005 Hit and Run Holiday

by Carolyn Keene

  “Yeah, but now what?” George asked.

  “What do you mean?” Bess said. “Now we split!”

  “No, wait.” Nancy thought a minute. “It’s not such a great idea for all of us to go trooping up on deck together. I think I’d better scout around first and see what’s happening. Maybe I can figure out a way to get us off this boat.”

  “What about him?” George asked, pointing to Dirk.

  “Sit on him if you have to,” Nancy replied. “And don’t forget, if anybody comes knocking, you’ve got the gun.”

  Nancy drew in a deep breath and pushed the door open. She checked the hall, then gave the others a thumbs-up signal and slipped into the empty corridor. She ran silently up the metal stairs.

  The Rosita had come to a complete stop. Nancy could feel it. She hoped that meant that everybody was gathered on one side of the deck, waiting to be taken to the island. If someone was in the galley, Nancy knew she’d be a sitting duck when she raised that trap door, but there was no way to tell. She’d just have to take her chances.

  Cautiously Nancy pushed the door up about half an inch and waited. Nothing. She pushed some more until the opening was big enough for her head. From a distance, she heard the laughter and shouts of people waiting for the launches, but she didn’t see anyone in the galley.

  It’s now or never, she thought, and pushed the door up until the opening was wide enough for her to crawl through. She lowered the door as quietly as possible and then crouched on the floor, waiting.

  Nancy didn’t know how long the galley would remain empty. She had to get moving or she’d be trapped again. She crept forward, until she could peer around the edge of the entrance.

  The partiers were gathered at the railing, milling around, joking. Nancy didn’t see Lila or any of her boys and figured that they were either directing traffic or driving the launches.

  Suddenly Nancy realized that a launch was her answer. If she could just get her hands on one of those speedboats, then the five of them might have a chance of breaking free for good.

  For a second, Nancy was tempted to join the crowd and lower herself over the side of the Rosita. But then she saw one of Lila’s boys—the guy who had delivered the flowers—making his way through the party-goers. He moved slowly and casually, smiling at everyone, but his eyes darted swiftly over the faces of the crowd, and Nancy knew that Lila had posted him as a lookout. If Nancy tried to lose herself in the group, he’d spot her. She could just see herself halfway down the rope ladder, trapped in the glare of a powerful flashlight, like an animal paralyzed by the headlights of a car.

  But a launch was the only way off the Rosita, and Nancy knew she had to get her hands on one. She was trying to figure how when she saw the “florist” making his way toward the galley.

  He was fifteen feet away, and Nancy knew there was no going back. In one quick move, she stepped through the galley entrance and slid around to the far side of the deck. Then she waited, heart pounding, listening for a shout, for rapid footsteps that meant he had seen her and was coming after her.

  Nothing. Nancy slumped against the outer wall of the galley, knowing she was safe—for the moment. But she couldn’t hang around much longer. She had to find a way to get herself and four other people off the boat, or that fancy move she had used to flatten Dirk would turn out to be a total waste.

  The noise of the crowd was dying down; it wouldn’t be long before everyone was off the boat and on the island. Suddenly, over the sound of the fading laughter, Nancy heard footsteps approaching the galley.

  Move! she told herself, and slipped quickly along the rail, glancing over her shoulder every step of the way. She had to find someplace to hide, fast, or she might as well go back down and join the others.

  It was as she neared the bow that Nancy saw the metal ladder leading to the top deck. She raced for it, her bare feet almost silent on the deck, and scampered up. She reached the top rung, glanced back, and saw the florist rounding the galley. Nancy gripped the ladder and willed him not to look up.

  But apparently Lila’s florist was just looking for stray partiers and only glanced carelessly down the passageway before disappearing. Nancy let her breath out and climbed onto the top deck, immediately flattening herself out on her stomach.

  The deck was deserted, but Nancy wasn’t taking any chances. Still on her stomach, she elbowed her way to the other side and peered over the rail toward the island. Several bonfires had already been started on the beach, and in the glow, Nancy could see a single speedboat heading for the shore. Two others were already tied up just off the beach. The one she was watching must be the last, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before the Rosita would take off with its human cargo. She had to get her hands on one of those launches, and that meant she had to get to the island—unseen.

  Nancy heard a cough, and looking down, saw the florist pacing the deck below. She scrambled back to the far rail and waited to see if he was going to patrol the other side too. As she looked out over the water, it suddenly occurred to her that she could swim to the island. It wasn’t too far away, and once she got there, she could steal one of the speedboats and zip back to the Rosita. She wished she could tell the others to be ready and waiting for her, but she couldn’t take the chance of going back down to the hold. She told herself that if the Rosita took off before she got back to it, she’d head for Fort Lauderdale and get the police. But she didn’t think she’d have to do that. Nancy figured that Lila would need at least half an hour to make sure the island party was going strong before she returned to the Rosita.

  You can do it, Nancy thought. You have to do it, so, don’t waste any more time. She got to her knees and looked over the rail, checking to make sure the lower deck was clear. No one was in sight, so Nancy stood up and put her foot on the top rail, gripping it with her toes. She brought her other foot up, found her balance, and slowly straightened to her full height. The water was at least twenty feet below her. Don’t think about it, she told herself, just do it.

  Nancy raised her arms above her head and pushed out and off the rail, diving headfirst into the dark waters of the Atlantic.

  The ocean hit her like a cold slap in the face, and it seemed as if she sank forever before she was able to start pulling herself up. Finally, though, she broke the surface. Gasping, she tossed her hair out of her face and then pulled herself toward the Rosita’s stern with strong, steady strokes.

  When Nancy reached it, she stopped, treading water. The rail lights and the glow from the bonfires sent a faint path of light along the water, and in that path, about fifteen feet away, Nancy saw a dark triangular shape gliding smoothly through the waves. She wiped her eyes again and blinked, trying to tell herself that she was seeing things.

  But she wasn’t. The black triangle was a shark’s fin, and as Nancy watched, frozen, she saw it swerve sharply and begin to slice through the water, heading straight for her.

  Chapter

  Fifteen

  NANCY FELT PANIC wash over her, colder than the water lapping at her throat. She’d done her share of detective work, but she’d never had to deal with a shark before, and she didn’t want to start then.

  The shark was swimming closer. Nancy clamped her lips together, forcing back the scream that was threatening to break loose. It would surely attract attention, either the shark’s or Lila’s, and Nancy wasn’t sure which would be worse.

  For several minutes, Nancy treaded water, deciding to wait until the shark did whatever it was going to do. But she had no idea what it was going to do, and it probably didn’t either, so what was the point? Besides, waiting was just too scary. She had to move or that scream was going to escape her lips.

  Not wanting to make any waves, Nancy used just her arms to pull herself smoothly toward the shore. After a moment, she realized she didn’t know where the shark was anymore—in front of her, behind her, or below her. Somehow, not knowing was more frightening than knowing, and for a while she kept looking around, trying to locate th
e telltale fin. But after a few minutes, she simply concentrated on getting ashore. The shark’s got the whole ocean to fish in, she kept telling herself. Why should it pick on you?

  Avoiding the paths of light cast by the bonfires, Nancy swam in a wide arc, heading for a deserted part of the beach. She thought that once she got there, she could find a subtle way to join the crowd, pretending she’d always been part of it. If you get there, she reminded herself, and looked over her shoulder again. She didn’t see the shark, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t lurking somewhere, biding its time.

  But Nancy couldn’t afford to bide her time. She realized she couldn’t keep up the slow pace. She was taking forever to reach the island, and she didn’t want to risk letting the Rosita get away. Sure, she could send the police after it eventually, but by then it might be too late for the four friends she’d left behind.

  Forcing herself to forget every shark movie ever made, Nancy put her head down, started a strong, steady kick with her legs, and shot through the water like an Olympic swimmer going for the gold. She didn’t stop until she felt sand grazing her thighs, and even then she didn’t stand up. Instead, she crawled out of the water, her stomach brushing the sand, and then flopped down, hoping no one had seen her emerging from the ocean.

  When she raised her head and looked toward the party, Nancy realized her fear of being seen was ridiculous. Absolutely nobody was looking her way. They were all too involved in dancing, eating, flirting, and splashing in the water. It would be simple to join them, and since the speedboats were beached close to the party, Nancy knew that was what she had to do.

  Confident that no one was watching, Nancy stood up, brushed the sand from her body and picked the seaweed out of her hair. Then she began a slow saunter toward the bonfires, trying to look like she’d been for a solitary stroll along the beach and had decided to rejoin the party.

  It was simple, just as she’d thought it would be. The party to nowhere was nothing more than a fancier version of the parties on the Fort Lauderdale beach. The food was a lot better than hot dogs and potato chips, but other than that, it was really just a bunch of people having too good a time to pay any attention to a single girl striding along the sand.

  When Nancy reached the thick of the crowd, she put on a smile and started dancing with no one in particular. As she spun to her left, she spotted three of Lila’s boys. One was wrapping ears of corn to be roasted in the coals, one was stationed at a table, serving drinks, and the third one—handsome “Mr. Friendly,” the maintenance man—was leaning against one of the speedboats, his eyes roving over the crowd. There was no sign of Lila, and Nancy wondered suddenly if she was still on the Rosita.

  Spinning again so that her back was to the maintenance man, Nancy realized that she had to do something, fast. If Lila was still on the Rosita, then the boat might be taking off sooner than Nancy had anticipated. Nancy knew she had to get her hands on one of those launches, but there was no way she could slip past the watchful eye of Mr. Friendly. Somehow, she had to make him leave his post.

  Suddenly the group she was with began moving toward the water, and Nancy found herself swept along with them until she was knee-deep in the surf. Splashing each other and laughing as they tried to dance on the shifting sand beneath their feet, they kept moving into deeper water. They were getting farther from the shore and farther, Nancy noticed, from the light cast by the bonfires.

  No one was trying to dance anymore; they were all diving under the waves, or swimming lazily. That was when Nancy got her idea. She needed a major distraction, something to get that maintenance man away from the speedboats, and she was going to create it herself.

  A wave was rolling in, and Nancy dived under it, surfacing about ten feet from the rest of her group. She checked to make sure no one was paying any attention to her, and then she let out a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream. “Shark!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs, “I see a shark!”

  In seconds, everyone had taken up the cry. It didn’t seem to matter whether there really was a shark, all that mattered was getting out of the water.

  Screaming and shouting, Nancy’s group started swimming frantically for the island, while the people on shore raced to the water’s edge, yelling for everyone to hurry. When the two groups met on the sand, they all stared out over the dark water, still screaming in fear and excitement.

  “I think I see it!” a girl called out. “Look—is that it?”

  “It must be!” Nancy answered, not bothering to look. “My gosh, it’s huge!”

  While everyone stared at the water, Nancy was checking out the launches, and she saw exactly what she’d hoped to see—no maintenance man, no florist, none of Lila’s boys. The entire party to nowhere was gathered at the shore, craning their necks for a glimpse of a shark.

  This is your chance, Nancy told herself, and it might be the only one you’ll get. “There it is!” she shouted, and waited until everyone was looking the other way. Then she turned and raced along the beach toward the speedboats.

  When she reached the first one, Nancy ducked behind it and glanced back. The crowd was still at the edge of the water, but no one was screaming anymore, and she knew it would only be a minute or two before they lost interest and started partying again. Two minutes, she thought, that’s all you’ve got.

  Her heart pounding, Nancy straightened up and looked into the speedboat. In the glow of the bonfires, she saw something glittering just to the right of the wheel, and let out her breath in a sigh of relief. It was the key. She hadn’t even thought about the key, but there it was, thank goodness, ready to ignite the engine.

  Keeping low on the sand, Nancy crept to the front of the boat and started pushing. It didn’t budge. She shoved harder and when it still didn’t move, she realized she’d have to stand up straight if she wanted to shove as hard as she could. She knew she’d be in the full glow of the firelight, and if anyone looked over, they couldn’t miss seeing her, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to push the boat into the water and get going.

  Nancy straightened up and shoved against the boat as hard as she could. It slid two feet forward. Nancy rubbed her palms together and got ready to push again.

  Suddenly someone was shouting, and before Nancy had a chance to move, the shout rang out again, loud and clear and furious. It was Lila, standing on the deck of the Rosita and pointing straight at Nancy.

  “Stop her!” Lila screamed. “She’s got a boat! Stop her!”

  Nancy spun around to face the crowd of partiers. They were still milling around at the water’s edge. All but one. That one—the maintenance man—had broken away from the group and was loping across the sand toward Nancy.

  Nancy knew there was no longer any sense in trying to get the boat in the water. She’d never make it. She’d been caught, and as she watched the maintenance man closing the gap between them, she wondered if she’d been caught for good.

  For a split second, Nancy stood rooted to the spot and ready to give up. But when she actually heard the sharp, steady breathing of the man, she snapped to attention. Come on, she told herself. You can probably outrun that creep. And if not, you can certainly outthink him!

  In a flash, Nancy was off, her heels sending out sprays of sand as she headed away from the boats and the bonfires toward the dark center of the island. She had no idea what she’d find there, but it couldn’t be any more dangerous than what she was leaving behind.

  Nancy kept running, plunging through the sand until finally the broad, empty stretch of beach gave way to palm trees and undergrowth. It was suddenly very dark, which was good, but she couldn’t see a thing, and the tangled vines and bushes made it impossible to run quietly, which wasn’t so good. She knew she sounded like a scared deer crashing through a forest. She also knew that if Mr. Friendly couldn’t see her, he could hear her, since she could certainly hear him, crashing along right behind her, and he was much too close for comfort.

  After a few minutes, the clumps of trees started to thi
n out, and Nancy realized she was heading uphill. She forced herself to keep going, thinking that at least Lila wouldn’t take off. She couldn’t take that chance, not as long as Nancy was on the run.

  Nancy ran until she was no longer under the safe cover of the trees. She burst out into an open space, under a bright moon, and looked around wildly. If she didn’t find someplace to hide soon, the maintenance man could just bide his time until she collapsed.

  He might already be doing that, Nancy thought. She couldn’t hear him anymore, but she knew he couldn’t be far behind.

  Struggling to keep her balance, Nancy scrambled up a steep incline, and then she stopped, gasping more from fear than from exhaustion. She was on some kind of cliff, and below her—in a sheer, thirty-foot drop—was a smooth stretch of sand, sparkling in the moonlight. Unless she managed to turn herself into a mountain goat, there was no way she could get down.

  And at that moment, Nancy heard heavy gasping sounds. The maintenance man. He was closing in fast, and she knew she was too tired to go through another chase scene with him. She would have to face him. Glancing frantically around, she saw three large rocks grouped together. As the breathing grew louder, Nancy rushed over and hid herself behind them.

  In seconds, the maintenance man was on the cliff. As Nancy watched, peering between two of the rocks, he stopped to get his breath, then turned and began walking slowly in Nancy’s direction, looking everywhere for signs of the girl he’d been chasing.

  Her heart pounding, Nancy made herself wait until he was so close to her hiding place that she could reach out and touch him. Then, in one swift move, her leg shot out, sweeping his feet out from under him, sending him sprawling on the ground.

  The maintenance man was caught completely by surprise, and Nancy was just trying to decide what to do with him when she heard a shout. She looked up, and there, on the edge of the cliff in the bright moonlight, stood Dirk Bowman.