River Traffic

by Martha Brack Martin

  I pasted a smile on my face and gave the doorknob a good loud turn.

  That’s when I realized three things.

  One, the door was locked from the inside.

  Two, something was definitely in there, because I heard two more loud bumps.

  And three, someone was slowly and quietly sneaking up the stairs behind me.

  Chapter Twelve

  There was no way I could get into the washroom before the person climbing the stairs saw me.

  I tried anyway.

  I stepped toward the washroom just as Kat’s blond head came into view.

  “Tom, do you know where the restroom is?” Kat asked loudly. “The ones downstairs are full.”

  She mouthed, Are you done?

  “It’s right here,” I said just as loudly. Silently I tipped my head at the locked door down the hall and mouthed, Locked.

  Kat pulled me into the bathroom and shut the door behind us. “We have to get back downstairs. Dom’s inside,” Kat said. “Everyone is. The storm’s really picking up. Dom thinks the ferry won’t run if the waves get higher. People are leaving.”

  I nodded but took time to fill her in on what I’d found. “I hate to go without knowing who or what is in that other bedroom,” I whispered. “Don’t you think it’s weird no one ran to open the door when I tried the handle? Or said anything?”

  “I guess whoever it is doesn’t want to be found,” Kat said.

  I nodded. “Yeah. And I guess we’d better get out of here.”

  Kat peeked through the door to make sure no one was there. Then she grabbed my hand and we walked downstairs. Hopefully, people would just think we had been fooling around. The front foyer was packed with kids grabbing coolers and purses and shoes.

  “It was great meeting you, Kathleen!” A tall kid dressed in name-brand everything smiled at Kat as he pulled on expensive boating shoes.

  “Nice meeting you, Troy,” Kat said. “You too, ladies,” she added. Two cute brown-haired girls smiled back. “These are Dom’s friends from Grosse Ile. Troy Heron and his friends Megan and Emma. They belong to the Grosse Ile Yacht Club.” She pointed at me with her free hand. “This is my friend Tom LeFave.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tom. Sorry we can’t stay. The river’s getting crazy out there. We’re going to leave while we still can,” Troy said. They headed out the door.

  “If it’s that bad, I should get going too,” I said. “I wonder where Nate is. And where’s Oleg? Shouldn’t he be here saying goodbye to his guests?”

  “I’ll go find him to say thanks.” Kat looked at me. “Why don’t you wait on the street?”

  I remembered Oleg’s threat about talking later. “Good plan. Just don’t take too long.”

  Kat left to find Oleg. The rain was crazy. The temperature must have dropped about five degrees in the last twenty minutes. The sky was an angry blackish-green. I could see the river between the houses. It was a sea of whitecaps.

  I wondered if Nate had left already. I’d thought maybe I’d get a ride with him instead of taking the runner home. Most kids who had driven over on the ferry had parked their cars at the end of the street. I didn’t see Nate’s.

  Kat ran up. “I can’t find Dom anywhere.” She shrugged. “I’ll give him my thanks tomorrow. Right now we need to get back to the Southern Comfort.”

  We ran back to Boblo Marina as rain lashed our faces. I wondered if Dad was worrying about me. I checked my phone as I ran. There was no text or missed call.

  The Southern Comfort was a warm, dry relief after the rain. Kat’s dad wasn’t back yet. I was relieved. The guy still scared me. I wondered how he’d feel about Kat and me being here alone.

  Kat threw me a towel. We both dried off as much as we could. Our clothes were soaked.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you to change into, Tom,” she said. “I’ve turned the cool air off. Want a hot drink?”

  “No, don’t worry about me. You go change. I might as well stay wet. I’ll just get wetter in the runner.”

  “I don’t think you should leave yet. The river’s really rough. Dad should be home soon. Then we can take you back in the Southern Comfort when the storm’s past. Or you can sleep in here on the pull-out sofa.”

  “I don’t want to impose,” I said. I saw that Kat was shivering. “Listen, go change into dry clothes. We can talk about it after you’re warmed up.”

  Kat went to change. I made myself think about something other than her undressing not far away.

  I couldn’t imagine staying on the same boat as Kat’s dad, having a happy little sleepover. Still, the river was crazy. I wondered if the runner was up to it. It was heavy and solid, sure. But it was open to the wind and rain. Visibility would be tough. At least Dad had it running fast.

  I pulled out my phone again. Still no message from Dad.

  I tried to call his cell. It went to voice mail. The same thing happened when I tried the marina landline.

  Where in the hell are you, Dad? Why can’t you get to a phone?

  I wondered if Dad was so worried about me he was on his way to Boblo. But he would have called or texted first.

  I messaged that I was on the Southern Comfort. The screen said Delivered. If Dad didn’t have his phone with him, he’d see it later.

  I paced around the cabin, waiting for Kat. There were worse places to be a confused, worried mess.

  The Carver was as pretty inside as it was out. The shiny woodwork was a dark cherry. The furniture was covered in leather. I could see the galley had a wood floor and a full-sized fridge. Behind the eating area there was even a built-in bar.

  Kat popped up, looking dry and perfect. I felt even more like a drowned rat.

  “I can’t get my dad on his cell or on the marina phone,” I blurted. “I’m kind of worried.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. He probably fell asleep,” she said. “If it’s any comfort, I can’t get my dad either. And he never goes anywhere without his phone.” She looked out the window. “Maybe it has to do with the storm. Anyway, I’m sure he’d want you to stay here.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze. “My cell’s working fine, and I checked the satellite forecast. This storm won’t blow over for another hour or two.”

  She showed me her phone. I could see we were in the most intense part of the storm right now. I decided to relax and stop worrying.

  “Yeah, I guess I’d better stay put for now. My dad’s likely fine. And I know he wouldn’t want me to be out on the river in this. It’s too dangerous. Even a big boat would have trouble.”

  “Good.” Kat yanked up the tabletop and pulled a blanket out of the storage area in its base. “Here. Wrap up in this,” she said as she threw it at me. “I want to hear again what you found upstairs.” She sat down on the couch and patted the leather beside her.

  There was no place in the world I’d rather have been than sitting beside Kat Smith in her pricey yacht, just the two of us. Talking about Dominik Oleg, however, was not a recipe for romance. I quickly repeated my story.

  “So you didn’t find any strange notes or papers in his desk? Nothing about money?” Kat asked. I noticed she had a cute way of tipping her head to the side when she was really thinking.

  “Nope. Nothing out of place at all. Only the camo suit. And for all I know, he duck hunts. People do that around here.” I felt stupid, like I should have found something. I was so sure he was doing something shady. “The only really weird thing was those noises in the room next door,” I said. “There’s only him and his dad living in that house.”

  “Don’t you think it was probably just some kids from the party?” Kat asked. “Maybe they went upstairs before you got there.”

  “I guess. It just felt…sneaky.” I tried to explain. “You’d think when I tried to open the door they would have yelled or something.”

  Kat was quiet for a second. “Maybe they were too…busy.”

  She laughed softly. It sounded different from her normal laugh. Slower maybe. She put her ha
nd on my arm.

  “I hear duck hunting isn’t the only thing people do around here.” She was looking at me with that little eyebrow-lift thing. “Or radish growing,” she said more softly. Her face moved closer to mine. “Or rum-running,” she whispered.

  Is this really happening?

  I knew I was staring at her lips. I couldn’t help it. I tried to be cool and relax.

  “Really?” I whispered, leaning to close the last little bit of space between us. “Did you read that in your research…?”

  Just as our lips finally made contact—and I forgot to breathe again—I realized I was hearing more than the pounding of my heart and the storm.

  I would have ignored it. But Kat pulled away. She did the eyebrow-lift thing again as we both listened.

  There was no doubt about it.

  Someone was revving a boat motor loud enough to wake the dead. That could only mean someone was about to tackle the river in this storm.

  The question was who–And why?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kat flew to slide open the cabin’s glass doors. We raced up the molded stairs to the flybridge. The Southern Comfort was bigger than most other boats in Boblo Marina. With our 360-degree view and the loud roar, we spotted the other boat in seconds.

  “That’s Dom’s boat,” Kat said.

  “Even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to go out in this storm,” I said.

  “It’s his. That’s where he docks it. But that might not be him driving.” Kat grabbed the binoculars resting nearby but soon threw them down. “Too much rain. I can’t see his face.”

  Whoever was in Oleg’s boat was putting on a life jacket.

  “Why would he be heading out in this storm?” My gut said there was no good reason.

  “We’ve got to follow him. But we can’t do it in the Southern Comfort.” Kat was almost shouting over the rain. “If that’s Dom, he’ll know it’s us.”

  “We can take the runner.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was a crazy idea. The runner was open to the wind and the rain. Waves too. We could be swamped if I made one wrong move.

  Kat had seen the runner earlier. “Are you sure? Maybe we’ll just have to let him go.” She looked at the blurry figure, now moving to the stern mooring line. “I wish my dad was here.”

  I thought about Officer Murphy telling me to keep my eyes open but not get involved. I knew he wouldn’t want me on the river. Dad would ground me for life—assuming I was still alive to ground.

  I didn’t even want to think about what Kat’s dad would do to me if something happened to her.

  “I’ll go on my own. You can tell your dad when he gets back. You said he’d be here soon. You can be the cavalry.”

  I could see Kat’s mind going a mile a minute. I wasn’t sure she heard me, she was thinking so hard. Then she seemed to snap out of it.

  “Nice try. You aren’t going anywhere without me. No one boats alone in a storm.” She grabbed a paper and pencil. “I’ll leave a note for Dad downstairs. We’ll put on life jackets and be fine. The lightning’s moved on. And you’re going to need another pair of eyes in this rain.” Kat pointed at Oleg’s boat, now with one mooring line untied from the slip. “We’d better move fast. That boat’s leaving soon.”

  I took the life jacket Kat handed me. We raced down the stairs.

  I didn’t have time to call Nate’s dad from the Southern Comfort. And there was no way he’d hear me over the storm if I called from the runner. We had to get going or we’d lose Oleg’s boat. I decided to send him a quick text while Kat went into the galley to write the note to her dad.

  We got the life jackets on super fast. I handed Kat my phone in case Nate’s dad texted back.

  “Stay down,” I shouted into Kat’s ear as we dragged ourselves through the rain to the runner. “Don’t let whoever that is see you.”

  Oleg’s boat was pulling out of the slip one dock over. We jumped into the runner.

  “We’ll follow, but I don’t want to get too close,” I yelled. “I bet we’re the only two boats on the water tonight. I’m keeping my lights off. They won’t do much in this storm anyway.”

  The runner started right away. I was thankful Dad kept it in such good shape.

  Oleg’s boat was going south, a good two hundred metres ahead of us. It followed the narrow spit of land that separated us from the Livingstone Channel and the rest of the river.

  “Where do you think he’s headed? Kat yelled back. She was checking her phone and mine.

  “I don’t know! I can’t figure out why he’s going south!” I yelled. “It’s out of his way if he wants to get across the river fast. Easier to go north and take the “Hole in the Wall” just north of Boblo.” Kat nodded. “Safer too. Going south takes him right to Lake Erie—and taking on the lake in this storm would be suicide!” The wind caught my words and threw them back.

  The waves were getting worse by the minute. Oleg’s boat was doing better than mine. As he came to the end of the spit of land, he turned east. I let out a breath.

  “He’s heading across the river after all!” I had no time to say more, because we were suddenly being tossed around like a cork. It was all I could do to keep the waves at the right angle to the runner. Kat put the phones in her pocket so she could hold on better.

  “Anything on the cells?” I asked. She shook her head.

  Out in the middle of the big channel, the wind was crazier than ever. I had to keep zigzagging just to move forward a few meters. There was no point trying to talk. We could barely see. There was no room for mistakes.

  Sugar Island was close. It would block a lot of the wind and currents once we got behind it. But until we did, every wave was a risk. I was holding on to the wheel so tightly I couldn’t feel my fingers.

  Up ahead, Sugar Island loomed out of the downpour.

  Suddenly Oleg’s boat took off!

  Kat whipped her face in my direction. I nodded to show I’d seen it.

  Crap!

  If I upped my speed before I got around Sugar Island, we were almost certain to swamp. If I didn’t speed up, we would probably lose sight of Oleg’s boat.

  Both of my choices sucked.

  And I was out of time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I knew this whole risking-our-lives thing would be pointless if I didn’t speed up. But I also knew the river.

  The only logical place Oleg’s boat could go from here, in this weather, would be Grosse Ile. Anything else was too far and risky.

  I hated to do it, but I kept the runner steady until we rounded Sugar Island.

  The River Fates must have been in a good mood or something. As I passed south of Sugar Island, the rain let up enough for us to see Oleg’s boat in the distance. With a whoop, I let the runner fly full throttle.

  The lights on Oleg’s boat made it easy to follow him, especially when the rain got even lighter. The waves were calmer. The sky was dark, but it seemed bright after the storm.

  There was no question that Oleg’s boat was heading to Grosse Ile. It slowed down as the southeast island shoreline came into view.

  “Maybe he’s heading to the Grosse Ile Yacht Club,” I said. I thought about meeting Troy earlier. “Do you think it might be Troy driving Oleg’s boat? Maybe he stayed behind when the others left.” It was a relief to be able to talk without screaming over the storm.

  “No. They left right after we said goodbye. And they were on Troy’s boat. He did say he lives just down from the yacht club though. Maybe Dom’s visiting them. If it is Dom, I mean.” Kat was scanning the shoreline closely.

  “In a storm? Right after they were at his place?” I shook my head. “We’re missing something.”

  Oleg’s boat went right past the yacht club, keeping close to shore. I kept the runner back, trolling with our lights still off.

  “Watch for channel markers,” I said.

  Kat nodded.

  Up ahead, Oleg’s boat slowed to a crawl. It kept following the shore, past huge multimi
llion-dollar estates lined up one after the other. Some had their own docks and boat lifts out front.

  “I don’t think he knows we’re following him,” Kat said.

  “I don’t think he ever did,” I said. “Now he’ll just assume we’re locals if he does spot us.”

  I hope.

  Whoever was driving Oleg’s boat was clearly looking for something on the shore. The rain had turned to a light mist. I could easily see the driver standing at the wheel, turning his head as he looked around. But I couldn’t see his features.

  Oleg’s boat glided by twin docks with huge spotlights shining into the channel. The driver turned from the lights. But for a split second we saw him clearly.

  “It is Dom!” I said. “He’s wearing that camo suit I found in his closet.”

  Oleg’s boat suddenly went dark. I wondered if he’d heard me.

  Oleg glided past a few more estates. Then he turned the bow and pulled up at a dock ahead of us. I brought the runner as close as I dared. I stopped two docks before the one he had picked.

  What’s he doing? Kat mouthed, scanning the shore. I shrugged.

  We could see fairly well, despite the mist. Oleg was still looking around. We didn’t see anyone on the dock or shore near him.

  He made a quick wave with his arm.

  Kat dug her phone out of her pocket and began taking pictures. This turned out to be a good idea, because something was rising out of the back of Oleg’s boat. A big something. And I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes.

  Oleg went up to the large something and grabbed at it. A big tarp came off in his hands. We could now see two figures crouching low in the boat.

  “They can’t be leftover party guests. You don’t hide them under a tarp,” I whispered.

  Kat shot me a look that clearly said, Shut up!

  We couldn’t hear what Oleg was saying, but his actions were clear. He wanted those people off his boat. They held back, huddling like they were afraid. Finally, one climbed out, then turned to help the other. Oleg wasted no time tossing two large bags out after them. The people grabbed the bags, holding on to each other, and quickly moved off the dock. We lost sight of them when they got to the shore.