‘‘Look at this, Jesse. That’s a knife wound. See the smooth edges?’’
‘‘Maybe that explains the blood in the cockpit.’’
Andy smiled. ‘‘He sure didn’t cut himself shaving. This was from a fight and I think we’re looking at the winner.’’
‘‘Carlos Mendoza, the captain?’’
Andy nodded. ‘‘This adds an unpleasant twist to this situation. We’d better keep an eye on them.’’
By early evening, the young woman was more alert.
‘‘What’s your name?’’ Jesse asked.
The girl’s eyes scanned the main saloon, fixed on Rachel, and then back on Jesse. ‘‘Nicole,’’ she whispered.
‘‘You’re going to be okay. We found your boat adrift, but you’re with us, now. We should be in Florida in two or three days.’’
‘‘Miami?’’
‘‘No, Ft. Myers.’’
‘‘We were supposed to be in Miami,’’ she said anxiously.
‘‘After we get in, you can drive or take a bus there. Don’t worry.’’
‘‘Ryan? Where is he? Is he all right?’’
‘‘Your friend is much sicker than you. He was extremely dehydrated. We had to give him fluid intravenously.’’
Nicole looked into Jesse’s eyes as if she didn’t understand. ‘‘He’s not my friend, he’s my brother.’’
‘‘He was unconscious. We had to put fluid into his body through a vein.’’
‘‘He’s going to be all right?’’
‘‘We think so. Where did you come from? What happened?’’
‘‘I forget,’’ Nicole said, looking away.
‘‘You must remember the storm. It dismasted and trashed the boat.’’
‘‘I only remember being sick and frightened.’’
‘‘What happened to your captain, Carlos Mendoza?’’
Nicole’s eyes widened and shifted to the right. ‘‘I don’t know,’’ she said, touching her face.
Reggie came down the steps. She paused midway, looked at the young woman, and growled. Her fur stood on end.
‘‘Stop it, Reggie,’’ Rachel said as she grabbed the dog in her arms. Reggie continued to stare at Nicole and growl.
Nicole turned her body away. ‘‘I love dogs. Why is he so angry?’’
Jesse placed her hand on Nicole’s forehead. It felt warm to the touch. The ear thermometer read 101 degrees.
‘‘Can I get you something to eat?’’ Jesse asked.
‘‘I’m not hungry. I’ll just sleep.’’
When they went up into the cockpit, Jesse and Rachel looked at each other. ‘‘She’s lying, mother. The girl’s lying.’’
‘‘I understand. Reggie sure knows how to read people.’’
They sailed overnight. The winds were mild, on the beam, and the seas were 8 to 10 feet. As Jesse stood in the cockpit on her watch, she kept an eye on the supine man lying across the cushions.
She was glad to see the sun rising over the hazy red horizon. The old sailor’s rhyme came to mind at once: red sky at dawn, sailor be warned. While she stared at the horizon, Ryan groaned and coughed. Jesse placed her hand on his head, still warm. The thermometer read 101.9 degrees.
Andy stuck his head out from the companionway. ‘‘How’s it going, sweetie, and how’s our friend?’’
‘‘He’s groaning. His temperature’s 101.9 degrees.’’
Reggie stood in the cockpit, watching. Her tail, which was usually wagging, remained still.
‘‘Let’s get him up,’’ Andy, said. ‘‘Maybe we can get fluids into him by mouth.’’
Each took an arm, and raised Ryan to a sitting position. He swayed for a moment, and then reached out, as if to steady himself. When he opened his eyes, his pupils widened, and then his eyes moved from side to side, scanning the cockpit.
‘‘What…’’ he said, trying to jerk his weakened arms away.
‘‘Take it easy, Ryan,’’ Andy said. ‘‘You’re okay.’’
He stared at Andy. ‘‘You know my name?’’
‘‘Nicole told us.’’
He stretched, regained his balance, and freed his arms. ‘‘What else did she tell you?’’
Andy and Jesse looked at each other.
‘‘She’s been very sick,’’ Andy said. ‘‘You were even worse. She said she remembers little about what happened. Perhaps you can fill us in.’’
‘‘My head hurts. I feel sick… do I have a fever?’’
‘‘Yes. Where were you? Maybe you picked up something.’’
‘‘We came from Trinidad and Tobago.’’
‘‘Where is Captain Mendoza?’’
‘‘The storm was horrible. It must have washed him overboard. Thank God we’re safe.’’
‘‘Maybe you have your reasons for lying to us,’’ Andy said, ‘‘But don’t think you’re fooling anyone.’’
Reggie growled.
Ryan’s blue eyes fixed on the dog and then on Andy. He started to stand, but Andy pushed him back onto the cushion with ease.
‘‘What’s your problem, buddy?’’ Ryan snapped. He gulped and stared down at his feet.
‘‘Reiss, Andy Reiss. You’re on our boat, and we’re headed for Florida.’’
‘‘Miami?’’
‘‘No, Ft. Myers. It’s on the gulf coast.’’
‘‘I need to get to Miami.’’
‘‘When we get to Ft. Myers, you can go any damn place you please.’’
Ryan sat in silence.
Andy held up Captain Mendoza’s logbook. ‘‘You came from Cuba, with a stop in Cancun. It’s all in here.’’
‘‘Where we were and what we did is none of your business.’’
‘‘Well, you’ll talk with the Coast Guard and immigration when we get to Florida.’’
‘‘The Coast Guard?’’
‘‘Of course. When we picked you up from Adios, we notified the United States Coast Guard.’’
Ryan fell back on the cushions. ‘‘I feel sick. My head’s going to explode.’’
Andy reached for Ryan to feel his forehead and check his eyes, but he slapped Andy’s hands away. ‘‘Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me ever. I don’t want your help.’’
Jesse shook her head. ‘‘I think we may have made a mistake, Andy.’’
‘‘Perhaps. So much for coming to the aid of persons in peril at sea.’’
‘‘Even to our own detriment?’’
‘‘I didn’t make the rules, but I sure as hell wouldn’t put our lives in jeopardy, especially for the likes of this one.’’
Jesse smiled. ‘‘You’re sure we can’t throw him overboard?’’
‘‘Pretty sure, but if he keeps this up, I’m ready to reconsider.’’
Chapter Fourteen
As the sun rose, the wind had reached full gale force. Seas were building, but Prophecy moved well through the 8-foot swells.
Andy sat with Jesse and Reggie in the cockpit. ‘‘We’d better keep moving. NOAA has posted hurricane warnings for the Yucatan Peninsula and the western tip of Cuba, but since we’re in the lee of the island, it shouldn’t be too bad for us.’’
‘‘Our guests are up,’’ Jesse said.
‘‘How are they feeling?’’
‘‘They’re still feverish and nauseated, although the latter may just be a touch of seasickness.’’
‘‘Is Rachel awake?’’ Andy asked.
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘How is she?’’
‘‘What do you mean?’’
‘‘These two may have picked up something. I worry about Rachel catching it.’’
‘‘You’re the infectious disease specialist. What do you think is wrong with them?’’
‘‘Without a history of exposure to something specific, their symptoms are exactly as you’d find in the early phase of any viral illness.’’
Reggie growled as Ryan stuck his head up through the companionway.
Jesse studied him. ‘‘Goo
d morning. How are you feeling?’’
Ryan ignored her question. He turned forward, staring ahead at the seas.
Andy moved from the helm and stood behind Ryan. ‘‘I’d like to know if you’ve been in contact with anyone who’s been sick in the last week to ten days.’’
Ryan ignored the question.
When Andy placed his hand on Ryan’s shoulder to get his attention, the man snapped around, and reached for his belt, seeking the knife that wasn’t there.
Andy grabbed the smaller man by the shirt. ‘‘What’s wrong with you?’’
Reggie had become enraged with the violent action and stood in the cockpit, snapping at Ryan’s legs. When her sharp teeth found its target, Ryan cried out in pain, and kicked at her. ‘‘Get that damn mutt away from me, or I’ll kill it.’’
Still grasping Ryan’s shirt, Andy turned to Jesse. ‘‘I think we should throw this prick overboard. What about it?’’
Ryan paled. ‘‘I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know why I’m acting this way… we’ve been through so much…’’
Andy released the man.
Ryan straightened his shirt, and turned to go below, when Nicole appeared.
‘‘Come into the cockpit,’’ Andy said. ‘‘I want to talk with both of you.’’ He stared at them. ‘‘I want to know what happened to Captain Mendoza.’’
Ryan and Nicole stared at each other.
‘‘He was lost in the storm,’’ Ryan said.
‘‘Is that right, Nicole?’’ Jesse asked.
Nicole looked at Ryan, then into her lap, and remained silent.
‘‘I have his papers,’’ Andy said. ‘‘Mendoza was an experienced sailor. I can’t believe he’d be careless enough to get washed overboard in bad weather.’’
‘‘I don’t care what you believe,’’ Ryan said. ‘‘That’s what happened.’’
Nicole kept her gaze fixed on her lap. ‘‘He was trying…’’
‘‘Don’t!’’ Yelled Ryan as he stared at his sister.
Jesse rushed to Nicole’s side. ‘‘What happened?’’ She asked softly.
‘‘He was drunk. He tried to rape me.’’
Andy stared at Ryan. ‘‘So, that explains the cut on your neck, and the blood we saw on Adios. Why couldn’t you tell us?’’
Ryan glared at Andy. ‘‘It’s a family matter. None of your business.’’
Andy laughed. ‘‘The authorities won’t agree with you. Someone will answer for the captain’s death.’’
Ryan said nothing.
‘‘I still want to know if either of you have been exposed to anyone who’s been sick.’’
‘‘Nobody,’’ Ryan said.
‘‘Nicole?’’ Jesse asked.
Nicole said nothing.
By late afternoon, the seas and winds had calmed.
Nicole was asleep; Ryan sat in the cockpit, staring at the horizon.
‘‘What were you two doing out here in the first place?’’ Andy asked.
‘‘None of your business.’’
‘‘Ask for your money back from charm school.’’
Reggie eyed Ryan, and growled.
Ryan backed away. ‘‘Keep that filthy dog away from me.’’
‘‘Perhaps the Coast Guard knows something about you two. Maybe I’ll give them a call.’’
Ryan stood. ‘‘Please, Doctor Reiss… it is Doctor, isn’t it?’’ He paused. ‘‘I saw your picture below with your wife. She’s a nurse.’’
Andy nodded.
‘‘Please, we don’t want the Cubans to know where we are.’’
‘‘Who else did you kill?’’
‘‘No. Please. We were doing missionary work when the Cubans attacked us. We had to defend ourselves. We killed nobody. We needed to get away to Florida. Carlos Mendoza agreed to take us to Miami for a hefty fee. We can’t go back… please.’’
What a load of shit, thought Andy.
‘‘Will you help us enter the United States? We have no papers. We can’t go through immigration.’’
‘‘Are you out of your mind? When we get near Florida, the first thing I’m going to do is call immigration. They’ll have lots of questions for you.’’
I thought that I’d left my paranoia behind in California, but here it is, again, Andy thought. These two may look like All American kids, but they’re lying, and they’re not good at it.
Nicole looks like a sweet teenage girl, but Ryan...?
Into the early evening, the seas remained calm. With an overcast sky and no moon, the ocean had an ominous blackness. Prophecy made a soft bubbling murmur as her hull sliced through the water.
Ryan and Nicole sat in the cockpit; Jesse stood at the helm. Rachel huddled with Reggie in the cockpit, listening to her iPod.
Around midnight, Jesse’s scream awakened Andy from a deep sleep. He rushed above, and found Jesse lying unconscious on the cockpit floor. Ryan stood on the bridgedeck by the companionway with his arm wrapped around Rachel’s neck.
‘‘Daddy… Daddy… he threw Reggie overboard. Please, Daddy, do something!’’
Chapter Fifteen
‘‘Get your fucking hands off my daughter,’’ Andy shouted.
Andy flushed. His hands tingled. Don’t hyperventilate, he thought. If I could get my hands on him, I’d…. control… control… control, he kept repeating to himself.
Ryan tightened his arm around Rachel’s neck. ‘‘You’ll take us to Miami, if you want to keep her alive.’’
When Andy moved toward the helm, Ryan dragged Rachel to the bridgedeck, where he stood and looked around the boat. Ryan’s arm trembled with weakness from holding Rachel.
To Andy’s surprise, Rachel had not panicked, and continued to struggle to get free.
As Andy started forward, Ryan said, ‘‘Don’t. A simple twist of her neck, and it will be all over for her.’’ When Andy returned to the helm, Ryan said, ‘‘It’s nothing personal. You were just unlucky… wrong place at the wrong time.’’
‘‘Why are you doing this?’’
‘‘Change our heading, and set course for Miami, or else.’’
Andy ignored the comment. He stared at the autopilot control cable. He’d have to disconnect it in order to change course. He bent, grasped the handle, and stared at Ryan.
‘‘Do it,’’ Ryan shouted.
Andy disconnected the pilot, and grasped the wheel. Prophecy was running downwind with the boom out on the starboard side. He stared at Rachel, and glanced up at the boom, then back to meet her eyes.
She made an almost imperceptible nod.
Suddenly, Andy turned the wheel sharply to the right, forcing the stern through the breeze, and placing the wind’s force on the opposite side of the mainsail. In seconds, the boom shuddered, hesitated, and swung across the boat’s midline in a violent jibe. The aluminum boom issued a dull thud as it struck Ryan’s head, and sent him reeling into the lifelines, unconscious.
‘‘Are you okay, Rachel?’’
‘‘Where’s Reggie? Where is she?’’
Andy brought the boat up into the wind, and adjusted the sails until the boat was balanced and immobile in the heave-to position.
Jesse sat up on the cockpit floor, shaking her head. ‘‘What happened?’’
Andy and Rachel looked out into the black seas. ‘‘Reggie… Reggie,’’ they shouted. ‘‘Reggie… Reggie, here, girl… here, girl.’’
Andy had that sinking feeling in his gut. In the few minutes spent with Ryan, Prophecy could have easily moved a half a mile or more away from the point where the dog went overboard.
Rachel was crying with near hysteria. ‘‘Find her, Daddy. Please. We have to find her.’’
Andy adjusted the sails to retrace their course, and when they’d covered about a mile, he again brought the boat to a stop.
Andy turned on the spreader lights, hoping that if they couldn’t find Reggie, maybe she’d find them. He then grabbed his halogen spotlight, and scanned the surrounding waters, but there was nothing.
‘‘Reggie… Reggie…’’ Rachel cried as tears streamed down her face.
‘‘I’m so sorry,’’ Andy said. ‘‘I’m so sorry.’’
Andy turned to Jesse. ‘‘Are you okay?’’
‘‘My head hurts like hell, and I’m a little dizzy. I might have a concussion.’’
Rachel ran into her mother’s arms and wept.
When Jesse said, ‘‘she was a good dog,’’ Rachel cried even more at losing her best friend and companion.
After a few minutes, Andy turned to Jesse. ‘‘Get me two large plastic wire ties so I can secure this son of a bitch.’’
She hesitated a second, and then went below. After she returned with the ties, he pulled Ryan’s limp body back into the cockpit, and secured his arms and legs.
‘‘We’ve got to move on,’’ Andy said as he returned to the helm to put the boat back on course.
‘‘No, Daddy… no,’’ Rachel sobbed, ‘‘Not without Reggie.’’
‘‘I’m sorry, Rache. We can’t wait for her. There’s a hurricane coming.’’
Rachel collapsed into her mother’s arms and wept.
The wind suddenly weakened, leaving the night silent for a moment.
Rachel suddenly turned to starboard. ‘‘What’s that?’’
‘‘What’s what?’’ Andy responded.
‘‘That sound.’’
‘‘I don’t hear anything.
‘‘Listen.’’
‘‘That’s fish breaking the surface.’’
‘‘No, Daddy, listen.’’
Andy finally heard it: a soft splashing sound. He moved the spotlight over the water in a circle, and when he reached the point off the starboard beam, he saw her. Reggie’s paws churned with such force that her shoulders stood well above the water surface. Her eyes were wide in panic.
‘‘Reggie… Reggie.’’ They all shouted.
The dog swam to the rear of Prophecy, where her paws tried to grip the bouncing swim step. Andy reached over, and, with his long arm, grasped Reggie by the scruff, and pulled her into the cockpit.
Deadly Passage Page 7
