When Eric dragged Alvirah back down the companionway, and out onto the deck, Bull’s-Eye ripped off his beard and tied it as a makeshift gag around her mouth. Highbridge pulled her hands behind her back and used his Santa cap to secure them. Eric then pushed her down on the floor, against a wall covered with nets and fishing equipment. “I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t be late for the ceremony. The last thing we need is for them to start looking for me. Take good care of her,” he snarled. “She’s too nosy for her own good. And on top of that, she’s the reason we had to move out of my room.”
He’s such a coward, Alvirah thought contemptuously as she watched him go. He doesn’t want to kill me. He’s leaving it to them.
Bull’s-Eye trained his gun on her. “If you’re so nosy, tell me what that two-bit punk Crater is doing on the ship. He’s here for a reason, and it has nothing to do with him being a do-gooder,” Bull’s-Eye spat. “He ratted on my father. What’s he planning now?”
“I wish I knew,” Alvirah answered.
“I’ll give you a minute to think about it before I whack you.”
The sound of an approaching helicopter startled all three of them.
“That could be the cops.” Highbridge’s voice was panicked. He and Bull’s-Eye shifted into high gear. As they threw the dinghy off the back of the ship Alvirah frantically began to twist her hands. She felt some kind of hook or sharp metal poking into her right side. Turning her body slightly, she moved just enough so that her bound hands were covering it. If I can just get a tear in the cap, she thought anxiously, it’s thin, cheap material. The one bell at the end of the cap tinkled faintly, but Bull’s-Eye and Highbridge were too distracted to hear it.
Bull’s-Eye dropped a briefcase into a duffel bag and re-knotted the bag tightly.
Trying to remain calm, Alvirah moved the cap back and forth over the metal until she made a hole in it. Thinking back to her cleaning days when she used to tear up old towels into rags, she was finally able to shred the cap and free her hands.
Alvirah eyed the low railing on the side of the ship. I can do it, she thought. I have to do it. I’m not ready to leave Willy on his own yet. He needs me. Getting up off the floor is the big problem. It takes me so long I may not get the chance to jump. But I’ve got to give it a try.
Highbridge climbed up and sat on the rail at the stern, facing the water.
Alvirah watched as Bull’s-Eye hoisted the duffel bag onto the railing and Highbridge wrapped his right hand around the top of it. Bull’s-Eye then handed him an oar. “Don’t drop anything. Especially the bag. I’ll be right behind you.”
“I’m not careless when it comes to protecting my money,” Highbridge answered, then pushed himself off the edge. Bull’s-Eye, a gun in his right hand, watched Highbridge’s descent.
Alvirah heard a splash as Highbridge hit the water. Bull’s-Eye’s attention was riveted on the duffel bag as he made sure it arrived safely onto the dinghy.
It’s now or never, Alvirah realized. Hardly feeling the twisting pangs in her knees, she sprang up, raced to the side of the ship, climbed on the rail, and, as a startled Bull’s-Eye turned his head toward her, she held her nose and jumped. Immediately before she hit the water, she heard a bullet whistle past her ear. That was close, she thought, but no bull’s-eye.
Her body completely submerged, she began to swim underwater toward the bow of the ship.