Chase wasn’t in Vegas. He was on the ferry.
Chapter 27
Panic seared through Kate like wild fire. Trina had turned up dead because she had confronted Chase about Emily’s death. How could Kate have been so foolish as to have done the same thing?
The threat of Joe finding her suddenly felt distant and unreal. Chase was equally dangerous, and he’d be there in a matter of minutes.
Gripping the railing, she started down the stairs. All she had to do was get to the dock, and pray that she could start that motor.
Moving as quickly as her leg would allow, she made it down the stairs and onto the trail. Groaning from pain and effort, she stumbled past the guesthouse to the place where Stuart had accosted her earlier. Her eyes darted around as she made sure she was alone this time. Steeling herself against the pain, she looked at the path ahead. Almost there.
Thank goodness she had left her suitcase on the yacht so she could run and not look back. Her habit of keeping all her most important possessions in one place had always served her well. Automatically, she ticked off her mental inventory. Her sweatshirt. Her favorite jeans. The money pouch. Her photos.
She lurched to a halt. Her photos.
It all came back to her. Sitting at the kitchen island in the guesthouse talking to Josh. She had stashed her photos between the cookbooks, intending to move them later, but she hadn’t.
She reeled around and stared at the guesthouse looming above her. There was no time to vacillate. Those photos were all she had left of her childhood. Of her mother. She had to get them.
Somehow, she managed to pull herself up the stairs while fumbling for the house key in her purse. Praying that she’d make it before Chase arrived and found her there, she scrambled to unlock the back door. As it creaked open, the shadowy kitchen eased into view and an eerie sense that something was wrong crept over her. She reached for the wall next to the door and flicked a light switch, then froze.
All the cabinets and drawers had been flung open, their contents scattered across the floor. In the living room, the cushions had been pulled from the sofas. A lamp lay on its side in the middle of the room.
Panic propelled her back to the doorway, but she stopped. Her photos were just a few feet away. She couldn’t go without them.
She listened. If whoever did this was still in the house, had she made enough noise to alert him to her presence? Gingerly, she limped to the center of the room, hearing nothing but the wind outside and her pulse thrumming through her veins.
Bracing herself against the edge of the kitchen island, she quickly made her way around to the other side and knelt in front of the bookshelf. Just as she began to paw through the volumes, something behind her clicked. A key in the front door. She popped up just as it opened and the shape of a man materialized in the doorway. Her breath caught.
Chase.
She drew back. His normally impeccable appearance had transformed into something careless and desperate. His wild eyes seemed tinged with fear, an emotion she’d never seen him show.
As he stepped into the room, he registered the condition of the house. “Katie…. What happened here?”
She used the counter to steady herself as she scuttled to its other side. “I…I…don’t…” She looked around, gauging the distance to the back door. But even if she made it outside, how could she hope to get down to the dock without him catching up to her?
“We need to go,” he commanded in a tone that left no leeway for discussion. “Quickly, before someone comes.”
Look around, she thought. Someone already has.
“Come on.” Marching toward her, he reached out a hand. “They’ll be here soon.”
Shaking her head, she attempted to draw back. “Who?”
“Reporters…the police.” He rounded the counter with an uncharacteristic swiftness and grabbed her arm. “I expected them to be at the gate, but now it’s only a matter of time.”
As he yanked at her, she cried out in pain. “Chase, my knee!”
Hesitating, he shot her a confused glare. “What about it?”
“I think I sprained it.”
With a disgusted grunt, he hoisted her into his arms and started for the front door.
“Chase, stop!” Trying hard to ignore the amplified pain caused by his hand digging into her leg, she held fast to his shoulders to keep from falling.
He charged through the door he’d left open. Kate shivered, both from the bracing wind and her growing fear.
Grunting with the exertion, he slowed slightly in response to the incline of the trail. “We need to get off the island before the place is overrun.”
“But, where are we going?”
“Never mind.” He struggled to catch his breath. “We’ll talk in the car.”
“But, I—”
“You have to trust me.” Reaching the driveway, he set her on her feet next to his car. “Get in.”
“I don’t understand.” She stepped back as he flung open the passenger door. “Why can’t you just talk to the police?”
Grabbing both of her arms with so much force it made her yelp, he glared at her. “You don’t understand what they’ve got on me, Kate. We have to move!” He shoved her into the car.
The slamming of the door was followed by a soft click. She scrambled for the handle but it wouldn’t budge. Her fingers found the switch for the lock, but the door still held. He had her locked in. Like a child who needed to be restrained.
As he crossed around the front of the car, panic held her in its grip. She had to get away, but how?
He got into the car and started the engine.
“Chase, please tell me where we’re—”
“There’s so much you don’t understand.” His hands shook on the wheel as he started down the driveway.
She stared at him. He was right. She didn’t understand.
Darkness overtook them as he drove out of the open area and onto the part of the driveway that was lined by tall, swaying trees.
“Chase, we can’t leave. There aren’t any more ferries tonight.”
“I keep a seaplane on the other side of the island. Once we’re away from here, I’ll call the pilot.”
“Won’t he know? About the body being found? And that you shouldn’t leave the island?”
“For the right price, he’ll fly us to the moon if I ask him to.”
Her heart raced. That would explain how he had managed to be on the island the night Trina disappeared without anyone knowing. He could buy people’s silence.
“You have to understand, Kate. They want to put me in prison.”
Her stomach reeled. “Oh…?”
“And now that Trina has been found…” He chewed on his lip, clearly not used to things being out of his control.
Suddenly, his eyes widened and the car jolted to a stop. Hurtling toward the dashboard, Kate caught a glimpse of something moving in the driveway ahead. A sheriff’s car. It was Tad!
The squad car swerved at an angle and stopped squarely in front of them. Chase pounded his hand against his steering wheel and barked out an expletive, the intensity of which made Kate cower.
Tad got out of his car and shone a flashlight as he approached. “Chase Cole?” His voice sounded small, as if he wasn’t sure he was up to this. “The sheriff needs to talk to you, sir.”
Chase worked his jaw as his eyes skirted around the car in front of him. Kate drew in a jagged breath. What was he thinking of doing?
Tad stopped a few feet from Chase’s window and waited. Looking ill at ease, He shone the light at Chase, who sat rigid, gripping the wheel and refusing to budge. “I’ll have to bring you in for questioning, Mr. Cole.” He took a couple of steps back. “Wait right there. I’m going to radio our office.”
Chase shifted gears and his car started to move in reverse.
“What are you doing?” Kate shrieked, grasping at the dash and the console between them for support.
Without answering, Chase shifted again an
d started to peel forward.
Whipping around, Tad reached for his holster. Raising his gun, he dove into Chase’s path. “Whoa, stop right there!” He yelled, his voice and hands clearly shaking.
As Chase attempted to run his car through the narrow space between the squad car and the trees, Tad hurtled his body in front of him. There was a sickening thunk, and Tad flew in the air, landing in a heap in front of Chase’s car.
Kate screamed as Chase hit the brake and she flew forward again.
As she pushed herself back from the dash, all was silent except for Chase’s wheezing breath. He stared ahead with fear-filled eyes, but there was no movement outside the car.
“What have I done?” Suddenly, he opened his door and leapt from the car.
Kate leaned forward, watching as he knelt down next to Tad’s prone body.
Emotion rendered her frozen, but only for a moment. Then the sheer will to survive kicked her into action. Without thinking, she slid over into the driver’s seat and shifted the car into reverse. Chase looked up, confusion flashing across his face.
Sitting forward so she could reach the pedals, Kate turned her head, backing the car until she reached the narrow road down to the dock.
Scooting forward in the seat that was adjusted for Chase’s longer legs, she gasped for breath. What was she doing?
She couldn’t second guess herself now. Not when this might be her only chance.
Raindrops pinged against the windshield and she fumbled unsuccessfully to find the switch for the wipers. Giving up the search, she aimed blindly down the drive, relieved to make out a row of dim lights that delineated the edge of the dock.
Reaching level ground, she slammed to a halt and removed the keys from the ignition. A vague thought that Chase must have a key to the yacht on this ring made taking it seem like a good idea.
Yellow tape fluttered in the wind like a flag as she dragged herself out onto the dock.
She tried not to look at the area where she knew the body rested, or to think about poor Tad, who was supposed to be there watching over it. She stumbled to the dinghy, praying that the engine would start this time.
She sat down on the cold, wet dock and slid her body carefully into the unsteady craft. She pulled the start cord. Nothing. She did it a second time. To her relief, the engine came to life. Quickly, she pushed in the choke, looking toward the shore. All she saw was Chase’s car, but no sign of him.
It took everything she had to focus on remembering the steps Sam had taught her, but she managed to pull the boat away from the dock and aim it toward the softly lit form of the yacht. A light rain hit her face and danced down her neck and the small boat rolled on the wavy water.
She fought tears along with nausea. How had her life gone so wildly out of control?
A long minute later, she pulled up next to the yacht, then killed the motor and reached for the metal bar at the edge of the swim platform. She tied the rope at the tip of the dingy to it. Soaked and shivering, she fought the movement of both vessels on the undulating water, and pulled herself onto the wet platform.
Depleted of strength and afraid to stand on the slippery, unstable surface, Kate crawled to the closer of the two stairways that led to the hot tub deck. She grasped at the handrail and managed to pull herself to a standing position on the bottom step, then started up, grateful at least that the rain had subsided.
Hearing an odd sound, she glanced down to her left. Something was in the water, scraping against the side of the boat.
A kayak.
She froze. It hadn’t even occurred to her that Stuart might have come out to the yacht. Her mind raced. Why hadn’t she remembered what Sam had said about him coming out here whenever he needed to talk to her?
Before she could move, a scuffling sound from up on the deck jolted her down to a crouch on the stairs. Expecting to see Stuart, she leaned back and peered through the batwing gate at the top of the stairs.
Her blood ran cold. It wasn’t Stuart.
It was Joe.
Chapter 28
Terror and disbelief engulfed Kate as she bent down and prayed that Joe hadn’t seen her. Her mind whirled. What was he doing on the yacht?
Instinct told her to make a dash for the safety of the dinghy but before she could move, a sound from the deck below caught her attention.
Peering through the space between the stairs and the metal half-wall which concealed her, she saw Stuart stumbling out of the door to the lower bedroom level and onto the swim platform. The boat rolled, and he banged against the wall below the stairway opposite her, dropping something and letting out an expletive.
She looked down as he bent to pick up whatever it was he had dropped. She gasped in recognition. Her money pouch!
Joe must have heard him too, because in an instant he stood at the deck railing, just a few feet away from Kate’s head. She could barely see him through the space between the half-wall and the railing.
“What are you doing?” He shouted down at Stuart. “I thought you left.”
He thought he had left? Did they know each other? Heart pounding, Kate crouched lower, praying that neither of them would see her. The boat rolled on a wave, sending a surge of queasiness through her stomach.
Clutching the pouch to his chest and struggling to maintain his footing, Stuart looked over his shoulder and up at Joe. “I…I had to get something.”
The money. He’d come back to get the money, and he didn’t want Joe to know.
But how had Stuart found it? Had he come here looking for Sam and decided to go through Kate’s suitcase? The thought amplified her queasiness.
And if Joe had tracked her here, why hadn’t he found the money first? Surely he wouldn’t have wasted any time, but he must have started his search elsewhere.
She cringed. The thought of either of them going through her things made her stomach roil. Holding her breath, she prayed that Joe would go back inside and that Stuart would get into the kayak. Then she could safely bolt for the dinghy.
Joe glowered down at Stuart, his gray eyes flaring, as he apparently assessed the situation. Then, lifting his gaze, he scanned the distant shoreline. Watching for her? That prospect made her shiver.
Suddenly, his face darkened. “Wait a minute.”
She followed his gaze. The dinghy! It was a dead giveaway of her presence.
Her eyes flicked up at Joe, who frowned as if trying to remember if it had been there before.
“What’s that?” Joe pointed with his chin as he started for the other stairway.
Kate exhaled, grateful that he hadn’t chosen the stairs on which she hid. She had to act quickly. At the pace he was moving, he’d be able to see her hiding place in a matter of seconds.
Crouching low, she scampered soundlessly to the top of the stairs, then under the batwing gate to where Joe had been standing just a few seconds before. She peered down from under the railing. He now stood right next to where the dinghy was tied. That had been close, but what was she going to do now?
“This boat wasn’t here before, was it?” Joe’s voice sounded over the noise of the wind and the water. “Isn’t this what Kathy was supposed to use to get out here?”
Kathy. The sound of him saying her name made her want to retch.
Looking around, she thought fast. If she moved quickly, she could crawl to the other side of the hot tub. That would conceal her while she made a dash for the door to the salon. Once inside, she could lock herself into a bathroom and call for help.
Ignoring the searing pain in her knee, she prepared to make her move. Joe was angry and had caught on that she was on the boat. She had to hurry or she’d be sunk.
Just as she was about to move, the boat pitched and her purse slipped from her shoulder. As she reached to retrieve it, she saw Stuart stumble again, raising both arms to keep his balance and inadvertently revealing the pouch in his hand.
“Hey.” Joe started toward him. “That’s mine!”
Stuart tried to dive for the
kayak, but Joe flew at him, grabbing for the money.
“It’s not yours. It’s Kate’s.” Stuart wrapped his arms around the pouch and hunched over as Joe tried to get at it.
Looking furious, Joe reached into his shirt pocket. He fingered something, then raised his arm over his head. “Give it to me or I’ll kill you!”
Recognizing the object in Joe’s hand, Kate went numb. A scalpel.
No! Stuart might be a creep, but she couldn’t let Joe kill him over something that was her fault. If only her legs would move, she could call for help. But how long would it take them to arrive?
There was no time. She had to do something now.
She grabbed hold of the railing, then pulled herself to her feet. “No!”
Both men turned to stare up at her.
“Just give him the money, Stuart.” She shouted to be heard over the whipping wind. “It’s not worth it.”
Stuart clung to the cash. “But you said you’d help me.”
She frowned. Was that why he had thought she could buy him a house? He knew about the money even then?
“I’m not kidding, Stuart.” She regarded the scalpel, which Joe had lowered but not retracted. There was no time for discussion. “He says he’ll kill you and he means it.” When Stuart still looked unconvinced, she added, “He’s done it before.”
Joe’s face hardened, a fire of realization igniting in his eyes.
The air left her lungs. What had she just done? If he hadn’t realized before that she knew about Karen, clearly he did now.
Taking a step backward, she waved Stuart toward the kayak. “Hurry, Stuart. Forget about the money. Just go.”
In one swift motion, Joe reeled around, grabbed the pouch out of Stuart’s hands and plunged the scalpel into him.
Stuart made a choking sound then fell back in a heap. Joe pulled the scalpel free and started for the stairs.
Kate gasped. She moved as quickly as she could toward the door to the salon, but Joe grabbed her arms and shoved her forward. Her upper body slammed against the covered hot tub, knocking the wind out of her. She pushed herself around to face him.
Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans) Page 20
