Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 01 - A Deadly Change of Course--Plan B (7 page)

Chapter Eight

San Diego
—
1996

A
fter parking the Jeep in the marina lot, I pulle
d the brief case and the U.E.B
.
—
short for unidentified electronic box
—
from the passenger seat.  The tape wasn’t holding very well, so I carried the case hugged close to my body like a bag of groceries.  It was nearly
dusk
and the sunset on the Pacific was particularly breathtaking.  I made my way down past the marina office when I noticed two men stepping onto my boat.  I quickly sidestepped behind the office and peered around the corner to see what they were up to.  They were too far away to see any real details, and I couldn’t hear them at all.  One was tall and slender and wore a ponytail.  The other was shorter and stocky, with a shaved head.  My heart pounded.  What were they doing?  I could see the tall one trying to get down below.  The other man appeared to be searching around the deck for something.

For a brief moment, I contemplated taking the gun from its case, marching bravely down the dock and confronting the pair.  Luckily, Mr. Cartwright appeared on the scene and interrupted the intruders before I mustered up the courage to play policewoman.  I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I could see my neighbor pointing in the direction of the Grille restaurant, and then toward the marina office.  Quickly, I ducked back behind the wall before they spotted me.  I counted to twenty,
then
slowly peered back around the corner to see what was going on.  The two men were climbing off my boat.  Mr. Cartwright watched as they made their way back up the dock toward the marina office.  I slipped behind a tall bush growing in a planter next to the front door.  As the pair passed, I could hear bits of their conversation.

“We’ll have to come back later, when the nosy old guy is sleeping,” the taller one said.

“I don’t see why we
didn’t
just
taken
him out.”

“You idiot.
  It’s broad daylight.”

“But
—
”

“Just shut up!”

Those were the last words I could hear clearly.  I stayed behind the bush and watched as the pair got into a black BMW with tinted windows.  They sped off, out of my view in less than a minute.

I hurried down the dock and stopped in front of Mr. Cartwright’s boat.  “Good evening, Miss Lace.  A couple friends of yours were just here looking for you.  They seemed a little insistent on staying on your boat, but I
convinced them to come back later
—
when you were here.  They just left.  In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t pass them on your way in.”

“Really?
  Did they say what they wanted or who they were?” I asked.

“No.  Just that they were friends of yours from way back, and they wanted to invite you to some sort of party or reunion or something.  Funny, they didn’t exactly look like the type of fellows you would
associate
with. 
Very
rough looking.  You know?”

“Hmm.
  Doesn’t sound like anyone I
know.
  Thanks for getting rid of them.”

“Any time, Miss Lace.”

I smiled and tried to appear unfazed as I stepped onto my boat with my case and mystery box in tow.

Everything seemed to be where I’d left it when I departed
that
morning.  The other case and the computer were still sitting safely in my closet.  I stowed the second case and the U.E.B. in the closet next to them and shut the door.  It would to be dark soon
—
I had to act quickly.

I checked my fuel level.  The tank was nearly empty, and I didn’t have time to stop and fuel up.  I had to get out of the marina before it was too dark.  I started the engine and checked my gauges.  Quickly, I scooted along the rail toward the bow and untied the line
s
to the dock.  I pulled up the fenders as I made my way back to the stern and liberated my boat from the confinements of the dock.  Slowly, I backed out of my slip as Mr. Cartwright watched with undivided attention.  I waved and smiled
as I carefully made my way around all the obstacles in the marina and headed out toward the open sea. 

I could still see the lights of the marina by the time the sun was completely down, but I felt I was out far enough to be safe
that night
.  I didn’t dare go any further with my fuel situation the way it was.  I dropped anchor and settled in for the night.  I didn’t have a plan yet, but I was working on one.

I called Jason’s number and he picked up on the third ring. 
“Hey, Jason.”

“Dev.
  What’s going on?”

“I’m out on my boat right now.  I need you to do me a favor.”

“Sure, Dev.
  What is it?”

“Can you get over to the marina and get my Jeep?  I need you to take it over to your place tonight.  You know where I keep the spare key?” I asked.

“Yeah.
  What’s going on, Dev?  Why can’t you bring it over yourself?”

“I’m literally out on my boat.  You’ll have to bring the Jeep to me when I decide where I’m going.  Right now I need to get it away from the marina.  Listen, Jason.  I need you to do it now, while it’s early, not later tonight.  Is that okay?”

Jason paused.  “No, Dev.  I’m not doing another thing for you until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Jason.  I promise I’ll tell you everything when I see you tomorrow.  But right now, I need your help.  Will you do it for me?  Please?”

He buckled, as usual.  “Okay, Dev.  But this is the last time, unless you keep your promise and tell me what the devil is going on.  Understand?”

“I understand.  You need to get over there right now.  If you see anyone hanging around my slip, just leave.  Don’t go anywhere near them, and don’t let them see you take my Jeep.  I’ll call you tomorrow when I dock to let you know where to bring it.”

“You’d better keep your promise.”

“I will,” I said, then powered off my cell phone.

I made a sandwich and took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.  Rifling through a stack of books I kept in a cupboard over the dining table, I spotted what I was looking for, and I pulled the book down from the shelf. 
The Fine Art of Sailing
.
  I’d picked it up just before I bought the
Plan B
, but hadn’t had a chance to read it.  I settled down in a chair on the deck with a lantern, my dinner, and the book, and started to read.

It was past eleven when I finally checked my watch.  I closed the book, picked up my empty plate and the lantern, and went inside.  I lay in bed, noticing every movement of the boat.  It was very dark and quiet out
t
here.  I dozed off a couple of times, but a disturbing dream kept jarring me out of my sleep.  Around three in the morning, as I tried to fall back to sleep, I heard the faint sound of an engine in the distance.  I got up and felt my way to the door.  I didn’t want to put on my anchor lights, but I didn’t want any boats to run into me, either.  Scanning the horizon in the direction of the sound, I spotted lights coming toward me.  Would those two
thugs actually procure a boat and come looking for me?  That was ridiculous.  They could have no hope of finding me out in the vast ocean, in the middle of the night.  I was just being paranoid.  But still, I watched as the vessel made its way past my position and proceeded north
—
probably headed for Catalina Island.  I went back to bed and tried to think of a plan.

It seemed like an eternity before the sun finally began to peak over the horizon.  I sat up in my bunk and peered out the window to check the weather.  It was barely light enough to make out the shape of something strange, just off of the starboard side.  I strained my eyes to focus on the object.
Oh my God, it’s a boat
.  I jumped out of bed, frantically searching for my deck shoes.  Just as I got the second one on, I could see the hatch door latch turn.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t move.  I just sat there, paralyzed with fear.  Then I heard a familiar voice inside my head telling me,
Don’t
panic.  Never panic.  It won’t help.

The ugly scarred face of the ponytailed thug smirked at me through the open hatch. 
“Top of the morning to you, ma’am.
 
Permission to board?”

“It’s a little late to ask permission,” I said.  “You’re already on board.”

“That I am. 
How about permission to come below?”

“Get off my boat,” I growled.

“Is that any way to talk to a guest?” he shot back
.

He started down the steps.  I thought of the gun sitting in my closet.  The case was wrapped in duct tape.  I could never get it opened, let alone remove and load the
gun before he got to me.  He stepped off the last stair and gazed around at the interior of the
Plan B.

“My.  What a neat boat you have here.  Must be nice to be able to just up and set sail whenever you want.”

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Want?  What makes you think I want something?  My friend and I were just out messing around and saw this cool boat.  We thought you might be in trouble, or need some help.  Out here all alone?”

“I don’t need any help.  Now, get off my boat.”

“Okay.  Just settle down.  I’ll leave in a minute, but first, how about a little breakfast?  My friend and me, we’re real hungry.  We’ve been out all night looking for… for whales, yeah, that’s it, we’re whale watching.”

“You’re not going to see any whales around here this time of year.  Where’s this friend you keep talking about?” I asked.  Then I saw the feet and legs of his partner through the window.  He was up on the deck, making his way to the bow of the boat.

“Really?
  No whales?  Where do I have to go to see whales?”

I scowled at him.  My cell phone was sitting in its charger on the galley table.  I couldn’t get to it without going past him.  Even if I could, I didn’t know who I would call.  No one could get here in time to help me.  He started walking toward me.  As he approached, I made a dive for the galley table and scrambled under it.  He grabbed my ankle and tried to pull me back.  I struggled and kicked hard enough to hit him in the face
with my free foot.  He let go of my leg and held his hands to his bleeding nose.

H
e cursed has he struggled to his feet.

I sprung out from under the table and lunged toward the hatch door.  He caught the fabric of my T-shirt with one hand and pulled me back against him, then removed a gun he had tucked in his waistband and began waving it in my face.

“
You’re
gonna
pay for this, lady!
” he screamed.  “You just
broke my nose!
”

I didn’t have time to think of any elaborate plan.  If I was going to get out of this, I would have to act quickly.  I saw it sitting there on the counter where I had left it the night before.  In one swift motion, I grabbed Marty’s fish bowl and swung it hard against his head.  He fell to the floor, along with a thousand pieces of broken glass.

“There.  Now were even,” I said.  “I broke your nose, and you broke my fish bowl.”

His partner heard the commotion. 
“Hey, Tommy.
  What’s going on down there?  You take care of her, yet?” he called from up on the deck.

I snatched the gun from the unconscious thug’s hand and hurried up the steps to the deck.

Baldy was hanging over the side, losing his breakfast
—
not paying any attention to me.  With trembling hands, I aimed the weapon at him.

“Get your hands in the air and turn around,” I demanded.

Slowly, he straightened up and stared at me.  “Whoa.  C’mon, lady.  Don’t shoot,” he said.

“Face down, on the deck,” I ordered.

The boat rocked.  He started to put his hands down to grab the rail.  I fired the gun over his head.  “I told
you,
keep your hands in the air.  I’m serious.”

“Okay.  Okay.  Just please, don’t shoot me,” he whimpered.

“Lie down on the deck and I won’t.”

He fell to his knees,
then
went belly first on the deck.  I took the gun he had holstered under his arm and felt to see if he had any others.  I was only wearing the T-shirt I had slept in, and my deck shoes.  There was no place to safely tuck the weapon on my body.  I was afraid to leave it on deck, in case one of them managed to get their hands on it.  Reluctantly, I threw it overboard,
then
motioned for him to get up and go down below, through the hatch door.