by Jeramy Gates
After dinner, Blake and Angus headed for the bar, not even partaking in the desserts. Blake settled on a stool and began talking quietly to Miguel, who was now working as the bartender. Angus retreated back to the piano with a martini. The Lincolns on the other hand, remained relentlessly engaging.
They were an average middle-aged couple, both slightly overweight, him balding but apparently insistent that a bad comb-over was a better answer than a shaver or surgery, she still dyeing her hair but using a cheap bottled solution that came out less auburn than orange. They both wore glasses, and although George was short, Nancy was shorter. Next to the two of them, I felt like an Amazon.
“I understand it was a very nasty divorce,” Nancy explained at one point, after glancing around to make sure Charlotte hadn’t come back into the room. “Of course, how can you blame Charlotte, the poor thing? I mean, what would you do if Joe was caught having an affair with two girls barely out of high school?”
“Gerard did that?” I said, my eyes wide.
“The sheriff caught him at the local hotel, as I understand,” said George. “And I believe one of the girls was a minor. He only narrowly avoided going to prison over that one.”
“As you can imagine, the whole thing destroyed their standing in the community,” said Nancy. “It nearly ruined Charlotte. She used to depend on business arrangements with the locals. They delivered supplies, took the guests on guided hikes and fishing trips. After what Gerard did, those relationships were ruined.”
“You two seem to know a lot about all of this,” I said.
“It’s not our first visit,” Nancy explained. “The last time we were here, about two years ago, their marriage was on the rocks. The first time we visited, about eight years ago, Gerard and Charlotte were still happily married. Though I shouldn’t say happily, I suppose.”
“I should say not,” said George. “Those two were constantly arguing. Poor Charlotte only had Miguel working for her then, and her father. That was before he died. Gerard wouldn’t help with anything. Anything. The man was absolutely worthless. Charlotte was trying to run the whole place by herself. I knew then that the marriage wouldn’t last. Nobody would stay married to a man like that.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said, thinking of some of the encounters I’d had while working with the FBI.
The conversation then turned to more pleasant matters. We briefly discussed our sailboat, and the weather, and when the Lincolns heard that we were private investigators, Nancy took an immediate interest. She spent the next forty minutes grilling us on our experiences and law enforcement backgrounds. Eventually, Joe excused himself to go to the bar. George and Nancy soon followed to refresh their drinks, and I took advantage of the opportunity to walk over to the windows and get a look at the storm.
I passed the fireplace and resisted the temptation to sink into the lovely sofa there and let the radiant warmth of the flames wash over me. I knew if I did, I’d never get back up. Instead, I walked around the back of the piano, past the fake palm tree, and stood in the corner, taking in the view. Angus was away from the piano for the moment, refilling his glass for the fifth time that hour, and I had the space to myself.
The wind was roaring across the balcony, the rain driving in sheets against the window panes. Lightning arced across the sky, momentarily illuminating the world outside. The ocean below was black, the waves crashing into the beach with such a violent fury that it seemed I should have been able to hear them even from that distance.
I felt a sudden compulsion to hurry back to our room and curl up with a good book, with the fire roaring beside me and the storm hammering against the glass. I believe, for a moment, I seriously considered it. Only there was something missing. Or someone, I should say. I didn’t have my baby.
Autumn was less than a year old, and I hadn’t realized it until just that moment, but this was the first night I’d ever spent away from her. I knew it was silly, but I couldn’t help the feelings of guilt stirring inside me, or the ache in my heart from her absence. Just thinking about her made me want to go scrambling for a phone.
“I’m glad we’re in here and not out there,” Nancy said, appearing beside me.
I nodded my agreement. “I hope the boats will be okay.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” she said. “The shelter of the bay should protect them from the worst of it, so long as they’re tied off adequately. You did make sure of that, didn’t you?”
“Not exactly,” I said with a sheepish smile. “Miguel did it for us.”
She put a reassuring hand on my arm. “I’m sure it will be fine. He’s very conscientious.” She paused, frowning as she tilted her head to the side, and sniffed the air.
“I’m a little worried about our musical friend, though,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Angus. “He’s been drinking so heavily that this entire corner smells like booze.”
“I’ve been trying to ignore it,” I said. I put a hand over my mouth and stifled a yawn.
“You poor thing. You must be exhausted after sailing all the way up the coast and then sitting through such a long dinner. Don’t worry, I understand. George and I are complete bores.”
“No, not at all,” I said, doing my best to sound sincere. “It’s getting late, though. I think I’ll go to bed.”
I turned to leave, and Nancy turned with me. As she moved, she slipped and caught me by the arm. A panicked shriek escaped her lips and wine splashed out of her glass. I helped her regain her balance. When she was steady, she took a step back.
“Good heavens!” she exclaimed. “Look at this mess. Somebody over-watered this plant. I’ll have to tell Dana about this before someone breaks their neck.”
With that, she was off on her new mission. I shook my head and went to collect Joe from the bar. I took him by the arm, and we headed upstairs together. He was as tired as I was, and it took very little coaxing on my part.
When we got back to our suite, I flopped down on the bed, still fully dressed. “That was exhausting,” I said. “I feel like I’ve had the life sucked out of me by a vampire.”
“A psychic vampire,” said Joe. “Where does Nancy get all that energy? She’s more than twenty years older than us.”
“Nancy didn’t spend the day sailing through a hurricane,” I said.
Joe grinned. “Admit it: you had a little fun, didn’t you?”
I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him get undressed. “Joe, your vacation planning privileges have been revoked.”
He crawled under the covers next to me, sliding up close. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
“Yes, you can get me a soda water from the kitchen.”
He glared at me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“No, I’m not. That wine was too acidy. My stomach hurts.”
Joe rolled his eyes. To my surprise, he didn’t complain about the fact that he’d just undressed and crawled into bed. He actually got back out of bed, threw on a bathrobe, and without so much as a hint of complaint, headed down the hall.
I took my tablet from the nightstand and turned it on. I was hoping to get some face-time with my baby girl before going to sleep. When Joe got back a few minutes later, I was still fussing with it. He handed me the soda water and said, “What are you doing?”
“I can’t seem to get any internet.”
“I’m not surprised. Have you looked outside? The storm probably knocked out the lines.”
“I’m not talking about the wifi; I knew that wouldn’t work. I’m trying to use my cellular hotspot, but I can’t even get a cell connection.”
“Maybe you should try it out in the hallway. Or the balcony,” he added with a grin.
“Very funny. Keep making jokes like that, and you’ll be sleeping on the balcony.” I powered it down and tossed it unceremoniously onto the chair next to me. “I’ll try again in the morning.”
I drank a few gulps of soda water and then turned out the light. I must have been a
sleep in seconds. At some point, the sound of someone knocking on the door roused me. I could have sworn I’d only been asleep for a few minutes, but I glanced at the clock and saw that it was five a.m. The knock came again, rapid, almost desperate. I nudged Joe.
“Somebody’s at the door,” I said. “I’m not dressed.”
“Neither am I.”
“Just answer it!”
Joe threw back the covers and stumbled across the room in his faded purple boxer-briefs that used to be blue, once upon a time before I told him to do a load of laundry. He pulled the door open and found himself face to face with Charlotte. She started to speak and then stammered a little apology as she looked him up and down.
“I’m uh… I’m sorry to wake you.” She locked eyes with him. “I thought you might want to know, your sailboat’s about to wreck.”
Joe blinked. He wasn’t quite awake yet. “What?”
“The Neptune got loose. I think it’s going to hit your sailboat. I’ve got Miguel working on it, but he can’t move it by himself. I didn’t know what else to do!”
Now he was wide awake.
Joe slid into his jeans and dashed out the door, shirtless and shoeless. He didn’t even think to grab his cane. He disappeared down the hallway, leaving Charlotte standing there mumbling another apology. She left as I crawled out of bed and threw on a robe.
I went out to the balcony, hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on. It was still raining, and the wind coming off the bay was fierce. Down below, I saw Joe half-running, half-limping down to the docks. Through the fog, I caught a glimpse of the Neptune out on the bay, drifting toward the Agatha at a fast clip. It was sideways, teetering on the waves, pushed along by the wind. The moment seemed surreal, especially considering the way we had barely avoided a collision with that same boat upon our arrival.
“This vacation is officially cursed,” I grumbled.
Chapter 6
Joe
The storm was pounding the coast with a vengeance. The wind howled, the rain was more or less horizontal, and the half-frozen raindrops drove like shards of glass into my skin. If one of the other guests happened to look outside at just that moment, he would have seen me flying down the hill with a wild look in my eyes nothing on but a pair of jeans.
I was running as fast as my legs could carry me -which wasn’t nearly as fast as I wanted it to be- and every step sent waves of pain rolling up and down my left leg. The dock boards were slick and dangerous under my feet. I was tired, I was sore, and I was cold. But none of those things mattered. I was about to watch the boat I’d spent the better part of a year restoring sink into an icy grave. That was the only thing on my mind.
I arrived to find that Miguel had untied the Agatha from her moorings, and he was trying to tow her up the dock and out of the Neptune’s path by hand. It was a brave move, considering one good tug on that rope would have given him a dunking in the icy bay. I waved at him as I ran up.
“Forget it!” I said. “You’ll never move her by hand.”
He let the line go slack. I approached the boat broadside, looking for a chance to climb aboard. The Agatha heaved up and down on the waves, rocking against the bumpers.
“Cut her loose when the engine starts,” I said.
Miguel could see what I was up to. “Don’ do it,” he said in his thick Spanish accent. “Dat wind will wreck you.”
I turned my head, watching the nearby boats riding the waves up and down. He was right. If I cut the Agatha loose long enough to move her, I’d never get her back to the dock. Not until the storm broke, anyway. That could be hours, or even days. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much choice. If I left her tied there, the Neptune would destroy her.
“The Agatha can handle rough water,” I said to Miguel. “She was built for it.”
He looked at me like I was a madman. I didn’t care. I had to get my boat away from the Neptune. If I had to leave the bay and head into open water, so be it. I’d stay out there a week if I had to.
I watched the deck rise and fall, and when I saw my opening, I hopped aboard. Hop being a relative term. If I had literally hopped, the crushing pain of my landing would have left me crying on the deck like a baby. Instead, I swung over the handrail as the boat dropped next to me, and I intentionally landed on my good leg. The boat shifted as I moved, and I almost ended up falling on my butt anyway, but my grip on the rail saved me.
The landing was a bit rough, but it wasn’t enough to slow me down. As soon as both feet were on deck, I raced over to the console to start up the diesel. I glanced back at Miguel as I primed the engine. A dark frown creased the Mexican’s features, and he shook his head at me.
“Are you loco? You’re gonna sink!”
“I’m taking her out,” I said. “I’ve got to. I’ll be fine, once I get past the breakers.” I turned the key and the engine fired right up. “At least one thing’s working right,” I mumbled.
Miguel tossed the mooring lines over. I pushed the throttle forward, easing the RPMs up to speed. As I started to pull away, I glanced over just in time to see Miguel climbing aboard. He made an overhead motion, circling his hand in the air.
“Go!” he shouted.
I grinned. I hadn’t been counting on his help, but it was welcome. I revved up the engine and cut hard to port, breaking straight into the waves. The Agatha rolled like a buoy in a hurricane. For one heart-stopping moment, the waves caught the bow and pushed back, driving her straight into the docks. Thankfully, the bumpers were still in place. They absorbed most of the impact, and may have saved my boat.
As we started moving, the stern grazed the boardwalk and the aft end let out a loud shriek. Miguel leaned over the rail to check for hull damage. He said that it was okay, so I gunned the engine and steered her into the storm.
The Neptune was coming in fast on our port side. I gave out a few blasts on the horn, just in case Jacob was on the boat. It was possible that he had fallen asleep in the cabin. For all I knew, he may have lived in that thing.
There was no response. Since he apparently wasn’t on the boat, I assumed it must have broken free in the storm. That was one more thing the two of us were going to have words about. Even the dumbest rookie wouldn’t neglect to secure his boat in a storm like this. I had double-checked Miguel’s knots when we arrived to make sure they met my satisfaction. They had, which was why my boat had still been safely tethered where I left her, while Jacob’s was drifting across the bay.
I made some quick mental calculations: I had enough power to avoid a head-on collision, maybe even to get around the Neptune safely, so long as the wind didn’t shift. But it occurred to me that even if I got out of the way, that boat could still do a lot of damage. There were several other boats at the pier, and the Neptune could easily destroy any -or all- of them. In fact, if Jacob’s boat hit the main pier hard enough, there might be nothing left for me to come back to. I’d have to sail all the way back to Bodega. Somehow, I doubted Tanja would understand me abandoning her on the Lost Coast.
From that perspective, I really didn’t have much choice. As much as it left a foul taste in my mouth, I was going to have to try to rescue Jacob’s boat for him. I glanced at Miguel, wondering if I’d be able to recruit him for my insane mission. If he had the slightest amount of brains, he’d flat-out refuse. Then again, if that were the case he wouldn’t have been on the boat with me, either. The way I saw it, we were like kindred souls. Kindred moron souls.
As the Neptune went careening past us, I jerked my head to the side and yelled at Miguel, “Grab the rope!”
He frowned at me for a second. His eyes widened a little as he realized what I was asking, and then he made a split-second decision. He leaned over the rail, hanging suspended over the water by one arm as he tried to snatch the trailing rope out of the waves. Miguel’s left hand splashed in the water and came up empty.
I cut the engine to give him more time. I scanned the deck, looking for a pole or some other thing to use to catch the rope, an
d found nothing but an old oar. Just when I thought we’d lost it, Miguel let out a wild “Hoo-rah!”
He held the end of the rope up proudly as I glanced in his direction. He tried to clamber back aboard, but couldn’t pull himself up from that angle. I caught him by the arm, dragging him back upright. In seconds, he was back on his feet.
“Tie it down!” I said as I went lurching back to the controls.
Miguel secured the rope to one of the Agatha’s cleats, and for the next few seconds, all we could do was watch. The Neptune continued its slow interminable movement towards the docks, inch by inch taking up the slack in the rope. The wind howled around us, and we narrowed our eyes to slits to keep out the rain and the sea spray.
“We’re moving too fast,” I said. “If we’re not careful, we’ll lose it.”
Miguel nodded that he understood. He moved to the stern and picked up the rope in both of his hands. He leaned back, bracing himself as the Neptune drifted away from us. I caught my breath. I could see what he was thinking, but it wasn’t quite sane. He meant to use his own body strength as a sort of buffer to keep the rope from pulling too hard. It was a terrible idea. Yeah, it might work, but in the back of my head, a voice was saying that if that rope went tight too fast, it would take Miguel right over the rail. If that happened, the odds were slim that he would ever make it back to shore. The water was too cold, the storm too powerful, and the distance too great. Not to mention the two boats blowing wild in the wind, capable of turning any direction in an instant. If they collided, they would leave a swath of wreckage all the way to the beach.
In the distance, the Neptune careened over a wave. I shook my head at my own stupidity as I joined him at the stern. I couldn’t let Miguel take that risk alone. If that boat took us down, we were going down together.
“Hang on!” Miguel shouted as the rope started to go tight. I leaned back, pulling all my weight against it. The rope gave a jerk. The force slammed Miguel up against the rail, and my feet went out from under me. I landed hard on my backside. I glanced up at Miguel and saw him bending over the top of the safety rail, still clinging desperately to the rope. He was moments away from sliding over the edge.
