Blowout

by Colleen Cross

  “Do what you want, but we’re outta here.” Pete turned and headed to the stairs.

  “Do the right thing and help us, Pete. We just have to hold him till the police arrive.”

  “Uh-uh.” Pete looked back as he climbed the stairs. “Me and the guys aren’t talking to the cops. See ya.”

  It suddenly dawned on Kat that Pete and the crew had probably all been in trouble with the law before. Who else would willingly crew a stolen boat? “Okay, fine. We won’t call the police until you’re gone. But at least help us tie him up.”

  Pete paused.

  “He’s already killed two people, Pete. If any of us die…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

  “Okay, but let’s make it quick.”

  Jace pointed towards the stern. “He had a gasoline can. I think he was headed to the galley.”

  They emerged on deck and ran towards the galley. They passed four crew members who pointedly ignored them as they tossed their gear into the dinghy.

  Pete paused for a moment, then fell in behind Uncle Harry. Kat trailed behind the men.

  They reached the galley and found Raphael. Two large gasoline canisters sat on the counter. Raphael held a third one with both hands as he poured it on the floor.

  “Put it down, Raphael.” Jace strode towards him.

  Pete remained motionless in the doorway.

  Kat got a sick feeling that Pete wouldn’t do a thing.

  Raphael straightened and taunted Jace. “Just try and stop me.” He raised the can and threw the can at Jace. The liquid splashed Jace’s face and shirt.

  Jace’s hands flew to his face. “My eyes!”

  Kat grabbed Jace and pulled him towards the sink. She turned the taps on full blast and cupped the water in her hands. She splashed it on Jace’s face.

  “Don’t bother. He’s going up in flames, just like you.” Raphael lit a match and grinned. “Nice knowing you.”

  37

  Harry pointed the gun at Raphael. “Put that thing out.”

  “If you shoot me, I’ll fall. So will the match.” Raphael walked towards Harry and Pete. “Drop the gun and let me pass.”

  Harry backed up towards the door as Raphael advanced. “Take it easy.”

  Kat held Jace back as he tried to intervene. “You’re covered in gasoline,” she whispered. “You’ll burn if you go near him.”

  Raphael was inches from Uncle Harry, the match still lit. He grabbed a sheaf of papers and lit them with the match. He shoved past the men with the burning paper in his hand. He grabbed the door and turned. Then he threw the burning papers backwards.

  She braced herself for an explosion.

  Nothing. The papers landed several inches short of the spilled gasoline. The flames turned to embers, and then burnt out.

  Suddenly Raphael lurched forward and then fell to the ground.

  “Nice work,” Pete said.

  Uncle Harry turned to Pete. “I never thought to trip him.”

  Raphael lay face first halfway out the door.

  “I’ll grab some rope to tie him up,” Pete said.

  “Wait!” Kat realized with alarm that if Raphael had one match, he probably had a book of matches somewhere in his pockets. “He’s still got matches. Get him out on deck.”

  Pete grabbed Raphael’s arms as he fought them. Harry grabbed his feet.

  “Let me go, Kat. They need my help,” Jace said.

  “No, rinse the gasoline off first. I’ll go.” Kat ran over to the other men and grabbed one of Raphael’s legs. “Let’s get him in the hot tub.” It was one way to get the matches wet.

  Jace didn’t heed her advice, which was a good thing, since Raphael fought them tooth and nail.

  Fifteen minutes later the four of them collapsed in exhaustion. Raphael was imprisoned in the hot tub. His back was propped against the ledge so he wouldn’t go under. His legs were bound with the rope from the storage chest, and his arms tied together in front with zip ties Pete had found somewhere on board. It had taken all of them to subdue a fighting Raphael. Or Frank, as it were.

  “One spark and this thing’s gonna blow. Let’s get to the dinghy,” Pete said.

  Kat glanced up at the sky as thunder rumbled a few miles in the distance.

  She had to convince Pete to stay aboard and not depart with the crew. She glanced over at the dinghy and couldn’t believe her eyes.

  The dinghy was gone.

  She scanned the waters but it was nowhere in sight. The crew hadn’t even waited for Pete. They were probably long gone even before the altercation with Raphael in the galley. Pete’s choice had cost him.

  Pete and everyone else noticed too. It was only natural, given that the dinghy was their only means of escape from a gasoline-soaked ship with a flooded hull. Would the crew alert authorities? Probably not.

  Frank cursed and squirmed in the hot tub. “Untie me and I’ll pay you. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

  Uncle Harry snorted. “You’ll pay us with our own money? I don’t think so.”

  “Where’s Gia?” Kat spun around. “Has anyone checked her stateroom?” Gia’s absence seemed like an eternity, and with Frank incapacitated, they could safely leave him for a moment. She motioned to her uncle. “Let’s go get her.” She paused. “Depending how sick she is, we might have to carry her upstairs.”

  They had no way of getting off the yacht, but at least they would be together.

  Jace and Pete guarded Raphael. Kat and Uncle Harry headed below deck.

  38

  Gia’s stateroom was dark. Kat and Harry headed to the bed where they found Gia unconscious and unresponsive.

  Kat pressed her ear to Gia’s chest. If she was breathing at all, she couldn’t hear anything, nor see the rise and fall of her chest. She shook her friend but got no response. Raphael must have drugged her martini. “Gia, wake up!”

  Nothing.

  Kat was about to start CPR when she felt a slight breath on her face. “Gia?” She shook her friend and was rewarded with a grunt.

  Gia suddenly choked and gagged.

  Kat cast a worried glance at her uncle as they lifted her to a sitting position. “She looks terrible.”

  Gia’s eyes flew open. “I’m going to be sick. Help me to the bathroom.”

  Kat and Uncle Harry each supported an arm as they accompanied Gia to the head. They exchanged anxious glances. Kat held Gia’s hair back as Gia retched over the toilet. They couldn’t afford to wait, but they couldn’t move Gia in her present condition.

  A minute later they helped her to a chair. She rubbed her eyes. “My head is killing me. I can’t remember what happened. I’m never drinking again.”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Kat couldn’t resist a little humor. “You always say that.”

  “Oh, I mean it this time.” Gia groaned. “How much did I drink?”

  “Just one martini.”

  “Just one?”

  Kat nodded. “You were drugged.”

  Gia’s eyes widened. “How’s that possible? You don’t think Raphael…”

  “I don’t think, I know. You remember the fake lettering on the boat? The passports?”

  Gia nodded slowly. “That bastard spiked my drink?”

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t any of us,” Uncle Harry said.

  “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “Tell you later,” Kat said. “Right now we’ve got to get on deck and get you walking. You need to get that stuff out of your system.”

  “Can’t we go later?” Gia leaned back on the bed. “I’m really tired. And dizzy.”

  “No, Gia.” Harry tugged on her arm. “We have to go right now.”

  Luckily Gia was too tired to protest and did as she was told. “Lead the way.”

  Uncle Harry locked his arm in Gia’s and walked her to the door behind Kat.

  “Where is Raphael? I want to give him a piece of my mind.” Gia’s words were slurred, but she was gaining strength.

  “That’s exactly
where we’re going,” Kat said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t hold anything back.”

  39

  Frank’s teeth chattered as he rubbed his zip-tied hands against the edge of the hot tub in an effort to cut them. Kat flipped the hot tub’s power switch as she, Gia, and Uncle Harry circled their chairs around Frank. The cool water hampered his futile efforts. It was like watching a caged animal when you knew how the story would end. Kat felt a pang of guilt until she remembered the full extent of Frank’s crimes.

  Pete had gone to the bridge to radio the police.

  Gia was still groggy from the martini, but she listened quietly as Kat and Uncle Harry recounted the events of the last hour. Her eyes grew wide and she became more alert with each new revelation of Frank’s deeds.

  Jace reemerged on deck. He had changed out of his gasoline-soaked clothes and brought dry clothes for Kat and Uncle Harry, too. Kat couldn’t break away for even a split second to change. She couldn’t let Frank out of her sight.

  The clouds had moved in low and close, and the sky was almost as dark as night. The thunder and lightning had shifted several miles south as day turned to evening. It had also started to rain.

  Uncle Harry turned on the bar’s transistor radio and turned up the volume. The radio blasted an AC/DC tune, but it competed with static from the poor radio reception.

  “Shut that crap off,” Frank said.

  “What? Can’t hear you.” Uncle Harry stretched the power cord and carried the radio over to the hot tub and held it above Frank. “Hey, the reception’s better over here.”

  Frank’s eyes widened in panic. “Get that thing away from me. You’ll electrocute me.”

  Uncle Harry swung the radio back and forth above Frank. “I still can’t hear you.”

  Gia stood and swayed slightly. “I think we’ve forgotten something, Frank.” She glared down at him as he thrashed helplessly in the water.

  “What?”

  “You’ve already got a wife, don’t you?” Gia motioned to Harry to bring the radio closer. The electrical cord’s slack disappeared as he stretched the cord. He held the radio above Raphael. Alanis Morissette belted out “Jagged Little Pill”. “Or should I say, had one.”

  The color drained from Frank’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Put the radio down, Harry.”

  Harry placed the radio on the deck, but Gia immediately picked it up.

  “You don’t know what I’m talking about? C’mon Frank, I know who you are. Frank Bukowski’s no billionaire. He’s not even a good husband. Raphael Amore is nothing more than one big fat lie. I’m not falling for any more of your crap. I want my money back.”

  “It’s too late.” Raphael fixated on the radio as Gia brought it closer. “The money’s already gone. You’ll never get it back.”

  “Maybe you’ll never get out of that hot tub.”

  Kat exchanged glances with Jace. Gia was a woman scorned. A woman with a temper.

  The final notes of “Jagged Little Pill” played as Gia brought the radio within inches of the hot tub.

  “Gia, don’t!” Raphael pleaded. “I’ll get you the money, I promise. Just put that thing down!”

  Gia snapped her fingers. “Got a pen, Harry? I need you to write some stuff down. Kat, grab your laptop. We’re getting my money back now.”

  Moments later Kat returned, in dry clothes and with her laptop. She sat at the bar and waited for her computer to power up. Her prayers were answered as she got a weak Internet connection. After what seemed like an eternity, she navigated to the website of the first Costa Rican bank and entered the password Frank had provided. “Uh-oh, Gia. It says password invalid.”

  “Don’t hold out on me, Frank.” Gia fastened two zip ties around the radio handle. She made a daisy chain from the remaining zip ties and slipped them onto the end of a broom handle. Now she could hold the radio inches above the waterline and be insulated from the electric shock if it made contact.

  The radio dangled precariously above Frank, like a baited fishing rod. The radio disc jockey announced an intro to Adele’s “Turning Tables”.

  “I can’t think straight with you holding the radio above me. Set it down.”

  “No, Frank.” Gia shook her head. “I think the radio’s highly motivating.” She swung the radio back and forth in an arc above him. Adele’s voice faded and strengthened with each pass. “It’s kind of hypnotic, too.”

  “Stop it!” Tears rolled down Frank’s face. “I’ll tell you. Just don’t kill me.”

  “I feel sorry for you, Frank. I really do.” Gia spoke softly. “Too bad you didn’t give Melinda and Emily a last chance. Did they plead for their lives too?”

  “They deserved what they got.”

  “A four year old, Frank? How could you be so callous?” Gia slipped on the deck and almost lost her balance.

  “Careful!” Frank’s voice rose in pitch. “You’ll kill me if you drop that thing.”

  “Melinda and Emily deserved to die, but you deserve to live? How does that work, Frank?” Gia lowered the radio until it swayed a few inches above his head.

  “Stop it.” Tears streamed down Frank’s face. “What do you want from me?”

  “The bank passwords, for one thing.”

  Frank rattled off a new password, a combination of letters and numbers.

  Harry scribbled on his notepad, adding it to the long list of bank accounts and passwords.

  Kat entered the password and pressed enter. “I’m in.” She scanned the transactions. They had all started two weeks ago, which meant Gia was almost certainly the defrauded victim. She whistled at the amount.

  “Three hundred thousand? That’s your investment?”

  Gia nodded. “Most of it is from mortgaging my salon. Can you get it back?”

  Kat studied the transaction details. “I think so.” She entered a new transaction, the mirror opposite of the original one. “Are these your account details?”

  Gia nodded.

  Kat held her breath and pressed enter.

  “It worked?”

  Kat nodded.

  “Hey! That’s my money,” Frank shouted. “Give it back.”

  “Uh-uh,” Harry said. “I want my money back too. Where is my check?”

  Frank told him and Jace disappeared inside.

  Gia clapped her hands, almost sending the radio into the water. “At least I got my money back.”

  “No, we don’t know that yet,” Kat said. “It’s still the weekend, so the transaction might get rejected when the banks open on Monday. No way to know for sure until then.”

  Gia turned to Frank. “It never was your money, Frank.”

  Frank’s teeth chattered. “C-can I get out of this thing?”

  “Uh-uh.” Gia relished her newfound control over Frank. “Not for the moment, anyways. You’re not going anywhere until we rip up Jace and Harry’s checks.”

  Jace returned a few minutes later with his and Uncle Harry’s checks. He handed one to Harry and tore his check into little pieces. “That’s a relief. I guess we’re back where we started.”

  “Not quite,” Kat was relieved that Jace had actually written a check rather than transferring the funds. With the checks destroyed, everything was restored to normal. Money-wise at least. “Frank here murdered his family, and we’ve got to see justice served. Where’s Pete?” He hadn’t returned from inside.

  “He’s long gone.” Jace pointed to the island. “The dinghy was already gone, but I saw him in the water. I think he swam to shore.”

  40

  It was almost midnight by the time the Coast Guard responded to their flares. The coast guard transferred them off the yacht and onto their ship. They hauled Frank off first and locked him up somewhere onboard. He still shivered from the hot tub, which proved a very effective way to quiet him.

  Frank refused to speak to their rescuers, other than to demand a lawyer.

  The coast guard vessel returned to the Victoria harbor and was met by the police
, who boarded the vessel and removed Frank in handcuffs. They all watched as he was led into a waiting police van. His brilliant smile had morphed into a scowl, and his designer clothes had been replaced by borrowed track pants and a grease-stained t-shirt.

  “Can’t say I’ll miss him,” Jace said. “I’ll be covering his trial though. You think he’ll be convicted?”

  “I’m sure of it. The surveillance cameras recorded his whole confession.” Kat had hoped they were operational, and the police had just confirmed it. “That should be all the evidence they need.”

  “Who brings the yacht back to Vancouver?” Harry stared wistfully out to the sea. “I’d love to sail on it again.”

  “Catalyst belongs in Friday Harbor, not Vancouver. It was stolen, remember?” The yacht needed repairs after Frank’s destruction, and the owner had to be contacted. Once evidence was collected, arrangements would be made for its safe return.

  “Maybe one day I’ll be rich enough to buy it.”

  Jace laughed. “Don’t count on it, Harry. Besides, money’s not everything.”

  “It sure isn’t,” Harry agreed. “At least I got to marry someone. Kind of a shame things didn’t work out.”

  “It was a wedding to remember.” Gia patted his arm. “Things will work out just fine. I’m sure of it.”

  They spent the next few hours at the police station where they provided further details of their ordeal. Raphael had clammed up, but his recorded confession and evidence gathered by Kat and the others was enough for multiple charges. In addition to fraud charges, he faced first-degree murder charges in the deaths of Anne Melinda Bukowski and Emily Bukowski.

  In addition, he faced charges in Washington for the theft of the yacht.

  “I almost forgot.” Kat handed a small box to the police officer. It contained Melinda’s wallet, Frank’s passports, airline tickets, and the fake engagement rings. “You’ll need these.”

  “For fools and traitors, nothing.” Jace smiled.

  “Brother XII might have got his gold, but Frank sure didn’t,” Kat said.