Enduring Charity: A Charity Styles Novel (Caribbean Thriller Series Book 4)

by Wayne Stinnett

  Once they reached the hard-packed sand on the far side of the island, they were able to move faster. Charity still wasn’t sure what she was doing. Both Fiona and Leilani were part of the group who’d murdered Victor. Jesse had shown her Chyrel’s email, and after talking to Leilani, they’d adjusted their plan once more.

  “My name’s Charity, and no, I’m not with any police.”

  “Where’s Leilani?” Fiona asked.

  Charity pointed toward the Revenge, about a hundred yards farther down the beach. “She’s on the boat with friends of mine. We’ll make sure you and she are safe, while my friends and I dispose of the Pences.”

  Fiona hurried to keep up. “What do you mean by dispose of? They both can be very violent.”

  “Not nearly as violent as I can be,” Charity replied. “You’ll just have to trust me on that. The Pences will be going away for a long time, possibly forever.”

  Together, the two women hurried down the beach to the waiting boat. “We’ll have to get wet,” Charity said, as she angled toward the surf, pulling her dress up over her head. She wore the swimsuit beneath it. “Don’t worry, it’s not over your head.”

  “I’m not exactly dressed for a swim,” Fiona said.

  “No other way out there,” Charity replied.

  Fiona hesitated only a moment, then unbuttoned her blouse and wiggled her skirt down over her hips. She quickly joined Charity, already moving toward the large yacht. Reaching knee deep water, the boat’s engines roared to life.

  Holding their clothes above their heads, the two of them reached the back of the boat in minutes. Tony was waiting on the swim platform to help them out of the water. Charity waited as Fiona climbed the ladder. Tony, ever the gentleman, quickly draped a large towel over her shoulders.

  “You can get dressed inside,” he said to Fiona. “Don’t mind the dog. He won’t hurt anyone.”

  Charity climbed up and moved past Fiona. “This way,” she said, toweling off by the open salon hatch.

  Leilani waited inside, feet up on the couch, watching Finn with a wary eye. Charity held the hatch open and told Finn to leave. The dog immediately did as he was told.

  Once he was gone, Leilani jumped off the couch and hugged Fiona tightly. “I’m glad you’re coming, too. These people are going to help us start over again.”

  “But how?” Fiona said, confused. “Mister Pence said he saw you and Brent leaving together on a boat. He sent someone to kill you.”

  Leilani glanced over at Charity. “These people got to us first. But Brent tried to pull a gun. He’s dead.”

  “It’s a long story,” Charity said. “For now, let’s get you out of those wet things. Follow me.”

  Charity led Fiona to the forward cabin, the sound of the anchor chain rattling in the forepeak ahead of it. “There’s a shower there on the right, if you want it. Once you get dressed, come up to the fly bridge.”

  “What about the dog?” Leilani asked.

  “Finn wouldn’t hurt a thing,” Charity said. “Well, except clams, that is.” Noting the fear in the woman’s eyes, she added, “I’ll wait for you in the galley.”

  “Where’s that?” Leilani asked.

  “The kitchen,” Fiona replied.

  Charity nodded. “I need to put some coffee on anyway.”

  When she left, Charity closed the door behind her, leaving the two women to talk. Although she could hear their voices, she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Fiona sounded anxious and Leilani seemed to be doing her best to console her.

  After setting up the coffee maker, Charity got two insulated thermos bottles out of the cupboard, then went over to the intercom and punched the button for the bridge. “We’re all set down here,” she said. “Just go easy, these ladies don’t have their sea legs yet and I’m pouring coffee.”

  “Roger that,” Jesse’s voice replied through the tinny sounding speaker. “We’ll be at Henry’s place in less than four hours. We’ll need to refuel there, then another two hours to Little Stirrup.”

  “What time will the—”

  “Not till oh eight hundred,” Tony interrupted. “We can deliver the packages before dawn with hours to spare.”

  “Since I’m not going to be flying,” Charity said, feeling more self-assured and hearing it in her own voice, “I’ll take a turn at watch.”

  “You can have first watch,” Jesse said, “along with our guests.”

  Always nudging without seeming to do so, Charity thought, grinning, and looking up at the ceiling.

  “First watch,” she replied. “Copy that.”

  Below her feet, Charity heard the solid clunk of the transmissions dropping into gear. The boat shuddered for a moment as the large propellers bit into the water. She felt the boat begin to move and the engine revs stepped up a notch.

  Fiona came out of the cabin first. “Where are you taking us?”

  Charity leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Andros Island, about a hundred and forty miles west of here.”

  Fiona had put her blouse and skirt back on, but still had nothing on her feet. “And what do you plan to do to us there?”

  “Nothing at all,” Charity replied, anticipating the question. “The guy who owns this boat has a friend there. You can stay with him until we get back, or you can leave if you want. But if you’re still there when we return, I’ll arrange to have new identities made for both of you and we’ll come up with some way for you to get wherever you want to go.”

  “Just like that,” Fiona said. It was a statement, not a question. “And what do you get out of it?”

  “Another night with little sleep,” Charity replied, filling the first thermos. “And I’ll be out whatever money I give you two so you can start over.” That brought a quizzical look from both women. “On the plus side,” she continued, “I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing I put the five criminals who orchestrated Rene’s murder behind bars. And I’ll walk away having helped two comparative innocents find a new way. The last part is up to you two.”

  “How do we know you can do any of this?” Fiona asked.

  The boat’s engines slowly started to increase in pitch and Charity felt the surge in speed. “You don’t know,” she said. “We’re getting underway and the three of us are taking first watch. The men only got a few hours’ sleep last night. Let’s finish this conversation up top, so they can get some rest.”

  Filling the second thermos, Charity handed one to each of the women, grabbed two plastic mugs, and nodded toward the rear for them to follow. Outside, she saw Finn lying in the corner of the cockpit. The big lab mix lifted his head crookedly, raising his ears.

  “Stay put, Finn,” Charity cautioned.

  Tony was standing at the rail, and Charity handed the mugs and thermoses up to him. Leilani moved to the ladder first, practically leaping over the two fish boxes mounted in the deck, and then went up the ladder as fast as she could.

  Tony directed the women to the forward seating area, just in front of the helm, cautioning them to keep at least one hand on a grab rail at all times. Leilani was more cautious than Fiona, who seemed to be more at ease on the big charter boat.

  Once they were seated, Tony went down the ladder without saying a word, and Charity moved behind Jesse to the second seat.

  “I have the course set on the autopilot,” Jesse said. “The radar warning is set for ten miles.”

  “I promise I won’t break anything,” Charity said, as Jesse rose and stepped out from behind the helm. He tousled her hair, then disappeared down the ladder.

  “Fiona,” Charity called forward, “you seem to know your way around a boat. Why don’t you come back here and help me out. You too, Leilani. The more eyes the better.”

  The two women moved to the back of the bridge, Leilani sitting at the end of the side bench nearest the helm. Once they were se
ttled, Charity pushed the throttles slowly forward until the boat was going right at thirty-five, then backed down to hold that speed.

  The unlikely trio rode in silence for a while, Charity doing what she figured Jesse would do, letting them have time to formulate what they wanted to say.

  “Why are you doing this?” Fiona asked. “There’s gotta be a payday in it for you somehow.”

  Charity mulled the question over for a moment, before speaking. “We’re not all that dissimilar,” she said. “My biological mother abandoned me and my dad when I was little. He died when I was seventeen.”

  “I bet you were never raped,” Fiona mumbled.

  Charity looked over at her, meeting her eyes with her own, searching for a soul that had to still be there. She knew enough about both women’s backgrounds that she didn’t have to ask them that question.

  “Yeah,” she said, softly. “I have.”

  Charity went on to tell them her story, beginning when her father and uncle died. She told them about her experience at the hands of Afghan terrorists, which seemed to strike a chord with both women. She explained to them who Jesse and Tony were, though she didn’t use their real names, and told them of some of their missions together with Homeland Security. She kept it brief and didn’t go into a lot of detail about the missions she was sent on solo. Some things were better not shared.

  The two women asked questions and seemed to relax a little, seeming to accept Charity as a kindred spirit if nothing else. Fiona told her about her own life; about growing up in an orphanage and constantly being overlooked due to her age. She didn’t remember much about her parents, they’d died when she was four. She’d been molested in foster care, grew up fast in the orphanage, and ran away when she was fourteen. She’d been living off the streets since then, doing whatever she needed to do to survive.

  Both women’s stories were tragic. They’d each been abused, one by her kidnappers and the other by those in the very system put in place to protect them.

  If anyone deserves a second shot, Charity thought, it’s these two.

  They rode in silence for a while, each absorbing the information learned about the others. Thankfully, the sea was calm, just long low rollers that became visible for a brief second when the moon hit them at just the right angle, reflecting off each one’s glassy shoulder. They stretched all the way to the horizon.

  The wind covered most of the engine sound, and it was surprisingly quiet riding ten feet above the water.

  “Any idea where you’d like to go?” Charity finally asked, after they’d talked for over an hour.

  “You’re serious?” Fiona said. “You can help us go anywhere?”

  “I can, and I will,” Charity replied, feeling more self-assured. “The question is, can you change your lives to make the effort worthwhile?”

  “I’ll do anything to keep from going back to them,” Fiona said, studying the instruments in front of her. “What do we have to do?”

  “Do you sail?” Charity asked.

  The boat drove itself, needing no input from Charity, sitting at the wheel. Fiona had experience on boats, but nothing as large as the one she was currently on. The instruments weren’t all that different from another boat she’d spent some time on. It had belonged to a man in San Diego and was much slower.

  Barry had also promised her a new life, but Fiona eventually learned that the new life he’d promised included her being used as his punching bag. He’d never hit her in the face, and rarely left any bruises, but he’d broken a rib once. He enjoyed rough, unrestrained sex.

  She’d been working the streets when Barry had found her. She had a few regular Johns who paid enough for her to make ends meet in a crummy little apartment. Barry had promised her a lot of things if she gave up that life. She’d had fun with him at first. She was only nineteen at the time and he’d been in his thirties, a moderately successful attorney. But the man had a dark side that came out when they were out on his boat, far from shore.

  The radar was showing a large landmass ahead, still eight miles away from the looks of it. “We’re nearing shore,” she said to Charity.

  “Would you mind going down and waking Stretch?” Charity asked. “He’s probably asleep on the pull-out sofa-bed in the salon.”

  “The big, hairy, white guy?”

  “Yeah, tell him we’re about ten minutes from the barrier reef.”

  Fiona rose and went down the ladder. The dog was no longer in the back of the boat. She figured the man had taken it inside. She pulled the door open and stepped up into the cabin, almost colliding with the tall man called Stretch.

  “I, uh, was just coming to get you,” she stammered.

  Though she was average height at five-seven, he could probably rest his chin on the top of her head. And she hadn’t missed the man’s powerful-looking arms and chest.

  “Yeah,” he replied a bit gruffly, holding up a metal thermos, like it should have been obvious. “Just on my way up.”

  Stepping back out the door, Fiona heard a thumping noise from below the floor. The man ignored it, so she didn’t think it was anything serious. She turned and looked up at him. “Is this your boat?”

  “Uh huh,” he grunted, stepping past her, and climbing the ladder. He held the handle of the thermos firmly between his teeth as he climbed. Fiona had a momentary vision of a pirate boarding a ship with a knife held in his mouth.

  She followed him up the ladder. He was much older than her twenty-two years. Probably older than Barry, she thought. But where Barry was short and a little pudgy around the middle, with both a receding hairline and a bald spot on the back of his head, this man was tall, all sinew and muscle, and would probably be one of those men who’d still have a full head of gray hair when he reached his eighties. She wondered just how old he was.

  “Move over,” he ordered, handing Charity the thermos.

  She quickly complied, rising and moving over to Fiona’s seat. Fiona joined Leilani on the side bench. Every man Fiona had ever known had only been interested in one thing, but this man seemed above it all.

  Charity removed the screw-on cup, then twisted the lid to the pouring position and filled the cup. Once the man was seated, she handed it to him, then turned to Fiona and Leilani. “Stretch can be grumpy until he’s had a jolt of caffeine.”

  “No, I’m not,” Stretch mumbled as he studied the radar, then took a long drink from the cup. He switched off the auto-pilot and turned the wheel slightly to the right while watching the chart plotter.

  “What do you do for a living, Stretch?” Fiona asked.

  “I drive this boat,” he replied. “Charter fishing and diving mostly.”

  “Is Henry expecting us?” Charity asked.

  “Yeah.” Stretch checked his watch and flipped a switch on the dash. “We’re right on time. He probably already hears us coming.”

  Fiona recognized the screen that lit up, even under the subdued lighting. He pulled back on the throttles and the boat slowed. Far ahead, she heard waves splashing against rock.

  Stretch bent and studied the chart plotter, turning the wheel slightly. Then he stood and looked out over the front of the boat, glancing occasionally at the sonar screen.

  “You know your way through the reef?” Fiona asked.

  “Got a coupla spots marked on the plotter,” he replied, without looking over. “Then I just follow the forward scanning sonar. You know this reef?”

  “No,” Fiona replied. “I’ve never been here before. She said to tell you we were nearing a barrier reef.”

  “The third longest fringing barrier reef in the world,” he replied.

  “Who is Henry?” Leilani asked.

  “An old guy I know. He was friends with my grandfather; that’s how old. Owns a little charter business with a few cabanas for his guests. You’ll be completely safe there. He’ll see that you’re comforta
ble and well fed, that I can guarantee.”

  By the light of the moon, Fiona could see a line of churning, white water stretching off to both sides of the boat. Once clear, Stretch pushed the throttles forward and sat back down. He concentrated on the chart plotter and sonar. Fiona leaned past Leilani and looked at the screens. He was following what looked like a shallow channel.

  With the shoreline approaching, Stretch finally slowed the boat. It settled down in the water, and he steered toward an opening in the trees that the moonlight revealed just before they entered it. Obviously, it was the kind of place you could only find if you knew it was there. Through the trees, Fiona could see lights.

  Stretch steered the big boat into a channel that looked like it dead-ended just ahead. As they approached the end. Fiona could see that it didn’t end but turned to the left. Standing, Stretch used the throttles and somehow turned the boat much more sharply than she thought he should be able to. Again, it looked like a dead end, but the lights she’d seen earlier were closer, just beyond the trees on their right. The lights clearly showed the canal turning that way up ahead.

  Rounding the second bend, the boat entered a large lagoon with a long dock. Several boats were tied up to it; two were big like the one she was on, but there were several other smaller boats. Beyond the dock was a row of small houses, the one on the left larger than the others.

  As they idled slowly toward the dock, Fiona saw what looked like gas pumps, which Stretch turned toward. There was a slight, gray-haired man standing next to the pumps with a much younger black woman.

  The black man came out of the cabin below. Leilani had told her earlier that his name was Malcolm, but Fiona didn’t think that was his real name. He moved quickly to the front of the boat, where he threw a line to the old man. Then he moved to the back, putting fenders over the side, and threw another line to the black woman.

  Stretch turned off the engines and turned to face her and Leilani. “That’s Henry and Angelique,” he said. “They’ll put you up in two of those little cabins over there until we get back.”