Tide Will Tell (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans) (25 page)

Just as she started for the stairs, the muted sound of familiar sci-fi music jolted her to a halt.
Her phone.
But where was the sound coming from?

She quirked an ear and quickly honed in on…
herself?

Then it hit her. The sound was coming from the pocket of Sam’s jacket.

Perplexed, she plucked the phone from the pocket, giving the screen a fleeting glance.
Chase.
Adrenaline shot through her, numbing the connection between her brain and her voice as she clicked ‘accept’.

“Hello? Katie?” Chase’s voice sounded tinny and distant.

“Ch…Chase.” Her voice came out in a squeak. “Did you hear what happened? That I…found her?”

“Yes. Yes, I know.” His tone seemed clipped, dismissive. “Are you all right?”

All right?
How could she be? “I…I’m fine.” Her mind whirled. Should she say something about what Stuart had told her? That he had seen Emily’s body, not in the pool but next to it? And that he had seen Chase here the night of Trina’s disappearance?

No.
Trina had confronted Chase about Emily, and if Stuart’s theory was correct, she had died because of it. She couldn’t say anything to Chase about that. It was too risky.

“Good.” His voice sounded stern. Businesslike. “Where’s Sam?”

“Uh…” Kate shifted on her feet. If the powerboat was still on the far side of the yacht, she couldn’t see it, and she didn’t know if that had been the one Sam had borrowed anyway. She stammered into the phone. “I…I don’t know. She went to meet someone.”

He muttered something incoherent.

She pressed the phone closer to her ear. “What? Chase, I can’t under—”

“Katie, listen.” He came off sounding like a drill sergeant. “Go to the guesthouse and stay there.”

The guesthouse? But she’d only feel safe on the yacht. Then it registered that Chase didn’t know about the note, or the noises outside her window. “But, I can’t. I—”

“Don’t open the door to anyone.”

His disregard for her objections grated on her. How could she talk to him if he wouldn’t listen? “Chase, the sheriff needs to speak to you.”

“You’ve spoken with the sheriff?” Anxiety threaded through his tone.

“Of course.” She frowned. “You need to call him right away. Tell him again that you don’t know what happened to Trina.”

There was no answer, just ambient noise on the line that made her wonder where he could be.

“Chase…” This ambiguity was killing her. Josh was right. She had to know the truth, and now that she was a safe distance away from Chase, this might be her only chance to ask.

Rallying all her courage, she carefully considered how much she should say. “You
don’t
know what happened…right?”

He made an uneasy sound in his throat. “Katie…this situation is so much more complicated than…” He cut himself off.

She huffed out impatience. Out of fear, she had kept quiet about Karen, and Joe had gone free. If she had been courageous enough to speak up, would he have been arrested? She couldn’t make the same mistake twice.

She blurted out the words. “Because…I talked to Stuart.”

“Stuart?” The slightest quiver in his voice suggested that he knew what was coming.

“Yes. He told me that he saw you here at the house the night Trina disappeared. Why were you here, Chase?”

There was no answer. Just an indistinct announcement of some kind blaring in the background. Where was he? An airport?

She felt her fear falling away. “He also told me he remembers the night Emily died. That he saw her lying next to the pool. Do you know anything about that?”

A long moment stretched out in which she heard nothing from Chase but the sound of his breathing. When he spoke again, his voice was low and fierce. “Tell me you didn’t repeat any of that to anyone.”

The question jolted her. “No…I—”

“You didn’t tell the sheriff, did you?”

Had she? Thinking straight suddenly seemed impossible. “Chase, I just need to know—”

“Or to Joshua?”

“What? No.” Confusion overtook her. “Josh is gone.”

“Gone?” Something clanked in the background followed by the far-off sound of someone shouting. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

“I mean I didn’t think I needed him anymore and I let him go.”

“You let him…” A loud jangling noise overlapped Chase’s next words, making it impossible for her to decipher them.

It didn’t matter, because all she could think was that he wasn’t answering her questions. That could mean only one thing. He was guilty of one or both of his wives’ murders. And now he knew that Kate knew.

Her blood felt like ice water in her veins.

“Listen to me, Kate. Stay in the guesthouse. Don’t let anyone in, do you understand?”

Mind racing, she picked her purse up off the deck and secured it over her head and one shoulder, calculating how long it would take her to hobble down to the dock. Then all she’d have to do was get the dinghy out to the yacht. Sam would be back soon and Kate would tell her everything she’d found out. Together, they would make a plan. It was all going to be okay.

Across the bay, the ferry pulled into the terminal. Its horn sounded, followed by a faint echo.

Kate’s stomach jumped. That hadn’t been her imagination. She’d heard the horn, then a slightly delayed repeat of the same sound
over the phone.

Chase wasn’t in Vegas. He was on the ferry.

Chapter 27

Panic seared through Kate like wild fire. Trina had turned up dead because she had confronted Chase about Emily’s death. How could Kate have been so foolish as to have done the same thing?

The threat of Joe finding her suddenly felt distant and unreal. Chase was equally dangerous, and he’d be there in a matter of minutes.

Gripping the railing, she started down the stairs. All she had to do was get to the dock, and pray that she could start that motor.

Moving as quickly as her leg would allow, she made it down the stairs and onto the trail. Groaning from pain and effort, she stumbled past the guesthouse to the place where Stuart had accosted her earlier. Her eyes darted around as she made sure she was alone this time. Steeling herself against the pain, she looked at the path ahead.
Almost there.

Thank goodness she had left her suitcase on the yacht so she could run and not look back. Her habit of keeping all her most important possessions in one place had always served her well. Automatically, she ticked off her mental inventory. Her sweatshirt. Her favorite jeans. The money pouch. Her photos.

She lurched to a halt.
Her photos
.

It all came back to her. Sitting at the kitchen island in the guesthouse talking to Josh. She had stashed her photos between the cookbooks, intending to move them later, but she hadn’t.

She reeled around and stared at the guesthouse looming above her. There was no time to vacillate. Those photos were all she had left of her childhood. Of her mother. She had to get them.

Somehow, she managed to pull herself up the stairs while fumbling for the house key in her purse. Praying that she’d make it before Chase arrived and found her there, she scrambled to unlock the back door. As it creaked open, the shadowy kitchen eased into view and an eerie sense that something was wrong crept over her. She reached for the wall next to the door and flicked a light switch, then froze.

All the cabinets and drawers had been flung open, their contents scattered across the floor. In the living room, the cushions had been pulled from the sofas. A lamp lay on its side in the middle of the room.

Panic propelled her back to the doorway, but she stopped. Her photos were just a few feet away. She couldn’t go without them.

She listened. If whoever did this was still in the house, had she made enough noise to alert him to her presence? Gingerly, she limped to the center of the room, hearing nothing but the wind outside and her pulse thrumming through her veins.

Bracing herself against the edge of the kitchen island, she quickly made her way around to the other side and knelt in front of the bookshelf. Just as she began to paw through the volumes, something behind her clicked.
A key in the front door.
She popped up just as it opened and the shape of a man materialized in the doorway. Her breath caught.

Chase.

She drew back. His normally impeccable appearance had transformed into something careless and desperate. His wild eyes seemed tinged with fear, an emotion she’d never seen him show.

As he stepped into the room, he registered the condition of the house. “Katie…. What happened here?”

She used the counter to steady herself as she scuttled to its other side. “I…I…don’t…” She looked around, gauging the distance to the back door. But even if she made it outside, how could she hope to get down to the dock without him catching up to her?

“We need to go,” he commanded in a tone that left no leeway for discussion. “Quickly, before someone comes.”

Look around,
she thought.
Someone already has.

“Come on.” Marching toward her, he reached out a hand. “They’ll be here soon.”

Shaking her head, she attempted to draw back. “Who?”

“Reporters…the police.” He rounded the counter with an uncharacteristic swiftness and grabbed her arm. “I expected them to be at the gate, but now it’s only a matter of time.”

As he yanked at her, she cried out in pain. “Chase, my knee!”

Hesitating, he shot her a confused glare. “What about it?”

“I think I sprained it.”

With a disgusted grunt, he hoisted her into his arms and started for the front door.

“Chase, stop!” Trying hard to ignore the amplified pain caused by his hand digging into her leg, she held fast to his shoulders to keep from falling.

He charged through the door he’d left open. Kate shivered, both from the bracing wind and her growing fear.

Grunting with the exertion, he slowed slightly in response to the incline of the trail. “We need to get off the island before the place is overrun.”

“But, where are we going?”

“Never mind.” He struggled to catch his breath. “We’ll talk in the car.”

“But, I—”

“You have to trust me.” Reaching the driveway, he set her on her feet next to his car. “Get in.”

“I don’t understand.” She stepped back as he flung open the passenger door. “Why can’t you just talk to the police?”

Grabbing both of her arms with so much force it made her yelp, he glared at her. “You don’t understand what they’ve got on me, Kate. We have to move!” He shoved her into the car.

The slamming of the door was followed by a soft
click
. She scrambled for the handle but it wouldn’t budge. Her fingers found the switch for the lock, but the door still held. He had her locked in. Like a child who needed to be restrained.

As he crossed around the front of the car, panic held her in its grip. She had to get away, but how?

He got into the car and started the engine.

“Chase, please tell me where we’re—”

“There’s so much you don’t understand.” His hands shook on the wheel as he started down the driveway.

She stared at him. He was right. She didn’t understand.

Darkness overtook them as he drove out of the open area and onto the part of the driveway that was lined by tall, swaying trees.

“Chase, we can’t leave. There aren’t any more ferries tonight.”

“I keep a seaplane on the other side of the island. Once we’re away from here, I’ll call the pilot.”

“Won’t he know? About the body being found? And that you shouldn’t leave the island?”

“For the right price, he’ll fly us to the moon if I ask him to.”

Her heart raced. That would explain how he had managed to be on the island the night Trina disappeared without anyone knowing. He could buy people’s silence.

“You have to understand, Kate. They want to put me in prison.”

Her stomach reeled. “Oh…?”

“And now that Trina has been found…” He chewed on his lip, clearly not used to things being out of his control.

Suddenly, his eyes widened and the car jolted to a stop. Hurtling toward the dashboard, Kate caught a glimpse of something moving in the driveway ahead. A sheriff’s car. It was Tad!

The squad car swerved at an angle and stopped squarely in front of them. Chase pounded his hand against his steering wheel and barked out an expletive, the intensity of which made Kate cower.

Tad got out of his car and shone a flashlight as he approached. “Chase Cole?” His voice sounded small, as if he wasn’t sure he was up to this. “The sheriff needs to talk to you, sir.”

Chase worked his jaw as his eyes skirted around the car in front of him. Kate drew in a jagged breath. What was he thinking of doing?

Tad stopped a few feet from Chase’s window and waited. Looking ill at ease, He shone the light at Chase, who sat rigid, gripping the wheel and refusing to budge. “I’ll have to bring you in for questioning, Mr. Cole.” He took a couple of steps back. “Wait right there. I’m going to radio our office.”

Chase shifted gears and his car started to move in reverse.

“What are you doing?” Kate shrieked, grasping at the dash and the console between them for support.

Without answering, Chase shifted again and started to peel forward.

Whipping around, Tad reached for his holster. Raising his gun, he dove into Chase’s path. “Whoa, stop right there!” He yelled, his voice and hands clearly shaking.

As Chase attempted to run his car through the narrow space between the squad car and the trees, Tad hurtled his body in front of him. There was a sickening
thunk
, and Tad flew in the air, landing in a heap in front of Chase’s car.

Kate screamed as Chase hit the brake and she flew forward again.

As she pushed herself back from the dash, all was silent except for Chase’s wheezing breath. He stared ahead with fear-filled eyes, but there was no movement outside the car.

“What have I done?” Suddenly, he opened his door and leapt from the car.

Kate leaned forward, watching as he knelt down next to Tad’s prone body.