Against the Tide (17 page)

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Authors: Melody Carlson

BOOK: Against the Tide
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TWENTY

G
arret felt a rush of alarm to see Megan was no longer in Rory's Jeep. Where had she gone? He'd been in the store less than a minute, calling for Wade, who appeared to be missing, as well. Had they both gone to the house together? He was about to go see when he heard someone yelling.

“Hey!” a male voice called out. “Over here!”

Garret peered through the fog, trying to see the man waving at him from the dock.

“Somebody's hurt!” the man yelled.

Thinking it was Megan, Garret ran down toward him. “Who is it?” he demanded. “What happened?” As he got closer, he saw the caller was Mike Fowler, an older guy who docked his boat here.

“I don't know,” Mike said, leading Garret to the end of the dock. “I was working on my boat when I heard someone moaning and groaning. He's right there.” Mike pointed down at a small fishing boat.

Garret looked down to see Wade rubbing his head with a bewildered expression. “What happened to you?” He climbed in to help Wade to his feet.

“Kent showed up.” Wade wobbled a little as he stood. “Had a gun. He made me come down here then he whacked me on the head. That's the last I remember.”

Garret turned back to Mike. “Did you see anything?”

Mike shrugged. “I sure didn't see that.”

“But did you see anyone on the dock?”

Mike rubbed his chin. “Yeah, there was a man and woman just a little bit ago.”

“Did the woman have reddish hair?” Garret demanded.

“Yep. She sure did. Pretty, too.” He described the man, and Garret knew it was Kent.

“Where did they go?”

“I went below before they got down this far. But I did hear a boat take off. Thought that was odd since we're so fogged in. Who'd wanna go fishing on the river now? And with the red-flag warning, no one in his right mind would head for the ocean but it did sound like they went downriver.” He grimly shook his head.

“Give me a hand with him,” Garret commanded Mike, and together they got Wade onto the dock. “Take him to the store and call 911. Explain what happened and that I went after the boat. Tell them to send out the coast guard.”

Mike nodded as he supported Wade. “So this is serious?”

“Oh, yeah!” Garret turned away, running for his boat. He jumped in and within two minutes he was pulling away from the dock and heading downriver. Mike was right. This was no day for fishing or going on the ocean. But there were a number of coves and home docks between here and the sea. It was possible Kent had taken Megan to one of those spots to lie low.

Garret prayed as he navigated down the river. Barely able to see in what his grandma would have called pea soup, he couldn't go fast. He knew the odds of finding Megan were minuscule, and so as he trolled along, he prayed. After he prayed, he had to ask himself questions. Why would Kent kidnap Megan? She must've had Rory's envelope on her. Why not just steal that and let Megan go? Except that she would've seen him and could identify him. And in that case, what would Kent do with her? Garret hated to think about that. Better to focus on finding her. That meant finding Kent's boat.

The low tide was starting to ebb now, making the water fairly smooth and calm. Garret turned off his motor to just listen, hoping to pick up the sound of Kent's motor and head in that direction. But he heard nothing but the water slapping against the side of the boat as the current carried him along. Was it possible that Kent had taken his dory over the bar? The ocean wasn't really that rough today, but visibility was terrible. Of course, Kent could land his dory on any sandy stretch of beach. And thanks to the weather, Garret's chances of finding him were about zero.

As his boat continued drifting downriver, Garret thought he could maybe hear the low rumble of a boat motor. He strained his ears to listen. Was it possible that Kent was nearby? And where was the coast guard?

Garret looked downriver, trying to see the form of a small boat. He knew that Kent, like him, wouldn't be using his running lights. Garret patted his revolver, thankful he'd strapped it on before going to lunch. He considered starting his motor again, but knew that noise would draw unwanted attention. If Kent was up ahead, it would be better to slowly sneak up on him. But what then? A shootout would endanger Megan.

Garret noticed a floating log up ahead. Not so unusual this time of year, but not something a boater wanted to encounter. It could wreak havoc on propellers. Not that he was concerned since his motor wasn't running, but he didn't want to risk the sound of the floating log clunking against his metal hull. So he reached for a paddle and, leaning over the starboard side of the bow, he was prepared to push it away with the paddle.

But as he got closer, he realized this was not just a log. There was something blue on it. And as he got even closer, he realized it was a woman. “Megan!” he said in a hushed voice. Her head popped up and their eyes locked. “Be quiet,” he warned as he went to grab a line. “Catch this,” he instructed as he prepared to throw it to her.

It took several tries, but she eventually got it and he quickly pulled her toward his boat, thanking God with each tug. “Try to be quiet,” he said as he reached for her hands to hoist her onto his boat.

“Thank God,” she mumbled as they embraced. She was white as a sheet and shivering with cold as he helped her to a seat. He removed his own coat, wrapping it around her. And then he went to a stowage bench where he dug out an emergency blanket, wrapping that over her, as well. “Get low,” he whispered. “I can hear a motor running nearby. I'm guessing it's Kent.”

She nodded and, following his instructions, got down on the deck. Huddling with the coat and blanket still around her, she looked like a small, frightened child, and everything in him wanted to get down beside her to comfort her. But he knew if they were going to make it out of this, he needed to move—and move fast.

“I'm going to have to run my engine now,” he quietly explained as he got ready to start it. “It'll make some noise so I'm going to gun it and really take off. But I know that Kent's dory has a big engine. I'm guessing he'll follow.”

She nodded with wide eyes. “He's got a gun.”

“Yeah, I heard.” He leaned down to look into her eyes. “Pray for us, Megan.” And then he kissed her forehead and felt relieved to see her smile. Then he started his engine. To his relief it started without a hitch. He went for the helm and immediately turned the boat toward the marina. But with only his compass to guide him, he couldn't be positive.

He heard the other boat engine revving and he knew that Kent would be in hot pursuit, but he hadn't expected him to get here so quickly—or to be so close to the town side of the river. Garret knew that Kent was trying to cut him off by positioning himself between Garret and the marina.

He tried to think as he pushed his boat even faster. There was no way he was going to outrun Kent. And now he could see the dark outline of Kent's dory on the leeward side, quickly catching up. Garret felt like they were a sitting duck now and, just as he suspected, Kent began to shoot.

Garret saw water starting to pour through the bullet holes and knew he needed to think fast. Suddenly, he remembered a spit of land on the other side of the river that was exposed at low tide. It was possible that Kent wouldn't know about it. But with water coming in fast, there was little time to think.

Garret gunned his engine to full throttle and took off across the river, hoping and praying that he was close to the spit, but knowing it was a long shot. The boat was filling fast, slowing down—and Kent was in fast pursuit. Garret pulled out his gun now and let loose with several shots, praying he'd hit Kent's boat and it, too, would start filling with water. Naturally these shots were returned.

“We're gonna have to jump,” Garret told Megan as he turned the boat upriver. “Think you can swim again?” She leaped to her feet, joining him in the bow as he used a line to secure the helm to keep the boat headed upriver.

“The boat goes one way and we go the other,” he quickly explained as he took her hand, leading her to the side. “Ready?”

Together they went over the railing and into the fast-moving cold water. Meanwhile, Garret's boat continued upriver. As more shots were fired, it was clear that Kent was not giving up. And based upon the shots splashing into the nearby water, Garret felt certain Kent had spotted them. No way could they outswim the dory! And with little visibility and no sign of land nearby, Garret didn't know if they'd even jumped out in the right spot. Were they about to die together?

TWENTY-ONE

M
egan had never been so cold or tired in her life, but the feeling of sandy loam river bottom beneath her feet gave her hope. Suddenly, they both were trudging out of the river, falling down onto the sandy shore, coughing and sputtering and gasping.

“Are you okay?” Garret reached for her hand.

“I guess,” she said breathlessly as he pulled her to her feet. Did he really expect her to walk now? Her legs felt like overcooked spaghetti.

“We gotta get out of sight.” He tugged her back into the water.

“No more,” she protested in exhaustion. “Can't swim.”

“Wading,” he explained. “To hide our footprints.”

“Oh.” She clung to what little warmth was in his hand as he led her through the shallow water. She was so cold she could barely feel her feet and she'd long since lost her shoes. Finally, they came to a reedy area and Garret began to lead them inland, eventually collapsing amongst the taller reeds. Megan flopped backward and Garret flopped down beside her.

“We should be out of sight here,” he said wearily.

“Where are we?” She was still trying to catch her breath.

“I'd hoped to find a spit,” he explained. “Not even sure this is it. But maybe it doesn't matter.”

“I'm so cold.” Megan shivered.

Garret sat up, pulling her close to him as he wrapped his arms around her. “Let's keep each other warm if we can.”

Megan didn't resist as she snuggled up against him and, whether it was from body heat or just the closeness of a man she had feelings for, she did begin to feel warmer. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said quietly. “I don't think I would've made it otherwise.”

“I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw you on that log,” he murmured. “God must've been watching out for us.”

For a while they just sat there in the reeds, holding on to each other and trying to get warm. Although she was still shivering, Megan didn't think she was going to die from hypothermia. Well, depending on how long they had to remain here. She looked past the reeds to the foggy river. She couldn't see the other side, but suspected that they were just a mile or so past town. That meant there should be a few houses nearby.

“So what are we going to do now?” She could feel her breathing growing more normal. “Should we hike out and look for help?” She looked at her soggy socks, wondering how far she could actually hike. To her surprise Garret still had on his athletic shoes, but he was shivering. She realized she had on his coat and started to remove it.

“No, you keep it on,” he said.

She tried not to stare as he removed his long-sleeved knit shirt, wringing it out. She couldn't help but notice he was in good shape as he pulled it back on. “That'll help some.” He pointed to one of the pockets on his coat. “My phone should be in there.”

She unzipped and removed it, handing it to him.

He messed with it, but finally set it aside. “It's shot.” Now he removed his Ruger from his holster, carefully checking it out.

“Is your gun toast, too?”

“It might still work.” He emptied the two remaining bullets then blew through the chamber, looking down the barrel. Now he pulled out more bullets and, after rolling them between his hands and blowing on them, started to reload them into his gun.

“Do you really think you could shoot him?” she asked quietly.

“Kent?” Garret shrugged as he closed the chamber. “I wouldn't want to kill him. Or anyone, for that matter. But I don't mind stopping him from killing us.”

“He admitted to being involved in my dad's death,” she said grimly.

“You're kidding?” Garret's brows arched. “He actually confessed that?”

“Yeah. That's when I knew he planned to kill me. Otherwise he wouldn't have disclosed that. Don't you think?”

He barely nodded. “What did he say?”

“He admitted helping to sink Dad's boat. Said he did it with his gun. Someone else did something to Dad. Somehow knocked him out. Kent said he never even felt it.” She shuddered. “I imagined a hypodermic needle.”

“And based on what we heard about the autopsy, I'm guessing no one noticed.” Garret shook his head.

“And no toxicology,” she said sadly.

“Well, at least we have a general idea of what happened.” Garret looked up and down the river. “I can't tell if this is the spit or not, but the tide is starting to come in. If it is the spit, it will eventually be under water.”

“We should probably move,” Megan said. “In case Kent comes back.”

“Just what I was thinking.” He stood, helping Megan to her feet.

“And if this isn't the spit—if it's land—we might be able to find a house and use a phone.”

He pointed to her socks. “Can you walk in those?”

“My feet are so numb, I probably won't feel anything, anyway.”

He visibly shivered and Megan unzipped his coat. “Here, take this. I'm already starting to warm up a little. I don't need two coats.”

He reluctantly took it, adjusting his gun holster before he zipped it up. “Let's go.”

He led her through the reeds and after a fairly short distance they came to water. “It must be the spit,” she told him. “You were right.”

“Well, that's amazing. But that means we'll be stuck here. Unless you want to swim.”

She shuddered. “How far is it?”

“A lot farther than it was to get here.”

“I honestly don't know if I can make it, Garret.” She felt close to tears. “But if you think you can make it, maybe I could wait here.”

“I'm not leaving you alone. Besides, the coast guard should be here soon. And then I'll shoot an emergency shot.”

“You mean if your gun works.”

“It'll work,” he said in a less than certain tone, peering out over the water. “But I really thought they'd be here by—” He grabbed her arm, pulling her down to the damp sand and holding a forefinger over his lips. “Hear that?” he said quietly.

She listened then nodded. “Maybe it's the coast guard,” she said in a hushed tone.

But he simply shook his head. “Wrong motor.”

“Kent?”

He nodded grimly, pointing upriver to where she could see the shadowy outline of a dory slowly rumbling toward them. Did Kent suspect they were on this spit? Had he spotted the place where they'd come out of the water? Was he circling the spit? She knew the spit wasn't very wide, but wondered how long it was, if there was any place to hide on it. Maybe back in the taller reeds, although she felt too afraid to move as the menacing shadow continued to approach.

“You said this was a spit,” she whispered in his ear. “Doesn't that mean it's attached to land?”

“Only at minus tide,” he whispered back. “Not today.”

“Can we get back into the high reeds?” she asked.

“Not without being seen. Don't move.” Garret silently unzipped his black parka, slowly spreading it like wings to shield her more visible blue parka from the boat.

Kneeling on the ground behind his open parka, Megan shivered and prayed. She prayed that the dory would just keep on going...and that the coast guard was on their way. But to her horror, the engine slowed down and the next thing she knew, Garret was pushing her to her feet. “To the reeds,” he said as they took off, the sound of gunshots following them.

They dove into the reeds, but the gunshots continued. “Should we go to the other side of the spit?” she asked. “So he'd have to go around?”

“He's in a dory,” Garret said as he removed his gun. “He can land it on the sand.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And it sounds like that's what he's doing.” Garret held up his gun, clearly getting ready to aim and to shoot.

“Do you think it'll really work?” she whispered fearfully.

“Pray that it does.”

But before she could pray, she saw the silhouette of a man clomping through the reeds toward them. As he got closer, she knew it was Kent. And besides a handgun, he appeared to have a rifle, too. Garret raised his revolver and pulled the trigger. Nothing!

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