2 Lowcountry Bombshell

by Susan M. Boyer

  “What?”

  “I thought maybe I was being followed this afternoon. Some idiot in a black Mustang. And bless Pat if there’s not one parked right over there. I’m going to check it out.”

  “Probably a lot of black Mustangs.”

  “Still…I want to get the plate.” I opened the door.

  Nate opened his door and climbed out. “You stay in the car, I’ll get it.”

  “Nate, it’s just a license plate—” We were apparently going to have a period of adjustment where work was concerned now that our relationship had turned romantic. He’d dialed his protective streak way up. I shrugged and closed my door.

  He came back a few moments later. “Dark tinted windows?”

  “Yes—I bet you anything that’s the same car.”

  Nate scribbled the plate in a notebook he pulled out of the console. “Maybe so, but he wouldn’t leave his car here and take the ferry. The Marina Market is closed. Maybe he’s visiting someone on a boat—or over at Morgan Creek. They’ve got a crowd tonight.”

  “No one would park that far away.”

  Nate shrugged. “He didn’t follow us here. And there’s no one in the car. We’ll run the tag when we get back to the house just to be on the safe side.”

  I scoured every corner of the parking lot I could see.

  “Relax. There’s no one here but you and me.” He twined his fingers through mine and we watched the ferry approach.

  The Amelia Ruth was named in honor of my third great-grandmother, a Beauthorpe who’d married a Talbot. The Beauthorpe’s had donated the land for the dock on Stella Maris and contributed generously to the original ferry. Amelia Ruth docked and the side of the boat, which lowered to form a ramp, opened. Nate pulled the car onto the ferry. We were the first ones on. “Do you want to get out?” he asked.

  “Sure. The breeze will feel nice up top.” We got out of the car and climbed the steps to the top observation deck. The middle deck was nice when you wanted air conditioning. But tonight I wanted to see the stars and feel the wind.

  We walked to the front of the ferry. No one else was on the deck, so we had our pick of spots. I stood next to the rail, and Nate snuggled close behind me, wrapping me in both arms.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  He brushed my hair back and kissed me on the side of my neck. “This.”

  I leaned into him for a moment, then turned in his arms. He placed a hand behind my head and pulled me close. With his bottom lip, he caressed mine. Then he kissed me soundly and rested his forehead to mine.

  The engine noise picked up, and the Amelia Ruth pulled away from the dock. Time was passing too quickly. It felt as if we’d barely been on the ferry five minutes. I smiled playfully and turned to watch the trip. I loved being on the water, especially at night. Once we were away from the marina, the sky was jet black and the stars twinkled and the moon glowed just for us.

  The warm breeze felt soft on my skin, and its rush dampened the sound of everything outside the two of us. I was cocooned in the arms of the man I loved, and all was right with the world. It was magical. We cuddled and soaked in the night, totally lost in each other.

  Halfway into the twenty-minute trip, after we’d cleared the northern point of Isle of Palms and were starting across Pearson’s Inlet, the ferry jerked, and swayed a bit. I snuggled closer to Nate. The tide was on its way out and inlet currents were often swift.

  The groan of metal under stress and a splash loud enough to penetrate the wind announced trouble.

  Nate stepped away from me.

  I turned around. “What in this world?”

  Nate was on high alert. “That splash was too loud to be a person.”

  We scrambled towards the back of the boat and made our way down the stairs. The second level deck was as deserted as the top had been.

  My alarm level climbed. This was very unusual for a Friday night. As we started down the flight of stairs to the car deck, I gasped. The back side of the boat, which served as a ramp when lowered, had been opened and was closing.

  “Holy shit.” Nate muttered. “Looks like the ferry has some equipment issues.”

  I followed Nate the rest of the way down the steps. The car deck was empty.

  The Explorer was gone.

  We were the only passengers on the ferry—how?

  “Oh my God.” Terror rose in my throat.

  “Not a malfunction,” Nate said.

  I searched the deck. For a moment I thought we were alone on the ferry. Where was the captain? A lone crew member stepped out of the wheel house. He wore the standard uniform, cap and all. Only the ski mask and two pistols were out of order. He walked towards us deliberately, keeping one gun trained on each of us.

  “Nate, are you armed?” I spoke softly.

  “Regrettably not. Didn’t think I’d need a gun tonight.”

  “I had a Taser in my purse, but it’s in the car.”

  “Where are the life vests?” he asked.

  “In the chests under the seats.”

  “When I say go, you jump over the side. Don’t hesitate. I’ll try to get two vests and follow you.”

  “Nate—”

  The armed crewman closed the distance between us by half.

  “No time to argue, Slugger. Do it. Now.”

  I vaulted over the rail.

  Two silenced gunshots followed me over the edge.

  I hit dark swirling water and went down. Damnation. The water was deep. Deep enough to hide an SUV until it was sucked out to sea. I kicked towards the surface. It seemed miles above me.

  My heart and lungs exploded as I broke the surface.

  The tide was running out. I struggled against it, treaded water, and watched the ferry slide away.

  Bullets pinged off metal.

  Nate flew over the side. Was he hit? He plunged into the water and I swam towards the spot I’d seen him go in. With every stroke, I fought the water intent on tugging me towards the Atlantic.

  “Nate?”

  He popped out of the water maybe a hundred feet away. Praise God he had two life vests.

  “Were you hit?”

  He coughed and sputtered. “No. Swim towards me.”

  “I’m trying.”

  He wiggled out of his sport coat, then kicked and floated in my direction. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached out and grabbed a life vest. We struggled into them. I was exhausted already from fighting the current. Without the floatation jackets we would surely have drowned.

  “Are you okay?” Nate asked.

  “For now. We’ve got to get to land.”

  The ferry continued towards Stella Maris. Nate said, “At least we’re out of gunshot range and no doubt invisible now in the water. Who the hell was that guy?”

  “My best guess is the driver of that Mustang. And it has to do with the thing I didn’t tell you about Sonny. Later. We’ve got to get to land.”

  We floated in a circle, looking at all the options.

  “We’re too far from Stella Maris,” Nate said. “That small islet might be in range, but it would mean swimming against the current. No way that’ll work.”

  “We’ve got to make the water work for us,” I said. “If we swim with the current, but angle towards Isle of Palms, we might be able to reach the northeast shore there.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I need to rest a minute. Let’s just drift.”

  “For a minute.”

  I laid back in the life vest and floated. Nate followed suit. Five minutes later, I’d caught my breath. The lights on the north end of Isle of Palms seemed impossibly far away. “We’d better get moving. Swimming in these vests is going to be awkward and slow. But I think we have to leave them on in th
is current.”

  “Agreed.”

  We kicked slow and steady and moved our arms in semi-circles in front of us. Resting periodically, we made our way towards shore. Behind us, the ferry glided back from Stella Maris to Isle of Palms on schedule, then returned. What felt like days later, we crawled onto the sand. I flopped over on my back and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

  Nate sprawled beside me and reached for my hand.

  I gripped his hard, and tamped down the hysteria threatening to overwhelm me.

  Nate said, “That’s the closest we’ve ever come to being killed on this job. Something tells me that what we’re into is a lot deeper than we think. I’d’ve sworn we hadn’t kicked near enough hornets’ nests yet to warrant this kind of trouble.”

  “Sonny found out the gun used to kill Calista’s life coach came from the evidence room at Charleston PD.”

  “Not good.”

  “I thought that meant Harmony’s—Helena’s—death wasn’t connected to Calista. But since Helena isn’t our case, and Calista is…”

  “No one would try to kill us over a case we’re not investigating.”

  “Precisely,” I said. “The two cases must be connected. And we must be a hellava lot closer to whoever is behind it all than we imagined.”

  “We’d better stay on Isle of Palms tonight. We need to make sure the house hasn’t been compromised, and we’re in no shape to deal with that tonight.”

  “I fed Rhett this morning. His water bowl automatically refills. He’ll be fine until tomorrow. Unless someone has been to the house.”

  My panic level rose again. Surely whoever our assailant was, he’d have no reason to harm a friendly dog. Only Rhett didn’t sound all that friendly to intruders. There was nothing we could do. “We don’t have a choice but to stay here. The last ferry has come and gone, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I want to get back on anyway.”

  “Excellent point.” Nate staggered upright and removed his life vest. He reached down and gave me a hand up.

  My legs buckled. I felt dizzy.

  Nate steadied me. “Are you okay to walk?”

  I took a few deep breaths. “I’m good.” I slipped off my vest.

  Nate pulled me close and we clung to each other for a few minutes.

  Finally, I said, “Whoever that was, they left the dock before anyone else could get on the ferry. Nate, what about the regular crew?” I pulled back and looked up at him.

  He looked grim, but didn’t respond. He didn’t have to.

  I started to tear up. “We better find someplace for me to crash, cause I’m close.”

  “Here we go, Slugger.” Nate tugged gently and we started moving towards the nearest walkway. “Look at the bright side. I think we just worked off all that fried food.”

  I giggled. “This dead ends into a golf cart path. Our best bet is to turn left and stick to the cart path until we can cross over to Back Bay Drive. We’re inside Wild Dunes, of course, which means we’ll have to walk all the way to the Boardwalk Inn to check in this time of night. Any idea what time it is?”

  Nate glanced at his watch. “What do you know? This thing really is waterproof. It’s almost midnight.”

  “I would have sworn it was three a.m. We must have gone into the water at about twenty ’til eleven. I think your watch is broke. We were out there longer than any hour and twenty minutes.”

  “Far be it from me to argue with a lady under such circumstances as these.”

  We made it to the golf path. “If it really is close to midnight, we might get lucky and catch a shuttle. They have service within the resort to carry guests around to restaurants, bars, and such.”

  Nate patted his pants pockets. “Remarkable. I still have my wallet. You figure out how to talk us on to a shuttle. I’ve got cash. It’s soaked, but it should still work. I’ll figure out a way to talk us through check-in without giving a credit card. Until we know more about what’s going on and who’s involved, I don’t want to do anything that can be traced.”

  “Deal.”

  TWENTY

  I woke Saturday morning to Nate waving coffee under my nose.

  “Let’s get some of this in you before I open the blinds,” he said.

  I pulled a pillow over my face and burrowed deeper under the covers.

  “Come on now. We need to get moving. I called Blake. A buddy of his has a house with a dock at the end of Seahorse Court. We thought that would be better than the marina right now. He’s borrowed a boat and is on his way to get us.”

  I groaned, sat up, and reached for the coffee. “What did you tell him?”

  “Everything I know specifically about last night. I didn’t go into any of the whys or wherefores. I’m not sure if this case belongs to him, to the Coast Guard, or to the sheriff’s office, but Blake can sort all that out. If anyone else wants to talk to us, then they’ll be around. Meanwhile, we’ve reported the incident to local law enforcement.”

  I gulped coffee. “I bet he’s fit to be tied.”

  “Rightly so,” Nate said. “Our clothes aren’t nearly dry. I picked up some shorts and t-shirts while I was out.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  “About an hour. I brought breakfast.” He dangled a bag.

  Suddenly I was ravenous. I grabbed the bag and tore into it.

  Nate opened the blinds, and sunlight exploded into the room. I blinked and stuffed a bite of croissant into my mouth.

  “Nice hotel,” Nate said. “Accommodating staff.” He picked up his own coffee cup.

  “Well, most people are when tipped that well. Why on earth do you carry so much cash around?”

  “In case I need to rescue a mermaid, of course. I’m not nearly as creative with improvisation as you are. That shuttle driver enjoyed your little, ‘We fell into the pool shagging at a party,’ story.”

  “Oh, please. That probably happens once a week here in the summer. He didn’t even blink.”

  Nate chuckled.

  I stared at him. I was still flirting with coming unhinged. “I’m glad you can joke about this. We almost died last night.” I stuffed another bite of croissant into my mouth to soothe myself.

  “I’m aware.”

  “We need to call Sonny.”

  “Maybe. Pass me that bag.”

  I handed it to him and he pulled out a muffin.

  “Why maybe?” I asked.

  “I want to think all of this through with a clear head before we talk to anyone other than Blake.”

  “Surely you don’t think Sonny is involved?”

  “I’ve never met Sonny Ravenel. I’ve heard you mention him a time or two. I know you trust him. That’s good enough for me. But anyone who would go to the lengths that jackass last night went to is capable of anything. Sonny could be under surveillance. Someone could be listening to his calls. As far as our would-be killer knows, we’re dead. Best play dead a while.”

  “You’re right. But if he thinks we might be alive, won’t he look at my house first? Wouldn’t he be watching to see if we show up?”

  “Very likely.” Nate looked somber. “Let’s just take things one step at a time.”

  I stood, wrapping the sheet around me. Nate wore khaki shorts, an Isle of Palms T-shirt, and an Isle of Palms baseball cap. “You look like a tourist,” I said.

  He handed me another bag. “You will too, as soon as you put some clothes on. I’m sorry, but the store didn’t carry undergarments.”

  I blushed. “I’ll manage.” I waddled into the bathroom. I’d rinsed my bra and panties last night while closing in on a dissociative state. I hadn’t wrung them out well, and they were still pretty damp. My dress was ruined. I wiggled into my underwear, tore the tags off my shorts, T-shirt and cap, and dressed. T
hankfully, Nate had thought of flip-flops. My red Kate Spade wedges were at the bottom of Pearson’s Inlet.

  I recognized my brother at the wheel of the Boston Whaler before he came clearly into view by the way he stood, and the fact that he was rubbing the back of his neck and periodically adjusting his ball cap.

  He tossed out a couple of bumpers and tied off the boat at the dock. Nate and I climbed aboard.

  “Are you all right?” Blake’s face was creased, his eyes wide with alarm. He scanned the area. Blake rarely looked scared.

  I nodded. “I’m fine.”

  He hugged me, which was also rare for Blake. I hugged him tight and teared up. I was still overdue for a good cry.

  Blake released me and reached for Nate’s hand, then pulled him in for a back slap. “Nate. My God, what the hell?”

  Nate shook his head. “We’re still sorting that out. Has to do with the Calista McQueen case.”

  Blake’s face contorted in disbelief. “That whacko? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  “We’re not saying she had anything to do with it,” I said. “But the people who want to harm her are apparently the same people who killed the new age guru in Charleston.”

  “Harmony what’s-her-name?”

  “Right,” I said.

  “Sonny caught that case,” Blake said.

  “We know,” I said. “And I’m afraid Sonny’s in danger, too.” I brought Blake up to speed.

  He stared at me for a long moment, processing. “Let’s get you two home. I’ll text Sonny on his burner and ask him to meet me. We have under-the-radar communications established. Never thought we’d need it. Anyway, I’ll fill him in. I’m coordinating with the sheriff’s office and Isle of Palms PD to investigate.”

  “Did someone check the marina parking lot for the black Mustang?” I asked.

  “I asked Isle of Palms PD to check it out last night when Nate first called. It’s gone,” Blake said.

  I squinched my face at Nate. “You called Blake last night?”

  “While you were freshening up. You passed out so fast, I figured I could tell you this morning.”