Captain Blackney’s reign of terror was over. He’d be apprehended and taken into custody for suspicion of murder. In Kayla’s mind there was no suspicion what-so-ever. Blackney was guilty!
She turned to address the Chief Officer. “Do as they ask. They have a murderer to apprehend.”
A collective intake of breath and shock streaked across four faces. The Chief Mate then asked, “A passenger?”
“No. Your captain. You’ll be bringing this ship alongside without him.” She shifted her attention to the open door. “Did he go that way?”
A woman, probably the second officer, confirmed Kayla’s guess with a nod.
“Lock down the bridge. Don’t let him back in here.”
The Chief Mate had doubt written all over his features. “It’s his ship.”
Kayla marched up to the Chief Officer, standing well over six feet, and glared up at him. “He doesn’t get a ship, he’s a fucking serial killer. Now lock the doors after I leave, and don’t open them until the authorities tell you to.”
A cold slap of wind struck her face as she exited the bridge. With a screech of steel hinges, the door closed behind her. Taking the stairs and gripping the wet railing, her fingers ached from the frigid temperatures, but she didn’t dare let go. The ship yawed heavily in the high seas.
Running along the main deck, she saw the passengers clustered inside. Heads turned to watch her through the windows from inside the small restaurant. Instinct lit a fire under her ass to run toward the stern of the ship. She blinked against the icy wind making her eyes tear.
She hoped Greg had found Mattie. The ship wasn’t that big, and there were only so many places Blackney could have hidden her. The stern was very small in comparison to the bow, and the captain wasn’t hiding in the shadows. Kayla backtracked until she came to a set of stairs leading to a small upper deck. A chain strung across the handrails stopped visitors from accessing the steps. She crossed over the chain and hurried up the stairs.
Careful not to slip, she turned the corner at the top and slammed straight into a wall of man concealed by the dark night.
His stainless steel grip sunk through her thin jacket into her upper arms. Waiting would be a mistake, and she thrust her fist upward into his chin. He grunted but didn’t let go.
Powerful fingers bit into her throat, choking her, and yanked her close.
“Bitch!”
Blackney gripped a fistful of her hair and yarded her head back. She gritted her teeth against the pain. Neck exposed, not strong enough to overwhelm him, she was at his mercy.
“Blackney, you’re going to prison.” Handsome and deadly at the same time she looked into his eyes. The eyes of a killer.
His green gaze scoured her face. He wasn’t scared!
But Kayla was terrified.
* * * *
Mattie watched the swirl of muddy coffee she stirred with detached deference. Her thoughts reeled and opposed Greg’s forceful order to remain with the other passengers when he deposited her at the entrance to the snack bar and told her to wait for him.
With a blink, the muted sounds of conversations became excited and elevated when the ferry stopped. The lights of smaller crafts bobbed off the port bow, drawing her attention.
She tossed the stir stick into the garbage and wandered closer for a look. A woman ran past the bank of glass windows, her dark curls flattened with rain and a determined look on her expression.
She shouted. “Kayla!”
Passengers’ heads swiveled in her direction as she dropped her coffee on the nearest table and sprinted for the exit.
The one-way swinging metal gate snapped at her hips as she charged through and hung a sharp left to follow the Admiral’s wife. Gripping the handle, she shoved hard against the backlash of wind, Mattie’s skin shriveled with the bitter bite of December’s gale. With the deck wet and slippery, her feet lost traction, and she fell. Pushing up, she caught sight of Kayla stomping up the stairs to the top deck and disappearing from her view.
Mattie followed and took the stairs two at a time.
“No, Mattie,” Kayla shouted. “Run!”
Mattie gripped the stair rail for balance when she reached the upper deck. Brett had one thick arm around Kayla’s shoulders and his other hand held a knife to her throat.
“Get on the zodiak,” he ordered.
She took a tentative step backward until Brett pressed the knife into Kayla’s skin.
“Okay.” Mattie raised a hand in surrender. “Put the knife down.”
She edged her way toward the orange RHIB Rigid Hulled Inflatable suspended over the water as if Brett had been in the process of trying to escape. Gripping the edge of the rocking boat, she propped her knee on the passenger protection rail of the ship and pulled herself onto the rubber cover strung across the top of the fifteen-foot craft. It held her weight but sagged beneath her.
Blackney muscled Kayla over to the boat and pushed her roughly into the railing.
“You, too.”
Kayla scrambled, and Mattie helped her to shimmy up beside her.
Did Brett think he’d escape with the Coast Guard so close? He sure as hell couldn’t row fast enough to get away and the seas churned with a frothy swell forty feet below them.
With stealth, using the darkness for cover, a shadow emerged. The figure rammed Brett, sending both men to the ground with harsh grunts.
Mattie’s heart beat a thunderous chorus when the knife clattered across the rain soaked deck.
Greg hammered Brett’s face three times in quick succession, but it didn’t slow the Ripper. Both men’s adrenaline pinned to overload. They exchanged blows, equally matched in strength.
Brett gained his footing and rose; using the power of his leg, he kicked at Greg, but only made contact with his shoulder. The Ripper scuttled backward to gain some space, but Greg charged and both men toppled. Brett’s hand shot out to stop his fall, and came down on the manual control lever where the cables of the rescue boat could be lowered by hand.
The line attached to one end of the lifeboat slipped, both she and Kayla screamed. In a tumble of arms and legs, she grappled for something to hang on to and Kayla did too, both gripping the edge of the deck.
The lifeboat tipped and dangled from one end.
“I can’t hold on!” Mattie yelled. Her arms shrieked with the weight of her body. Gravity pulled her toward the ocean; her fingers barely crimped over the ledge. Kayla wasn’t doing much better.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would do anything for her. They were both going to fall—the dark angry sea ready to consume them with a frigid cold gulp.
Chapter Thirty-two
Greg’s heart flatlined when the girls screamed. He recognized the cable’s high-pitched metallic zip through the davit, and released Blackney when one end of the RHIB drop from sight.
Blackney scrambled backwards, leaped to his feet and shot down the stairs.
He had to disengage, he’d chase the Ripper down later. Greg hit the lever to stop the RHIB’s descent, then prayed as he launched himself to look over the railing. Kayla and Mattie clung to the ledge of the deck, their arms outstretched and their bodies draped down the side of the ship’s hull.
Diving onto the metal decking, the puddled rain soaked through his cotton jacket and the non-skid surface scratched his stomach as he thrust both arms under the bottom rail and gripped one wrist of each woman.
“Hang on!”
“I can’t. Oh, God, I’m slipping,” Mattie screamed.
Through the iron mesh of the grate in the protection railing both women stared up at him, their eyes huge.
Kayla shook her head. “Let me go, Greg.”
“Not likely.”
He couldn’t take the chance of releasing either woman. None of the vessels that rallied to stop the ferry were on this side of the ship.
“Let go, Greg.” Kayla squirmed and her wrist slipped through his hand. He clenched her fingers, praying he didn’t break them.
Jesus, he needed help. He couldn’t pull them onboard. All he could do is hang onto both women until someone came. He wasn’t going to choose which might die if he let go. Kayla consumed his heart for most of his life. Mattie had somehow assumed ownership and taken residence of his every waking thought.
“Please, goddammit.” He hollered at the no-win situation.
Both girls winced, caught in his relentless grip.
The bitter wind and salt spray numbed his fingers, but he refused to let go. Mattie slipped a little more. If he lost one, he’d dive into the sea after saving the other.
He was out of options, barely hanging onto each hand. The inevitable was about to happen.
Someone lunged over the railing. With a powerful arm, Austen gripped Kayla by the back of her jacket collar and strong-armed his wife, tossing her body across the safety rail like she was a puppet. She clung to the ship’s top rung, then groaned and threw her legs over top and fell safely to the deck.
Austen reached down and did the same to Mattie, but it was Greg’s arms she fell into, and he pulled her trembling body over the barrier, squeezing the fuck out of her slender frame with relief.
“Looked like you needed a hand,” Austen said to him, helping his wife to her feet and wrapping her in a protective hold.
“Thanks. Where the hell did you come from?”
“Hitched a ride with Montgomery on a Coast Guard RHIB from Victoria. City police are crawling all over this ship. Where’s Blackney?”
Mattie buried her forehead against his chest, and his arms instinctively embraced her. “You’re shivering.” He motioned to Austen. “Let’s get the girls inside. Then I’ll find Blackney.”
“No.” Mattie stepped back. Her face pinched tight. “Don’t chase him.”
He leaned over her and both brows shot past her bangs, fear mingled with surprise. “Stand down, woman. You’re going inside.”
He and Austen escorted their ladies into the warmth of the ship with no further complaints from Mattie. The cops and US Coast Guard crews had herded the passengers into a lounge situated near the bow, below the bridge deck.
“Stay here,” Austen ordered.
“You stay here,” Kayla snapped back. “Let the authorities find Blackney.”
Austen darted a glance at him. “Maybe this time it’s not our show.”
“Admiral Austen.” A voice boomed from behind them and the captain from the US Coast Guard threw out his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’m Captain Selkirk, United States station Port Angeles.”
Austen nodded and shook the man’s hand. “Any sign of Blackney?”
“We’re searching the ship by quadrant. We’ll find him. The Canadian police are onboard as well.”
Greg surveyed the passengers’ faces as they watched with interest. Only police and Coast Guard crew members walked the outside decks. From working so many years in the Special Forces, the little voice that saved his ass many times had a way of getting louder when he should pay attention.
A gnawing in his gut warned that all wasn’t as it should be.
Greg dropped his gaze to meet Mattie’s. She didn’t pause and lifted onto her tip toes and kissed him. Not a kiss to lure him into the bedroom, but one smothered in grateful appreciation.
“You didn’t let go of me.”
His palm cupped the back of her neck. “Why would I let go of you?”
A blush reddened her cheeks. “You couldn’t hold onto both of us.”
Kayla overheard their conversation and smiled. Although their hearts had gone in different directions, the years he and Kayla spent together—from moments of gut-wrenching sadness to the heat of passion—had hand carved a deep, eternal bond. That interminable connection would only die when they did, but he wasn’t responsible for her life any longer. She had Austen, and Greg hoped he had what Mattie desired.
It wasn’t a matter of trying to fit her into his spur-of-the-minute lifestyle; always connected, awaiting the next call and debrief for an impending mission. Nor did he need to deal with the demons of his past. They were in the past. Mattie told him in no uncertain terms that the saying if you let someone free, and it’s meant to be, they’ll come back to you was complete bullshit.
He agreed. He agreed with his entire heart. They had a chance at happiness. A chance at forever. More than anything, he wanted to tie his French roots with her stubborn, fiery Irish roots and make a family.
Their family.
Greg brushed his thumb across Mattie’s delicate cheekbone. Soft. Exquisite. “I would have dived in after you if I couldn’t have held on.”
She shook her head. “Instead of JTF, think it should be STD.”
He chuckled. “Ah, that would be a venereal disease, honey.”
“No, it stands for Silver Tongued Devil. You’re a hero to the end, Greg.”
When she attempted to pull away, he held her in place and she looked up at him with surprise.
“I didn’t mention an end to anything.” He swallowed thickly. “Unless…” He shook his head and bowed closer. “No, there’s no end.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but paused, ready to change direction. Attempt to put his attention on something other than their tenuous relationship.
On cue, she said, “Why don’t you grab us a coffee? I’m going to find Sergeant Montgomery. The admiral said he’s onboard.”
“Better idea,” he offered, and held her hand. “We’ll find Montgomery together.”
He turned a look over his shoulder at Austen, who was engaged in conversation with the Coast Guard captain, but Kayla gave him a shooing wave.
“We’ll find you later,” she said.
Greg held Mattie’s hand and broke a path through the crowd. A couple uniformed police officers stood guard to keep passengers contained, and he approached them. “We’re looking for Sergeant Montgomery.”
The officers stopped their conversation. The taller of the two with “Yates” on his name badge focused on Mattie. “How’re you doing, Miss Bidault?” he asked.
“No worse for wear, Constable Yates. Have you seen Montgomery?”
“Mattie!”
Stuart Hellman cut through the crowd. When he reached them, he paused and looked like he wanted to take her in his arms, but Greg pulled her tighter to his side.
Possessive? Yup. That was his nature. He protected what was his, and that included the lithe, brave woman full of life and adventure standing beside him.
Mattie’s internal journalist rose to the forefront. “Stuart, did you find him?”
From Constable Hellman’s taut expression, the answer was clear before he said, “No.”
“It’s been over an hour,” Greg said. “He playing hide-and-seek?”
Stuart shook his head. “Don’t think so.”
Kayla and her husband caught up to them. “Captain from the Port Angeles base says they’ve searched the entire ship.” Austen glared at Stuart as if he were talking down to one of his subordinates. “Search again. We’ll help you.”
Passengers standing close enough could eavesdrop, and Stuart jerked his head for Greg and the others to follow. The constable held a hatchway door open on the starboard side of the ship, then turned for the bow. Police and US Coast Guard personnel wandered the decks, but paid them no heed.
Just as they reached the bow where the ship’s bell hung, a dark figure emerged from the cluster of police officers. Montgomery strode toward them, cloaked in a thick bomber jacket and a knit cap pulled over his ears.
“The ship is only so big, Montgomery,” Greg said as the lead investigator of the Task Force joined their circle.
Montgomery’s dark features tightened with displeasure. “It’s not good news.”
“Explain,” Austen barked.
“Blackney’s not onboard this ship. We searched every crack and closet.”
Mattie stepped in fro
nt of Greg and he gripped her upper arms, her body taut with apprehension. “What are you saying? How did he get away? He couldn’t.”
Montgomery’s eyes narrowed against the wind howling down the strait. “All the lifeboats are accounted for. We’re still six miles from Port Angeles.”
“He couldn’t swim that in this cold water,” she spouted.
He and Austen shared a look. They both swiveled on a heel, looking toward the lights of the Port Angeles waterfront.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Kayla spit out.
Mattie clenched his hand. “What’s wrong?”
Kayla grimaced. “He could have made it. Blackney is smart. This is his ship, he could have prepared for this.”
“What if he panicked and just jumped in the water?” Mattie said hopefully.
“Then he’s dead.” Austen confirmed Greg’s wishes out loud, but he knew Austen was lying for Mattie’s benefit.
Greg and Montgomery shared a look. He didn’t like what he read in the investigator’s eyes. The cop thought Blackney may still be alive as well.
“We’re contacting the Port Angeles Sheriff’s office. They’ll search his residence.” Montgomery exhaled a deep breath. “Whether he’s alive or fish bait, I owe Mrs. Austen and you, Mattie, a thank you. You identified the Victoria Ripper.”
Mattie’s brow creased. Her eyes filled with tears. “He got away with it. All those women he tortured and murdered. My friend Marlene. They’ll never have justice.”
Greg nudged her to turn and look at him. “They had you. You didn’t let their memory die. You kept hunting him. You found him with Kayla’s help. He’s gone and I don’t think he’ll ever return to Victoria if he did survive.”
“Sir!” A Victoria PD cop hurried across the deck.
Montgomery excused himself and met the man halfway. Greg watched Austen, who had trained his gaze on the men standing under a deck light. The cop handed the investigator an evidence bag. The Sergeant seemed to be reading something inside, then gave the evidence bag back to the cop.
Code Name_Redemption Page 36
