005 Hit and Run Holiday (11 page)

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.

N
ANCY 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 the 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.