The Girl on the Yacht (27 page)

John walked along the corridor balancing the carafe and mugs. He entered the computer room and set them on the desk.

“If you need milk or sugar, you’ll have to go get it.”

“Whatever’s good.” Cameron’s eyes never strayed from the monitors. “This is mind-numbing
––
staring into the black beyond the lights and hoping you never see anything coming at you.”

From the far left corner of one of the screens, something appeared and disappeared in an instant.

Cameron jumped to her feet and reached for her gun. “Did you see that?”

“I thought I saw something. What’d you see?”

They both stared at the monitors.

“I think it was a fin,” Cameron said.

“You mean like on the top of a fish––a dorsal fin?”

“No, it was flat––like a diver’s flipper.” She picked up her radio, keyed the mike, and spoke softly. “Stay alert––check the water. We saw something on the monitor. Keep the radio channel open unless you see something. Click once if received.”

The radio emitted the single clicks of microphones being keyed across the marina to acknowledge her order.

The most forward underwater camera again picked up a faint ghostlike image dart along the edge of the camera’s range and then out again.

“Looked like a fin—a black fin.” John rewound and played the visual on another monitor.

“There it is––it’s flat and has the outline,” John said.

“It’s moving fast,” Cameron said.

“He could have an underwater scooter.”

Someone on the radio said, “There’s a head surfacing out of the water forty feet to the north of your boat. It’s gone. You want us to go for it.”

“Hold your position––let him get closer––just be ready.”

After overhearing parts of the conversation, Marin appeared in the doorway, groggy, with gun in her hand. “What’s going on?”

“He’s out there,” Cameron said.

Then the bow camera picked up a fleeing mackerel followed by––all five hundred pounds of a California Sea Lion. It chased the incredibly fast and darting fish another few feet and made the kill. All three of them watched in awe of the speed and agility of the massive animal.

“Did you see that?” John shouted. “Unbelievable. I got it saved on my computer––YouTube, tomorrow. He must be attracted by the lights.”

Cameron dropped into her chair and picked up her radio.

“False alarm. We spotted a big sea lion on the monitors. Stay alert—we’re still expecting him to show.”

The radios clicked their response.

“I’m going back to sleep.” Marin seemed halfway there already––physically and mentally.

Cameron picked up her coffee mug. She held it between her hands, sipping it while shifting her vision from monitor to monitor. Every so often, the big animal would enter the scene, in whole or in part.

John felt the presence of the animal was probably good. If there had been a diver in the water around John’s boat, that sea lion would have reacted differently. The continued reappearance of the creature lessened their anxiety, and both of them began to mellow.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” John said.

“What’s it like to be on top of the mountain?”

“Come again?”

“It’s so incredible what you’ve accomplished––a successful business, all the money a person could ever want, a private jet, this yacht. Things you dreamed about when you were a kid––came true. What’s it like?”

“I never got this far in my dreams.” John’s shoulders slumped.

She studied him to see if he was joking.

“My dreams ended at me being a computer geek fixing office computers or doing software installs.”

“Come on. That can’t be all.”

“My dad was the town drunk––despised, looked down on, not trusted––pathetic. When you come from less than nothing, and most of your adolescent life you’re treated by the other kids and parents as nothing. . . .” He paused, “I can’t explain it, but you believe it in your bones. No matter what I do, it’s still there. I guess I’ll always have those feelings.” He waved his hand in the air. “It’s all a fluke in the cosmic universe. I’m not supposed to be here––I’m supposed to be in Podunk, Wisconsin, fixing the tire shop’s broken printer.” He picked up the mug of coffee. “This isn’t real.”

Cameron was speechless.

“Hell,” John chuckled, “my guidance counselor in junior high told me I should be an auto mechanic like my old man. An auto mechanic. I had written on the forms that I liked computers. She didn’t even ask me about computers. Small town America––that’s where hopes and dreams go to die.”

“But you got out––you made it. This is you––it’s all you.”

“I made it for two reasons. I had a passion that nobody could crush, but that wasn’t enough. I had help––from the oddest places. A little librarian saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. She never gave up on me––pushed me, prodded others to give me a chance. A professor in college pulled out something deeper and nourished it––encouraged it and then let it soar on its own. A girlfriend in college who believed in me, told me I was going to do great things with my life. I’m one of those rare lucky people. At any place along the line, the chain could have been broken, and I’d be in Podunk fixing uncle Joe’s ancient HP desktop to run another day.”

“I don’t think so. My computer lab supervisor told me that you’re like the brightest mind in computer security. That wasn’t the people who helped you––that’s
you
.” Cameron nodded her head.

“Don’t believe everything you hear. It’s not real.”

She laughed. “You really have an inferiority complex. Dude, you are
real
. This is
your
yacht. And that girl is sleeping in
your
cabin.” Cameron pointed her cup to the stateroom.

“Let’s hope we live another day.” When he said it, the room seemed to lose some of its oxygen. At that moment, a ray of sunlight entered through the overhead porthole on his right.

Marin stuck her head around the corner. “John, you’ve been up all night––you should try getting some sleep.”

He nodded and headed toward the master stateroom.

The morning sun became visible from under the water when it broke through the cloud layer over the ridge of mountains. The top of Michael’s head gently emerged from the glassy surface. With his mask protruding from the water like a periscope, he did a full 360-degree turn to be certain that no one had been watching for him to resurface near his WaveRunner. With his mission on schedule, and the device firmly attached to the yacht in the marina, he moved slowly and methodically toward shore without disturbing the polished surface or the nesting shore birds in the tall grasses––textbook perfect. A thought crossed his mind––he would have been a great instructor in the SEAL BUDS training––maybe the best ever.

In twelve-feet of water, he slipped off the mask, fins, and rebreather, and dropped them through the murky water to the bottom of the bay.
I won’t need these anymore.
He swam over to the shore behind the wall, scurried on to the craft, hit the start button, and was off in the direction of the main channel away from the marina.

He crossed under the bridge and angled the restrained rocket toward the fuel dock on the opposite bank. When he pulled up, he was just another guy in a wetsuit on a WaveRunner, getting fuel. The gauge had read less than half a tank. He tossed the attendant a line to tie off and told him to fill it up. Michael took a hundred dollar bill from one of the packets in his bag, climbed to the dock, went inside the shop, and took a couple of power bars off the display.

After the attendant finished with the refueling, he went inside with Michael. “Nice WaveRunner, man. Is that the new supercharged one-point-eight engine?”

Michael nodded.

“She must be fast.”

“I think I could get it over seventy––in perfect conditions.”

The young guy nodded his admiration and envy. “That’ll be sixty-two bucks, including the bars.”

Michael tossed the bill on the counter and took his change. Before he climbed back aboard his chariot, he yanked down the top of his wetsuit. With the rubber arms dangling to his sides, he looked like a four-armed creature from the black lagoon getting on his WaveRunner. A single shove from the dock, and he was off in the direction of the marina.
Let’s get this finished
.

I’m going to do it right this time––face-to-face
. When he glided into the small yacht haven, he was surprised by the number of boaters already up and preparing for a morning on the water.

He cut the engine and drifted up to the dock where he tied off. He opened the compartment and removed his gun and phone. He dialed the number. When he was ready, all he needed to do was hit send, and all hell would break loose with the explosion.

“Maybe he left the country.” Cameron swiveled in her chair toward the open door.

“Why would he make the bomb, and then just leave?” Marin leaned against the doorjamb.

“He had to have known we were close. He probably saw us raid the house and took off in that boat. I’ll bet we find it abandoned up the coast somewhere. He’s probably on his way to Mexico.” Cameron tried to believe her own words.

“Maybe.”

Cameron’s radio crackled.

“Investigator West, this is Lieutenant Bradley of the Harbor Patrol.”

“This is West.”

“Can you call me on a phone?”

“Ten, four.” Cameron got up from the desk, picked up her cell, and dialed the Harbor Patrol Office. She made the gesture that she was going up the stairs.

Marin followed.

“I need to make some hot tea,” Marin said.

Cameron nodded while the lieutenant cleared his throat.

“I’ve got to pull off my boat crews and divers from your detail. I’m understaffed, and we have other priorities in the harbor.”

“I understand,” Cameron answered. “Can you leave us with one diver and a pilot––this guy may still show up and plant that bomb.”

“I’ll let you have one boat for the morning, then we’ll reevaluate the threat. Keeping all of my people out there all night has created a real problem for me here. I only have three qualified boat operators for the day. I’ll bring everyone back to the docks to change shifts and then send one of the boats back.”

“I appreciate anything you can do. Maybe we’ll have a line on this guy in the next few hours. I have my people tracking down every lead.” Cameron disconnected and turned toward Marin. “I need to get some air––can you handle it for a few minutes?” Cameron warmed at a thought. “I think I’ll go wake up Mitch across the way.”

“I’ll keep an eye on the monitors downstairs,” Marin said. “Don’t worry––John’s downstairs in the master stateroom if I need help.”

Cameron nodded. “I won’t be far away.” She stretched her arms overhead when she stepped outside on the back deck of
The Hunter
. Her neck cracked while she rotated it in slow arcs. Cameron’s thoughts turned to Mitch, and her eyes drifted toward his quiet boat three slips away. A smile crept across her face, and she bounded off the swim step to the dock. Her phone vibrated.

“Morning, Purdy, what’s up?”

“Boss, I found the boat––it’s up in Huntington Harbor, and––”

“Was he there?” she interrupted.

“He was gone––there was an empty rack on the back, and I called the girl’s father about it. He said he owns a WaveRunner––it should have been there.”

“What’s a WaveRunner?” Cameron asked.

“It’s like a motorcycle on water––handlebars, super fast––this one’s black and blue.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. She had just seen such a rig. It was tied to the dock behind her. Cameron grabbed for her gun and swung around. Her weapon was still in the holster when she saw the massive fist coming at her eyes.

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” Michael said to the unconscious investigator on the dock. He slipped aboard
The Hunter,
and the boat moved against the dock lines. As he ran up the steps at the back, he could hear a dog barking somewhere deep inside the catacombs of cabins. He froze outside the main salon; the guttural growls escalated.

To his disbelief, Marin suddenly opened the door and took a step out on deck. Her eyes widened at the sight of the massive monster before her.

In his left hand, he held a phone. In his right, he swung his pistol. It glanced off her left temple, and she went down.

“You and me have a date with destiny.” He held out the phone and hit the dial icon. It sent the electronic signal across the airwaves in its search for the phone trigger on the bomb. It connected.

Bailey was in a vicious bark mode while John chased her up the stairs. He watched the beagle charge at the huge man holding the gun. Marin was down on a knee as Michael White’s left leg became the target of Bailey’s focus. When the killer leveled the gun at Marin, the fangs pierced deep.

John charged out of the dark salon. His broad shoulders hit Michael’s upper torso at full speed. At the same instant, he heard two, almost simultaneous, gunshots pierce the air. He kept driving like a professional linebacker until he and the huge man with the eagle tattoo went over the railing. It all happened fast. Still in mid-fall from the higher deck, a tremendous explosion erupted from somewhere across the marina. On almost the same tick of the second hand, they crashed into the lower cockpit floor with a heavy thud of bone-cracking force. John landed on top, and then rolled on to the deck.

John realized that the bomb on a boat near the beginning of the dock was meant as a diversion to keep the police occupied and away from the killer. The brilliant light, accompanied by smoke and debris, filled John’s senses with overload. Dazed, sprawled out on his back, John gazed up to see the killer on his feet in full flight.

Michael had a gun in his right hand when he leapt over the railing from the cockpit to the dock. Upon landing, the killer grabbed on to his right leg and semi-sprinted to a WaveRunner tied to the dock a few feet away. Still shaken, John got on to his feet to see the powerful watercraft shoot away from the dock.

“Marin,” John shouted, while flying up the stairs.

Her head was facing down, with blood dripping from her right temple.

His heart stopped. Before he reached her, she lifted her head and shook it off. Adrenaline kicked in. Marin put her hands under her and jumped to her feet. She raced over to the railing to watch the former SEAL retreating into the back bay.

John, stunned and breathless, froze where he stood.

“That killer’s not getting away.” Marin scanned the dock and saw Cameron sprawled on the dock.

“Cameron,” she yelled and started down the stairs.

At that moment, Mitch came out of his boat’s cabin and saw the same scene. The doctor darted from his swim step and arrived a millisecond before Marin.

Crouched over the unconscious Cameron, he examined her and announced to the hovering friends, “There’s a strong pulse––go get that guy!”

John looked up and saw Nate Fowler onboard his Donzi staring out at the charred remnants of what was once a yacht on F-dock.

“Nate, get your boat started,” John yelled.

Without hesitation, Marin ran for Nate’s boat.

John reached over Mitch and grabbed Cameron’s gun from her holster. He stuck it into the waistband of his cargo shorts.

“Get him, John,” Mitch said. “I’ll take care of Cameron.”

Cameron began to move her head.

“Take it easy, Cam,” Mitch said. “You might have a concussion.”

John made a beeline toward the Donzi.

On E-dock, others started to notice the hyperactivity.

Marin unwound the dock line from the left side of the Donzi and tossed it on board.

Dan Douglas ran toward John. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the guy who killed Laura. We’re going after him.”

“Not without me.” Dan grabbed the last dock line and untied it from the cleat.

Jackie Irwin and her husband, Rob, ran up and jumped on to the Donzi swim step as the boat shoved back out of the slip.

“We’re with you. A district attorney could come in handy,” Jackie said.

Within seconds, Nate had both engines at full RPMs, and the boat charged forward at over fifty toward the bridge and the main harbor waterway. Channel 16 on the VHF radio was alive with reports of the explosion.

Two Harbor Patrol boats came into the bay with sirens blaring and lights flashing. The members of the E-dock posse aboard the Donzi were all waving at the patrol boat, indicating that the WaveRunner was getting away. The pilot of the police vessel, not understanding the gestures, continued on toward the marina.

Jackie picked up the microphone from the dash. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. This is Newport Beach District Attorney Jackie Irwin. We are in pursuit of a murder suspect in Newport Harbor.” The screaming boat pounded the water with every leap. “He’s riding a black WaveRunner heading into the main channel.”

“This is the Harbor Patrol––Newport––say again? We have boats en route to the Blue Water Marina where an explosion has been reported.”

“He’s a suspect in the murders and the bombing––he’s getting away. We’re in pursuit. A black WaveRunner heading at high speed––it’s turning up the main channel.”

“This is Coast Guard Cutter,
Narwhal
. Did you say the fleeing individual is the suspect in the bombing?”

“Yes. Can you help?” Jackie asked.

“We’ll blockade the jetty entrance. The Harbor Patrol will coordinate the efforts inside the harbor. Let’s keep him contained.”

Nate reached the turn into the main channel and swung his boat in a wide sweeping arc at full speed. The WaveRunner couldn’t be more than a few hundred yards ahead.