...................
Ryan thought of Jessica as he sank into the Pacific.
He remembered her face and thought of her laugh.
He wished that he’d felt her love; even if only for a brief moment in time.
His thoughts lasted only seconds.
Unconsciousness overcame him, but not before he saw a final image of his father, and processed his last living thought.
I hope murder is allowed in hell.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
The Blue Book says we've got to go out and it doesn't say a damn thing about having to come back.
~ Keeper Patrick H. Etheridge of the Creed’s Hill Station
Seeing the red and blue of the Coast Guard will always bring a lump to my throat.
~ Drew Stirling
...................
Drew didn’t know much about marine radios, but she found the volume and turned it up. At first, she heard nothing but static; then a voice broke the silence.
She shivered and froze.
“Rye? Rye? Are you there asshole?”
She stared at the radio.
“Ryan, you dick. It’s Chip. Answer the radio. I’m just off your port side, get a fender out and catch my line.”
Drew looked off to the port side, and sure enough, there was a sailboat there. She realized she’d better get dressed and help Kyle tie off his boat. The man was on her shit list, but she could use his help figuring out how to call the authorities.
Drew had no regrets. She knew she had to report that Ryan had drowned, but she’d figure out later what details to disclose.
First, clothes. She didn’t want to be naked when Kyle boarded.
The radio squeaked again.
“Hey Ryan, you’d better not be undermanned over there. I want my piece of that fucking uptight cunt, too. Ryan, dammit. Answer the radio or come out here.”
Drew’s body shook.
She looked for a way to start the boat. She panicked. She couldn’t remember if there was a key to turn or a button to push. She began hyperventilating. She picked up the microphone, pushed the button, and yelled into it.
“Help me! Help me! Help me!”
She slumped into a fetal position and cried her eyes out until she realized that she wasn’t ready to surrender.
“That bastard,” she said. She stood. “You think I’m going to let you win, you piece of shit?”
Drew’s anger fired her into action. She looked out the port side porthole and saw Kyle make a precarious leap from his sailboat to the deck of the power boat.
He was carrying a line with him.
Drew stood frozen while he secured his sailboat. “Shit.”
Drew moved towards the stern. She didn’t want to be trapped inside the cabin. She picked up a bottle of wine and held it like a club.
“Where’s Ryan?” Kyle said.
“Same place you’re going to be if you come near me.”
“What the fuck did you do?”
“Don’t act stupid. I heard you on the radio. If you’re smart, you’ll get back on your boat and race to hire an attorney.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Then I guess we have a problem, don’t we?”
“Drew, be reasonable.”
“What? You want me to be reasonable? You fucking piece of shit. I can’t believe I trusted you. You weren’t naively covering for your sick friend; you’re just like him. An ugly sick monster. You’re not even a man, Kyle. You’re a cowardly piece of filth. Stay away from me.”
“Okay, Drew, you’re being crazy; you’ve taken too many drugs for your own good. I’m calling the Coast Guard; they’ll believe me when I tell them what I saw: you killed an innocent man, Drew. Your reputation will taint people’s judgment of the situation. If you’re smart, you’ll shut the fuck up. Consider that as me being fair and reasonable. Otherwise, you’ll be going to prison for a revenge murder.”
Drew watched him head into the cabin. She considered his threat. He could lie, but she could... She could what? What could she say? That she’d been kidnapped? Hell, the man had a restraining order against her. It might not be so easy to convince people that she’d been a victim. Not with Kyle lying about it as well. She put her head down and sighed.
Kyle rushed her.
He was fast, but he slipped in Ryan’s blood.
She reacted without thinking, bashing him in the head with the wine bottle.
Drew hit him a second time.
As she prepared for a third strike, her arm raised, she stopped and looked at him.
He didn’t move.
She bit her lip. She considered killing him, it was what he deserved, but instead she breathed in deeply and exhaled.
She kicked him, then went into the cabin for a restraint.
...................
When the Coast Guard approached and threw Drew a line, she’d already been patched through to Rick over the radio.
He told her that he knew she’d make it, but Drew knew he was lying. She hadn’t believed she was going to live.
Kyle had regained consciousness by the time the Coast Guard boarded Ryan’s boat. He was restrained by the same cord that had been used around Drew’s ankle.
He demanded a lawyer when he was taken into custody, and he cursed at Drew under his breath.
Drew refused to look at him.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
What separates us from the animals, what separates us from the chaos, is our ability to mourn people we’ve never met.
~ David Levithan
My Grandfather taught me a Korean proverb: Aneun gild muleogara. Even if you know the way, ask one more time.
~ Chelsea Davis
...................
Drew glanced at the newspaper rack as she entered Starbucks.
There was a picture of Kyle Fisher and a headline about his plea agreement.
His confession had taken the death penalty off the table; by admitting to the murder of Laura Wistern, whom he’d killed to shift the spotlight off Ryan Mills, he avoided a jury trial and the possibility of receiving a lethal injection.
Drew didn’t read the story. She’d heard enough from Rick, who had explained the bizarre arrangement between Ryan and Kyle. An ugly fate had brought them together in college. What had started as depraved sexual games with prostitutes, ended in a serial killing partnership.
Nobody knew if they’d sought help with Randy Hawkins out of a legitimate desire to stop their crime spree, or if it was simply another way they manipulated their wives.
Jessica Mills refused to speak to the press.
Evelyn Fisher filed for divorce.
Randy Hawkins gave a brief interview in which he stated that he’d tried to follow his conscience and professional ethics to the best of his ability.
“Drew!”
She looked up and saw Chelsea. She had a grin like a pageant winner accepting her crown. Drew approached her and gave her a huge hug. “Congratulations.”
She took Chelsea’s hand and looked at her ring. She kissed her again, on the cheek, and asked if they’d chosen a date yet.
“Ben thinks next summer. I’m trying to coordinate with my parents. Would you be my maid of honor, Drew?”
“Of course. Yes, I’d be honored. I’m so excited. Where is he, anyway?”
“On his way. Ten minutes. Sit, please. What can I get you?”
They chatted about all the things women worry about when planning a wedding: the dress, flowers, catering, locations, a photographer, bridesmaids dresses, where to honeymoon, and of course, the date. They got so deep into their discussion that neither of them had noticed Ben standing next to their table.
“Oh, look who made it,” Drew said.
“Honey,” Chelsea said as she jumped up and hugged him. “Sit. I got your latte already; I hope it’s still warm.”
Ben gave Drew a side hug and sat. “Traffic.”
The women updated Ben with decisions about the wedding.
He smil
ed and reminded them that he was supposed to be part of the decision process too.
Drew laughed at him.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” she said. “No, not sorry, weddings are for the women. Just smile and nod little brother.”
“Yeah, sure. Look, I hate to bring this up,” Ben said. “Have you seen the paper today?”
“Yes. I don’t care. I read the headline. It’s enough for me. I don’t want to know more.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
“He admitted to several—ummm—several others. It was part of his deal. I guess he and Ryan were sick partners for a long time. Years. Going back to their early days as faculty. It’s really sick. But, Drew, you do realize you’re a major hero?”
“I don’t feel like a hero. I did what I had to do.”
“No, Drew,” Chelsea interjected. “You are a hero. How many women would have continued to follow that monster? Not many. You are a genuine hero, and the bravest person I know.”
“Thanks, Chels. Aww, it’s over. Let’s think about happy things. Weddings and honeymoons.”
“Speaking of weddings,” Ben said.
“Shut it.”
“No seriously, the man loves you.”
“I know, but I have years of school to worry about. Post graduate work. I’m not sure about weddings and children and mortgages. Subject-change time.”
“You’re such a hardass.”
“Ben,” Chelsea said. “Leave her alone. She’s an independent woman. Rick knows that.”
“Speaking of Rick, can he make the engagement party?”
“He’ll be there,” Drew said.
...................
On Saturday night Drew went to the engagement party alone.
“Where’s Rick?” Ben asked.
“Big emergency,” Drew answered. “They’ve been working 18 hour days. Actually, I don’t think he’s slept in days. It’s a big secret, of course, but I’m sure it has to do with some kind of threat. A big one.”
“Terrorism?” Chelsea asked.
“I think so. But I don’t really know. Forget it. It’s a night to celebrate.”
“I’m sorry he couldn’t make it,” Ben said. “I was hoping you’d both be inspired.”
“Leave her alone, Ben,” Chelsea said. “She’s got her own timing, not like the rest of us mortal women. Drew, I heard you started a new internship?”
“Yes. Rick suggested it. He knew someone who knew someone. But it’s been something on my mind, anyway, this idea of saving people is appealing. I guess it makes me feel worthwhile and important, so I’m working with the BI.
“What’s that?” Chelsea asked.
“It’s kind of like the FBI, but it’s state. The California Bureau of Investigation. They cover major crimes and work under the State Attorney’s office. The internship I’m working on is tied to my studies at school, actually, but I can’t go into details. The Bureau does interagency coordination and the San Diego office is important for a few reasons, one of which is the border with Mexico.”
“So what are you going to do, Drew?” Ben asked. “Quit being a scientist and become a cop?”
“I don’t know. I liked saving myself, obviously. When you and I met, I’d saved myself. Just me. Survival is good. But then, with this other thing, I stopped two killers. It was gratifying.”
“So it’s addictive?”
“Yeah, I guess. Knowing I’ve rid the world of a couple of very evil men... The feelings about it have grown on me. I like making a difference. With this interagency intelligence stuff, the bioengineering background, the state of the world, I have the potential to do a lot of good. It feels very satisfying to save a few people, so I’ve been wondering: what would it feel like to save a thousand people? A million?”
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Acknowledgments:
Editing provided by Kayleen Steele.
All errors, admissions, and rambling sentences, however,
remain the authors alone. Creativity and stubbornness are twins.
Cover design by Carl at Extended Imagery.
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Undressed At Sea: A Psychological Thriller (Drew Stirling Book 2) Page 31