Capsized

by Julie Cannon

  “Ms. Cooper,” the oldest man said. “On behalf of the parole board, thank you for coming.” The gold embossing on the name plate in front of him spelled out Chairman Rankin. I didn’t need his thanks. I needed him to keep Ariel behind bars. I didn’t respond. I just wanted to say what I had to say and get out of here.

  “Let me introduce you to the rest of the board,” he said and proceeded to do just that. I didn’t care who these people were, just as long as they did their job in this case and in every other parole hearing. I’d learned far more about our penal system than I ever wanted to know. The saying that ignorance is bliss sometimes is very definitely true.

  “For the record,” Chairman Rankin said and nodded toward the stenographer sitting in the corner of the small room, her fingers flying over her silent keyboard. “Note that prisoner 784245 is in attendance.” He looked at Ariel. “Would you please state your full name?”

  “Cindy Raquel Howard.”

  The sound of her voice for the first time in all these years jolted me like an electric jolt, and the memories flooded back. I swallowed hard and pushed them aside. I had a job to do. Chairman Rankin then turned to me and asked the same question but added, “And your position in this matter?”

  I felt Ariel’s eyes on me and cleared my throat. I had stood in front of CEOs of some of the largest, best-known companies in the world and had never experienced the bundle of twitching nerves I felt in front of these civil servants.

  “My name is Alissa Cooper. I am the president and owner of Alissa Cooper Advertising. Ariel Sinclair—” I stopped myself. Habit was a bitch. “Cindy Howard pleaded guilty to embezzling one million, four hundred eighty-two thousand, one hundred forty-nine dollars from my firm, conspiracy to thwart fair industrial commerce, and industrial spying.” Paul had coached me to be specific and use the official terms of the charges of which Ariel was convicted. Stealing money and customers just didn’t have the same punch as the words guilty, embezzlement, conspiracy, and spying.

  “Miss Cooper,” the man next to Chairman Rankin said, looking through the papers in front of him. “This is the fourth hearing in this matter and only the first time you’ve bothered to attend.”

  Okay, now I was really paying attention. His words and the tone in which he used them had a definite meaning. One I didn’t like. He hadn’t asked me a question so I didn’t say anything. Paul had coached me on that too. I waited, knowing his next statement or question would be equally snarky.

  “Why is that?” he asked

  “Cindy Howard was convicted of those crimes against Alissa Cooper Advertising. I felt it more appropriate to send our legal representative to these hearings.” I had to use her full name because Ms. Howard was too respectful for her. I knew what was coming next.

  “So why are you here now?”

  “Because it’s important that she remain incarcerated and serve the entire sentence the court handed down.”

  “And why is that?” the man asked, sitting back in his chair and acting like what I had to say was the most unimportant thing he would ever hear in his life. I forced myself to remain calm. This was an emotional issue for me not only because it was my company but because it was personal. To these five people it was simply their job.

  “Because Cindy Howard’s actions were illegal and premeditated. She knew what she was doing and continued to perpetuate those actions for years, regardless of who suffered the consequences. She admitted to it, was convicted and sentenced.”

  “You had a personal relationship with Ms. Howard, didn’t you?”

  The men were looking at me differently, the women carefully curious. I refused to let this situation slide into a chick-on-chick porno fantasy. I knew I shouldn’t but I couldn’t stop myself.

  “No. She used me to get what she wanted,” I said emphatically. “She initiated the contact and employed every means at her disposal to get it.” Including her body, I thought but didn’t say. In my mind not only was Ariel a criminal, but she was a whore as well.

  The other board members asked more questions, and I answered them as succinctly as I could, growing more and more frustrated with the entire proceeding. Finally I had the opportunity to comment versus answer ridiculous questions.

  “Cindy Howard methodically and systematically connived her way into a trusted position with Alissa Cooper Advertising. This didn’t just happen. She planned this for months and continually refined her plan and her actions as the days went by. This was not opportunistic, a crime of passion, or the result of a negligent act. The judge passed her sentence, and because of her actions you should honor it.” There, I had said my piece and couldn’t add anything that would convince them one way or the other.

  Similar to a jury trial, the prosecution went first, presenting their case. Then the defense presented theirs. I hadn’t paid any attention to the others in the room that were here to testify. I knew Ariel’s attorney but had no interest in knowing who the others were. I did recognize the man in the dark suit as Ariel’s husband, from her trial. Every time I thought of him I couldn’t help but picture them making love. Was she the same aggressive cat with him as she was with me? Did she whisper the same sweet sounds? Did she beg him to fuck her harder? Faster? Again? I felt her eyes on me often. This entire morning and the whole Ariel/Cindy thing was surreal.

  Ariel/Cindy’s attorney spoke next. He glanced over the crimes she’d committed and the extent of her actions but spent most of his time extolling her virtues as a model prisoner. She worked in the library and went to church services every Sunday and bible study on Wednesdays. She had committed one minor infraction of the rules the first week she arrived, but other than that her record was clean. God, he made it sound like she was a pillar of the community—the prison community.

  I practically bit the end of my tongue off, not voicing my objection to his statements. There wasn’t really anything I could object to, but I could have added “bullshit” to the end of every one of his statements. Ariel/Cindy only did what was in her best interest. If she thought bible study would get her brownie points, she’d go. If she thought scrubbing the toilets with her toothbrush would get her out early, she’d do that too.

  “Ms. Howard.” The deep voice of the chairman broke into my thoughts. “How do you think you’ve changed since being here at McDowell?”

  My pulse picked up in anticipation of what crap would come out of her mouth.

  “I did a terrible thing. I was overwhelmed by greed and lust, and I made a mistake. With the help of my father God and his son Jesus Christ, I have become a different woman. I have seen the error of my ways, the wrong in my actions. I have asked God for forgiveness. I have given my heart and soul to God and will follow wherever He leads me.”

  What a crock of shit, I thought as I listened to Ariel/Cindy. She was a conniving, manipulating bitch, and you can’t change those spots. I didn’t believe she’d changed any more than I believed in Santa Claus.

  Ariel/Cindy answered a few more questions before she was dismissed. I didn’t look at her as she walked out, but I knew she was looking at me. The members of the board asked me a few more questions and then dismissed me too. As I left, Ariel/Cindy’s attorney and her husband followed. I hurried down the hall, trying not to look like I was getting the hell out of there as fast as I could.

  “Ms. Cooper.” A voice behind me called. I didn’t want to talk to anyone associated with this case unless it was a member of the board telling me Ariel/Cindy’s parole had been denied.

  “Ms. Cooper.” The voice was closer now. Whoever it was must have hustled to catch up with me. “Ms. Cooper, please, may I speak with you?”

  Shit, I was such a sucker for the word please. I stopped and turned around. Ariel/Cindy’s husband was standing in front of me, slightly out of breath.

  “I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry for what Cindy did to you. I didn’t know. Honestly, I had no idea what she was up to.”

  “Why are you apologizing for her, Mr. Howard?” I
asked sincerely.

  Obviously that wasn’t the response he was expecting, and he had no reply.

  “If you didn’t know, then I’m truly sorry for you because then she fucked us both.”

  With those parting words of wisdom I turned around and walked out of the building.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bert

  “Captain, Captain!” I woke to Limpet pounding on my door. By the tone of his voice I knew something was wrong. I shot out of bed, grabbed my shorts, and while yanking them on I hopped to the door. Glancing at the clock I saw it read one forty-two. I’d been asleep for only a little more than two hours.

  “What is it?” I asked, zipping my pants. I slept in a T-shirt so at least that part of me was already covered. Not that it mattered. My crew had seen me almost naked on more than one occasion over the past eight years. I slid my feet into my boots.

  “We picked up a woman in the water.”

  “What?” Sometimes Limpet didn’t always make sense.

  “We picked up a women in the water,” he said excitedly. “Blow saw a flashing light, and when we got there the woman was in the water. She had on a life vest with an emergency light. She’s in the galley.”

  I struggled to put the pieces together of what he was saying. We were in the middle of nowhere and someone was in the water?

  Stepping through the watertight doorway, I immediately saw the woman sitting at the table, one of our blankets draped around her shoulders. Her hair was wet and she was shivering. I smelled fresh coffee and noticed her hands shake as she reached for the mug in front of her. Lefty was sitting across from her, a pen and tablet in his thick, large hands. When he saw me, relief covered his face.

  “Captain,” he said, practically jumping out of his chair. The woman turned and I stopped, Limpet running into me from behind. I stopped because I was staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Alissa Cooper.

  “Alissa?” That was all I could say. She looked around, apparently equally shocked.

  “Is this your boat?” she asked after a few seconds.

  “Yes, she is. What happened?” I grabbed the chair Lefty eagerly vacated and took a sip of the coffee Limpet brought me.

  “My boat was on fire,” she said. “I grabbed a life vest and jumped.”

  Holy crap. We were six days out of port and she was out here? “Was anyone with you?” I asked, hoping the answer was no. It would be next to impossible to find anyone in this water. It had been a miracle that Blow saw her.

  “No. I was by myself.”

  By herself? Out here in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? “Did you get a mayday out?” I looked at Blow, who shook his head. If she had, we would have picked it up on our scanner.

  “No.” She tried to say more, but her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn’t finish. She shook her head instead.

  I noticed her shoulders were bare. Did she even have any clothes on? No way would she be able to warm up with just coffee. “Come with me,” I said, taking her by the arm. “You need a hot shower and warm clothes.” I turned to Limpet. “We’ll notify the coast guard after she gets warm and tells us what happened. I’ll get her settled and be up in a minute.”

  The corridors weren’t wide enough for two, so I stepped in front of Alissa and took one hand while she used the other one to hold the blanket around her. Her hand was ice cold and I increased my pace. We entered my cabin, and I went directly to the shower and turned on the water. With every inch at a premium on a boat, I had taken out the conventional water heater and installed a tankless one. Not only did we have hot water almost instantly, but I got an additional eight square feet of shower stall.

  I pulled the blanket off Alissa’s shoulders and handed her a clean towel. “Get in,” I said. “There’s only enough water for a six-minute shower, but it’s hot.” I hadn’t bought a desalinization tank yet. It was a luxury I couldn’t afford. “I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

  “Thanks,” Alissa said, her teeth chattering. She turned and stepped into the shower but not before her naked butt drew my attention. I didn’t glance or catch a glimpse or sneak a peek; I looked. Some might call me a pig, their opinion that this wasn’t the time or place to check her out, but, hey, I’m a healthy lesbian, and I admit to admiring a beautiful woman regardless of the situation. I didn’t stop looking until she closed the opaque shower door behind her.

  As I started to leave, Alissa screamed. I yanked open the door. She was as far away from the water as she could get, the palms of her hands covering her breasts.

  “What is it? What’s the matter?” I looked at her trying to figure out what was wrong.

  “The water…” was all she was able to say in between sobs.

  “Alissa, what is it? What’s the matter?” I asked, sounding stupid for repeating myself. This time when she answered me she was still crying but was a little more coherent.

  “The vest kept rubbing against my nipples. The water…the pain…Jesus, it hurts.”

  I finally got it. She’d been naked under the life vest, and the constant bobbing up and down in the water must have chafed her nipples raw. “Sshh,” I said, stepping into the shower with her. Cozy wasn’t the word I’d use to describe the two of us in a one-body shower. Intimate wasn’t another, even though Alissa was naked and I wasn’t.

  “Turn around,” I told her, gently putting my hand on her shoulders and turning her so her back was to me. My body was blocking most of the water, which seemed to give her some immediate relief. “Let me help you.”

  I grabbed the soap and lathered it in my hands, then gently ran them over her back and neck, reaching around to do the same with each of her arms. I repeated the same actions on her legs, staying far enough from her private parts that my mother would be proud.

  “Can you wash your chest?” I asked. “It’ll probably hurt like hell, but you’ve got to get the salt water off or you’ll never heal.”

  Alissa nodded, and when I held the soap out in front of her, my chest pressed against her back. Now that was intimate.

  Her hands shook as she took the bar of soap from me. Lather filled her hands when she handed it back to me. I saw her back stiffen as she ran her hands over her breasts. She moaned, and I think I stopped breathing. I was taller than her so I could see exactly what she was doing over her shoulder. As her hands slid up and down, my heart beat faster. Stop it, I told myself. This woman was simply bathing, not putting on a show for me. God, I felt like a heel for even thinking what my body was telling me to think. Alissa was recovering from a life-and-death situation, and I was leering over her shoulder and lusting at what I was seeing.

  Alissa swayed against me, and I caught her before she fell. My arms were wrapped around her waist, and I propped her up against my own body.

  “Alissa?” I hoped she hadn’t fainted.

  “Hurts,” she murmured.

  “I know. Let’s get you rinsed off and into bed. I have some salve we can put on that’ll help.”

  I reached behind me and turned off the water, then slid the towel off the towel bar and wrapped it around her, careful not to cause too much pain as I did. As we stepped out of the shower she sagged against me again. I swept her into my arms and carried her over to my bed. Since I’d just climbed out, the covers were down, the bed probably still warm. I laid her on the sheets still wrapped in the towel, and she started to shiver. I pulled the covers up around her.

  “Let me get out of these wet clothes and then I’ll get the salve,” I said, at the same time pulling my shirt over my head. In a few seconds my sopping-wet clothes were on the floor in the shower and I was dressed in a pair of boxers and an old T-shirt. I searched through the medicine cabinet and finally found what I was looking for, then sat on the edge of the bed. Alissa opened her eyes and looked up at me.

  “This will help with the healing,” I said, carefully pulling the covers down to her waist. I reached for the end of the towel and stopped. “You’ll probably want to do this,” I said, holding out the jar and
trying not to stammer. Alissa reached for it and I rose off the bed and turned my back, giving her what little privacy I could in the small cabin.

  “Put as much of it on as you can stand. It’ll soak in in a few minutes.”

  Alissa groaned and hissed, and as much as I knew I shouldn’t, I turned around to check on her. Her sunburned face was pale, her forehead sweating. She was breathing fast, and it looked like she was clenching her teeth. She held the jar out.

  “I can’t, hurts too much,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Just do it, please.”

  I wasn’t sure what she was asking me. To rub this jelly on her breasts? To rub it on her nipples? This was purely medicinal, but holy Christ, what was I going to do?

  “Just do it,” she repeated softly.

  I put two fingers into the jar and swiped out a glob of the stuff. It was the color of Vaseline but smelled like cinnamon. A fisherman’s wife had given me a jar eight or nine years ago, and it worked miracles on chapped, weather-beaten skin. And that was exactly how I would describe Alissa’s breasts. I took a deep breath. “Okay, here we go,” I said stupidly. Jesus, this wasn’t pulling a tooth, but I sure made it sound like one.

  The instant my fingers touched her nipples Alissa arched away from me. “Shit, that hurts,” she said, several more beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. “No, don’t stop,” she demanded. “If you do, I probably won’t let you start again.”

  I hated hurting her but this was exactly what she needed. As gently as I could I smeared the gel over her nipples and areolas. She was breathing fast, in short, shallow gasps.

  “Hang on. I’m almost done,” I said, trying to reassure her that this agony would end soon. “I need to put some on your arms here.” I gently touched the front of her armpit, where the vest had also rubbed her raw and over her sunburned face. Those areas obviously weren’t as painful, and her breathing began to return to normal.