JAVI SWITCHED HIS focus from the fire to Irish. She hadn’t phrased her words as a question. She was making a statement.
“Don’t give up on me now,” he told her.
“Do you really believe there’s a chance we can save them?”
He hesitated. The odds weren’t in their favor.
But he couldn’t sit back and allow low-life druggie perps to destroy Spree and two young women. Not while he could still breathe. So okay. Maybe Dr. Moondrift was right about his need to control the world.
But after Berto’s murder, he’d dedicated his life to bringing criminals to justice. If ever a situation fit that model, this did.
“There’s always a chance,” he insisted.
She closed her eyes. “I want to believe that.”
“Then do. Hope is a good thing.”
She sighed and stared into the fire. “I keep wondering what I could have done differently.”
“What? You’re not blaming yourself for what happened?”
“How can I not?”
“You weren’t even on Spree.”
“Exactly. They used the ladder I left down to climb aboard, didn’t they?”
“Come on, Irish. It’s standard practice to leave a ladder down when anyone is in the water. You know I insisted on that in the safety briefing.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m the one who did it, though.”
He picked up a rock from the floor and tossed toward the fire. “If you want to blame someone, blame me. I was on the boat and let it happen.”
She looked at him, her eyes reflecting the light from the fire. “What did occur? I never asked. I saw you three motor back from the island while I was in the water.”
“I’d gone to my cabin to give your friends some privacy when I heard male voices. There was no doubt about their intent. They claimed they’d kill one of the women. My assessment remains the only way to help them was for me to disappear and stay alive.”
She nodded. “I guess you did the right thing.”
“Gee, thanks for that resounding vote of confidence.”
“You’re welcome.” She interlocked her fingers and placed them on her knees. “I’m sorry I called you a coward.”
“Forget it.” How could he blame her? His actions looked precisely like a captain deserting a sinking ship. He’d hated leaving the women at the mercy of the pirates, but sometimes the job called for hard decisions.
“But I can’t forget it,” she said. “Not since you told me about the bank robbery.”
“That was different.”
She remained silent a moment and then said, “I was in a store once during a robbery and didn’t do anything to stop the shooting.”
Javi stared at her. She’d been through a shooting? “You’re a civilian. You shouldn’t do anything.”
“I knew the kid, though. I should have done something, but instead hid behind the potato chip rack.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
Javi cursed and tossed another rock. So they both had their demons to contend with.
“You were a kid yourself. You did the right thing.”
“Maybe. I wish I could stop thinking about Joan and Debbie, wondering what they’re going through.”
“I know,” he said softly, understanding that kind of thinking all too well.
Outside, the wind had strengthened and something crashed into the north side of the structure. Cat jumped at the sound, but sighed and relaxed. An errant gust found its way inside, causing the fire to flicker.
The storm would soon be on them.
Would Spree’s anchor hold? If it dragged, would the pirates know what to do? Would the weather force them to move Spree before he had time to put his plan into action?
“Did you really sail all over the world with your parents?” Irish asked.
“Yeah. We circumnavigated twice.”
“I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up on a sailboat,” she said.
“For me it was...normal. But remember, I didn’t have any other life to compare it to.”
“So your parents never worked?”
“Oh, they worked in every port, but they never held a job for long. My dad can fix anything so could always get work in a marina. My mom is a great cook, but would take any sort of menial labor if we needed money. Usually to pay for repairs when something broke on Ganesh.”
“Was it ever scary? Like when you were out in bad weather where you thought the boat would sink?”
“Oh, yeah.” Remembering a particularly nasty typhoon named Suri in the Indian Ocean, Javi threw another pebble toward the fire. When the mast had snapped, even his dad had been worried. They’d been forced to remain in dry dock for months.
“Especially before the arrival of the internet and reliable weather reports,” he continued. “And before GPS we had to use celestial navigation for long crossings. It’s easier now with all the technology. But you still have to know how to handle a boat.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“It was definitely that,” Javi agreed. “When you live on the water, life is simpler. You’re constantly battling the elements, and you learn what’s important. It’s an education you can’t get any other way.”
She nodded. “That’s the way I felt when we were crossing the Gulf Stream. When you have to focus on keeping the boat upright to stay alive, everything else becomes trivial.”
“Exactly.” Javi gathered more stones. He should have known Irish would understand, but once again she’d surprised him.
“What are you doing with those rocks?” she asked.
“I’m trying to clear a smooth space so we can lie down.”
“Oh.” She placed her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “Good idea, but I won’t be able to sleep.”
He smiled, believing she’d go out as soon as she stretched out. “But you can rest.”
“So why did you leave that life?” she asked. “I mean, why don’t you live on a boat now if it was so idyllic?”
“I never said it was idyllic,” he said.
“But you obviously loved it.”
Javi halted a toss midthrow and jumped to his feet. How did they get on the subject of life aboard Ganesh? He walked to an opening where a window had once been and looked out. Nothing to see but darkness. The smell of the storm was stronger. A gust flung sand against his face, so he stepped back.
“Things changed,” he said.
“What changed?”
He faced her again. She was persistent. “I decided to go into law enforcement.” And that was the truth.
She squinted up at him. “You don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Why?”
“Maybe I’d rather talk about you.”
“Because that’s such a fascinating subject,” she said.
“I think so.”
“You do?”
He couldn’t see her face clearly, but suspected her cheeks had flushed a healthy pink.
“I know nothing about you except you survived a shooting and grow orchids. A family business, you said?”
“Yes. My grandparents started Green Gully Orchids in Homestead, Florida, which is famous in orchid circles, believe it or not.”
“Were you born in Homestead?”
“Yes, although I have traveled some. With my mom and dad, just like you, but on an airplane to orchid shows all over the world.”
“Are orchids hard to grow?”
He could feel her eyes on him across the dark room. “We are so not going to discuss the cultivation of orchids right now.”
“It’s better than thinking about Joan and Debbie.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, her voice resigned. “Anything is better than that.”
He moved back to her side and joined her on the ground again. He hadn’t liked the distance between them.
“So let’s talk about your plan to put Spree out of commission,” she said. “Is there any way we could disable the sails so the pirates can’t sail away?”
“Maybe,” Javi said, staring into the flames. Once again she’d surprised him. “We could cut the lines, but that means getting on and off the boat without being detected. Possible, but a lot more dangerous.”
“I think the whole idea sounds dangerous.”
“I’m willing to entertain any other options.”
She sighed. “I wish I had one to offer.”
A log on the fire shifted, sending sparks into the air as it collapsed into the bed of embers. He remained silent, listening to the steady flicker of the flames. Irish was deep in her own thoughts, maybe trying to plot another way out of this disaster. He wouldn’t mind if she amazed him one more time and came up with a better solution than his own.
More likely she was obsessing about her friends in captivity. He was worried about them, too, but focused his mental energy elsewhere.
“So let’s assume we fix Spree so she can’t move,” she said. “The point of that is you believe the pirates will abandon ship, leave Joan and Debbie and come ashore.”
“What else can they do?” Thunder rolled in the distance, and Cat tensed.
“They could use Spree’s dinghy and motor to another island.”
“I have no intention of leaving the dinghy for them.”
“We’re going to take the dinghy?”
“Yes. I’ll hide it in the mangroves for us to use later, if necessary.”
“Then how will they get ashore?”
“The same way we did.”
“Swim,” she said.
“They’ll attempt to bring their stolen goods with them. If we’re lucky, at least one of them will drown from the weight.”
She remained quiet, obviously mulling over the new details of his plan. Trying to poke holes in his thinking. He was getting used to her refusing to immediately accept everything he proposed.
“What if we left the dinghy on the beach in plain sight?” she said.
He hesitated. “As bait, you mean?”
“Yeah, incentive to lure them ashore.”
“Sight of the dinghy would be hard for them to resist,” Javi said, intrigued by the suggestion. “It might work.”
“I just want to pull them away from Joan and Debbie.”
Javi gave himself time to think it through. “The only downside would be if they got control of the dinghy.”
“That won’t happen if you surprise them on the beach.”
“I prefer a surprise attack in the mangroves,” he said. “There’s two of them and they have guns.”
“How can their guns work if they swim?”
“Most likely they have dry bags.”
“God, I hate how you have an answer for everything.”
Javi remained silent. He’d started to come back with he hated how she questioned his every plan, but truthfully having her to kick things around with wasn’t such a bad thing. What did it hurt to look at things in a new light?
She ran her hand along the sand, found a rock and tossed it toward the fire. “What if the pirates kill Joan and Debbie before they leave Spree?”
“Why would they?”
“I don’t know,” she said, frustration making her voice rise. “Why do evil people do anything?”
“Greed,” Javi said. “Revenge sometimes, but usually greed.”
“Greed.” She nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for greed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s why Brad left Debbie,” Irish said. “For a new rich wife. We came on this holiday to cheer her up.”
“Oh,” Javi said, remembering the talk among the women about someone’s cheating ex. “Maybe. I have to think Debbie would be hard to live with, though.”
Irish shot him an outraged look, eyes narrowed. “Hey, she doesn’t deserve to die because she can be bitchy.”
“Sorry,” he said, holding up a hand. “Bad choice of words.”
She settled her head against the wall again, arms drawing her knees protectively to her chest. “I know what you mean, though. I’ve been feeling guilty about how irritated I’ve been with her on this trip. Deb’s usually not so...difficult. I don’t want to remember her being a big...pain.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and Javi’s gut clenched. Irish was about to start sobbing, something she thankfully hadn’t done yet. So far, she’d remained strong, but she had to be close to despair. He hated that idea.
“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice sharper than he’d intended.
“I’m not crying.” She placed her forehead on her bended knees in an attempt to hide the fact that she was doing exactly that.
“You can’t fall apart on me now, Irish.” He’d gone for a softer tone, but instead his words came out pleading. He swallowed and tried again. “I need you to stay focused,” he said as another peal of thunder sounded.
She raised her head and placed her chin on her knees. The firelight reflected off her damp cheeks, and he silently cursed. He had to come up with something comforting, but what?
“I just hate—” she took a deep, shaky breath “—that Deb’s last days were so unhappy.”
“Hey.” Javi placed an arm around Irish and pulled her head to his shoulder. “Don’t think that way. These weren’t—aren’t—her last days.”
* * *
CAT CLOSED HER eyes and forced herself to take deep inhalations. Javi was right. She needed to get her emotions under control. Crying never solved anyone’s problems.
She wanted nothing more than to believe what Javi was telling her. But how could she?
His bumbling attempt to comfort her was a small thing, but the fact that he even tried meant a lot. A whole lot. Thinking back to her first day on Spree, she could never imagine sitting beside Captain Bligh as he hugged her, stroking her arm in solace.
“If our plan succeeds,” he said, “you and Deb will have the opportunity to make a lot more memories. Good ones.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a big if,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“I’m doing my best here, Cat.”
His calm voice fell over her like a warm blanket, soothing her frazzled nerves. But also creating a twinge of guilt.
“I know,” she whispered. “And I’m not helping, am I?”
“You’re doing great.” He lightly kissed her hair, and rested his head on hers. That simple gesture brought tears to her eyes again. She blinked them away. Javi needed her to behave like an adult. He needed her help. She couldn’t hide behind the potato chips again.
But she didn’t move, wanting to absorb Javi’s strength, his warmth, for a little while longer. Strange how she should feel that his arms offered her shelter.
Any port in a storm?
Was that it? Would any other human being make her feel safe? No. If the situation were different—say, if she were stranded on this island with Joan or Debbie—their presence wouldn’t reassure her the way Javi’s did. Her own father certainly wouldn’t provide much comfort.
Fictional superheroes aside, she couldn’t think of any other man who had a chance of getting them out of this horrific, scary predicament safely. Not without a working gun.
“You should try to sleep,” he said. They sat so close she felt the rumble of his voice deep in his chest.
“Not yet,” she said. “Soon.”
Another log on the fire shifted and sent sparks toward the ceiling again, making her aware that the flames had diminished. She ought to get up and add wood. That was something she could actually do.
Before she could offer, Javi got to his feet. He stoked their fire, adding fuel, making the flames rise again. She felt out of time, like they were ancient cave dwellers tending the hearth. Like he was her man and she was his woman.
When he was satisfied with his efforts, he faced her again, smiling. He opened his mouth to speak when a flash of lightning illuminated surprise on his chiseled face. A huge crack of thunder followed immediately, and she shrieked her surprise.
She was laughing at herself by the time he rejoined her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just startled. I didn’t mean to scream.” She shook her head. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“Believe it or not, I came on this trip because I wanted an adventure.”
“Yeah? Well, I guess you got one.”
She jumped at another streak of light, which was quickly followed by a booming peal of thunder.
Cat edged closer to Javi. “The storm must be right on top of us,” she said, tucking her arm inside his. She was seriously considering climbing into his lap.
He put his arm around her shoulders, gathering her close. The rain tattooed against the sides of the structure. The wind shifted, strengthened, and rain blew through the window opening, bringing smoke from their fire into their faces.
Cat coughed. Mist cooled her face, and within seconds her T-shirt was damp again. Great. She had hoped to peel off this ridiculously tight bathing suit so she might actually get comfortable and be able to catch some sleep before their trip back to Spree. Its design wasn’t a true thong, but high enough. And sand had worked its way inside the fabric and chafed against her sensitive skin with every movement.
But now her shirt was wet again.
Javi jumped to his feet and reached an arm to her. “Let’s move.”
They relocated to a wall out of the wind, but the ground was cold beneath her, ditto the wall behind her. Plus, they were now farther away from the fire and the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. The wind and rain worked against Javi’s efforts to keep the flames roaring. If the storm lasted much longer, their fire would likely go out.
“I’d hate to be outside in this mess,” she murmured.
“We’d be soaked and miserable,” he agreed.
The rain drummed steadily on the roof. “I used to love to listen to the sound of rain while safe and dry inside.”
“Me, too,” Javi said.
She smiled at him. Neither one of them needed to voice the obvious, that right now they didn’t feel safe. Or dry.
“Thanks for making me move to shelter.”
“You’re welcome.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you get tired of always being right?”
“It can be a burden at times,” he said, his voice teasing.
She lightly punched his arm.
“Violence, Irish?” He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.
She shivered when he kissed her open palm.
“Chilled?” he asked softly.
“No. Yes. Maybe.”
“That’s very helpful.”
She smiled and leaned against the wall. If only she’d met Javi under different circumstances.
“Will Spree be okay in this weather?” she asked. “Seems like the mast would be a perfect target for lightning to hit.”
“Spree is grounded through the keel. We’re probably in more danger here.” He looked up. “I doubt if there’s a lightning rod.”
“Great. Something else to worry about.”
Another flash of light lit up his face, and she could see unease in the set of his jaw.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded after the thunder quieted.
He glanced at her, and she knew he was deciding how much to tell her. Maybe she’d shed a few tears, but she refused to let him treat her like a child.
“Come on, Javi,” she said. “I need to know the truth.”
“The storm might ruin our plan.”
She raised her brows. “How could anything go wrong with that foolproof plan? Explain.”
“Because of the weather, I’m worried Spree’s anchor could drag.”
Cat pictured the anchorage, the direction the boat would drift if the anchor broke free.
“Spree would run aground,” she said. “Considering the direction of the wind, probably on those rocks we avoided on the way in.”
Javi nodded.
“But that sounds good to me,” she said. “Isn’t that basically what we want, to impair Spree so they can’t leave? I know it would damage the hull, but—”
“But the pirates might take action to prevent that from happening.”
“Like what? Oh, shit. You mean they might have left before the storm hit?”
“Maybe.”
“So Spree could already be gone.”
He shrugged. “We’ll go check as soon as the rain stops.”
“You said it wouldn’t be safe for them to leave at night.”
“It’s not, but crashing onto rocks isn’t safe, either. I’m sure the pirates know that much. They managed to get to this anchorage.”
She nodded. And if Spree had left, that was the end of Joan and Debbie. No question Javi was right about that.
If they weren’t already dead. Cat pushed away that thought.
“What would you do if you were aboard when the storm hit?”
“I’d planned to set a second anchor as insurance. Another strategy is to use the engine to take some of the pull off where the anchor is dug in.”
Cat nodded. Opposing forces counteracting each other would hold Spree in place. She could see how that would work during the height of the storm.
She jumped at another flash of lightning. Like right now. What was happening aboard Spree?
“And if they know to do that, they might decide to leave the area as a precaution,” Javi continued. “Especially if they’re familiar with these waters and know where to go.”
Javi rose and tossed the last of the wood onto the dying flames. The fire greedily ate at the new fuel. No point in gathering more since anything outside would now be too waterlogged to burn.
When the fire went out, they’d be totally in the dark.
“Matters keep getting worse and worse, don’t they?” she said when he’d rejoined her.
“We’re still alive,” he said. “And we’re going to stay that way.”
“You sound like a cheerleader.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, something that was getting easy to do. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
A gust entered the structure, flickering the flames, blowing hair off her face. Javi draped an arm around her.
“I’m dying to know if Spree is still here,” Cat said.
“Do you want me to hike back and check now? It would be one less thing for you to worry about.”
Surprised, she raised her head, and found him gazing steadily at her, waiting for an answer. He was serious.
“You’d do that just to ease my mind?”
“There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, Irish,” he said softly. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”