Course of the Heart (8 page)

Drew’s mind raced. He could see no positive outcome from this. But if he tried anything now, it could get them both killed. The guy was obviously not of sound mind. He was a slowly ticking time bomb.

He needed to think of something and he needed to think fast. Sam gave him a questioning look and he nodded for her to comply with Chester’s instructions. They had no other choice, not as long as the prick had a gun leveled on them.

Drew cringed when she ripped the distributor wire from the plug. There went their chance to start the engine.

He sat for a long while next to Sam in the dinghy, both of them handcuffed to the engine. He was mostly silent, in deep thought, while Bynum hefted another bag into the sailboat, and went below. He emerged periodically and shined a light toward the dinghy, as if Drew and Sam might not be there. After eternity long while, Chester re-appeared, smiling and brushing his hands.

“Now, I believe that completes my tasks.” He walked toward the stern and threw the bags back into his dinghy, then jumped onboard and placed the urn next to him.

“So, you’re going to just leave us here?” Sam asked, and Drew flinched.

“Let him leave, Sam,” he whispered.

“Silly me,” the man said, and Drew braced for the worst. Bynum shoved their dinghy adrift with his foot. “Of course not. I wouldn’t just leave you here, now would I? That wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“That would be fine, Chester,” Drew said. “We’re fine. You just go on now. You’ve got the urn, you’ve gotten what you came for. Just leave us alone. If you’ll toss us the key to these cuffs, we’ll be on our way.”

“You know what,” the man said with a sick look on his face. “I think I accidentally dropped those keys overboard. But not to worry, you aren’t going to need them anyway.”

“Is that right?” Drew just had to ask.

“Oh yes, that’s correct.” He looked at his wristwatch. “In about . . . let’s see. In about forty-three, no forty-two minutes, there won’t be any boat for you to sail away on, Mr. Richey. I’m afraid there’s going to be a rather loud boom. I don’t think there will be enough of a boat left to do much sailing.”

“You son of a—,” Sam said, and began to cry.

Chester’s smile disappeared and he pointed the gun toward them.

“Jesus, Sam,” Drew whispered. “Now you’ve really pissed him off.”

Sam leaned against Drew and he squinted his eyes shut in preparation to meet his maker. He heard three shots ring out and Sam screamed. The dinghy shifted as air hissed from the holes rendered by the shots. Chester laughed, started his engine, and untied the line to the sailboat.

“Have a great night,” he shouted as he sped away.

Several minutes after the dinghy was out of sight, Sam leaned away from Drew and opened her eyes. The dinghy was still afloat, but getting lower in the water by the minute.

“What are we going to do?”

Drew’s first inclination was to laugh. Was he supposed to have a plan? Realizing panic wasn’t the answer, his mind raced for answers. He had to prevent them from going down with the dinghy. He estimated he had about five minutes to come up with a solution. Even if he could get the cuffs loose, get back to
Sail Out
and find the charges, he still had to figure out what to do with the explosives.

Not the most stellar of situations.

A beginning of a plan materialized in his mind. “We have to figure out how to get back to the boat.”

“Are you crazy? I don’t want to get blown up, do you?”

“If we don’t get to the boat and off of this dinghy, it won’t matter about the explosion. We’ll already have drowned.”

“So how do we do that?”

“The wind’s against us, so we can’t paddle our way, especially since the dinghy has taken on so much water already. We’ve got to find a way out of these cuffs.” He searched his pockets. Nothing.

Sam reached behind her neck. “I have a bobby pin. In fact, two of them.”

“Great, give me one.”

For several minutes they frantically picked at the locks, to no avail. Drew was about to go to plan B when he heard the click from Sam’s cuffs.

“I’ve got it,” she said, smiling. She freed her hand from the cuff, rubbing it. “Let me see yours.”

“We don’t have time.” The water was minutes from spilling over the gunnels of the dinghy. “We’ve got to get the dinghy over to the boat or to the island.”

Drew glanced over the bow and saw that the boat had drifted further, now better than fifty yards away. Looking the other way, he eliminated the island as an option. Too far.

Sam jumped into the water and swam around to the bow of the dinghy, grabbed the rope, and started swimming. The dinghy hardly moved.

“What the hell are you doing? Drew knew she couldn’t do it alone, not in the few minutes left before the dinghy ended up at the bottom of the inlet. Sitting on the edge, he fell backward into the water.

“What are
you
doing?” Sam screamed as he surfaced. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Without wasting his breath, he grabbed the motor brace with his cuffed hand and began treading water with his free arm. The dinghy began moving. But would the remaining air in the dinghy be enough to give the engine enough buoyancy to keep it from pulling him to the bottom before they reached the sailboat?

Both swam frantically for the next two minutes until the engine began to sink. With his head barely above water, Drew called out.

“Forget it, Sam.” He was too winded to carry on much farther. “Swim to the island, get to safety, and forget about the boat.”

“No,” she shouted, and began crying. Her adrenalin must have kicked in. The boat was moving faster. He took a deep breath and his head went under with the rest of the engine. Below the surface he was surprised at how quiet it had become. He willed himself to remain calm, although he knew it was the end. There was nothing to stop him now from sinking into the abyss.

Samantha made a final surge toward the stern transom of the sailboat, as the end of the rope began pulling her downward. With a last effort stretch she reached out for the transom rail under the surface of the water and caught enough of it to keep from being pulled under with the boat and Drew.

The thought of Drew and his kiss spurred her on. With the help of a final hit of adrenalin, she was able to hoist the end of the line around the transom rail and tie a crude knot to keep it in place. She burst through the surface of the water, gasping for air. She pulled herself onto the transom and hooked the line holding the engine around her leg.

With one arm she held onto the transom ladder rail, with the other she began towing the line upward. When this wasn’t enough leverage, she held the line and stood on the transom, pulling with both arms and with all of her strength. When she had enough of the line to reach a stern winch, she circled the spool a few times and looked around for the winch handle. She had seen how Drew used it for leverage in trimming the sails. Now she would use it for another purpose.

The handle wasn’t within her reach, and she prayed the line would stay around the spool while she hurried to get it. When she released the winch, it spun out, but before she lost the line altogether, it jammed on the spool. Returning with the handle, she quickly began winding the line in. How long had Drew been under water? Was she too late? Crying so hard now she could hardly wind the spool, she looked over the stern to the transom. Relief flooded her when the front of the deflated dinghy appeared above the surface of the water.

Securing the handle, she jumped onto the transom and hauled the dinghy around to its stern, until she spotted the engine. It was far too heavy to lift from the water. She found a line on the starboard side and ran it through the engine brace, winched it up and secured it to a cleat. Lying flat on the transom, she was able to reach down and grab Drew’s cuff. She pulled it upward until she touched his hand. He wasn’t moving.

“Don’t you dare die on me now, Drew Richey,” she shouted through sobs. Straining, she pulled his face to the surface. His eyes were closed and he made no effort to breathe.

“Goddammit, Drew.” She slapped his face and held fast to his arms. “Breathe!”

Long seconds later, he coughed and sputtered and Sam cried harder. She cupped his face as his eyes opened and lightly kissed his lips.

“The charges,” he managed, and Sam froze.

She had totally forgotten about the explosives. Her joy turned to panic.

Drew pulled himself onto the transom, with help from Sam. But that was as far as he could go, given that the waterlogged engine was cleated to the transom and he was still handcuffed to it.

“We’ve got to work fast, Sam. I don’t know how much time we have left. Can you go below and see if you can find the explosives?”

“I . . . I can try.”

“Don’t touch anything. Just locate them and see if there’s a timer.”

She scrambled into the cockpit and disappeared below. In a matter of seconds she shouted out.

“Found what looks like dynamite wrapped in plastic.”

“How big?”

“About the size of a briefcase.”

“Son of a . . .” he whispered, then shouted, “can you see any wires attaching the charges to where they are located?” He leaned in toward the cockpit as far as the cuff allowed.

“No . . . I don’t know, I can’t see any, but they’re in a corner and I can’t see behind them.”

“Was there a timer?”

“Eleven and a half minutes.”

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Never mind.” His mind raced. Now what? If Sam attempted to remove them, it might set the charges off. He had to get her away from the boat. And the only way to save his own life was to get out of the cuffs or get the explosives off the boat.

“Sam, come here please.”

“Yes.” She stared at him with frightened eyes.

“We can’t take a chance on moving the explosive. I want you to swim to that island and wait for me. Just give me another hairpin before you go. ”

“Oh, no.” Her lips trembled. “You’re not going to get me to fall for that one. I’m not leaving you here to die. I nearly lost you once today. I won’t do it again. If we can’t get you out of those cuffs, then . . . we’re in this together.”

“Goddammit, woman, I’m not worth dying for. If I
were
to get out of this mess, next step would be to drop you faster than a hot potato. You don’t need somebody like me. Trust me, saving yourself is your best option.”

As he finished his last attempt to get her to leave she’d already disappeared below. She was quickly back, with several items in her hands.

“Did you not hear what I said, woman? Get the hell off . . .”

“Shut-up, Drew and be still. I’m getting you out of this cuff, if I have to chew your arm off.”

She cried, working frantically to pick the lock of the cuff. After several frustrating minutes, he curled a finger under her chin, lifting her face up. A warm rain began to fall.

“Listen to me, baby.” He smiled and wiped the tears and rain from her eyes. “It’s no use. Time is nearly gone. Please listen to me, Sam. You’ve got to get out of here. And you have to leave me. I don’t know how it happened but I’m crazy about you, and I don’t want to see you die. Would you do that for me, sweetheart? Would you just dive off right now and swim as hard as you can to that island. Put your cell phone in a plastic bag, grab a bottle of water and go. Somebody will find you, and look—it might be all right for me. There might not be enough charges to sink the boat. I might even make it through. Then you can come back and get me out of this.”

“No!”

Thunder sounded in the distance. Crying harder, she slammed his arm and cuff against the transom. Her eyes widened as the cuff popped open. Drew laughed, removed the cuff, and jumped from the water.

“You did it, baby.” He embraced her. Lightning flashed as the rain intensified. She took his hand and turned toward the water. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, I’m going to take a look. You start swimming. I swear, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Drew, we have to go now. It could blow any second.”

“One minute. Go! I promise, I’ll be right behind you.”

She folded her arms and shook her head. Rivulets of rain streamed down her face.

“Jesus, you are one stubborn woman.” He turned toward the cockpit. She followed close behind.

Below deck, he surveyed the situation, reading the timer. They had four minutes and eighteen seconds left. He felt carefully around the sides of the charges as Sam shined a flashlight under and behind.

“Sam, start the engine, there’s an extra key taped under the pedestal. I don’t think this is wired to any stationary detonation device. We’re going to ditch this shit, and then high-tail it.”

She was on deck in a flash, then the engines fired up. Rain pounded the bulkhead. He slowly and gently lifted the charges from the corner of the settee, holding his breath. He edged his way up the entryway ladder as the clock ticked to under three minutes. He sat down in the cockpit momentarily to steady himself.

“Head out into the inlet, as fast as this boat will go.”

Sam revved the engine and the boat moved forward slowly. Lightening flashed, followed closely by teeth rattling thunder.

The timer ticked to less than two minutes. Drew made his way to the transom and leaned out to the starboard side and lowered the charges into the water and released them, squinting and bracing for detonation. It didn’t happen. He watched as the red timer on the charges disappeared into the depth of the black water.

The boat had picked up speed as he joined Sam at the wheel. He quickly tied the wheel off and checked the heading. He took Sam’s hand and pushed her ahead of him, toward the entryway of the cabin. As she quickly descended the steps and reached the cabin floor, the force of the explosion threw Drew down on top of her. The wake and spray from the blast followed, drenching the cockpit and rocking the boat as they lay together on the galley floor.