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by Catherine Anderson


  “Hurry it up!” Carmichael shoved the barrel of his gun against Mac’s temple. “You’re stalling.”

  One more number. Mac heard a click. The safe door swung open. His legs wobbled a bit. Sweat was running down his face. Come on, Mac, where’s your pride? He took a deep breath and tensed, trying to prepare himself for the explosion of noise, for the sudden pain that would surely come, even if only for an instant. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Mallory’s face, then Em’s. Knowing they were together made everything worthwhile, all of it, even dying.

  “What the hell? Where is it? I told you, no tricks!”

  Mac focused on the inside of the safe. His guts clenched. No package? He stared at the small piece of white paper lying there, unable to believe his eyes. “It isn’t a trick. I left it here, I swear it.” He had an insane urge to laugh.

  Carmichael snatched up the paper to read what was written on it. Mac swiped at his upper lip, relieved that the gun was no longer pointed at his skull.

  “That stupid little—” Carmichael butted the safe door with the heel of his hand and whirled to glare at his men. “The Christiani woman has taken the package. Can you believe it? The naive little twit thinks she can play power games with me?”

  Now Mac’s legs felt really wobbly. Mallory? She was supposed to be in eastern Washington. Less than thirty minutes ago, Shelby had said, “Don’t worry, Mac. Em and Mallory are both okay.” Shelby had never lied to him. Well, maybe never was too strong a word, but he certainly didn’t make a habit of it. Surely he wouldn’t have started now. Or would he? A wave of nausea rolled over him. Damn. Mallory had stayed in Seattle? Like an idiot, he had brought her to the office and let her see him open the safe. She must have memorized the combination and come here to take the package, probably to try to bargain for his release. He couldn’t bear the thought that she might end up getting herself killed for him.

  Carmichael started roaring orders. “We have to meet her down at the Mukilteo ferry at twelve fifty-five. There isn’t much time. I want every available man on this.”

  * * *

  THE FORLORN CRIES of the gulls drifted on the night breeze, a lonely, spine-chilling sound. Mac climbed from the brown sedan and gazed toward the Kitsap, which was already docked. He ignored the bulge of the gun under Carmichael’s jacket. At this point, Mac sincerely wished it had all ended back there in the office with a bullet between his eyes. He couldn’t see any way Mallory could pull this off, not against a pro like Carmichael. The man had every base covered. There were men here, men across the sound at Clinton Landing, men at the north end of the island on the Deception Pass Bridge. She was trapped with no way out.

  “It’s time,” Carmichael hissed. “Start walking. No funny stuff. Think of it this way. If you behave yourself until we get to her, she can die in your arms. Touching, don’t you agree? Lovers forevermore.”

  Mac yearned to bash the creep’s face in. He set off walking, the parking lot a blur around him, only the ferry in focus. Mallory, where was she? Didn’t she know there were a half dozen high-powered scopes trained on him? The moment she showed herself to give Carmichael the package, they would mow her down. Never in all his life had Mac been so scared. The little fool. He loved her so much. And now she was going to die.

  As they drew near the ferry ramp, Mac spotted the red Mercedes’s gleaming rear fenders, the last car in the far right parking lane. No sign of Mallory. Carmichael swore under his breath. Mac sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Closer, closer. His heart began to slam. His throat constricted until he could scarcely breathe. She was here someplace, but where? Stay hidden, sweetheart. Change your mind. Don’t take a stupid chance like this. I’m not worth it.

  “Stop walking, Carmichael!” Mallory’s voice rang out from somewhere in front of the car. “No sudden moves.”

  Carmichael froze. Mac stopped beside him. His stomach flipped and plummeted to the region of his knees. The loading lanes inside the ferry were lit up. If she showed herself, even for a second, one of the snipers would pick her off. He glimpsed amber hair, just a flash, behind the left front fender of the car. At least she was keeping out of sight. To his utter amazement, his Smith & Wesson, gripped by a small, white hand, appeared.

  “Toss your weapon, Carmichael! Hurry it up. Into the water.”

  Carmichael did as he was told, then turned back, his expression grim.

  “Signal your men not to shoot. I mean it, Carmichael. And you’d better make it convincing. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I can’t hit you before they get me. Remember that gun collection of my husband’s? I’m an ace shot.”

  Carmichael pivoted and waved his arms, then spun back. “I want that package. You can’t run far enough, I promise you that. I’ll find you.”

  Mallory’s head inched up. “You’ll get your package. Put your hands up and start walking, very slowly. Hurry, before the ferry attendants come forward to put up the guard lines.”

  Mac’s legs shook with each step. He and Carmichael reached the ferry and stopped.

  “Okay, Mac, come aboard,” Mallory called.

  Mac stepped on board. As he did, a manila envelope arced through the air and plopped, then skidded, up to Carmichael’s feet.

  “Don’t move! Keep those hands up or I’ll shoot!” Mallory’s voice dripped such venom that Mac scarcely recognized it. “Hurry, Mac, dive for cover.”

  Mac didn’t have to be told twice. He ran in a crouch to join her at the front of the car.

  “Okay, Carmichael, you stand right there. Understand? Until the ferry is well away from the dock. Don’t move. Don’t even breathe. I’ll have this gun trained on you every second.”

  Two ferry operators were coming forward to tie off the safety ropes. When they saw Mallory, they stopped walking.

  “It’s all right. Go on about your business,” she instructed them.

  Since she was holding a gun, they hastened to comply, giving the Mercedes a wide berth. Mac figured they’d hightail it to the bridge and radio for the authorities the first chance they got. The ferry engines began to roar. He felt the vessel begin to move. Mallory didn’t take her eyes off Carmichael until the ferry had moved a safe distance away from the dock. Then she let out a rush of pent-up air and turned to throw her arms around his neck. It was testimony to how scared he was that he didn’t even flinch when he felt the barrel of his .38 bang against the back of his head. If he had to die, he couldn’t think of a better way to do it than with Mallory in his arms.

  “Mallory, you sweet, wonderful little idiot.”

  She laughed almost hysterically. “Oh, Mac, you’re all right. I did it! I did it!”

  He hated to burst her bubble. “Honey, we’re not going to make it! Clinton Landing is crawling with his men. And even if we make it past them, he’s got the bridge covered. We’ll never get off the island, probably not even off the ferry. Why did you do this? Why? I thought we agreed the most important thing was getting Em to safety?” He tightened his arms around her, wishing he could hold her like that forever, protect her, but he knew he couldn’t. If only she had stayed with Shelby. “Didn’t you know he’d cover all the escape routes? I could wring your neck, dammit. How could you do something so totally—”

  “Em is fine. Shelby called me this morning at my motel to let me know they had arrived safely.” She rained kisses on his face, then pulled away. “I have it all figured out. Trust me.” She plucked a large freezer bag off the floor, three layers thick, two bags inserted inside the exterior one. She put the gun into the plastic and sealed it, grinning brightly as she handed it over. “Watertight. If you aren’t a good swimmer, I can carry it.”

  “A good what? Mallory, we can’t swim across the sound.”

  “We aren’t going to swim across it, just partway. Trust me, Mac.” She stood and offered him a hand. “Come on, we have to hurry. I can’t explain it all now.”

  He rose to his feet and zigzagged through cars with her to the other side of the ferry. When they reached the rail, she
began unlacing her shoes. “Hurry up. We don’t have much time. You’d better shed that jacket. You can swim, I hope. I’ve done some lifeguarding, but it’ll be quite a distance to haul you.”

  “You do realize these are orca waters?”

  “Oh, come on, Mac. Have you ever heard of a killer whale attack in this area? Hurry! We have to be ready to jump at just the right moment.”

  He kicked off a shoe and shot a leery glance over the side into the inky black water. Unreasoning anger roiled within him. She was going to end up dead, and there was nothing he could do to save her this time. “I hope you know what you’re getting us into.”

  “Out of. I’m getting us out of trouble. Home free, Mac. We’ll pick up Em tomorrow and then we’re off.”

  “To where?”

  “To anywhere. The Bahamas. Hawaii, maybe? Florida? Mexico would be fun. What suits you?” She peeled off her socks and braced her hands on the rail to look over. “Oh, my, it’s a long way down, isn’t it?”

  She sounded a little shaky. He curled his toes to keep them off the cold cement. “You just noticed? How’s Atlantis strike you? Need I mention that the ferry engines could suck us up? I’ve never seen a ferry engine, mind you, but if they have propellers, we’ll be minced into orca appetizers.”

  “We’ll just have to swim like the devil, that’s all.” Her voice sounded tight. She looked toward the dark hulking outline of Whidbey. The scattered lights twinkled like diamonds. “It won’t be too long now.”

  With a sinking feeling, Mac seconded that. It wouldn’t be long. Fifteen minutes, max. He had wanted so desperately to keep her safe. The thought of what awaited them made him feel sick. Even if they swam to shore and managed to elude Carmichael’s men for a while, they couldn’t do it for long. Whidbey wasn’t that big. He threw a worried glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was approaching, then stuffed the plastic-wrapped gun into his shoulder holster and snaked an arm around her waist to haul her against him. Giving her a fierce hug, he bent his head and buried his face in his favorite spot, the sweet curve of her neck. It was as good a way to pass the time as any—the best way. Minutes slipped past.

  She was trembling, the only outward sign of how truly frightened she was. With a stab of remorse, he realized how much it had cost her to pull this harebrained stunt. And here he was, making cracks. Why? Because he had tried to protect her, and she had muffed it up trying to do the same for him. He hugged her more tightly. He couldn’t stand the thought of her dying.

  But it was done. She had risked everything for him, and the least he could do was make the best of it. Maybe, just maybe, they could squeak through alive. He lifted his head and watched the black outline of Whidbey coming closer. She stiffened in his arms.

  “It’s about time, don’t you think?” She craned her neck to see his face. “See that light just to the left of the landing? Head toward it. That’s where I parked the rental car.”

  Mac stifled a groan. There was no way to drive off the island. “Okay, I’m ready.” He gave her a quick kiss. “If something happens and I sink, this may be my last chance to tell you that you’re quite some lady. Words don’t seem enough.”

  She turned and looped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Mac, if I did this a hundred times over, it’d never make us even. My little girl is safe and happy. I’m the one who doesn’t know how to express my gratitude. Shelby was so wonderful. Em didn’t even care when I left her with him.”

  “Yeah, that’s Shelby for you.” Mac was going to take him apart if he ever got his hands on him. “He’s a great guy. Loves kids. Well, it’s time to jump.”

  He set her away from him to peel off his jacket. They climbed up on the rail together, tensing for the dive. Mac looked over at her, and suddenly, he knew he couldn’t push off without telling her one more thing. Not even his memories of Randy could stop the words from coming. “I love you, Mallory.”

  There were tears sparkling on her cheeks. “I know you do.”

  The next instant, she dived off into the blackness. Panic filled Mac when he lost sight of her. He launched himself into the air. Ice-cold water enveloped him, dragging him down to what seemed like fathomless depths. He fought to reach the surface, but the current dragged him back. Mallory. She was so small. She’d never have the strength— His chest felt as though it might explode. Then, like a cork, he bobbed to the top, shooting from the water to spew and gasp. No Mallory.

  He spun in the water, horribly aware of how close the ferry was. He could feel the current sucking at him, trying to drag him under the broad underside of the vessel. “Mallory!” he screamed. “Mallory, answer me!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Only the surging of the water and the roar of the huge engines answered him. Mac thrashed his arms, swimming first one direction, then another. Where was she? Oh, please, God, please. He couldn’t see far. He thought he heard something and struck off swimming. Blackness. Nothingness. He was swimming away from land.

  “Mallory!” he yelled. “Mallory!”

  Suddenly the water seemed like a living thing, bottomless, monstrous, an overwhelming enemy. And it had literally swallowed up the woman he loved. His breath whined in his lungs. The cold made him feel numb. Frantic, he thought about diving to find her, but he knew there was too large an area and the water was far too deep. He was already tired. The ferry was pulling farther away. If he didn’t head inland soon, he’d never make it.

  “Mallory!” A sob tore up his throat. He couldn’t swim away. He wouldn’t. He’d rather drown with her than leave her. “Mallory! Mallory, answer me!” He was screaming and the ferry engines were no longer nearby to drown out the noise. His voice would carry across the water. Let them hear him. He didn’t care. He had to find her. “Mallory!”

  “Mac! Over here!”

  Joy ripped through him. He flailed in the water, choking, blinking, trying to see her. “Where are you?”

  “Here!”

  He saw the black outline of her arm waving and struck off toward her. When he reached her, they clung to each other, almost sinking. He started to laugh. “You scared the living hell out of me, lady.”

  “I scared you?” She pulled away and started doing a breast stroke. “Come on before you become whale feed.”

  They swam in tandem. It was a long way to shore. When they could finally touch bottom, they were both so exhausted they staggered from the water, their clothes pouring water. Up by the landing, Mac could see Carmichael’s men swarming forward on the ferry dock, waiting for the boat. Mallory took his hand and led him up a steep bank. They had to fight their way through underbrush. When at last they broke through to the road, they had to walk quite a distance to reach the car. She unfastened a key chain from her belt and unlocked the doors.

  “I’ll drive. I know where we’re heading.”

  Mac nearly protested but stopped himself. She had brought them this far. He climbed in and fastened his seat belt. She drove toward the south end of the island and pulled into a winding, overgrown driveway that twisted down to a beach house.

  “It belongs to friends. I called them and they said we could borrow the boat. They keep it gassed up. They left the keys hidden on deck. We’ll have plenty of fuel to reach the Tacoma marina. I have a rental car waiting for us there.”

  A boat? A boat! Of course, a boat. It was perfect. Carmichael would never have thought of them finding a pleasure craft this swiftly. He climbed from the car, feeling suddenly elated. A boat! She had planned this right down to the last detail. He watched her run around to the trunk. Throwing it open, she dragged out a suitcase.

  “Money,” she explained as she led the way down to the boat house. “Enough to take us anywhere.”

  “How much is that?”

  “Give or take a few thousand, a little over eight.”

  Mac nodded. They could hide out a few weeks on that. Then it hit him what she had said. When speaking of less than ten grand, one didn’t say “give or take a few thousand.” He stopped dead in the
path. “Not eight hundred thousand?”

  Mallory giggled. “Isn’t that enough?”

  Eight hundred thousand. Mac knew he should be pleased, but instead he just felt shocked. He had roughly twelve hundred in savings after paying last quarter’s tuition for Danno and Mark. He followed on her heels, saying nothing. And then she opened a boat house the size of a barn and he found himself staring up at the biggest monstrosity of a yacht he had ever seen in his life. “Mallory, honey, this is not a boat. This is a ship.”

  She was already scaling the ladder. “A beauty, isn’t she?”

  “I can’t drive this.” His voice rang like a death knell and bounced off the aluminum walls.

  “You don’t drive it, you navigate it. Throw open the doors for me, would you?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t navigate it then. I’m serious, Mallory. Hold up. Isn’t there a little boat around here?”

  Her wet head appeared over the side. “Mac, I can handle the boat. Just open the doors.”

  “Ship.”

  “Ship, then. Open the doors and loosen the ties.”

  Dubious, he slid the doors wide, struggled to unfasten simple-looking knots that managed to become intricate under his clumsy touch, then climbed aboard, convinced that she wasn’t big enough to handle something so gigantic. To his surprise, she backed it out of the slip like a pro and before he knew it, they were gliding through the black waters of Puget Sound toward Tacoma. Several minutes later, after taking a tour of the ship, which had more rooms than his apartment, he stood beside her at the helm, looking out the cabin windows at the city lights of Seattle twinkling along the coastline.

  “Home free,” she said softly.

  Mac wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, but seeing her at the wheel of such an expensive craft brought it home to him how impossibly distanced their two worlds were. She came to him all wrapped up in a bow with eight hundred thousand dollars resting at her feet, and probably more where that came from.

 

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