24

As she crossed the street, Cassie could see that Patty was already waiting at her boat and deep in conversation with someone. Something about the set of his shoulders was disquietingly familiar, and Cassie paused by an informational sign to watch. Patty was shaking her head while the fellow seemed to be pressing her about something. Patty shook her head again, checked her watch, and glanced around, saying something that caused him to turn and rake the area with his eyes. It was Luke Matthews.

Hating the sinking feeling she got in the pit of her stomach every time she saw him, Cassie stepped out of sight behind the sign and waited. Presently she peeked around and saw Luke stalk off in the opposite direction. She heaved a sigh, wiped her palms on her pants, and continued on her way.

“There you are,” Patty called from the controls of the already-idling boat. “Ready to go?”

“Yes. Want me to cast off?”

“Yep. How was your visit?”

“Good. Who was that I saw you talking with just now?”

As they pulled away from the dock, Patty repeated, “Just now? Someone asking for directions.”

The water was choppy when they got out into the strait, and as Patty opened her up, the bow went slap, slap, slap on the water. In spite of the sunshine, it was chilly, so Cassie put on her fleece and zipped it up.

As she sat close to the cabin out of the sharp breeze, she thought she heard a skip in the roar of the engine, just a momentary glitch. There it was again. Looking up at Patty, Cassie saw her frown.

Then there was a serious break in the steady thrumming. The engine faltered, revved, faltered, revved, then sputtered to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” Cassie asked. Standing up to look, she could see that they were about halfway between Cedar Cove and Quarry Harbor and there were no other boats in sight. The choppy waves were about a foot high, and the boat wallowed around as it drifted. Patty didn’t answer. She was in the cabin, and Cassie could hear her opening and closing cupboard doors.

The random motion of the boat was causing Cassie to feel queasy. She stood by the starboard gunwale just in case and tried to stave off the nausea, taking deep breaths and looking at the horizon. As the cruiser turned to face the mouth of Quarry Harbor, the sun reflected off the white cabin of a boat coming out and turning toward them. “I see a boat,” she shouted at Patty. “Maybe they can help.”

At that moment, the boat rocked violently to starboard, and as Cassie gripped the railing to keep from being flung over, she was hit from behind. An inarticulate, involuntary cry of pain was cut short as her knees buckled and everything went dark.

* * *

Cassie came to as she was being hauled out of the water and up onto the deck of Patty’s boat. Disoriented, she couldn’t figure out where she was, why she should be all wet, or why Aaron Fletcher should be kneeling over her, holding her wrist and lifting her eyelids. Impatiently, she brushed his hand away.

“She’s coming ’round!” Patty exclaimed.

“Her vitals are good,” Aaron said. “Pupils are fine. I think she’s going to be all right.”

Patty picked up Cassie’s hand and held it tightly between her own. “Hello, Cassie. You scared me half to death. I don’t know what I’d have done if Aaron hadn’t come along.”

Cassie looked vacantly from Patty to Aaron. She still couldn’t put this experience in context.

“I snared you with the boat hook and kept you from going under,” Patty continued, “but I would never have been able to pull you aboard.”

“My head hurts,” Cassie murmured.

“You’ve got a pretty good goose egg back there,” Aaron said. “It’ll probably be sore for a couple of days.”

“What happened?”

“The davit swung around and hit you,” Patty said.

Suddenly the memory came flooding back. Cassie remembered the trip with Patty, her talk with Amy, the news article in the Island Standard office. She remembered Luke Matthews arguing with Patty Porter, and Patty shaking her head as though she were reluctant to do what he was asking her to do.

“Did you see the davit hit me?” Cassie asked Aaron.

“No. When I got here Patty had you on the end of the boat hook. She couldn’t let go and get to the radio and call for help, so she was waving frantically as I went by. I just happened to see her.”

“I think I can sit up now.” Cassie allowed Aaron and Patty to assist her, and she sat on the deck, resting on her forehead on her flexed knees. After a moment, she said, “I think I’d better sit up on one of the seats. I need to see the horizon or I’m going to be seasick again.”

When they got her situated, Aaron looked at his watch. “What’s the matter with your boat, Patty?”

“It’s got to be a plugged fuel filter. I thought I had one in the cabin, but I don’t. I was in looking for it when I heard Cassie yell.” Patty shuddered. “If I hadn’t heard her, I hate to think what would have happened.”

“I can’t tow you in,” Aaron said. “I’ve got to be in Seattle by four. You got someone you can call?”

“I can call my dad. He can come get me in the skiff and tow me home.”

“All right. Do that. I won’t leave until I know he’s on his way.”

As Patty disappeared into the cabin, Cassie forgot her queasiness as an idea popped into her head. “You’re going to Seattle?”

Aaron nodded.

“Can I go with you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have time for you to go back and change. I’m going to be late as it is.”

“I don’t care. I’ll go like this. I’ve got to get to Seattle.”

“I’m not coming back tonight.”

“Me, neither. I’ve got an appointment tomorrow at one-thirty that I’ve just got to keep. If the ferry doesn’t come back into service, I’m dead in the water . . . which is an unfortunate expression for me to use right now, isn’t it? Please, Aaron. Let me go with you.” Cassie didn’t add that she didn’t feel completely safe alone with Patty. The story about the davit may have convinced Aaron, but she couldn’t forget that image of Luke arguing with Patty and Patty shaking her head again and again.

“Please, Aaron,” she begged. “I’ve just got to make that appointment.”

He sighed. “All right. Climb aboard.”

Patty emerged just then. “Dad’s on his way. What’s happening?”

“Cassie needs to go to Seattle. She’s going to ride with me.”

In the safety of Red Swan’s back deck, Cassie remembered her manners and thanked Patty for taking her to Cedar Cove. “I’ll see you when I get back,” she promised.

Patty handed Cassie’s things to Aaron and watched from her drifting boat as he cast off and the Red Swan pulled away.

The faint diesel smell in the cabin, the regular pulse of the engine, the rise and fall of the bow were all familiar and welcome to Cassie, and she stood for a moment beside the captain’s station, savoring it all.

“How’s your head?” Aaron asked.

Cassie touched the tender place about two inches above her barrette with the tips of her fingers. “It hurts. I could use some aspirin or something.”

“Hold the wheel.”

While Cassie kept the boat on course, Aaron opened a galley cupboard and took out a plastic bottle. He emptied two capsules into his palm, gave them to Cassie, and got her a cup of water.

“Better get that last pair of sweats out of the cupboard,” Aaron suggested, taking over the wheel again. “You know the drill.”

“Does that include a shower?”

He laughed. “If you like.”

Cassie got the clothes and a towel from the cupboard. As she passed Aaron, he handed her a plastic bag. “For the wet clothes.”

Twenty minutes later, she was seated on the high jump seat beside him. They rode in easy silence, enjoying the sights: four seagulls lined up on a drifting log, a tall heron standing on the shore, a sailboat that looked like a pirate ship, sea lions churning up the sea as they played off a rocky point, an eagle roosting on the limb of an old snag. 

It was Cassie who finally broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do,” she said. “Where will you tie up? Will I be able to call a taxi from there?”

“You won’t need a taxi. The dock is right by downtown Seattle, just blocks from restaurants, shops, you name it.”

“Hotels, too?”

“Yes. Though you can stay on the Swan. I’ll be over on the fire boat. I work a twenty-four hour shift.”

“So, you’ll be here until after my appointment tomorrow? I can come back with you?”

Aaron nodded.

Cassie smiled. “You are such good luck for me, Aaron!”

As Aaron returned the smile, his face creased into those familiar rectangular lines, and Cassie didn’t see how she could have thought the smile was like Chan’s. Maybe it was because of Aaron’s scar, or because it didn’t come so easy for him, or maybe it was because she couldn’t remember Chan’s smile so clearly. She was frowning at the thought when Aaron claimed her attention.

“Hold on,” he said. “You don’t want to miss this.”

“What?”

They were just coming around the edge of a point, and suddenly the city of Seattle came into view.

“Oh, my!” breathed Cassie. “It’s even more beautiful from the sea.”

A huge tanker was plowing across the Sound, away from the piers.

“Wow, that’s a big ship! Do you ever worry about colliding with something like that?”

“No. There’s no danger of that. You can always stop or turn around. We’re heading over there.” He pointed to a busy waterfront.

Cassie watched with wonder as Aaron steered through a maze of docks and piers, packed with boats of all sizes and uses. Cruising between pilings that supported structures high overhead, they came to a short dock tucked back under the street. Aaron pulled up to an empty place on the end and went outside to tie up. Then he came back in and switched the batteries. “She’ll be on shore power,” he said. “That means that you can use the lights, and you’ll have plenty of hot water. There’s a small electric furnace that will keep away the chill, too. If you want to go uptown, go out along that dock and keep turning left. That will bring you to a set of stairs that goes up to the city.”

“Where will you be?”

Aaron pointed. “Over there, in that brick building, the one with the flagpole on top. I’ll meet you here at four tomorrow.” He set the keys on the cupboard. “If you leave, lock the door.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Cassie saluted and watched him leave.

Feeling suddenly very alone, she said aloud, “Well, Cassie, my girl, you can either cower here, or you can get out among ’em.” She put on her still-damp shoes without socks, and mindful that she presented an odd appearance in her baggy sweats, she shouldered her purse and locked the door behind her. Stepping over the gunwale, she walked to the end of the dock and followed Aaron’s directions to the foot of a tall flight of stairs. She looked up and muttered, “Every journey begins with the first step.” As she began to climb, she added, “et cetera, et cetera, et cetera,” with each ascending step until, breathing heavily, she finally stood at street level.

The city certainly didn’t look very beautiful right there. In fact, it was downright seedy. But, crossing the street, she headed uphill, thinking she would certainly come to some sort of commercial district.

A pair of policewomen came through on bicycles, and Cassie hailed them. “I need to find a store where I can buy some clothes,” she said.

“The Salvation Army thrift store is about eight blocks that way,” one of them said, pointing.

“Are there any department stores? Macy’s? Mervyn’s? I was on a boat and fell overboard,” she said, suddenly wondering why she felt a need to explain.

“Four blocks up, three blocks over, there’s a mall. Then there’s a Nordstrom on the next block. You should find what you need.”

“Thanks,” Cassie said.

She walked the seven blocks and bought two outfits from the skin out, including shoes. She wore one and carried the other, along with Aaron’s sweats, in a shopping bag. The second outfit was for her appointment with Mr. Hubbard of the Border Patrol. Remembering the soggy fleece, she decided she had better have a jacket as well. Then she found a drugstore and bought makeup and a toothbrush. With everything in two shopping bags, she stopped at the food court and had some Thai food. Her last stop was a magazine stand, where she bought a map of Seattle, a book of crossword puzzles, and a newspaper. When she finally emerged from the mall, she saw that the sun had already slipped below the horizon. Mindful of the seedy waterfront section she had to pass through, she quickened her pace as she retraced her steps. The further down the hill she went, the fewer people she met. Three young men standing under a streetlight watched her in concert, but she anchored her purse under her arm and kept walking with her eyes on the ground. She passed a shabbily dressed old man shambling up the hill and a fierce-looking young man with a wispy beard and dreadlocks who sat in the shadow of a doorway, talking to himself in an angry tone of voice.

At last she reached the stairs. She flew down them, turning right and then right and then right again until she came to the Red Swan, bobbing gently at her mooring.

The cabin was still cozy from residual engine heat, and Cassie set her shopping bags and purse down on the counter. Fumbling for the light switch, she finally managed to find the one over the sink. After that, she found three more and felt quite at home in the brightly lit cabin. She heated water for a cup of cocoa on the alcohol stove and sat at the counter reading the newspaper while she drank it. Then she washed her cup and took her crossword puzzles forward to lie down on the bunk. She turned on an overhead light and noticed a radio in a little cubby. Searching around the stations, she came upon A Prairie Home Companion and put her puzzle aside to listen, chuckling at the Guy Noir skit and the vignette presented by the National Ketchup Advisory.

When the program was over, she left the radio on and began working her crossword puzzle, but her attention was drawn to the mention of the Phoenix police on the news. She listened, riveted by the scanty information passed along: two Phoenix police officers were down in a standoff with a man who had killed his wife in a grocery store parking lot and then fled to his home, where he was barricaded with a small arsenal.

Cassie dropped her book, rushed in to where her purse was sitting, and dug with trembling hands for her cell phone. She had to say Ben’s number aloud to focus her frantic mind while she punched the buttons and waited for the signal to bounce clear to Arizona. “Come on, Ben, pick up,” she urged, but instead, a mechanical voice came on announcing that this cell phone user was not receiving at this time.

Knowing it wasn’t any use to try Punky, she looked up Bishop Harris’s phone number and tried that. There was no answer, just prolonged ringing. Next she dialed information and got the number of the Phoenix police department, but when she got through, the officer wouldn’t give her any information. They would release the names to the press after the next of kin had been notified, he said in an impersonal voice.

“Just tell me,” Cassie begged. “Was one of them Ben Torres?”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

Cassie pushed the disconnect button and fumed. Trying to remember Ben’s mother’s name, she called information and asked for a Mrs. Torres on Eucalyptus Street.

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you know how many people there are in Metropolitan Phoenix with that last name?”

“But she’s on Eucalyptus Street. That should narrow it down.”

“Yes. To about thirty. I cannot give you a number without more specific information.”

Cassie hit the red button again and threw the cell phone back in her purse. “This thing is giving me a headache,” she muttered, and rummaged in the galley cupboard for Aaron’s bottle of pills.

After downing the capsules, she dug her toothbrush out of the shopping bag but then remembered the parcel with her new pantsuit in it. She hung her clothes up so they wouldn’t be wrinkled when she went to the Border Patrol to see Mr. Hubbard. After brushing her teeth and changing back into Aaron’s sweats, she set the dead bolt on the cabin door, turned out the lights, and went forward to the berth.

After saying her prayers, she crawled into the bunk and lay there in the dark, sick with worry and her head still throbbing. It didn’t help when she reminded herself that there were hundreds of police officers in Phoenix and that Ben was a detective and not likely to be involved in such an incident. But she couldn’t bear the thought of little Ricky being left alone or what it would be like to lose Ben as a friend. Her mind went to her appointment with Mr. Hubbard, wondering what he might be able to tell her about Chan and his work. And then she worried about being alone on a boat in a seedy part of town. Her mind was racing, and it didn’t seem possible that she would ever be able to sleep. But in time, weariness overcame her, and she dozed off.