Tangled Lies (30 page)

Jesse hadn’t thought his ribs could hurt more than they already did, but he was wrong. It was getting harder and harder to draw breath, and he wondered if the jump from the boat had punctured a lung. Thank God for the life jacket. It was a fisherman’s vest, not one of those orange horse collars, so he turned on his back and floated. His brain still seemed fuzzy, so he had to work to focus. Was the tide going in or out?

In.
Thank you, Jesus.
It would push him to shore, as long as there weren’t any odd currents that caught him. Or rocks.

Worry for Sasha gnawed at him and he fought the urge to close his eyes and sleep. No. He had to stay awake, get to shore, find Sasha.

Jesse opened his eyes and glanced around at the dark water, the dark sky; he was disoriented. Something slammed his head, and he realized he’d drifted into some rocks. Sasha, he had to find Sasha. He forced himself to turn over, and his feet touched bottom. He scrambled for a handhold on the nearest rock and pulled himself up out of the water.

He sat there a few minutes, still unable to draw a deep breath, and tried to climb over the rocks to shore. It wasn’t that far, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move.

“Hey, you there, on the rocks. Are you OK?”

A flashlight shone in his face, and he put up a hand to block it. The voice came closer. “Well, dang, son, you’re a bloody mess.” A hand appeared, as rough as the male voice that went with it. “Let me help you.”

Jesse wondered briefly if this was a trick of some sort, but then decided it didn’t matter. He couldn’t fight back right now no matter what. He let the man pull him to his feet and half drag, half carry him to the sandy shore.

They walked a couple dozen feet across the sand, and the man said, “Hang on and let me get my truck. You need a doctor.”

Jesse collapsed the moment the man let go and sank onto the sand. The man helped him into the truck, and that was the last thing he remembered.

Sasha woke on the couch with Pop shaking her awake. “Sasha. Wake up. The hospital called. They have Jesse.”

Thank you, Jesus.
He was alive. Her breath whooshed out in a big sigh. She sat up and winced at the pain in her cheek. “You knocked me out with your elbow.”

Pop raised his chin. “Not on purpose. But I had to keep you safe.”

Sasha wanted to argue, but now wasn’t the time.

“Is Jesse OK? How did he get to the hospital?”

“Shirley’s an ER nurse, and she said some old guy brought him in, saying Jesse washed up behind his house and just kept telling him to take him to Safe Harbor.”

Sasha forced her aching body up to a standing position. “I need to get there, to see him, find out what’s going on.”

Pop put a hand under her elbow and led her out to his truck. “That’s where we’re headed.”

Sasha never cried; she wouldn’t let herself. Her Russian papa had always told her tears solved nothing; only action helped. But unbidden tears rolled down her cheeks when she walked into the ER cubicle and saw Jesse’s battered face. Both eyes were black and blue, and he had bruises everywhere. She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. When his eyes opened, they were red and bloodshot, but Sasha had never seen a more welcome sight.

“You’re OK,” he whispered, and pulled her close. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“That’s my line.” Sasha swallowed hard and pulled back to look at him.
Thank you, Lord.

He studied her face, then brought his thumbs up and wiped her tears away. “You’re crying. You never cry.”

“I thought I lost you, too.” She tucked her cheek into his palm, then raised her head and met his gaze. “What happened, Jesse?”

“You first,” he said. “Do you know who kidnapped you? I found the barn.”

“No, I never saw their faces. But I think it was the same guys who tried to put an arrow through me. I think I saw the sub in the barn.”

“I think you’re right. I also think whatever they were trying to do isn’t over yet.” He pushed back the covers, winced, and started climbing out of bed. “We need to get to the marina.”

She put a hand on his arm. “Jesse, no, this is crazy. You need to stay here and get your strength back.”

He reached for his shirt, realized they must have cut it off him, and leaned down right in her face. “They tried to blow up my boat today, with you in it. But I don’t think they were gunning for you. I think they were after me.”

“But we still don’t know why.”

“I have a theory. Let’s go.”

Sal shot up from his chair in the waiting room. “Jesse, are you sure you should be up and around?”

“Just get us home, Sal. OK?”

Sal said nothing, just nodded and led the way to the truck. Sasha tried to figure out what was going on, but the last couple days were catching up to her.

Once they were back at the marina, Jesse said, “Walk down to the dock with me?”

Sal gave a knowing smile. “Good night. I’m heading for bed.”

Sasha kissed his cheek. “Kiss Mama for me.”

Sal turned and looked at Jesse, his expression pained. “Be careful. You put things in motion that may try to take you down with them.”

Sasha waited until they were alone before she said, “What gives, Jesse? What did Pop mean?”

“Do you trust Nick?” he asked instead.

“I do. He gave me a ride today so I would make the race.”

He held out his phone. “Then call him and ask him to take a drive down here, quietly, without telling anyone.”

Sasha did as he asked, then turned to him. “Are you planning to tell me what you’re thinking?”

“Let’s just watch for a while.”

Barely ten minutes later, Nick pulled up, Chief Monroe right behind him. Jesse muttered a curse and stepped back into the shadows of the bait shop. “I thought you asked Stanton to come alone.” His voice came out a harsh whisper.

“I did. You going to tell me what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer, simply shifted farther into the shadows. Chief Monroe sauntered up, Nick behind him. “Evening, Sasha. What’s wrong? Why did you ask my officer to come out here this time of night?”

Sasha glanced at Nick, who shrugged. “The chief and I were going over a case file when you called.”

She met the chief’s gaze. “Jesse suggested I call.”

“He’s in the hospital. That was quite a close call he had today.”

Jesse stepped out of the shadows, and even in the gloom, Sasha saw the chief’s ruddy face pale. “I don’t think whatever happened today is over yet.” He held pairs of binoculars out to each of them. “Humor me, and let’s watch awhile.”

Monroe propped meaty fists on his hips. “I don’t have time for games, Jesse. Just tell me what you’re trying to prove.”

Jesse cocked his head and listened. In the distance, Sasha heard a vehicle approaching. Jesse hitched his thumb over his shoulder, and the four of them stepped out of sight behind the marina building. They didn’t have to wait long.

An ancient pickup pulled into the marina, towing a sport-fishing boat. The driver launched it easily, parked the truck, and hopped aboard the boat, vanishing into the night.

The chief lowered the binoculars and thrust them at Jesse. “Since when is it a crime to launch a boat late at night?”

“Give me half an hour, Chief. If nothing else happens by then, I won’t argue. But I don’t think it’ll take that long.”

They waited. For a while they heard nothing but the lapping of water against the pilings, but then they heard the sounds of a propeller. They looked up and saw a small plane in the distance. It flew closer to shore, then turned in a circle and disappeared the way it had come.

“They dropped something,” Sasha said quietly.

“That’s my guess,” Jesse answered.

Nick and the chief said nothing, just kept scanning with their binoculars.

Ten minutes later, they heard an approaching boat motor, and the same sport fisherman returned. The driver tied up the boat and went to get the trailer. They didn’t move until he had the boat loaded onto the trailer.

Chief Monroe stepped from the shadows and turned on his flashlight, the beam hitting the driver square in the face. “Evening.”

The driver threw his arm up over his eyes, and Sasha sucked in a surprised gasp. “Captain Demetri?”

He lowered his arm and met her eyes, then hopped in the pickup. Nick stepped in front of the truck, gun drawn. “Get out of the vehicle. Now. Hands where we can see them.”

Sasha watched in stunned silence as the chief waved his service revolver at Captain Demetri, telling him to get out of the truck. He slid out slowly, hands in the air, a puzzled grin on his face. “What in the world is going on here, Chief? Since when does a man get arrested for night fishing?”

“Stanton, search the vessel,” the chief barked, and the other man scrambled aboard and started opening cubbies and coolers, searching every square inch.

Tension grew as the minutes ticked by. Captain Demetri’s smile slowly vanished, and he sent pleading glances toward the chief, who ignored him.

Nick held up a nice-sized snook. “This one’s not legal size.”

Captain Demetri barked out a laugh. “All this for a fish? Throw him back then.”

“This one’s not legal size, either,” Nick said, pulling out a package sealed in plastic. He used his knife to slit the bag, and Sasha’s eyes widened as white powder spilled out. Stanton took his pinky and dabbed a bit on his tongue. He nodded to the chief. “Tastes like high-grade cocaine, boss.”

The chief grabbed Demetri by the hand, spun him around, and slapped handcuffs on him amid the other man’s protests. “Demetri Markos, you are under arrest for—”

“What are you doing? You can’t arrest me. This was all Roy’s fault. He planned—”

The chief calmly recited the Miranda warning, ignoring the words pouring out of Demetri’s mouth.

Sasha sank down on the bench, her mind whirling. All of this had been about drugs? Captain Roy? And Captain Demetri? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

She hadn’t seen him move, but Jesse materialized at Demetri’s side. Sasha’s head snapped up when she heard the chief say, “Let him be, Jesse, or I’ll arrest you, too.”

Jesse landed a hard jab in the man’s midsection, and she flinched.

“You almost killed Sasha, you selfish son of a—” He punched Demetri in the nose, and blood spurted.