Only Emma

by Rc Bonitz

  A moment later, Emma scrambled to the bow of the boat and struggled to release the mooring line. The last thing Lissey saw of them was the two boats, tied together, heading out of the harbor, Emma at the wheel of Fantasy, Jake nowhere in sight.

  Standing in the doorway, too shocked to move, Lissey could not stop the tears stinging her eyes. Was Jake dead? Oh God, no, that couldn't be. That man, that miserable horrible man.

  Clinging to the life jacket, Terrio struggled toward the dock. Lissey dashed to meet him, stopping only long enough to grab an oar from the dinghy rack. Rushing out on the dock as Terrio reached it, she raised the oar above her head and brought it down like a spear on the man's shoulder.

  "Aargh, what the hell," Terrio screamed.

  Lissey raised the oar again and then again, trying to smash him in the face. "You shot him. You bastard, you shot him!" Hands grabbed at her, trying to stop her. "Let go, I'm going to kill him. Let go, damn it."

  "It was an accident. Get her away from here!" Terrio bellowed.

  "Lissey stop," Maria Sarano shouted, tugging at her.

  Strong arms suddenly pinned hers against her sides. "Hold on there, Lissey, hold on," Sam said and drew her away from the edge of the dock so Terrio could pull himself out of the water.

  "Keep her away from me. She's nuts." Terrio snarled, clutching his left arm.

  "Shut up you. You're lucky we didn't let her kill you," Maria said.

  "I want her arrested," Terrio barked.

  Sam grunted. "Bad luck, bud. She is the Police. And you know what? You were resisting arrest. We're witnesses, right Maria?"

  Trembling with emotion, Lissey slowly regained control of herself. Her rage dissipated as an icy calm settled in her heart.

  Sam released her and stepped back. "You okay now girl?"

  She nodded, not taking her eyes off the soggy and bedraggled form that was Terrio. "Where's the gun?"

  Terrio shrugged. "I lost it when I fell overboard."

  "Get some line Dad, will you? Let's tie this creep up until I can get in touch with Kirby over on the big island."

  "You can't do that," Terrio snarled.

  "It's either that or I kill you now," Lissey said.

  Terrio may have had ideas of resisting, but Henri and Simon joined them on the dock and he submitted meekly to Sam's ministrations. He was soon trussed up like a roast ready for an oven.

  "Where are we going to put him?" Maria said.

  "I've got that storage room we can lock him in," Henri said.

  "We ought to tie him to a tree. Let him rot outside in the sun," Sam added.

  Lissey shook her head. "Take him, Henri. Thank you."

  She stared out over the harbor, anger dried up, replaced by a frightened pain that began to overwhelm her. Jake was gone, there was no sign of his boat or Louis's launch. Would she ever see him again? Was he still alive? The ache in her heart felt so overwhelming.

  "They'll be okay, Lis," Sam said beside her.

  "He's been shot, Dad. He might be dead."

  "Maybe Louis is taking him to hospital on Great Casque."

  She drew a deep breath. Maybe her father had it right. Louis had probably saved Jake's life by getting him away from Terrio. By kicking the creep over the side. She had to trust the man, had to believe.

  "You could raise them on the radio if they're headed for the big island," Maria said.

  Lissey smiled through her tears and hurried back to the shop.

  "What happened?" Lavinia said as she entered.

  "I have to call," she said and grabbed the radio mic. "Louis, this is Lissey. Come in."

  Her voice broke as she spoke. Louis did not reply.

  "Is Jake all right?" Lavinia asked, patting Lissey on the arm.

  "He's shot. I don't know." She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and tried again. Three separate calls brought no response. Her tears began again.

  Lavinia hugged her silently as the others reached the shop.

  Lissey did not know what to do with herself. Heart crushed by fear and pain, feeling as if she had nowhere to turn, there was no future left before her, she began to wring her hands.

  "Louis might be treating Jake's wound. That's why he's not answering the radio," Maria said.

  "What can he do?" Sam said.

  "I've shown him a few things. First aid, you know."

  "If he's going to the big island he'll want the fast boat. He'll leave Jake's sailboat behind," Henri said. "We can look for it."

  "My boat, let's go," Sam said.

  "I'm going too," Lissey cried.

  Sam shook his head. "Maria should go. In case we find them, she's the nurse. You stay here by the radio."

  "But—"

  "You've got the strongest radio. And you know who to call on Great Casque, the doctor and all," Sam said and headed for the docks, Henri and Maria at his heels.

  Rubbing her hand across her forehead, Lissey watched them go. She should be with them: what if Jake was dying, she should be with him. But they were right. She could be more help with the radio. There were people to call, Kirby Wittingham and Doc Brinker and Marcus Digby over in Kikitap. Louis would probably run in to Marcus's dock if he went to the big island. Doc could meet them there.

  Her heart lifted momentarily. She had something to do, a way to help, be useful, save Jake.

  Marcus was sympathetic and helpful as always. He promised to get hold of Doc and get him on a fast boat so he could help before Louis got to shore. Kirby, as usual, stuck to ridiculous routine, wanting every last detail of what had happened before he'd agree to pick up Terrio.

  "I'll need to interview the victim," Kirby finally said.

  "He's wounded. I don't know where he is," Lissey shrieked, her entire body shaking with frustration.

  "Well, I can't charge this man Terrio with a crime unless we have a victim. Is the fellow dead?"

  "Forget it. We'll keep him tied up here." Lissey punched the “off” button on her mobile and hurled it across the room.

  Lavinia frowned. "You need to calm down. You had no business screaming at Kirby like that."

  "Bloody hell, the man's an ass."

  "You're acting like this Jake was your husband."

  Lissey gave her mother a fierce glare. "He is. Almost."

  Lavinia slapped her hand on the table she was sitting at. "You can't be serious. You're doing it again."

  "Doing what?"

  "Going crazy over another boat hobo. What is wrong with you child?"

  Lissey quirked an eyebrow at her. "I am not a child and I'm not crazy."

  "Well, you're impetuous then. Irresponsible, rash and impulsive."

  "Are you sure there's nothing else wrong with me? Jake may be dying and all you can do is criticize."

  Lavinia stepped to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. "I'm just trying to get you to be sensible. The man is just another Ramon."

  Lissey shook her head. "You are not even close to being right on that. He's nothing like Ramon." She poured a cup of coffee for herself, but her hands were shaking so much she almost spilled it.

  Her mother put her arms around her in a hug. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

  "Life is full of hurt and risks. You have to jump when you get the chance." Lissey grinned. "Where did I get that from?"

  "My daughter the philosopher," Lavinia murmured but her eyes were not smiling. She stepped out on the verandah, then started down to the docks.

  Happy to see her go, Lissey turned as the radio squawked, but the call was from one fishing boat to another, the caller gloating over the size of a fish he'd caught. Lissey picked up the mic, then put it down. She couldn't tell everyone to stay off the air while she waited for word about Jake. She wanted to though, by God she did.

  An interminable silent hour of pacing, fidgeting and numerous cups of coffee later, Sam's boat entered the harbor, followed shortly by Jake's white sailboat. Sam tied up to the buoy Jake had been using. Trembling, Lissey grabbed the radio mic.


  "Did you find him?" she cried.

  There was a burst of static and then Sam answered, "I'm sorry, Lis. No."

  Henri put the sailboat in an empty slip on A dock. Lissey ran to meet him and help tie it off.

  "We found it about two miles out," Maria said as she secured a line to the dock.

  "Leave it be, Lissey. Let me clean it up first," Henri said as she grabbed the rigging and prepared to swing herself aboard.

  She ignored him and stepped up on the boat. One look at the blood in the cockpit brought tears to her eyes again.

  "I'll—" Henri started.

  "Never mind. I'll take care of it," Lissey muttered.

  "Are you sure?" Maria asked doubtfully.

  Lissey nodded, unable to speak.

  Henri opened his mouth, about to say something, but Maria grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

  Jake had a scrub brush in a bucket in the port side stern locker. Somehow she knew that was where he'd keep something like that. A canister of scrubbing powder nestled next to the brush, just what she needed. She brought a hose aboard from the dock, filled the bucket, and set to work, determined to wash away all signs of Jake's wound. The sticky blood slowly ran down the scuppers, taking her tears with it.

  He couldn't be dead. He had to be all right. But so much blood? He had to be all right. Her hands shook as she rinsed the bucket and put it away.

  What would she do if he were dead? What would happen to Emma? She couldn't live with grandparents who were responsible for killing her father. Accident, hell, she just knew Terrio fired the gun deliberately.

  An idea came out of nowhere, but it was right, she knew it was. Right and simple. She'd repaint the boat, change the rigging so it wouldn't be so easily identified. She and Emma, they'd go off like Jake had done, moving through the Caribbean, even off to Tahiti or Hawaii. Terrio had no pictures of her to splash around, they'd get away with it. Emma liked her, maybe even loved her already. "I'll take care of her, Jake," she whispered and choked back more tears.

  Lissey slipped into the cabin. Was that imagination or the musky scent of a man? Of Jake. She brushed a hand across her eyes and hugged herself. This would be hard, but she had to take inventory, see what she'd need to make the idea work.

  Jake's clothes were underneath the quarter berth. They'd have to be moved. Not tossed, she'd keep them for Emma. Her stuff could go there and she'd sleep in his bunk.

  A drawer under the charting table held chargers for the mobile phones still scattered on the other quarter berth. She'd have plenty of time, once they made their escape, to play with that kind of stuff. Checking the hanging locker, she found rain gear in two sizes and a neatly hung pair of khaki slacks, the ones he'd worn the other night. She choked back a sob. He had to be all right. Had to be. She shook herself. Stick to the task at hand.

  Food wouldn't be a problem. She could raid the shop and stock up for a month or so. A shiver ran through her as another thought hit. Food for a month, yes, but what then? She didn't have the money to go on after that. She'd have to find work wherever they landed. Stay for a month or so, keep Emma on the boat when she worked. Impossible, they'd be caught in a minute.

  She plopped down on the quarter berth and dropped her head in her hands. Hopeless, the whole idea was stupid. She'd never get away with it.

  Jake had to survive, they needed him. She needed him. A sob caught in her throat and she hugged herself. Loved him, that was it. She wanted him in her life forever.

  Humidity hung like a soggy sponge in the air as Lissey trudged back to the shop. She wanted Jake Wainright in her life, that she knew for sure. She loved him. Not some paper pushing, weekend golfing, suburbanite kind of guy. Somebody daring and resourceful, interesting and lovely. Jake. He had to be alive, had to recover. She would go anywhere to live with him. Anywhere.

  Lavinia greeted her as she entered the shop. "Where have you been? Everybody's trying to reach you."

  "Have they found Jake?" she cried.

  Lavinia shook her head. "Marcus called on the radio. He took Doc out to meet Louis but they never saw him. Doc wants to know if he should come here. And Kirby Wittingham called. He's looking for you too."

  Lissey sighed. She needed to be alone with a gin and tonic. A couple of G and T's. Maybe a rum punch too. The only person she wanted to hear from was Jake. Louis would do though, if he'd call to say Jake would be all right.

  "Call Marcus for me, will you? Tell him we don't know where Jake is. They might be headed for Great Casque, looking for Doc," Lissey said.

  She threw a glance in the direction of a young couple seated at one of the tables. They seemed quite interested in what was going on, watching Lissey until she caught their attention, then quickly looking away. Ignoring them, she strode into the kitchen, found the gin bottle in the cabinet next to the fridge, and poured a good slug into a glass. Tonic, did she have any on hand, yes, a little left in the bottom of the bottle. One drink, that was all. She'd have to switch. Or head for the Sea Horse and let Henri pour for her. That idea held a nice appeal. Henri was a good listener, a comforter. She needed that at the moment. Fear squatted like a giant boulder in the middle of her chest, cramping her breathing, crushing her heart. The scene on the boat, Jake's blood all over the place, churned in her mind, vivid in its look and sticky touch and smell. She'd never realized drying blood had a smell.

  She downed a gulp of the G and T and went looking for her mobile. Might as well deal with Kirby while she was still sober.

  He answered on the second ring. "Hello Lissey. Have you calmed down?"

  A ball of rage rose in her throat. What a hell of a greeting. The man was an ass, A-number one, in a class by himself. "I'm fine. When are you going to collect the prisoner?"

  "You're still holding him?"

  "Of course."

  "Do you have the victim?"

  "Half the island saw him shoot the man."

  "Come now, let's not embellish the tale."

  Lissey sighed. "Okay, at least three or four of us."

  There was a delay, silence, before he spoke again. Lissey bit her tongue and waited.

  "I'll be there shortly. Have your witnesses available. Have you secured the scene?"

  "His boat is here," Lissey said and bit her lip. Why in the world had she cleaned up the blood? Foolish, it was evidence.

  An hour later the twenty-foot Grand Casque police boat trundled into the harbor and tied up to the gas dock. Tall, ascetic looking Kirby Wittingham greeted her, his professional unsmiling smile plastered on his face, a clipboard in his hand. Lissey wondered suddenly if the man had a wife, if he even had a private life.

  He offered a limp right hand. "Lissey."

  Courteous as always. Well, two could play at that game. "Kirby."

  "Your prisoner?"

  "Henri has him locked up in his storage room."

  "Henri?"

  "The Sea Horse Grill?"

  "Oh, of course. You had better tell me what happened. I'm afraid I have a very confusing idea of the situation."

  The implication being that she'd been a hysterical female when she called him the first time. Lissey held the sharp reply she'd almost given, could be she had been a bit distracted after all. She launched into the details, answering his occasional questions with as much equanimity as she could muster in the face of the distressing images that danced through her mind as she spoke.

  "Witnesses?" Kirby said.

  "Me, my father. Maria Sarano. Louis Pico."

  "They're all around here somewhere?"

  "All but Louis. He's with Jake."

  A frown crossed his brow." You know this how?"

  "I told you. He rescued Jake. They left together."

  "Okay, okay, never mind." Kirby grunted. "Let's go look at the crime scene. Where is the boat?'

  Lissey felt the heat of embarrassment rise to her face. "There's something else I need to tell you."

  She just knew she'd never hear the end of it. How could she destroy the blood evidence like t
hat? Well crap, she wasn't a real constable or anything. But Kirby simply stared at her in disbelief and made a note on his clipboard. Which would have been tolerable except she spent the next day with those staring eyes boring into her as he kept going over what had happened and watched a diver trying to recover Terrio's gun from the bottom of the harbor. Louis and Jake they did not find. The gun, amazingly, they did.

  Kirby had taken Terrio into custody that first day, thank goodness, but he seemed totally apathetic about the case, almost as if he did not believe a single witness. Then, two days into his investigation, the diver came to the surface of the harbor with the gun in his hand. Kirby actually smiled that day.

  "You've got to find this man Wainright," he told Lissey when he left the island with the gun. "We need to know if he's alive or dead."

  "We've searched everywhere though. Maybe they went to the big island," Lissey said.

  "I'll take care of the big island. You need to look deeper here. Somebody must know something."

  How many haunts could Louis have? They'd spoken to his brother and sisters, the friends Lissey knew about, all without success. He had to have taken Jake somewhere. Free of Kirby at last, Lissey began to traipse the island, stopping at each house she came to, asking questions, getting headshakes and no answers. Louis and Jake had disappeared. After two long days of that she tried another tactic. Louis's boat had to be somewhere.

  Firing up Jake's boat, she set out to do a sea search, tracing the shoreline, hoping to find Louis's boat tied up to a small dock somewhere. Unfortunately, the big sailboat with its deep keel found the bottom with great regularity as she pushed into shallow coves and bays. The fourth time she had to go over the side and, neck deep in water, rock the boat to break it free of the sand, she gave up. There were too many little inlets that were beyond her reach. Her father could protest that he needed his powerboat for launch duty in Louis's absence, but too bad, she needed it more.