Her hands wouldn’t work and her rib cage was on fire, burning with every intake of breath. She couldn’t pull the knife from the scabbard-or maintain a grip on it, in any case.
“What’s this?” JT asked, coming into the cab. Pushing her aside with humiliating ease, he pulled the short knife from the leather sheath and looked at its wicked blade. “I was going to save the cutting for Carly.”
Staring at the serrated edge, Sonny backed away slowly, moistening her dry lips.
He tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, then tested the blade’s sharpness with his fingertip. “Ouch,” he said with a grin.
Outside, there was another splash. James!
JT flinched at the sound. “That sneaky son of a bitch,” he murmured, looking out into the dark and clucking his tongue in appreciation. “Well, now they’ll both drown.”
Sonny flexed her fingers, feeling blood returning to her cuffed hands. The pain was fierce and she smiled, relishing it. Carly and James were alive, God willing, and although they couldn’t climb aboard, or swim back to land, they could tread water until help arrived.
Which would be soon, as long as Grant had sent someone to look for her.
Now was the time to stall rather than fight. She retreated until her back hit the wood siding at the edge of the cab. “Did you have an affair with Olivia?”
“Yes,” he said, his cold eyes sweeping down her body once again. “And unlike you, she was a luscious piece.” He reached out and grabbed the chain between her wrists, holding her hands out of play while he touched the blade to her cheek. “Not that I won’t enjoy having you screaming and begging beneath me.”
She laughed at the idea, but it hurt so much she stopped. “What about Sheila?”
He studied her face, not amused by her bravado. “I may have”-he slid the tip of the knife down her chest-“thrown her a bone.”
Sonny focused on regulating her breathing. Every time she inhaled, she felt a sharp stab in her side. He may have bruised a few ribs when he kicked her. “Did she pretend you were Ben the whole time you were in bed together,” she panted, “or only when she came?”
JT’s eyes returned to hers. With a deft movement, he sliced her sweater in half, exposing her bra. “You’re a ballsy little bitch,” he murmured, nodding his approval. “It will be a pleasure to break you.”
Sonny drew in another shallow breath. JT was planning to rape and torture her before he killed her. It was her worst nightmare, but she would endure him. And when the time came, she would overpower him.
“Ben is your best friend,” she said as he traced the edge of her bra with the tip of his knife. “Why did you kill Olivia? How could you do that to him?”
“She was a cheating whore. I did it for him.”
Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place, something she should have considered before. “Did you lie to the police for him, too? Claiming to be his alibi?”
“Of course.” He slid the blade down her stomach, skimming over her flesh. “Those fools took forever to find O’Shea.”
“How did you know he’d confess?”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “That was just a stroke of luck.”
“What about the others? What did they do to deserve being brutally murdered?”
“Worthless sluts,” he said with a sigh. “I did the world a favor.”
“You’ll never get away with this,” she gasped, struggling for air. She didn’t have to feign her fear.
He shrugged. “It hardly matters. I knew it was over for me the minute I saw you standing in my bedroom.”
“You won’t make it out alive.”
He cut away the front of her trousers, nickin
g her hip. “Neither will you.”
CHAPTER 25
One moment they were punching it through the increasing fog, catching up with Destiny, and the next she was gone.
“What happened?” Ben asked, searching the horizon.
“He cut the lights,” Stephen said, reaching up to do the same. In an instant, they were cloaked in darkness.
Fear gripped him. “Why?”
“Either he realized he was being followed, or he stopped to…”
Ben’s chest tightened like a vise. “Go faster.”
“I can’t. In these conditions, we’d be right on top of them before I had a chance to react.”
Ben tried to stay calm, but it was impossible. He couldn’t bear the thought of Carly in danger. “I’m going out on deck,” he said, figuring he could see better from there.
“Good idea.”
Adrenaline rushing through his veins, he walked to the bow, eyes straining to see through the mist. When he caught up with JT, he was going to fucking kill him. Beat the hell out of him first. Then wrap his fingers around his throat and squeeze.
So intent was he on vengeance, he almost missed them. The fog was patchy, intermittent, but between the breaks he caught a glimpse. “Up ahead,” he shouted to Stephen, who nodded and changed direction slightly, making a beeline toward Destiny.
In its cab, Ben could see the vague outline of two figures, locked in struggle. From their respective heights he knew it was JT and Sonny.
No one else was visible. Where was Carly?
It felt as though Captain Trips was moving in slow motion. Christ, he could swim faster than this!
The sound of splashing alerted him to his daughter’s location. About twenty feet away from Destiny, there were two dark heads bobbing on the surface of the water. When he saw them, tears of relief sprung into his eyes. “Carly!” he shouted, leaning out over the rail.
“Daddy,” she cried back. “Help me!”
Ben didn’t hesitate. Carly needed him. There was no other choice to make. Taking a second to flip off his shoes, he leapt onto the railing and dove into the dark Pacific. The water was bracingly cold. Life-affirming. He reached her in a few sure strokes.
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